Stolen From the Altar

Share This Post


When the Pastor said ‘If there’s anyone against these two becoming two in one, come out now or forever keep your peace’, I did not expect anyone to.

And then he did.

No one could have photoshopped the real him. Not even plastic surgery would have done the trick.

Stupefied, I watched the man who had been dead for seven years walk down the aisle to the front of the church where I stood, just seconds away from officially owning the most beautiful woman in the world, the love of my life. All was morgue silent; you could have heard a pin drop and pick it.

Mouths agape, the congregation watched in debilitating flabbergast the unfolding spectacle. A cold breeze whipped sharply, stung my cheeks and watered my eyes.

All my efforts had been in vain; seven years of getting Valencia to accept that her beloved, anorexic version of a Harry Porter boyfriend was dead and gone.

I fell in love with Valencia when my brother brought her home to introduce her to the family. I couldn’t allow my brother, the family Romeo, to have her. Our lifelong sibling rivalry resuscitated, and the mother of all battles ensued—Operation Love Valencia. Diplomacy never worked, yet I couldn’t concede defeat even though Valencia loved Damian like crazy. Every body was against me, the family’s black sheep.

Then it happened—the accident that killed Damian and almost paralysed Valencia, all my craft. What do you think? I am a medical doctor and know people with the Gifted Hands of Ben Carson. At least Valencia lived. Damian’s body was never found because he was reduced to cinders.

And at last, Valencia was all mine.

Now, I was staring at Damian’s handsome face, not even with a single scar or a single strand of hair missing. Mixed feelings crawled up to me, and I felt like crying.

Don’t cry, I told myself.

Then the strangest thing happened. Instead of fainting, as it happens in Nollywood, Valencia rushed to the man we all knew was dead. They hugged and kissed—they ought to get a room, you know.

I stared defiantly at Damian, looked at the couple making out in front of the church and pitied the pathetic figure that was me.

I held back the tears.

Men don’t cry.

It hurt to see Valencia happy with Damian, who, mysteriously, was alive.

And I could never show how much it hurt to know that Valencia was not happy with me.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit.

Etiam vitae leo et diam pellentesque porta. Sed eleifend ultricies risus, vel rutrum erat commodo ut. Praesent finibus congue euismod. Nullam scelerisque massa vel augue placerat, a tempor sem egestas. Curabitur placerat finibus lacus.

Virgins in Short Supply

There is an acute shortage of virgins over here, guys. The forces of demand and supply are really fighting, and I don’t think the war will end any time soon. And who lied to you there are virgins over here anyway?

Slum Dog’s Slam Dunk

First published on Storymoja and Shortlisted for June Drama Photo Contest The bell knelled at last. Jimmy heaved a sigh of relief. The last fifteen minutes had felt like an

Do You Want To Hone Your Writing Skills?

Register today for creative writing courses

error: Content is protected !!