BOOK OF CALEB PART 3

BOOK OF CALEB PART 3

Idera tightened her grip on her phone, pressing it against her ear as Mama B’s voice rang through the receiver.

“Them no born you well.”

Her stomach clenched. “Ma?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mama B scoffed. “Yes, them no born you well. You think I don’t know your plan? You want to tell him so that he can come back and fight me?”

Idera’s mouth went dry. “No, ma. Not to come and fight you, ma. I just want to discuss this with him and see how we can both take good care of you, ma.”

Silence.

Then a sharp, knowing chuckle followed. “Idera, don’t think you can be too smart. I am smarter. If you do anything funny, I will come fully for you.”

A shiver ran down Idera’s spine. The threat wasn’t empty. Mama B meant every word.

“Okay, ma. I will not do anything stupid, ma,” she said quickly, her voice steady but her fingers trembling.

“Very good,” Mama B said, sounding satisfied. Then, just as Idera thought the conversation was over, Mama B’s voice turned sharp again. “Hey, one more thing.”

Idera exhaled slowly. “What is it, ma?”

“It is a question, and I want you to give me a straightforward answer,” Mama B said.

Idera swallowed. “Okay, ma.”

“Do you really want to collect the money you gave me the last time back?”

Idera blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. “No, ma. It is a gift, ma. Haba, ma. It is a gift.”

Mama B was silent for a moment before she hummed approvingly. “That is good. I like you.”

Relief washed over Idera, but she didn’t dare let it show in her voice. “Thank you, ma.”

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” Mama B said, her tone suddenly light, as if the last few minutes of hostility had never happened.

“And you too, ma,” Idera replied softly.

A sharp beep followed. The call was disconnected.

Idera lowered the phone, staring at it as if it held all the answers she desperately sought. Her heart was still racing. She let out a long, shaky breath, rubbing her temples.

She had to tell Caleb.

She had to let him know what was going on before things got worse.

Caleb sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, his jaw clenched. His thoughts were a tangled mess, frustration boiling in his chest.

“My God, what is this for crying out loud? What is this?” He ran a hand over his face, trying to think.

He had heard enough from Idera’s tone before the call ended to know something was wrong. Mama B had called her for a reason, and whatever was said wasn’t good.

“Let me call this woman. She needs to stop all these.”

His thumb hovered over his mother’s contact. Then he hesitated.

“Wait… she told Idera not to tell me.”

That meant she had no intention of him knowing whatever threats she had thrown at Idera.

“Don’t let me call her… but Idera said she will tell me so that we can plan…”

He groaned, torn between anger and caution.

“No. Let me call Idera first.”

His fingers moved quickly, tapping her name on the screen.

The phone rang.

Caleb held his breath.

She needed to pick up.

This couldn’t wait.

Caleb’s fingers trembled slightly as he pressed the call button. The ringing tone echoed in his ears, each second stretching out unbearably.

Then, finally, she picked up.

“Hello.”

Caleb exhaled, relief mixing with guilt. “Idera, I am so sorry.”

There was a pause. Then Idera’s voice, firm and unyielding, cut through the line.

“Hold on, don’t even try what you want to just do right now.”

Caleb frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“What did you tell your mother about me?” Idera’s tone was sharper now, demanding.

Caleb sat up straighter. “I didn’t tell her anything aside from the fact that we are good friends.”

“Tell me the truth, young man.”

“Idera, I am telling you the truth,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

Silence.

Then, after a beat, she spoke again. “Caleb, you have been acting weird recently.”

“Weird? How do you mean?”

“Caleb, are you sure you are fine?”

He hesitated for a second before responding. “Yes, I am fine.”

Another silence, longer this time. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.

“Okay, I will call you back much later.”

Caleb clenched his jaw. He couldn’t let the conversation end like this. “Idera,” he called, his voice softer.

“Yeah?”

He swallowed. “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

Caleb shut his eyes briefly. “For what you went through because of me.”

She let out a small sigh. “It’s okay. How much are you owing me now?”

Caleb rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of his debts pressing down. “Four hundred and twenty-five thousand naira.”

“It’s four hundred and eighty thousand.”

His brows furrowed. “Really?”

“Yes. Work on how to pay back and not be sorry for what you did not do. It is just one of your mother’s drama.”

