Dial - Season 1 - Episode 36

4 years ago

Dial - Season 1 - Episode 36

But no, it wasn’t a trick!

I remembered that whilst eating I had been pressing the lock key repeatedly and faintly hearing my car responding!
No, it had been locked…but someone had entered and played a most foul trick on me!
I was sweating and couldn’t breathe!

I took slow, lethargic steps from the car as my heart thudded with fear.

Forcing calm over my body, I took out my phone and called Apostle Williams again. In very scared tones I told him of the horror that had happened.

“Oh, I knew it-ha! Oh, the devil-ah is a liar-ah! Yees, the devil-ah is a liaaaaar-ah!” he said in a crooning voice. “Hogbetso Hogbetso shabalilaa tolakotas!

Hobbbabaaabaa! I sawa it-ah! It-a was-a reveal-a to me! Do not worry-a! Mr. Biko, be brave-a, put it-a on-a the flooor-a, and send-a it-a to me-a tomorrow! I will-a use it-a to destroy-a the curs-a on you-a!”
He reassured me that everything would be fine, and I believed him.

Back in the car I used a duster to lift the pot and put it on the floor of the car, in the backseat, and then I got in the car and continued driving.

An hour later I was in Accra.
I was relieved and a little happy.
Apostle Williams sounded so positive that he seemed to pass on some of the positivity to me, and I began to relax.

I stopped at an intersection, and the traffic light was showing red.

I was leaning over to change the song playing when I felt a tap on the window of the car, and I sat up slowly.

A little boy was standing there.

He wasn’t a Ghanaian. He was of the North African ascent, and he was holding his hand to his mouth, obviously begging for money.

I would have moved on like I normally did when beggars approached me, but suddenly it dawned on me that everyone needed a break at one point in time. We were all beggars in a way, anyway. Here I was, floundering in things way above my head and begging an Apostle to take care of my problems for me.

I reached into my back pocket and took out my wallet.

Feeling extremely generous, I extracted a fifty-cedis note from my wallet, wound down my window and then proffered the money to him with a smile on my face.

He made no attempt to take the money, and instead his eyes looked at me sadly.
“I don’t want your money,” he said softly.
I scowled darkly, my temper rushing to the fore.

“Then what do you want, idiot?” I said savagely. “Get the hell out of my sight! Why did you rattle me window anyway?”
“He can’t help you,” he said calmly.

I was in the process of pushing the knob that would wind up the power-window again, but I stopped and turned round to glare at the boy with sudden trepidation.
“What?” I asked numbly.
“He can’t help you,” he said, and his voice was dropping from the high-pitch tone of a little boy to the higher bass of an adult.
“Who can’t help me?” I asked hoarsely.
“The preacher man, Mr. Biko!” he said slowly, his voice seeming to echo all around me, making my headache soar. “He can’t help you in anyway. One week to marry Akos, Mr. Biko, one week. Don’t you misuse your time.”

And by the time he stopped speaking his voice had suddenly become that of Nana b0s0mba!
I screeched loudly as he turned away suddenly and began to move away!
The traffic light changed to green, and cars began blowing their horns angrily behind me.
“Hey, come back here!” I cried in anguish.
The little boy stopped and looked at me over his shoulder.