Chapter Three: Stella Became Worried
"Stella," he said, disappointment heavy in his voice. "You were warned not to leave the house today. Even I reminded you. Yet you disobeyed and went anyway. Where did you go?"
"I... I went to one of my customers' houses. She asked me to braid her hair," Stella explained. "I prayed before I left."
Her husband shook his head. "And then you ended up in a forest."
"I don't know how. I took a taxi, and the next thing I knew, I was lost."
Her husband sighed deeply. "Thank God you made it back safely. But next time, don't ignore a man of God's warning."
"Yes, sir. I'll never do that again," Stella promised. "I'm sorry."
"Now, go and cook. I'm starving."
"Has Samba eaten?" she asked.
"Yes, she's asleep."
Stella nodded and headed to the kitchen, determined not to make the same mistake again.
---
That night, Stella had another strange dream. She stood in the middle of a dark street and saw a large bag lying nearby. Curious, she opened it and found it filled with bundles of naira.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "Opportunity knocks only once."
She quickly looked around. Seeing no one, she grabbed the bag and hurried away. But as she turned a corner, a voice called out behind her.
"Stop!"
She spun around to see a policeman, his gun raised. Without thinking, she ran. The officer gave chase, and Stella's heart pounded as she sprinted down the street, clutching the heavy bag. Eventually, exhausted, she dropped the bag and looked back, but the policeman had vanished. She was alone again.
Suddenly, she was no longer in the street. She was in a dark room, standing before a man dressed in black and red.
"Put the bag on the table," the man ordered.
Stella obeyed, and in the blink of an eye, she was back on the street.
The policeman was waiting. "Where's my money?" he demanded.
"I didn't steal your money!" Stella cried.
"You think I didn't see you take it?" he shouted, grabbing her arm. "If you don't give it back, you'll regret it!"
Fear shot through her as she tried to wriggle free. But before she could react, everything around her faded, and she jolted awake, gasping for air. It had all been a dream.
Her head throbbed with intense pain, heat radiating from her skull as though it were on fire. The agony was unbearable, and she clutched her head, moaning.
"Jack," she muttered weakly, nudging her husband awake. "Something's wrong. My head... it feels like it's burning."
Jack, still groggy, turned to her, concern etched on his face. "It's probably nothing, love. When it's 5:00 a.m., we'll go to the hospital."
Stella nodded, but the hours seemed to stretch endlessly. She tossed and turned, her eyes fixated on the clock, willing the hands to move faster. Each glance only revealed a few minutes had passed, the night crawling at an unbearable pace.
At 5:00 a.m., Stella gently shook Jack awake. "Honey, it's 5:00 a.m. Please, let's go to the hospital."
Jack blinked, still groggy. "Sorry, dear. How are you feeling now?"
"I'm not feeling any better," Stella replied, her voice weak. "I really need to see the doctor."
"Okay, let me get dressed," Jack said, moving sluggishly as he reached for his clothes. He pulled on a shirt and jeans, glancing worriedly at his wife. Stella, pale and visibly uncomfortable, slowly dressed as well.
Once they were ready, they hurried out and got into Jack's car. The drive to the hospital was tense and silent, broken only by the sound of the tires on the road.
Upon arriving, they were directed to the doctor's office. The doctor, coincidentally Jack's younger brother, greeted them with concern.
"Brother, what brings you here so early?" he asked, motioning for them to sit.
Jack gestured to Stella. "It's her. She's been feeling unwell. She'll explain what's been going on."
Stella leaned forward and, in a low voice, described her symptoms: the persistent headache, the feverish feeling, and the dizziness that wouldn't go away.
The doctor listened carefully, then scribbled something on a note and handed it to her. "Take this to the lab for tests. They'll know what to check."
They nodded and made their way to the laboratory. At the reception desk, they were informed of a fee of 5,000 naira before the tests could be conducted. Jack quickly transferred the money to the hospital's account, and Stella was soon led into the lab for her tests.
Afterward, they were asked to wait in an office for the results. The minutes dragged on, filled with uneasy silence. Finally, Jack's brother walked in, holding the test results.
"The results are clear," the doctor said as he handed the paper to Stella. "There's nothing wrong with your system."
Stella's face fell. "Nothing? But I don't feel like myself. My head is pounding, and I'm burning up inside."
Jack looked at his brother, hoping for a better explanation.
"Brother," the doctor said firmly, "we ran all the necessary tests, and nothing is out of the ordinary. I suggest you try paracetamol. If it doesn't help, there's little else we can do. And let me warn you, if you go to another doctor, they might just take advantage of your fear and charge you for unnecessary treatments."
Reluctantly, Stella agreed. "Alright, I'll try the paracetamol."
They left the hospital, but as the days passed, the medication did nothing to alleviate her symptoms. In fact, she felt worse—like her body was deteriorating. Desperate, Stella confided in her closest friend, describing the mysterious ailment that no doctor could diagnose.
Her friend listened intently and then suggested something unconventional. "You should visit a sorcerer I know. People say he's helped many with illnesses that modern medicine can't explain."
Stella hesitated, but overwhelmed by her worsening condition, she eventually agreed. The next day, with her friend by her side, she made her way to the sorcerer's home.
The sorcerer welcomed them into his dimly lit sitting room, filled with the scent of burning incense. He looked at Stella with piercing eyes. "What brings you here?" he asked, though it seemed he already knew.
"My friend has been ill," her friend explained. "She's been to the hospital, but they couldn't help. We're hoping you can."
The sorcerer nodded gravely and turned to Stella. "What kind of illness is troubling you? Tell me, and the gods will show the way."
Stella recounted her symptoms, her frustration clear in her voice. "I've tried everything, but I'm getting worse, not better."
The sorcerer leaned back and closed his eyes, murmuring in a strange, ancient language. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and stared directly into hers. "You have been marked for a money ritual. There are only three days left before you are taken from this world."