EVERY TWO A.M.

                It happens every two a.m.

He knew that because once he’d tried to avoid it and had stayed up all night watching, waiting, avoiding the inevitable which he knew was to come.

     He hadn’t succeeded. He’d dozed off by one a.m. The hotness had come minutes later.

He could tell because he’d felt it. Somewhere in his subconscious he’d known when it had happened.

       And so it did. Every night. For twenty-six years he’d kept his awful secret. He told no one. How could he? It was too shameful to repeat to anyone.

               

                However, he’d gotten a certain courage two days ago. A courage that was birthed from the incidental meeting earlier that afternoon.

      It was her. She triggered the sudden change…the sudden impulse to solve his problem.

He hadn’t met a girl he was so taken by in all his twenty six years. At least no girl intrigued him enough to make him break his code of silence and reveal his secret…to make him ask another for help.

         As he made his way to the church auditorium, he felt the sweat trickling down his armpits. He was nervous. What would this man of God say? Would he laugh at his predicament first of all?

                The thought of anyone laughing at him almost made Biodun change his mind. He couldn’t take such humiliation. He wouldn’t take that from anybody.

       It wasn’t his fault he was this way. He’d taken all measures to stop it…this terrible two a.m. habit.

    No such luck.

“Welcome to God’s house brother.” A voice greeted

   He looked around. A man was standing in the shadows.

    “I’m Pastor Nnaji. You’ve come to the right place. God can solve any problem.”

 Not mine. Biodun wanted to say.

  Instead he grunted in reply.

 “Tell me your problem and I will pray for you.”

   Biodun told him without pausing.

      “Hmmmmmm. This is serious.” Pastor Nnaji shifted on his heel. “But don’t worry; nothing is too hard for God.”

   “So you can help me?” Biodun felt a flicker of hope.

    “God can help you. Come let me pray foryou. Kneel down there.”

                Andso the prayers started. Rigorous, energy-exerting prayers. Biodun kept nodding and saying Amen.

 At long last the prayer session was over and the pastor looked hard at him:

     “It’s your grandmother.” He said.

     No Pastor. It’s my bladder. He wanted to retort.

“She doesn’t want you to shine. She’s using it to tie you down. My brother...this is a serious condition.” The Pastor explained.

  “Yes sir.I know.”

       “God will heal you.” He clapped dramatically. “When last did you visit your village?”

    “Er…two months ago sir.”

       “Did you drink any water there?”

       No, I drank urine. Biodun wanted to say.

       “Yes sir.” He replied.

          “That is it.  Strange waters. Your grandmother in the village did something to you…but don’t worry. God is able. Come back again in three days…I will consult the Lord on your behalf. We have to consecrate you.”

      “Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

        “And come with an offering. The Lord has need of it.” He added slyly.

    Biodun nodded and walked out, dusting his feet and smiling to himself.

                He’d just been lied to. His visit to the village two months ago had been for his grandmother’s burial. How could a dead woman inflict a condition on him that has existed since he was a child?

           It was a mistake to come here. He knew.

    He wouldn’t make such a mistake again. He would live with his woes and pray that someday God might have mercy on him and he would wake up in the morning without having wetted his  bed at night.

                 Maybe God will miraculously take away his night visitor. Maybe he would sleep one day with an uneventful two a.m.

       Maybe…just maybe, he would meet the girl of his dreams at whose presence he would cease bed wetting.

                He could only hope.