The Litany of Death

PROLOGUE He ran as fast as he could. His heart palpitating at an alarming rate. He was almost there. St. Peter's Catholic Church was a few meters from where he was. His father was probably sitting in the front row of the church with his eyes roving for his recalcitrant son. His father will strangle him alive if he discovers that he was late for mass for the third time this week. His speedy legs got him into Ruko market. He swerved swiftly to avoid colliding with a young hawker with a tray of oranges on her head. However, the velocity at which he was running made it impossible to prevent such collision. He ended up colliding with the hawker. The agile hawker held her tray of oranges firmly to prevent her oranges from rolling on the ground. The hawker hurled insults at him as he ran past her. He finally reached the church. He ran into the large compound of the church. Soon, he will be in front of the huge chapel where Sunday masses are usually celebrated. Deep inside of him, he had a foreboding that something horrific will result from his constant tardiness. The microphone-projected voice of Father Daniel that resonated from the chapel averred his fears. "Go forth, the Mass is ended" "Thanks be to God" The unanimous reply of the congregation filled the ears of his. His face was expressionless. His mouth opened in a slight O absorbing the horror into his system. His lips trembled fervently as he pictured his father putting on that malignant sneer on his stern face ready to unleash his punishment. What was he going to do? H e wondered. He could decide to cook up a lie and serve it gracefully to his difficult father. Wait! His mind roved, he always sit directly behind his father ehr during mass. I f he decides to telll a lie, his father will definitely smell a rat. Or he could head back home and await the impendin g punishment. When his father want to discipline him, he would hide in the bosoms of his mother. No! His mother will only push him back to his father. Several people he knew swarm out of the chapel. He stood there hopelessly watching them. There is Mr. Damilola and his family in their matching church wears. The family was so engrossed in their discussion amongst one another that they took no notice of him. Mrs. Kolawole came out with her taciturn five-year-old daughter holding her hand. Mrs. Kolawole sighted him immediately. She was one of the church elder. She was close friends with his father and always takes up the welfare of his father's family upon herself. When she saw him standing at the threshold of the chapel, her mouth twisted into a sneer. She walked up to him holding her obnoxious daughter tightly in her hand. "You're late again abi?" She questioned him with a scorn on her face. "It's like you want trouble for yourself" She added giving him no chance to reply. "Your daddy will beat you" Her daughter added sheepishly. He ignored them completely. He turned his back on them and walked away. He knows this at of his will only cause more trouble to himself. Well, he doesn't give a hoot. He was not ready for her sermon. Not today! He was sick and tired of Mrs. Kolawole and her imp of a daughter. "Are you not the one I'm talking to?" Mrs. Kolawole ululated after him. "You have grown wings abi?!" She added. *** KOCK! KNOCK!! KNOCK!!! The door opened without the person knocking waiting for a reply. His twelve- year- old sister's head popped in from the door. "Daddy is calling you" She informed and closed thee door. This was it- his comeuppance. He had spent hours after the mass contemplating on how his inimical father will unleash his punishment on him. He had arrived home early and for his safety, locked himself up in his room. He had unlocked the door shortly after his family had arrived. He was aware of how much his father abhors his children locking their rooms. He wouldn't dare pour gasoline to the already blazing fire. His father was the only one in the sitting room. He met his father reading bible with his perfectly squared thin glasses perched on his nose. The 12 noon news programme which was showing on the flat-screen LG television was muted. He kept his hands behind his back and lowered his gaze. He wore the repentant look of a prodigal son. "Good afternoon father" He greeted in a conciliatory tone. His father raised the bridge of his glasses higher. Then, he raised his head up to criticize his ignoble son. He dropped the Revised Standard Version Bible he was reading calmly on the glass table before him. He studied his son closely after which he shook his head disappointedly. "Where were you today during mass?" His father asked in the most phlegmatic manner with his eyes piercing through his son's soul and conscience. "I... I... I... was at Mr. James' house where you sent me" H e answered. "For so long?" "Mr. James was not home when I got to his house but since you asked me to deliver it personally to him, I had to wait" H e explained. " This is the third time this week that you came late for mass. This time around, you didn't even bother to attend mass" The anger in his father's voice was rising. "I'm.... I'm... sorry, father" WHAM! "Never ever tell me you're sorry!" The father was fuming. "Show me how sorry you are" He was dazed by the slap. H e hadn't seen it coming. Unconsciously, his own anger started rising. It wasn't his fault' was it? It was his FATHER'S Fault for sending him on an errand to his friend without even informing his friend of his son's advent. What sort of father does he have? H e wondered. A father so mesmerized in catholicism and allows religious doctrines to cloud his judgement. "It wasn't my fault!" He protested with such mettle he never knew he had. "What did you say?" His father couldn't believe his ears. "I didn't do anything wrong!" He protested again refusing to heed to the warnings of the voice inside him. His father bursted into a baleful laughter- the most malignant he has ever heard. The laugh left an ingenious smile on the father's face. WHAM! WHAM!! WHAM!!! The three consecutive slaps took him off balance. His Left palm felt his our cheeks as he struggled to get up. However, his father wasn't done with him. The father pulled him back up. He made his son look at him in the eyes. His impassioned face made his son recoil back in fear. His father seemed to be enjoying the effect he was having on him. He left him alone sprawling on the floor. His father went back to his seat on the sofa. He stared dangerously at his son. "Get up!" He howled. His sons curried up to s feet. He dared not look at his father in the eyes so he kept his eyes on the ground. "Kneel!" The father barked. Instantly, his son dropped to his knees. His hands was behind his back and his lips shook out of visible fear. "Now," The father started in a stoic voice. " Tell me why your absent from mass is not your fault" The son was short of words. His body kept shaking fervently. His eyes roved about in trepidation. His heart palpitated so much that he feared it will tear its way out of his rib cage. "Talk to me!" The father barked menacingly. Out of the blues, his father brought out an en electric wire. He whipped his shaken son with the wire. He felt his son deserved it. He shouldn't have challenged his authority. Not only did he miss mass but also had the audacity to challenge him. He will teach his son a bitter lesson. "Father, please! Please!!" The son pleaded helplessly. He hoped that someone will come to save him from his villain of a father. He knew no one dares t do that. His father never liked anyone interrupting him from meting out punishments- as he prefers to call them- on his children. Whoever tries to do so will incur his wrath. His mother couldn't take it anymore. She flung the door of her room wide open and ran to the living room. She rushed toward the father and held his hand where the electric wire was held firmly. In his blind rage,The father pushed his wife away from him and sent her sprawling on the carpeted floor. He resumed flogging his son with the wire. His whips landed on the son's left eye twice but that didn't deter the father. He kept on flogging him. And that incensed the hate the son had for his religion. The more his father whipped him, the more his hate grew. And it never stopped growing...