Before he could say another word, the call ended with a sharp beep.

Caleb stared at his phone, jaw tightening.

His mother.

His debts.

Idera.

Everything was piling up.

And somehow, he needed to fix it all.

Caleb tossed his phone onto the bed and let out a deep, frustrated sigh. He ran a hand over his face, exhaustion settling into his bones.

“My God, what is all this now? I am tired.”

Just as he was about to close his eyes, the phone vibrated again. The sharp, incessant ringing filled the room, grating on his already frayed nerves.

He grabbed it without checking the caller ID.

Then he saw it—Mummy.

His jaw tightened. Not now.

“Oh my God, Mummy, not now. I am angry right now…” He exhaled sharply before forcing himself to speak. “Hello.”

His mother’s voice came through, smooth and direct.

“I just called to tell you that I have a party coming up, and I must attend. I need you to work on it—send me money.”

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Think of your mother first before any other girlfriend,” she continued. “I suffered raising you. She did nothing.”

Before he could respond, her voice softened—almost mockingly.

“Have a nice day.”

The line went dead.

Caleb pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the screen, his chest rising and falling in deep, heavy breaths.

He had no words.

No strength.

Just an overwhelming sense of suffocation.

The distant hum of city life filled Caleb’s ears as he pressed his phone tightly to the side of his head. A chorus of car horns, hurried footsteps, and muffled voices seeped through the thin walls of his apartment. It was late, but sleep was the last thing on his mind.

The phone buzzed in his palm, Cecilia’s name flashing across the screen. He inhaled sharply before swiping to answer.

“So what is it this time?” His voice was tight, drained.

Cecilia didn’t waste time. “I need 105k.”

Caleb sat up, rubbing his temple. “What for?”

“Please, guy, take things easy with me for once.”

His patience was hanging by a thread. “Just tell me what you need 105k for, Cecilia.”

“To move your son to your friend’s hospital.”

He frowned, confused. “So what do you need such an amount for?”

There was silence on the other end for a moment, then Cecilia’s voice returned, sharper this time. “Do you know where I am?”

Caleb blinked. “I don’t understand. Are you not in Lagos?”

“No.”

His grip on the phone tightened. “What?! So where are you?”

There was a pause, then her next words cut through him like a blade. “It shows how responsible you are as a father to the son you claim you love.”

He clenched his jaw, exhaling through his nose. “Can you please save me this nonsense and tell me where you are?”

“I am in Benin.”

Caleb shot to his feet. “What on earth did you just say?”

“I said I am in Benin City.”

His head pounded. “What are you doing in Benin?”

Her voice came cold and unbothered. “That is none of your business. Just send the money so I can pay for an ambulance to take him to your friend’s hospital in Lagos.”

Caleb squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the wave of frustration rising inside him. “What kind of human being is this for crying out loud?”

“The woman you made me after you got me pregnant and refused to marry me—after all your promises of never losing me.”

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself, but the anger in her voice was like fuel to an already burning fire. “Wait… is this a punishment or what exactly is going on here?”

Cecilia’s tone turned venomous. “Send me the money and don’t question me. And I tell you this—” her voice dropped, a quiet storm brewing beneath her words—“I will make sure your life ends up a mess the moment I step my foot in Lagos.”

The line went dead.

Caleb stared at the screen, his pulse hammering in his ears.

The weight of Cecilia’s words sat heavy on his chest, suffocating, unrelenting.

She wasn’t bluffing.

And that was the part that scared him the most.

Caleb let out a heavy sigh, pressing his palm against his forehead. His body ached—not from physical exhaustion, but from the relentless mental and emotional battles he had been fighting. It felt like the walls were closing in, suffocating him from all sides.

“Can I just have a day to myself to breathe?” he muttered under his breath.

But life, as always, had other plans.

He glanced at the screen and exhaled. Another call. He considered ignoring it, but when he saw the caller ID, his irritation melted into concern.

“Oh, Sister Rejoice… how are you, my darling sister?” he answered, forcing a smile into his voice.

There was a brief pause before her soft voice came through. “I got your message. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m happy to hear your voice,” Caleb said sincerely.

“I need to tell you something, my darling,” she said, her tone heavy.

