DEMILADE PART 4

DEMILADE PART 4

Hopeful Moment

The evening breeze carried the scent of damp earth and the distant chatter of people heading home. The sky, tinged with hues of orange and violet, cast a soft glow over the small courtyard where Motayo sat alone. A single lantern flickered beside her, its golden light casting long shadows on the ground. She cradled her guitar, her fingers gently strumming its strings, weaving melodies into the silence around her.

Her voice, rich and haunting, rose into the evening air, blending with the rhythmic hum of nature:

Wa gbo adura mi Ba mi se k’emi le ro go lo Laye Jesu gbo adura mi o Wa ba mi se k’emi le ro go lo Laye

The song was a plea, a cry from the depths of her soul. Motayo closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her emotions pressing against her chest. Tears welled up but did not fall. Instead, they clung to her lashes, reflecting the dim light like tiny crystals.

Her fingers stilled on the guitar. She lifted her face to the heavens, whispering into the cool night air, “Why, Lord? Why am I still here? Why am I still crawling? I have stayed too long in this place, waiting. I know this is my waiting period, and You decide when I am to leave this waiting room, but I am growing weary, Lord. You gave me Your word, You placed it in my mouth, and I am ready.”

A deep sigh escaped her lips. She clenched her hands into fists before placing them on her lap, as if grasping onto some unseen strength. Her voice trembled but did not break. “Let Your will be done, Lord. Give me the grace to wait.”

She took a deep breath and began to sing again, her voice growing stronger, filled with conviction:

Channels of my spirit open up I am with the Father, open up No boundaries, no limits, open up Let deep call unto deep, open up

The night air quivered with her declaration. Her voice, now resolute, carried through the quiet, a battle cry against every unseen force that held her back. She pressed her palm against her chest, her heart pounding beneath it.

“Every boundary, I destroy you by the power in the name of Jesus. No limitations, in Jesus’ name. I break every limitation, whatever it may be! I break into my days of great manifestation! No limitation! No boundaries!”

The guitar, now forgotten, rested beside her as she stood to her feet. She lifted her hands, her head tilted toward the sky, her body trembling with intensity. The night air seemed charged with her faith, her desperation, her unwavering belief.

Channels of my spirit open up I am with the Father, open up No boundaries, no limits, open up Let deep call unto deep, open up

Her voice cracked slightly, but she pushed through, every word uttered with force. She swayed, overcome by the presence she could feel surrounding her. Her breath came in short bursts as she uttered her final plea:

“Lord, You told me I would meet a man—a man You will use for me. Where is this man? Wherever he is, let him show up, in Jesus’ name! Lord, that man who will change my story for good, let him appear! Connect me with my destiny helper! Breathe Your fresh breath upon me, strengthen me, Lord!”

She sank to her knees, her chest rising and falling with exhaustion, with faith, with an urgency only the desperate could understand. The night air remained still for a moment, as if the heavens themselves were listening.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, silence fell over the courtyard. Only the whispering wind remained, carrying away her words into the unknown. Motayo let out a shaky breath, her lips pressing together in quiet surrender.

She had spoken. Now, she would wait.

The Calling

The soft hum of piano keys filled the air, blending seamlessly with the gentle whisper of the evening breeze. In the dimly lit room, Demilade stood over his suitcase, carefully folding a pair of jeans before placing them inside. He worked methodically, his mind preoccupied with the journey ahead.

Just three tops, two pairs of jeans, and a short, he thought to himself. That should be enough for a few days.

He barely heard the door creak open until a familiar voice called his name.

“Son.”

Startled, he turned quickly. “Wow, you are here.”

Mr. Rett stood in the doorway, his piercing gaze fixed on him.

“Where are you going? You’re packing to travel already?” Mr. Rett asked, stepping inside the room.

Demilade exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “Please tell me it is not what I am thinking.”

Mr. Rett’s expression remained unreadable. “It depends on what you are thinking, son.”

A shiver ran down Demilade’s spine. He swallowed hard. “Have I been involved in another accident? Am I in a coma again?”

