SUNMISOLA
An Online Christian Fiction.
©Mogbojuri, Olufunke Hadassah (The Author of Bruised Bimbo)
PART 24
…Becoming…
Daniel did not remember the last time he had a slamming headache like the one he had the previous day after slamming the door on Pastor Hyke. Pastor Hyke had called him and told him the condition for helping him out of his mess was to marry Christiana. Daniel was enraged. Christiana of all people. He had once opened pastor Hyke’s office door on a Sunday morning and met Christiana on his lap. Daniel was embarrassed. He apologized and left them. He never spoke about it and never confronted Sister Christiana on it. After all, the church operated on the grace that covered sins. There was no love lost between him and Christiana since then. He avoided her and was always careful around her. This is the same Christiana, Pastor Hyke wanted him to marry. Spoilt and tottered Christiana. He hissed with disgust. He slammed the door at his face and stormed out of the office. He banged on his car’s steering and drove out of the premises, angry.
He wished he could leave Pastor Hyke’s ministry. He was fed up with everything. If only he had not followed his roommate to the fellowship on campus. If only he had not forced himself on Dupe. The thought of Dupe brought another surge of headaches. He never heard from her and he felt really guilty for his atrocities, for the first time. He had no friends outside Pastor Hyke’s Church. There was nobody he could confide in. He had stopped talking to his parents after Sunmi’s incident. He felt lonely.
The next day, he woke up to a message on his phone. It was a message from Sunmi.
“Daniel I’m pregnant. Don’t bother to come looking for me because you won’t find me. Enjoy your hypocritical life, you beast.”
………………………………………………………………….
Papa T’s house was built on two plots of land in a developing site. He built a shop to secure the front part of the land from the greedy land sellers.
The house was quiet as usual. Papa T and his wife were at work. His children were all in boarding schools. The first, Tayo would be sixteen and would be rounding off her secondary education.
Sunmi’s seldom goes out. The only places she goes to were the clinic, church, and back to the house. She decided to start a snail farm on a portion of the land behind the building, to keep herself busy. She asked her father to send some sizeable snails to her. She started the farm, with about a hundred snails.
She was watering the snails when Her phone rang. She smiled. It was Segun.
She had changed her line before leaving for Osun and called him with her new line. If he wanted to reach her, he can only reach her on the new line. Only her family members knitted family members and Kunumi, have her new contact.
“Hello, Omo Iya. How are you this morning?” Segun asked.
“Uncle Segun!” She said excitedly “I’m fine. How’s your family.”
“We are fine. My wife sends her regards.”
“Thank you. Thank you for all the words of encouragement.” Sunmi said.
“What’s up with you. What are you doing now?”
“Oh! Uncle Segun, I thought I told you? I Left Lagos for Osun state. That was why I changed my line. I told a few trusted friends. I stay with my mentor now, pending when I put to bed.
“When you put to bed? Sunmi. you are pregnant?” He asked surprised.
Sunmi had tears in her eyes.
“I thought I told you. I had to leave Lagos, away from everybody and everything” She sniffed.
“Hmmm. All is well”
“So, how have you been coping?” He asked.
“Well, I’m adapting. Remember I schooled here in Osun, so the environment is not alien to me.”
“Sunmi, God will see you through this.”
“Amen. Thanks.”
“My wife and I will be praying for you.”
“Thanks, Uncle Segun.”
“Ok, dear. Do take care of yourself. I will keep praying for you.”
“Alright. Bye,” Sunmi said and dropped the call.
Sunmi went back to her chores. She made few friends in the community. One of them was Ms. George. Ms. George’s son, according to what she heard, is the owner of the mega school being built, down the road. She heard from Papa T that the son lives in America and had decided to build a school, an international standard school in that area. Papa T knew because, Ms. George was the former Dean of Faculty of Arts, in Osun State University. They were colleagues.
Sunmi was bored of staying at home, and so, she started selling petty things like garri, groundnut, cold sachet water, to workers, working on the school site. It was on one of those days, that Ms. George had noticed and taken interest in her. She wondered what a pretty lady with pregnancy, could be doing in that community.
“Young Lady, can I have a sachet of cold water,” she asked when Sunmi greeted and walked past. She does not need the water, she only wanted to start a conversation with Sunmi.
“How many Ma’am?” Sunmi asked.
