WRITTEN BY ANIEKAN AKPAN
It was 9:15 am, Grandma – a devout Anglican had just returned from morning prayers, accompanied by Tim – the Bishop’s house help. He assisted her carry a ten litre of fluid.
“Kunle, Segun come here,” She said as she stepped out to the verandah after saying a brief prayer. Immediately, we ran to her. I was nine years old; Segun seven.
“Go and fetch one of the glasses Uncle Sam bought for me from my room’s Cabinet.” She asked motioning to me with smiles on her face. “Be careful not to break them,” She added.
I sped off and returned quickly. “Here it is.” I said and settled on the bench beside my brother.
“Hold it out.” Grandma said as she poured the content of the gallon into the glass. “This is holy water. The priest prayed over it.”
We – Segun and I, giggled excitedly. For us, it was an astonishing sight beholding the glass of clean water and more than that we were going to drink from one of Grandma’s glasses – this was a rare privilege! While we laughed, I looked up at her face, She was tearing.
I immediately remembered she once told us that clean water was a blessing from God. “It is Life itself. I lost three of my children because of its absence years ago,” I recalled clearly.
I gulped the water, thankful to God for the water of life!