Mr. Rett shook his head. “No, not at all. You are only sleeping.”

Relief washed over Demilade like a wave. “Oh, thank God.”

Mr. Rett walked closer, his tone shifting. “So what is going on here?”

Demilade sighed, gesturing toward the half-packed suitcase. “Sir, I’m just planning to go on a journey. A short one. I need to fix some things and then return.”

A heavy silence filled the room before Mr. Rett spoke again. “Son, why are you shooting yourself in the leg?”

“What?” Demilade asked, his brow furrowing.

“This journey you’re planning,” Mr. Rett said solemnly, “if you embark on it, you are not likely to come back.”

A cold chill settled in Demilade’s chest. “Really?”

“Does it look like a journey that guarantees your return?” Mr. Rett’s voice was gentle but firm.

Demilade’s throat tightened. “I am sorry, Lord.”

Mr. Rett sighed, scanning the room. “Look at your house that I cleaned up myself. It’s getting dirty again. These are foot stains from visitors you should not have allowed to enter. You have been careless, allowing people with dirty shoes into your house.”

Guilt gnawed at Demilade. He clenched his fists. “I am sorry, Lord. I will be careful henceforth.”

Mr. Rett placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me, son. You are needed. I selected you because I chose to have mercy on you. Do not abuse the grace you are enjoying.”

“I am sorry, Lord,” Demilade whispered. “It’s just… it’s just a big cross to carry.”

“That is because you do not yet know who you are,” Mr. Rett said firmly. “You are a giant, not a dwarf.”

Demilade sighed heavily. “But I am scared. How do I cope? This work is big. I need money. How do I raise money for this project?”

Mr. Rett smiled. “A lot of seeds have already been planted into the ground by your parents. You have more than enough seeds in the ground. Ride on that as you start planting your own.”

A sense of awe filled Demilade’s heart. “Wow… I never knew that, sir.”

Mr. Rett’s voice grew stronger. “You are a powerhouse, and you must come to full function. Many people with great dreams and assignments from the Lord are waiting on you. Their tears reach the Father in Heaven. You are delaying them. You must act quickly.”

Demilade nodded. “I choose to function, Lord. But how do I know these people? I will meet so many—both the right and the wrong ones.”

“You have already met the first major one,” Mr. Rett said, his gaze deepening. “But you have been deceived into turning your back on her.”

Demilade’s breath hitched. “Are you talking about Motayo?”

“Yes. She is a mighty end-time tool.”

Demilade felt a pang of regret. “But I was told to stay away from her—that she is dangerous.”

“She is a great danger to the kingdom of the devil,” Mr. Rett said with a knowing smile. “So yes, the person who warned you spoke the truth.”

Demilade gasped. “Oh my God! But why would she say it in a way that scared me away from her?”

“Not everything will be revealed to you now,” Mr. Rett said. “As time goes on, you will understand.”

Determination flooded Demilade’s heart. “I have to find her.”

“Be fast about it,” Mr. Rett urged.

“I will.”

Mr. Rett’s eyes softened. “Fear not. I am with you. Do not be dismayed. I will not leave you stranded.”

A warmth spread through Demilade’s chest. “Thank you, sir.”

Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and saw “Mummy” displayed. He quickly picked up the call.

“Hello, Mummy.”

“Son, how are you?” his mother’s voice came through, laced with concern.

“I am fine, Mummy.”

There was a pause. “My son, I just had a revelation about you right now.”

Demilade sat up straighter. “Okay, Mummy, what is it?”

“God dropped a word in my heart,” she said. “I want you to pray about it for better understanding. God said, ‘That house is your life. Guard it jealously.’”

Demilade’s eyes widened. “Wow… Mummy, I understand it perfectly.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes, Mummy, I do. Thank you for sowing so many seeds in me and into the ground in my name. I will not fail you, and I will not fail God.”

“Amen,” she whispered, emotion thick in her voice. “And God will help you, in Jesus’ name.”

“Amen.”

“Have a nice day, dear.”

“And you too, Mummy.”