“Two will be okay.” She said, and opened her car door, placing one leg on the ground. Sunmi ran off to get the water. She had placed her cooler under a tree. She loved walking around the site when she’s tired of sitting and watching the workers work.
“Here you are Ma’am,” she said.
“What’s the name?” Mrs. George asked Smiling when she stretched the water towards her.
“Sunmisola.” Sunmi smiled back.
“Oh! What a pretty name. Do you stay in this community?”
“Yes ma’am,” She nodded, “I stay with Dr. Taiwo.”
“Oh! You are Dr. Taiwo’s daughter?” She asked amazed.
“Hmmm, not really ma’am. He’s my mentor” Sunmi said.
“I see.” Mrs. George nodded.
“So, where’s your husband, I can see you are pregnant.” She was
Inquisitive.
Sunmi sighed. “I’m not married ma’am,” Sunmi said
“Oh! I’m sorry about the assumption,” Mrs. George apologized
“It’s alright ma’am.”
“You sounded learned. You don’t look like an ordinary villager to me. Why are you here selling water and biscuits…” Mrs. George asked her.
“I am bored, sitting at home all day. I enjoy coming here to while away time and still make money while sitting.”
“Oh, that’s good. You are industrious. What’s your highest level of Education.” Mrs. George asked her, already thinking of how to fix her up for a job, a clerical job, a secretary… Anything.”
“ I have a B.Sc in Accounting, I did other professional courses too. I’m a member of ICAN and other professional bodies.” Sunmi smiled.
“Wow! So, what are you doing here, wasting away… ?” she said amazed.
“Well, I’m thinking of applying for a job, when I put to bed and wean the child, but for now, I am not being led to do anything.”
“Hmmm. This is interesting. But, I’m still confused. How come you are pregnant, not married, living in a village like this with good certificates…and…”
“It’s a long story…” Sunmi said.
“I am listening. If you don’t mind, come and sit in the car. I am listening.”
Sunmi went over the other side of the car, opened the door to the car, and sat beside her. She narrated her story….
Weeks rolled into months.
Exactly nine months and ten days after she was raped, she put to bed. Fair-skinned baby, like a biracial child, with pinkish lips, like those of Daniel’s. She was Daniel’s carbon copy. She named her daughter Itunuoluwa, God’s comfort.
Sunmi started her petty trade at home while she nurtured Itunu. She sold water, biscuit, bread, and other fast-moving consumer goods in the shop at the front of the house. She sold mostly to those working on the construction site during the day. She no longer goes to the site. The site workers converged at her shop, for their lunch. She decided to add snail sauce and also ponmo sauce for those who could not afford her peppered snail.
She became close to Ms. George. Ms. George was like a therapist to her. She counseled her, prayed with her, gave her books to read, and when she gave birth to Itunu, Mrs. George visited with lots of gifts.
Stay Tuned For The Next Episode…
Read, Share, Comment…. But, Do Not Plagiarise. (DO NOT post on your personal blog/Facebook page, without the consent of the writer)
For support, comments, corrections, constructive criticism,
Contact: 070650584343 (WhatsApp messages only)

SUNMISOLA
An Online Christian Fiction.
©Mogbojuri, Olufunke Hadassah (The Author of Bruised Bimbo)
PART 25
…becoming Rebecca…


Dele parked the car across the road, opposite Sunmi’s shop.
“Mum,  what should I get for you?”
“I’m okay with just  water.”
“But there’s water in the car,” Dele said,  turning to open the bag placed on the back seat. He brought out bottled water. His mother felt the water and shook her head, “I want cold water.  The weather is hot.”
“Mum,  you are not getting younger, you shouldn’t be taking cold drinks.”
“Like I take them every day right.?”
Dele smiled, picked his wallet, and was about stepping down  from the car when his mother said “Help me get some peppered snail too.”
“Peppered snail?  where will I see them?” he asked.
“She sells them.  Can’t you see them showcased in her shop?”
“Oh. I see.”
“Hello,” Dele said.
“Hello,” Sunmi said looking up from the book she was reading.  Her daughter, Itunu sat on a little chair, scribbling on a book.
She stood up to attend to the person.
“Oh! Ms. George’s son,” she smiled shyly.
“The name is Dele,” He introduced himself.
“Oh! Mr. Dele.” She said, “What can I offer you?”
