We Live Together III

Another tap on the door?

Judith yawned and turned for the alarm clock. She held it tight.

“My Go…, my world.”

She grabbed her sleeping cloth and run to the front door.
It was a few minutes to 10am and it meant so many things were late.

She’s missed her salon appointment at Your Hair’s Port and it also meant any client could be at her door post. She looked at her wooden framed wall clock and rubbed her eyes. It was really 10am. Mr. Maison could be right behind the door.

She looked at herself. Her silk turban was almost off her head. Her night wear was shamefully short. It was good she got hold of her morning coat. Not that she cared, that she’ll pay heed to any tugging at her heart. Judith unlocked the door and opened it with one pull. The fully risen sun hit her face. She ducked, stepped backwards, rubbed her eyes some more. Her nail made a scratch around her nose. She winced and looked into the face that was smiling at her.

Derrick Asamoah seemed beside himself with the smile turning a little grin from the corner of his dark thin lips. He was dressed up in black trousers, T-shirts and a flip-flop. She inhaled. His shower gel or hair shampoo, whatever he used in the bathroom was all over him. And it did smell just fine. It made her want to sleep again. He said something. She was too preoccupied to recollect. This wasn’t good.

She had a quick stomach churn. She was staring down, studying his big toe on the right foot. It had a little plaster on it. The nails were chipped and the cuticles contrastly kept. Maybe he chews on them. She smiled and looked at him. This isn’t good.

What in God’s Holy Name are you doing here like this at my doorstep?

Judith wanted to blurt it out without thought but didnโ€™t allow a drop of a word slip. If Derrick won’t call it blasphemous, she could already hear her dad’s voice echoing.

How dare you Ako? How dare you?!

Those times were rough. Dad was rough but she misses him.


“You should see the drama these people were busily putting up here.”

Farida was on her feet. Sisi looked on curiously. Lunch time excited her for obvious reasons. This is one.

“So you are telling me the board members held a secret meeting this morning about Pastor Asamoah all because of some prostitute?”

“You can just summarise it like that.”

“Ah so a pastor can’t befriend a prostitute?”

Sisi threw her palms unto her mouth at her last words.

“Yeee. Are they thinking they are… Eh… I mean he is… You know involved in that way with her?”

Farida nodded.

“But there’s more. I overhead them saying they have some evidence of a sort. Me I don’t know. I’m not even sure what they meant.”

She drew Sisi near and whispered.

“They’ve been making people follow him.”

“Heehe!”

Sis carried both hands on her head. Farida hushed her. She calmed herself down and sat.

“Why will they do that?”

“Because they don’t trust him?”

“But why won’t they trust him? He’s barely gone through the usual first quarter for anything to be blamed or not blamed on him.”

“Don’t you know the board chairman casts those suspecting eyes on anyone who is different from him?”

“Like a 6 feet, slightly fair man who gyms, listens to CHH and keeps his beard bushy and neat.”

They both giggled.

“How did you know his music kind is called Christian Hip-hop?”

“I googled that Anomaly track.”

“Ei. Sisi. Kokonsa won’t take you far.”

They both giggled again.

“Was my boss in the meeting? ”

Sisi asked and with head motioned towards the door with the Assistant Pastor sign. She held her breath for the answer. She looked out for him as though her very daily life depended on it.

“No. Honourable Dr. Board Chairman Akoto said “He is just too loyal… but… but we’ll see whether baiting him in will work.””

Farida lifted her shoulders, cleared her throat and paced, taking long strides as she spoke.

“I should warn him.”

Sisi jumped up. Farida pushed her down.

“There are things that stay between us. We can’t just go and warn people because we’ve heard danger looming behind them.”

“But he’s my boss and you know that your Akoto uncle.”

“And the person being sabotaged is mine too.”

Sisi pushed herself into the seat. Her big round eyes circling in their sockets.

“I’ll just pray.”

“Great.”

A relieved Farida chimed in.

“That’s all we can do. And the prostitute, I bet you know her. She’s a regular at Your Hair’s Port. And I heard she was confronted by her housemates this dawn about a tenant’s husband. Mr Boateng.”

Sisi nodded. The Christy’s were a handful. Tomorrow they’d be seeing her boss, the assistant pastor. And she knew why. Christy couldn’t get pregnant and Chris wouldn’t move them out because of that. She wasn’t anywhere close by to their room this dawn. Those two are easy to read at the fastest glance.

Her heart was thumping though. The senior pastor being coup-de-รจtated out of his seat will mean a lot of the good changes happening around halting. Who thought the church will eat, sleep and talk politics deadlier than the acclaimed political parties existing. Her gut is telling her the drama is just beginning.

Author’s note: And the drama just began in my mind. I can see all the excitement about coming in. We Live Together will sure make us travel together on the same emotion paths. It feels great to make the writing time. We Live Together started here and continues here before this part. See ya next week, same day ๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ˜˜.

ยฉ 2016 M’afua Awo Twumwaah

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