Caleb sat up straighter. “Okay, I’m with you.”

There was another pause, this time longer. Then, in a voice trembling with emotion, she spoke.

“I know suicide cannot be a solution to any problem. Choosing to end my life is frightening and depressing, with no easy answers… Hmm, Caleb.”

His breath hitched. “Yes, sister?”

“The world is an unfair place,” she continued, her voice cracking. “And suicide is often a desperate attempt to escape suffering that has become unbearable. As I speak to you right now, I am clueless about what else to do. My house rent is almost due, my family—those who could have helped—are all in the UK, I have very little money, and no job prospects. And now…” She took a shaky breath. “Hearing that my husband relocated to the United States with another woman is just too much. It’s painful. It’s mysterious. I am full of despair.”

Caleb closed his eyes, feeling an ache in his chest as she spoke.

“It’s tough because the pain is real, Caleb. Sometimes it’s suffocating. But I know—deep down—I know that suicide is not the answer. I feel so alone, so hopeless, and this feeling engulfs me, tempting me to give up. But no… there can never be a good enough reason, morally or spiritually, to take my own life. So, I want you to know that I will be fine.”

Caleb remained silent, listening, his throat tight.

Then, her voice broke completely.

“God sees my heart. He sees that this is too much for me, and I am so sure He will rise for my sake. Haa, my God…”

Sobs overtook her words, but she pressed on, her voice filled with raw agony.

“Hear me, Lord, and answer me, for I am poor and needy. Establish my steps in Your word. Let Your compassion quickly meet our needs, because we are on the brink of despair. You said You would hear me when I cry to You, God. Father, hear my cry and help me! Send help to me, Lord! I am in a strange land. Protect me, God, because I take refuge in You. I say to You, Lord, You are my God; apart from You, I have nothing good… Ha, Lord, this is too much for me. It is too much!”

Her cries tore into Caleb’s heart. He wanted to reach through the phone, to hold her, to ease her pain, but he could do nothing except listen.

Then, her voice softened, drained of strength but still clinging to hope. “Caleb, please… don’t stop praying for me, I beg of you. At this point, I have no other option but to get a job, even if it’s a menial one—something to help me survive. It is well… it is well.”

Caleb swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sister, just as your name implies, you will rejoice. I don’t care how long it takes, but one thing is certain—you will rejoice.”

A faint, exhausted chuckle came through the line. “Thank you, brother, for giving me a listening ear.”

“Actually, sister, there is nothing special I can tell you that is more than what you have already said yourself. But I will be praying for you. Please, make sure you also keep praying and trusting God. He will come through for us all.”

There was silence. Then, softly, she called his name.

“Caleb?”

“Yes, sister?”

“How are you?”

He hesitated for a moment before replying, “I am okay. God is with me.”

“What exactly are you going through at the moment?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, attempting to brush it off. “Money is all I need at the moment, and I’m sure God will sort it.”

She let out a small sigh. “My brother… if all you are going through is something that money can solve, then just start praising God. Because those are the least of problems anyone can ever face.”

Her words hit him like a revelation, piercing through the haze of his own struggles.

“Hmmm,” was all he could say in response.

“Please, make sure you take care of yourself,” she added.

“I will surely do,” Caleb promised.

“Great.”

Caleb sat there, staring at his phone screen long after the call had ended. His sister’s pain weighed on him like a stone pressing against his chest, but her faith, her unshaken belief in God despite everything, humbled him.

He let out a breath and leaned back against the wall.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as impossible as they seemed.

Caleb sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, fingers pressed into his temples. His mind was a storm of thoughts, a whirlwind of frustration, exhaustion, and helplessness.

“What a world! What a world!!” he muttered to himself. “Why will a man be this wicked?”

He groaned, his shoulders tensing as he glanced at his phone screen. His stomach twisted in irritation.

“Why must this woman call me?” he grumbled. “What is all this? Everything about her is parties. She doesn’t even care about what her children are going through. As long as she can attend those parties, she’s satisfied.”

He sighed deeply before reluctantly answering.

“Hello, mummy.”

Her voice came through, bright and cheerful as ever.

“My son o!”

Caleb exhaled. “Hmmm.”

“Haba, why will you reply to me in such a cold manner?” she asked, her tone tinged with feigned offense.

