Contrary to what many believe, African culture is not equivalent to 'black magic.'

Our ways of life was not without its own flaws, but the beauty of it is not celebrated. There is a popular saying of our elders, 'Ori bibe ko l'ogun ori fifo'. You do not treat a headache by cutting your head off.

Baba did not instruct me to do anything. He merely advised me to look within myself. I was grateful to Niyi for bringing me to the elder and advisor who was most suitable for me.

From the time Niyi and I arrived, we were pampered like royalty. Baba Orija and his wife told us about how lovely it was to have children in the house again. Both of us laughed it off after telling them we were adults. To which they responded that, 'to us you are children.'

Niyi and I spent a lot of time together as usual. A sense of peace, that I had not had in a long time settled over me. My breathing was not shallow, and did not come out in tense puffs. Tension rolled off my spirit in waves.

I felt taller, stronger and more flexible. Like a Bata dancer- a fascinating type of traditional Yoruba dance, swaying and bending to the melody of the drums.

Baba Orija allowed us to rest on the day we arrived. We sat together on the verandah in the evening. Enjoying the cool breeze and listening to all the humorous stories about when they were young and tales by moonlight.

The following day, Baba asked me to tell him everything that happened. It was a painful experience, but necessary part of understanding how to solve the problem he explained.

"Have you been having visions about what you should do?" he asked.

"No, sir," I replied.

"That is because you allowed fear to gain a foothold in your heart," he replied gently. "You are a seer, but you have not realised your full potential because you are afraid."

Niyi sat by my side and squeezed my hand. Baba had a point. After all was said and done, my heart had literally no space for reflection. Except for the occasional random visions, most of the time I was nursing thoughts of fear.

"By the way, did you actually accept money from Kennedy Olajide?" Baba asked.

"No, I did not," I replied.

Baba broke out into a song.

"O ti se o, Baba ti se o,
O ti se o, Baba ti se o,
Ohun to n bami leru, Baba ti se o"

"He has done it, Baba has done it,
He has done it, Baba has done it,
What I was afraid of, Baba has dealt with."

Niyi and I exchanged baffled looks.

"The beautiful thing about the work of God, is that he will reveal what pleases him, when it pleases him and to whom he pleases," Baba said.

He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, "You were wrong to tell that blogger those lies, but you did not accept payment from him to do so."

I look down at my feet. Guilt for getting involved at all, directly or indirectly for slandering Rotimi Orisajana still sat in a corner of my heart.

"You still need to seek for forgiveness for playing an indirect role though," Baba added gently.

I nodded.

What Baba said was revelational. It was as if a light bulb went off in my head. My mind felt like it was under lock and key previously, and suddenly I had been liberated.

Baba Orija faced Niyi. "Niyi, you are a gifted man and your spiritual cloth is white. You are to be commended for refusing to do evil. Sadly, because of peer pressure and other negativity, many youths have missed the way."

Niyi bowed humbly, "Thank you, sir. It is the grace of the Almighty Creator."

"Teniola."

"Yes, sir."

"Have you completed the five days of meditation and prayer I asked you to do?" Baba asked.

"Yes sir," I replied.

"Carry on your regular activities and relax. Let your mind be at rest. What ever dream or vision you have this night, tell me in the morning, okay?

**

After having a shower, and slipping into bed, Niyi and I lay face to face and looked at one another wordlessly.

I reached out to him and stroked his cheek, "Thank you," I whispered.

He smiled gently and played with the hand I put on his cheek. "Kini a wa fun ara wa fun? That is what we have each other for."

I drew closer to him, and kissed his lips. He responded, but interrupted the kiss shortly afterwards.

"Are you sure we should do this now?" Niyi asked with his hands on my waist. He put a loose curl behind my ear.

"Relax," I chuckled. "I am not trying to do 'it'. I just wanted to have a little sugar before sleeping."

He grinned, "You look like you want to have my triplets."

I felt warmth rush to my cheeks, and looked at his face. He smirked and his eyes twinkled with joy.

"Good night, Teniola," he said, with another peck to my lips.

"Good night, Niyi," I replied.

He must have been exhausted, because his breathing deepened and he fell asleep quickly. I put another peck on his lips and turned over.

**

Within moments, images started projecting themselves onto my mind. It was quite likely that I was not sleeping. The images changed so fast, I wished I could press a pause button.

A voice I could not identify, nor describe as male or female spoke into my ear. "It is because there are a multitude of overlapping situations."

Before I could process that message, I found myself wearing a white robe and standing face to face with Rotimi Orisajana. At the foot of Opa Oranmiyan.

He was wearing his trademark Ankara, a type of material used for traditional wear. Tailored in a shirt and trouser design. He had a frown on his face. We had not met in real life and considering the circumstances, I felt there was no time to waste.

I knelt down and apologised, "Egbon, My elder brother. Please forgive me," I clasped both hands together and tackled the situation head on.

He shook his head.

"I was wrong to lie against you. The pioneer Governor of Irede should be you, but your reputation has been affected because I lied and Monica Maxi Media twisted my lies even further."

He sighed and shook his head again. "Kennedy Olajide, oloriburuku yen. That unfortunate man. You were wrong to be used as his tool. Directly or indirectly," Rotimi said. He looked at the ground and back at me again, "I was furious, but what Monica said has been exposed as fake news."

I was shocked by his response. It had not been exposed as fake news yet. Perhaps it would manifest in the physical realm at a later time.

That being said, why was Monica killed? I wondered.

"I did not kill Monica. She died from an undiagnosed health condition," he said firmly.