The call ended. Demilade closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He knew what he had to do.

And this time, he would not fail.

Divine Alignment

The cool evening breeze whispered through the open window, rustling the curtains as Motayo sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers delicately plucking the strings of her guitar. The soft melody of her song filled the room, carrying with it an air of deep reverence and gratitude.

With her eyes closed, she sang passionately:

“With a grateful heart I lift my hands to You Proclaiming Lord You reign With a grateful heart I lift my hands to You Proclaiming Lord You reign (You reign)”

Her voice, clear and full of devotion, rose with each note, filling the space with an undeniable presence of worship. Her soul poured into every word, acknowledging the greatness of the One she served.

“Great are You Lord Greatly to be praised Greatly to be praised Father You reign”

As she sang, her mind drifted to the many nights she had spent in prayer, crying out to God for direction, for purpose. She had endured so much—longing, waiting, believing—but tonight, something felt different. She could sense an answer brewing in the spirit.

She spoke, her voice rhythmic, matching the flow of her melody. “Come search my heart, Lord. It’s full of You. I’m ready to be used by You. If You hear my cry and move help towards me, all I will do is—”

Her voice broke into another song:

“I will put you in front In front of my melody You’re all that matters You’re all that matters I’ll make room for two You and I, Jesus You’re all that matters You’re all that matters”

The music wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, and she lifted her hands in surrender. “You are all that matters in my life, Lord. Thank You for where I was, thank You for where I am, and thank You for where You are taking me.”

The soft tune of her song was suddenly interrupted by the shrill sound of her phone ringing. She opened her eyes, momentarily disoriented by the break in worship, and glanced at the screen.

Mr. Demilade.

She hesitated. Why was he calling her? The last time they had spoken, it had not ended on the best of terms. Still, she picked up.

“Hello, sir.”

“Hello, my sister, how are you doing today?” Demilade’s voice came through, warm yet hesitant.

“I am fine, sir. And how is your end?” she replied politely, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

“We give God praise. Please, can you talk where you are, or are you in the middle of something?”

“I can talk, sir.”

“Okay, thank God. Actually, I called to apologize. I guess the way I attended to you the last time you called was not very good.”

Motayo smiled softly. “Haba, sir, it is fine. I am okay. It’s not a problem.”

“I hope I am forgiven?”

“I did not take any offense in the first place, sir.”

“Okay, nevertheless, I still want to apologize.”

She chuckled lightly. “Okay, sir. Apology accepted.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome, sir.”

Demilade’s tone shifted slightly, growing more serious. “Secondly, my sister…”

“Yes, sir?”

“I got the leading to call you back and host a continuous program with you. I have been on it for some time. Actually, that day you called me, I had an encounter with God, and He cleared all the fears and doubts I had about you. Then He demanded that I start up something with you.”

Motayo’s breath hitched slightly. “Wow, God is awesome.”

“Yes,” Demilade agreed. “So I have been praying since then, and now I see the need to let you know about this and start discussing how to make it work.”

“Okay. What is the idea, sir?” she asked, intrigued.

“God has made me understand that He has placed messages on the lips of many, but those people don’t have a platform. God said my duty is to create a platform for them. So I started it already. It’s called HOTGIST CREW.”

“Hotgist? What does that mean?”

“House of the Giant Squad. A community of giants winning souls for God.”

Motayo felt a surge of excitement. “Wow! Sir, I am in. What do we do after this?”

“When will you be available to come for a meeting in my office?”

“Anytime good for you is also good for me.”

“Can we make it tomorrow morning, then?”

“Yes, sir. Please, where is your office?”

“I will text you the address.”

“Okay, I will be expecting it.”

“I will do that once I drop this call.”

“Okay, sir.”

“Do have a wonderful night’s rest.”

“You too, sir.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, sir.”

The call disconnected, and Motayo sat in silence for a moment, the reality of what had just happened washing over her. She exhaled deeply, lifting her eyes to the heavens. “Jesus, I thank You. You are God. Thank You for finally remembering me. I don’t take this for granted, Lord. Faithful is Your name, oh God.”

