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My friend dropped out of the university where he was studying Law because he couldn't pay his fees. I had helped the much I could but like a pebble cast in the dune, my little aid drowned soundlessly in his ocean of needs. I advised him to get a job, be it menial. I knew it was difficult. I wondered what job a quiet poor boy could find in Abakaliki?

He called me four months ago. His voice was lit up. He spoke sprightly and clearly. He told me he had found something, that he was working in a ministry. And my heart beeped with joy.

'Which Ministry?' I had asked.

'Brother, it's a healing ministry...' He beamed on the line. And my spirit shrunk like I had taken an ice bath.
Time passed.

His knock on my door woke me up this morning. He walked in with a heavy bible, looking so faded and unkempt.

'Peter is everything alright?' I asked, scanning him up with eagle eyes.

'It's that woman.'

'Which woman?'

'The owner of the ministry where I work. She's maltreating me.' He said, fixing himself on the closest chair.
'Brother can you imagine? In that ministry I do all the prayers; I lead the holyghost nights, I lead the deliverance sessions and sometimes I lead the praise and worship too. She only does the anointing. Yet after fasting and conducting prayers of #10,000 and #20,000 for people, she only gives me #1000. I count the offerings and tithes too, somedays we get as much as #60,000 yet she gives me only #5000 at the end of the month.'  He continued to narrate so innocently.

'So how do you determine the charge for a particular prayer?'

'It's usually by how big the request is and how long the prayer will last.' He said.
I leaned on my bed, head spinning in confusion. But it's morning and I didn't want a long talk.

'So, what do you want me to do for you?' I asked.

'Brother, I need your advice. I'm tired. I neither rest nor sleep. I do 'connect-prayers' for people on phone every midnight, yet it's that little thing that she gives me.'

'It's alright. How much would you like her to give you every month?'

'Brother, at least #20,000. I can manage that one.' He said.

'Good. Now, each day you finish counting the offerings and tithes, just remove #10,000 for yourself'

'Noo! You want me to steal from Mummy? He said, sitting up.

'Who is your Mummy and what difference does it make? Aren't you both thieves?' I questioned in a burst of irritation, and he lowered his head slowly.
That was how I lost my cool and pity for him, totally.

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