“Can  I get a cold can of malt?” he asked.
“Okay,  I’ll get it right away.” she left for the fridge
“Please,  add two bottled water and two short loaves of bread,” Dele said,  raising his voice.
“Okay sir,” she said, putting the things in a customized nylon bag.
“My God, this lady is beautiful,” He thought, straining his head to catch more glimpse of her. When he noticed she was coming, he composed himself and focused on something else.
She handed the things to him.
“How much is my bill?” he asked. She calculated it and told him.  He paid and turned to leave.
“Oh,  I almost forgot. Mum asked me to get some peppered snail.
Sunmi smiled and packed some snails in a silver foil.  She wrapped it and pinned it with a toothpick.
“How much are those.”
“Don’t worry.  I don’t sell the snails to Mummy.”
“…but why? It’s  business.” Dele protested, and insisted on paying.
“Mr. Dele,  don’t worry.  I..”
“Mummy I want to go and watch cartoon.” Itunu interrupted in her high pitched baby voice, pulling her mother’s dress.
Sunmi turned to her. “No. It’s too early to watch cartoons.” She spoke sternly.
“Your daughter?” Dele asked.
“Yes.”
“Hello little princess,” he turned to her.
“My name is Itunu,  not little princess.”
“Oh! Really?” Dele said amused. “Okay. Hello Itunu.”
Itunu smiled,  displaying her gums. They both laughed.
“Since you insist on not collecting the payment for the snail..”
“You are welcome,” Sunmi winked and turned back into the shop.
“Thank you,” Dele said and walked slowly back to the car, clutching tightly, the things he’d bought.
“What took you so long? His mother asked. “abi you are toasting her ni?” She teased.
“Mum!” Dele exclaimed.  “Nay. I don’t do single mothers,” He said with disgust, and started the car.
She eyed him.  “..and if God says you are getting married to a single mother?”
“God hasn’t told me that”
“What if He says…”
“Mum,  stop assuming for God.” Dele laughed.
“Oh. Mo ti gbo, I’ve heard.”
She unwrapped her snail delicacies and started eating, relishing in its sweetness. He drove in silence ruminating over what his mother said. How would a beautiful lady, decide to live in a developing community. A community where he could count the houses there. People make mistakes, fine, but she should have endeavored to move forward, not wasting her life selling groceries and peppered snail to the people in the community. Well,  it’s a good thing the school will be starting. He would help her by employing her, he thought. She may even be employed as kitchen staff. He smiled and with the corner of his eyes, his watch mother eating.
“Won’t you eat?” She stretched the foil to him. “It’s delicious o.” He shook his head.  “You know I can’t eat those. How hygienic is it?”
“You can’t eat those,” she mimicked. “But you bought biscuits and malt. How hygienic are those?”
“Those ones have been packaged from the companies they are produced. If anything happens to me after eating them,  the companies can always be sued,  not a roadside seller.”
“Pele oooo. Mr. America.”
Dele laughed.
“Mum,  an idea dropped in now.”
“What’s it about?” she asked, after gulping down water. “huuuu… Sunmi will not kill somebody with pepper…” She drew in more air with her mouth.
“I’m thinking of employing that lady, just to help her out. She can work as kitchen staff or sell groceries at the talk shops…”
Ms. George laughed long and hard.  She laughed so hard that tears were coming from her eyes. “Please son,  don’t let me choke” She shook her head, and drank more water. “Honesty you are funny.”
Dele was confused. “Mum I don’t understand you again. I felt for her and wanted to help her, give her the opportunity to earn a good living  and you are laughing.”
“Son,  remember that adage? t ‘you don’t judge a book by its cover’ honestly,  you have just judged a book by its cover.”
“How mum?”
“You were listening to our conversations, and you listened to the point I asked after her daughter right?”
“I lost interest after that…”
“You see…Anyway, what gives you the impression that you will be to helping Sunmi by employing her?”
“Well, Mum,  something triggered in me. I felt for her. A beautiful lady with a daughter of about three years,  living in what we call an isolated life.  I felt it would give her the opportunity to leave her shell,  meet people…”
“Honestly you are funny. So,  if you are to employ her,  it’s as kitchen staff or to sell groceries?”
“Ehhnnn,  she can work in another department, if she is qualified. Not necessarily kitchen.” He shrugged.