“Mummy, what is it this time? Which party do you want to go to again?”

“Haba! I just wanted to thank you for the money you sent. You needed to see how your mother dressed to the party! People were just looking at me—some were even stealing glances! Oh, I was so happy!”

Caleb forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s great, mummy. You’re welcome.”

But he knew what was coming next.

“But my son, please o,” she continued, “there is another party coming up next month, and I would like to go.”

Caleb closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

“Mummy…”

“Yes, my son?”

He took a deep breath. “Can I tell you something?”

“Okay, go ahead, my son.”

“Guess my salary.”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

“What is the meaning of that?” she asked, her voice suddenly sharp.

“No, please, how much do you think my monthly salary is?”

Her tone turned suspicious. “Is this some kind of bait so that you will not send me money for my next party?”

Caleb ignored the question. “Mummy, my salary is 180,000 naira. Out of that, I send you 40,000 naira every month. And that’s aside from the extra money you force out of me for Aso-Ebi and other things.”

Another silence.

Then her voice came, laced with irritation. “So what are you trying to say right now?”

Caleb clenched his jaw. He knew she wouldn’t take this well, but he had to say it.

“Mummy, all I’m saying is, please, try not to choke me. I don’t have a money tree in my house.”

The line went eerily silent for a few seconds. Then, her voice came, sharp and cutting.

“You must be very stupid for what you have just said.”

Caleb’s head snapped up. “What!”

“Yes, I repeat it—you must be very stupid for saying that nonsense to me. What do you mean?”

His mother’s voice rose with indignation.

“Do you think raising you was easy for me? I collected my salary and threw everything on the table just to feed you and your sister. I didn’t have any percentage to myself—I dropped every single damn kobo to raise you!”

Caleb swallowed hard.

“You think that was easy for me?” she continued, her voice shaking with emotion. “I never got tired of raising you up! I gave you life! I sacrificed my life for you and your sister! I was blind to my own needs throughout your childhood just to give you a future! And now, you’re telling me I am choking you?”

Her voice cracked, then hardened again.

“What guts you have to say that to me?”

Caleb sighed heavily. His heart pounded in his chest, emotions clashing inside him—frustration, guilt, exhaustion, and an overwhelming need to be understood.

“I’m sorry, Mummy. But please, I also have a life to live.”

“So you’re saying what exactly?” she snapped.

He inhaled deeply, choosing his words carefully. “Mummy, please… can you not go for this particular party? Can you stay home and rest this time?”

Silence.

Then her voice came through, low and laced with cold finality.

“Okay, fine. Get out of my phone.”

Caleb let out a long breath, his head dropping into his hands. The weight of his mother’s words sat heavily on his shoulders. He understood her sacrifices. He respected them. But when would she see that he was drowning too?

He was tired.

Tired of giving.

Tired of never being enough.

Tired of carrying a burden that no one ever seemed to acknowledge.

For once, he just wished… someone would care about him too.

Caleb sat in the dimly lit room, his fingers idly drumming against the wooden table. The weight of his thoughts pressed down on him like an invisible hand squeezing his chest.

“My God,” he whispered, staring blankly at the flickering lightbulb above him. “I hope this woman knows I can close my eyes at her just like my sister did…”

His throat tightened. He had watched his sister, Rejoice, sever ties with their mother, leaving her to her fate. And now, here he was, at the edge of that same precipice, wondering if he had the strength—or the heart—to walk away too.

But then, what would be his gain?

“If I do that and this woman dies, what will be my gain?” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples. His thoughts spiraled, tangled in frustration, guilt, and exhaustion.

“My God, please help me.”

The line rang, each tone stretching his anxiety.

“Hello, Idera,” he finally said when she picked up.

Her voice came through, light but distant.

“How far, young man?”

“I am coping,” Caleb responded, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Okay, great. How far with the money?” she asked, her tone flat.

Caleb closed his eyes briefly. He knew this question was coming, yet it still cut deep.

“Idera, please, I am sorry. I don’t have it yet.”

A beat of silence. Then, her response came, controlled and detached.

“Okay, no problem. Just have me in mind.”

His chest tightened. He could hear the underlying shift in her voice, the unspoken words behind her casual response.

“Okay,” he said, his voice softer now.