A new season was about to begin.

A Call from the Past

The night was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the wind outside Demilade’s window. He sat on his bed, deep in thought, his mind racing with plans for the days ahead. His journey had taken an unexpected turn, and though he felt a sense of peace, there was still a weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders.

Then, the sharp ring of his phone shattered the silence. He furrowed his brows, glancing at the screen. The number was unfamiliar. His first instinct was to ignore it, but something nudged him to answer.

“Hello?” His voice was cautious but firm.

A familiar voice drifted through the speaker, cold and controlled. “Demilade.”

His eyes widened in recognition. “Boss?” He hesitated. “Wow. Why did you use another number to call me?”

“Because you wouldn’t have picked up if you saw my name.”

He sighed. “Why wouldn’t I pick your call?”

There was a brief silence before she responded, her voice laced with disappointment. “Demilade.”

“Boss.”

“You promised me,” she said, her tone heavy with unspoken emotion. “You said you would show up. But you didn’t.”

Demilade exhaled deeply. He knew this conversation was inevitable, yet he had hoped to avoid it. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his tone resolute. “I can’t be involved in your business anymore.”

A sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Then a bitter chuckle. “I begged you. I did all I could to make you stay. Yet, you still disappointed me.”

Demilade closed his eyes briefly, summoning strength from within. “I have to do this,” he murmured.

There was a pause, then her voice turned icy. “I will fight back. Expect me in action.”

The line went dead.

Demilade lowered the phone from his ear, staring at the blank screen. His heart pounded, but he took a deep breath, steadying himself. He whispered into the stillness of the room, “There is nothing you can do. God is my defender.”

A Mother’s Pride

The soft melody of a happy piano tune filled the air as Demilade adjusted his tie, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. The morning sun streamed through his window, casting a warm glow on his face. Today was a big day, another step forward in the journey God had placed before him.

Just as he picked up his bag, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and smiled. Mummy.

He answered immediately, his voice filled with warmth. “Hello, Mummy.”

“Hello, son. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Ma. How about you?”

“I’m also fine, thank God,” she replied. “I just read an article about you. It talks about your ministry and the platform you’ve created for people to showcase their God-given talents.”

Demilade chuckled. “Yes, Mummy, you already know about it.”

“Yes, I do,” she admitted, “but I didn’t imagine it would become this big.”

“Mummy, we are just getting started. The world will know that God is here, and He is real.”

“Amen,” she responded with pride. Then, after a pause, she added, “Actually, I have something on my mind. Your former boss—what has she done since she gave her threat?”

Demilade sighed. “Nothing at all. I’ve even stopped thinking about it. God is my defender. If she tries anything, she will meet God in battle.”

His mother exhaled in relief. “That’s great. I love that. I believe God has silenced her, so no need to worry. Now, how about your program today?”

“It will be great by God’s grace. I’m already dressed and about to leave as soon as we end this call.”

“Okay, please be careful,” she warned. “You know this lady you’ve taken as your minister, hmmm… Be prepared that other ladies will run after you once they see what you have been able to do in Motayo’s life.”

Demilade laughed softly. “Mummy, just keep praying for me. I am careful, and God will help me.”

His mother’s tone became even more tender. “And don’t forget, you are not getting any younger.”

Demilade shook his head, smiling. “Mummy, don’t worry. I’ll come and see you today to discuss that with you.”

There was a pause, then a hint of excitement in her voice. “Wait… are you bringing the sister home?”

Demilade laughed again. “Which sister?”

“Is there a sister?” she pressed.

“Mummy, you know I won’t take any step without involving you.”

She sighed happily. “Aww, thank you, my son. As you have honored me, the world will honor you.”

“Amen.”

“I will be expecting you,” she said warmly.

Demilade smiled as he ended the call. His mother’s words lingered in his heart, a reminder that his journey was not just about him but about fulfilling a greater purpose. As he stepped out of his house, a new wave of determination filled his spirit. Today was another opportunity to make a difference.

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