“Dele,  that lady you are seeing there,  is a qualified and certified accountant.  She was telling me earlier that she just concluded her MBA. You are here, dreaming of employing her as a cook. Cook ko. Cooker ni.”
Dele was confused. “if she has such a degree,  what is she then doing in this place.” He felt bad for making a wrong assertion about her.
“Son,  you don’t get to know people of you don’t move closer to them.  The first time I saw her,  I asked myself what a beautiful lady would be doing in this kind of place, with pregnancy,  selling water and soft drinks to the workers on site. I learned later that she was not the type of person who sits down without doing anything. So, she picked up the only available job she could do in the community,  sell cold water to workers on site.  She added selling peppered snail/ponmo and garri to them in the afternoon.  On one of my visits to the construction site,  I interacted with her. I knew she wasn’t an uneducated lady from the way she communicated. It was later I learned she lives with Dr. Taiwo, the present  Dean of Faculty of Education. She was strong-willed. She would not allow herself to wallow in self-pity, eating and waking up, and brooding over what would have been. So, she decided to start selling fast consumer goods in the community. I learned that residence go to the next village, to get basic things before she started selling. Remember Ona community residents are mostly staff of the university.”
“Hmmm.” Dele sighed.
“So son,  if you don’t know people, don’t judge them. I know Sunmi’s story. She’s a strong lady.
“Tell me about her story.”
“No  Dele. I’m not in the position to tell you her story. If you want to know her story,  you will go and meet her yourself.”
“So that you will say I’m toasting her right,” he stressed the toasting. He had always wondered wooing Nigerians replaced wooing with toasting. The word toasting has totally replaced wooing, in Nigeria.
Ms. George shrugged. “Sunmi is a good and godly lady. I wouldn’t mind her for a daughter in law. “
“Hahahhahahah.” He laughed. “Mum, no wonder you have been canvassing for her.”
Ms. George was silent for some minutes, then, she said, “Don’t worry son,  there are some things you will not understand now. I pray God opens your understanding.  Remember God’s ways are not our ways.”
Dele was silent for the remaining drive to his mother’s apartment in Osogbo.
The talk about Sunmi has taken some part of the journey and has made going back, faster.  He turned on the radio to fill in the silence.  He has never been in any serious relationship. His mother had been very strict in his upbringing.
Before moving to America as a teenager,  he had surrendered his life to Jesus.  He grew up among people who served and loved God,  He grew up with the understanding of God, and the people around him, helped him develop his faith in God.
When they moved to America, he was fourteen. His mother watched over him like a mother hen.  She vetted all his friends. Dele had very few of them. His closest was two immigrant kids, like him.  Their church pastor’s son, Nwania. Nwania had moved back to Kenya after their college to pick up a job there.  His other friend, Ujunwa,  was married with kids.  She had Nigerian parents. They were like a family to him.
Dele was the only child. He never knew his father and his mother had explained the circumstances around his birth, So,  he stopped asking. He knew quite a handful of his maternal relatives. One of them was his mother’s elder brother,  Uncle Lanre. He had fast-tracked their moving to America. Uncle Lanre is a medical doctor, and he had helped his mother settle down easily in America. Dele sighed, thinking about how he had discussed moving back to Nigeria with his Uncle.
His uncle had discouraged him. “Nigeria is not safe for you aburo. It’s not worth the stress. No good road, no electricity, no security. See, I won’t advise you to go.” Dele had insisted that it was God who instructed him to come back to Nigeria and he will never disobey his maker. 
His mother had helped him with his plan of building a school where students will be purpose-driven, God-centered, and productive.
He stole a glance at his mother,  she had dozed off.
He soon drove past the University and drove to the Estate where she resides.
The car jerked when he tried to avoid a pothole at the estate gate. His mother woke up.
“a tide ile? We have gotten home?” She asked.
“Yes, mum.” He said
“Thanks, Mum. For everything. For making my homecoming easy, for your unending support.” Dele said as he eased the car to the garage in his mother’s apartment.
“Always welcome son.” Ms. George said and yawned.



Stay Tuned For The Next Episode…
Read, Share, Comment…. But, Do Not Plagiarise. (DO NOT post on your personal blog/Facebook page, without the consent of the writer)
For support, comments, corrections, constructive criticism,
Contact: 070650584343 (WhatsApp messages only)
Photo Credit: Google.com.