“Alright, please take care,” she added, the call already feeling like it was fading.

“I will,” he replied.

Caleb sighed, tossing his phone onto the bed. His mind raced.

“Nawa o,” he muttered. “When will all these end for crying out loud?”

His thoughts drifted back to Idera. Something wasn’t right. She wasn’t normally like this. Their conversations were usually warm, playful even—but today, her words carried an unfamiliar chill.

“But why is Idera all of a sudden cold towards me?” he mused aloud. “She is not normally like this… Something is wrong somewhere.”

He hesitated for a moment, then reached for his phone again. His thumb hovered over her number before he pressed call.

The line picked up on the second ring.

“Hello, young man,” Idera answered.

“Idera,” he said, his tone more serious now.

“Yes?”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

“Something is wrong.”

A short silence. Then, her voice came back, curious but measured.

“Wrong? What is wrong?”

Caleb exhaled. “You are not yourself.”

“How do you mean?” she asked, her voice neutral.

“I don’t know how to put it,” he admitted.

“Put it anyhow,” she challenged.

He ran a hand down his face, then finally asked, “Did I offend you in any way?”

“Not at all,” she responded too quickly.

His chest tightened. “Are you sure?”

“100 percent,” she replied, her voice unwavering.

Caleb exhaled, unsure if he believed her.

“Okay, thank you.”

“Stay safe, bro.”

“And you too, dear.”

“Yep.”

Caleb sat there, staring at his phone, a deep frown etching into his forehead. He knew her too well to believe that everything was fine. There was something in her voice—a distance, a hesitation—that told him she was holding something back.

And for the first time in a long time, a new worry settled in his heart.

Something was definitely wrong with Idera.

And he needed to find out what it was.

The sharp clatter of Caleb’s keyboard filled the dimly lit room as he mindlessly tapped his fingers against the keys. His frustration simmered beneath the surface, his thoughts a tangled mess of regret and exhaustion.

His phone sat beside him, buzzing insistently. He glanced at the screen. Cecilia.

His jaw tightened. He let out a weary sigh before reluctantly picking up the call.

“What do you have to say this time, Cecilia?” His voice was already laced with irritation.

Her response was immediate, sharp like a blade.

“I will swear for you if you call my name again in your stupid mouth.”

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. This woman and her endless anger.

“Calm down, Cecilia.”

“I said don’t call my name! Are you sure you don’t want misfortune in your life?”

His patience wavered, but he fought to keep his voice even.

“Hey, hold it. What sort of thing is this? Must you always be the reason for my sad day?”

Her voice dripped with venom.

“E no go better for you as you talk that kind thing to me.”

Caleb clenched his fists. “Cecilia, what have I done to deserve this much from you?”

Her voice turned shrill. “I said don’t call my name! Are you mad?”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he muttered, trying to avoid another outburst.

But her rage knew no bounds. “I just hate you.”

Caleb exhaled. “Okay.”

“You are a bad person. A bad partner. And a bad father.”

His heart pounded in his chest. “How? Please, tell me.”

“I will tell you,” she hissed. “A good person, a good partner, and a good father is known for being there through thick and thin, not just being physically present. It’s about being consistently available. So I ask you—are you there for me and your son?”

Caleb swallowed.

“When last did you call me yourself and ask how I’m doing? In fact, since I’ve been in this hospital, how many times have you called? I have been the one calling you!”

Her words hit like a slap.

“Your involvement in this whole thing is poor! You are not engaged in our child’s life, his interests, his hopes, his dreams. Where is your compassion when our son needs it most?”

Caleb ran a hand over his face.

“I don’t know the essence of your education. You don’t even have value for me—his mother! No respect. No love.”

His patience finally cracked. “Wait, is this about you or about our son?”

“Are you mad?! Don’t interrupt me!”

“I’m sorry.”

She continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “This is your problem. You don’t listen! Listening with rapt attention is expected of a man who was so eager to spread a woman’s legs like you. But you? You are so poor mentally that you don’t put yourself in other people’s shoes. You don’t make people feel heard, respected, or valued. All you do is talk anyhow!”

Her voice shook with anger. “Instead of you to communicate clearly, to uphold guidelines, to be tough yet fair, you just act like an animal. Don’t you for once take time to think? Have you ever considered that you could be wrong sometimes?”