I kept silent, but was not convinced.

"Do you not know where we are?" he asked. "My ancestors are from Ife. I can not deceive you in the presence of Opa Oranmiyan."

My heart brightened with hope.

"Go in peace, I forgive you and will respect the choice of the people in the upcoming election," he concluded.

He disappeared before I could ask any further questions.

**

In the blink of an eye, I was standing in a forest. For some unknown reason, something started pursuing me. Asking questions could cost me my life, so I ran. There was no time to hide or dodge, so I fled in a straight direction.

The branches tore at my clothes and leaves got tangled in my hair, but I kept running without looking back. Inhaling the earthy scent of the soil and the bushes.

I tripped on a tree root and scrambled back to my feet, almost colliding with a tree trunk in the process. My chest burned with exhaustion and my heart raced faster than I was. The predator was unrelenting and I was determined not to die for nothing.

Suddenly, the bushes cleared and I saw myself in front of a wide river. If I waited at the river bank, the predator would capture me. If I dived into the water, who knew what was there. When the bushes shook behind me, indicating that it was about to catch up to me. I dove into the water.

I came up for air and dove back under the water. Swimming as far as I could under the water, and coming up for air at random intervals. The river was warm and cold on my skin at the same time.

After what seemed like an eternity, I emerged from the water and bent over to catch my breath. Gasping like a marathon runner to had just finished a race.

"Teniola, keep going. You can not stop now."

I stood up straight and found myself face to face with my father.

"Daddy?"

"My daughter."

I wanted to hug him, but he raised both hands to halt my steps. He was wearing the ceremonial attire of a king and he looked healthy and radiant.

"I love you my daughter," he said. "You will be victorious in life. Anybody who raises a hand to harm you in any way will destroy themselves."

"Ase!" So shall it be," I replied boldly. "I love you too, daddy."

Tears streamed from my eyes as my racing continued. In my heart, I recited the prayer my father said over and over again. It was significant and could not be taken for granted.

Eventually, the landscape changed and I found myself in my dorm at Columbia University. Everything was as just the way I remembered it. There was still the the hustle and bustle of students. Some entering their rooms, others leaving. People stopped in the hallway to chat and others kept their heads down and kept walking. No one seemed to notice me.

'What on Earth am I doing here?' I wondered. My head whipped from left to right. Up and down. Just in case there were any fanged or fire breathing creatures around. Someone knocked into me, and put a key in my hand. Before I could check the face of the person, they were gone.

**

My eyes fluttered and opened. Apparently, my eyes were closed. Even if it were just for a moment.

I was standing on an open field. Clear from any trees of plants, as far as the eye could see. I kept reciting my father's prayer and braced myself for whatever would come next.

Out of nowhere, a figure came charging towards me. I tried to run, but my feet were planted to one spot. My breathing quickened, and I got ready to say my last prayers. When the figure got closer, I gasped in shock.

It was Jagunlabi.

I could not believe it after everything I passed through, was it all for nothing. He kept running towards me with a triumphant look on his face. He was still a bit far, but he was getting closer each moment.

Suddenly, I looked down and realised that I was not in my white robe anymore. I was also dressed as a warrior. My feet, arms, chest and head were clad with protective armour.

In another wonderful addition to my latest discoveries, I had a spear in my hand, but it was only one.

Jagunlabi was getting closer and closer. I stood on guard, repeating the prayer my father uttered. Ready for the attack and prepared to fight to finish.

Apparently, he did not notice my spear, because he was caught by surprise. When I leaned back and threw it at his chest, his eyes widened with shock. It flew through the air, spinning across the distance between us and was right on target.

"O ni gberi mo!" You will never rise again!" I shouted victoriously. The spear pierced through his armour and straight into the centre of his heart.

Jagunlabi roared and moaned as he clutched his chest. He struggled and failed to remove the spear from his heart. A shadowy figure leapt from the wound, and disintegrated. He looked into my eyes and I stared back with a glare of steel. Finally, he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Fire fell from the sky and burned the remains.

I cautiously approached his remains when all that was left was a carcass and some ashes. It still glowed red from within where the spear struck. The wind scattered some of the ashes and the head was already separated from the body.

My mouth fell open in horror. When I got close enough to have a good look, the face shocked me more than all that I had experienced.

"Maxine? My best friend!" I
screamed.

The severed head, burnt to a crisp and battered after spiritual war, spoke...

"Eniyan n woju, sugbon Olorun wo okan. People look at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart. Kiyesi, Maxine o kin se ore re. Watch out, Maxine is not your friend." It gasped and crumbled into dust.

A golden dragon swooped down from the sky. Flapping its magnificent wings and blowing fire from its snout. It bowed before me and I realised it was the same dragon from my vision. I mounted it and it flew me away from the battleground.

Panting and sweating profusely, I woke up, in Niyi's arms.

"Teniola, you are back," he exclaimed. He hugged me tightly and I felt his rapid heartbeat when I rested my head on his chest.

Baba Orija and his wife were also in the room with us.

"None of us have slept since last night," Baba Orija said. "We saw you tossing and turning, but you needed to fight that battle."

Something poked my palm, and when I opened it, I saw the key. A message flashed before my eyes.

"Ogo ni fun Olodumare, mo ta ji layo ati alaafia. Mo ti di asegun. Glory be to the Almighty. I woke up hale and hearty. I am an overcomer."

Whether or not Jagunlabi spoke the truth about my best friend Maxine, I did not know. Apparently, Jagunlabi had an axe to grind with me over matters which surpassed politics. I hoped the storm was over, perhaps my battles had just begun.