Caleb’s breathing grew heavier.

“Be human, Caleb. To be human means we have to show our humanity as often as possible. Accept that you can be wrong sometimes! Live with honesty and integrity. Every time, you are harsh and hard—when did you die, Caleb?”

His body stiffened. “I am alive and not dead in Jesus’ name.”

“Shut your mouth! Don’t interrupt me!”

She laughed bitterly. “The Caleb I know is dead—or better still, in a coma. The Caleb I fell in love with delighted in me. He played, he laughed, he made me feel alive. But you? You don’t even have a healthy work ethic! You are lazy! You don’t know the meaning of personal accomplishment or satisfaction.”

She sighed dramatically. “Go to sleep, Caleb. And wake up as the man I used to know.”

There was silence. Then, in a lower voice, she added, “Now, you can talk.”

Caleb let out a slow breath. “So what do you want me to say? Do you think all you’ve said will make me feel good? Are you even correcting me, or are you just trying to break me?”

Her voice was ice. “Now I see—trying to change your life for good is never going to work. You are just a waste to humanity.”

Caleb’s jaw locked.

“I am sure you are the product of rough play. You were not planned for. That is where your problem started.”

His head snapped up. A sudden rage surged in his veins. “Enough. I say enough! I repeat, enough!”

“Hey, animal, don’t kill yourself. No one is interrupting you.”

Caleb’s nostrils flared. “I know your plan. You want me to get angry and do something bad. This is what women like you do to push men into jail. But I will not fall for it. Nothing you have said counts. You can’t frustrate me.”

She scoffed. “Frustrate you? What are you talking about?”

His voice dropped to a dangerous calm. “You think I don’t know your history? You did this to three other men before me. Where is Lekan? Where is Wale? Where is James?”

There was a pause.

“What is all this?” she finally asked, her voice quieter now.

“Answer the question.”

A thick silence stretched between them. Then, at last, she muttered, “This conversation is over.”

Caleb let out a hollow laugh. “Of course, it is. You frustrated those men, and now they are in jail because they all snapped. They beat you. And after that, you accused them of rape. That is what you want to do to me too, right?”

She inhaled sharply. “Caleb, stop—”

“No. It won’t work. I refuse to be your next victim. Have a good day.”

Caleb threw his phone onto the bed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths.

“What a wicked woman you are.”

He clenched his fists.

“Lord, what have I done to myself?”

Regret curled around him like a suffocating fog. He knew the exact moment he had sealed his fate.

“If only I hadn’t slept with her that day… No, it wasn’t even at night—it was one hot afternoon.”

His eyes burned.

“My God, what sort of struggle is this?”

He shut his eyes, trying to silence the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. But there was no escaping the truth.

He was trapped.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4

Dear Readers,

Thank you for taking the time to read this Holy Spirit inspired novel BOOK OF CALEB. Your interest and engagement with this story mean the world to us. Writing this novel was a journey of meditation on God’s word, reflection, and inspiration, and knowing that it has reached you is incredibly fulfilling. Your support inspires me to keep creating Holy Spirit filled stories that captivate the mind and stir the heart. We deeply appreciate your thoughts, feedback, and the moments you’ve spent with this work. Thank you for being a part of this journey. I look forward to sharing more stories with you in the future!

We hope this message finds you well. We are writing to humbly seek your financial support for our novel, BOOK OF CALEB. And future creative endeavors. Writing this story has been a transformative journey, and we are committed to bringing more meaningful and impactful stories to life. However, continuing this work requires resources.

Your support would go a long way in helping us cover publishing and creating more contents. Any contribution, no matter the size, would be deeply appreciated and would make a significant difference in our ability to sustain and grow as a ministry.

If you’re able and willing to assist, please let us know how we can discuss this further. We are more than happy to provide more details or explore any other ways we might collaborate to achieve this goal.

Thank you so much for considering our request and for your continued encouragement. Your belief in our ministry is what motivates us to keep writing and sharing stories with the world.

Warm regards,
Wordcredo Productions

+2347060643211 [whatsapp]

It is our belief at WORDCREDO PRODUCTIONS that you have been blessed. There are other spirit filled novel still available. Click on the bellow.