An unlikely counselor II

Continued from last week

‘Just nine months later, my new wife delivered her first child. Today she has four children with me. So you see those children were destined to be born and because my wife was totally against any other woman marrying me, she had to die to pave the way for what was decreed to happen. I don’t want you to encounter the same fate Hajiya.’ He concluded.
I looked at him in disbelief. How can a man who came so highly-recommended by his patrons, as miracle-worker, just prefer to discourage me rather than show me his expertise? At length I said to him ‘I am very sorry to hear about your wife Malam. May Almighty Allah grant her mercy. Is there anyone here who can take me to the mosque you are talking about?’
‘There is no need for anyone to escort you Hajiya. Like I said, it’s just around the corner once you take this route to your right. Go there and do something sincerely for the love of God. You will see how your problem will disappear in sha Allah.’ He urged.
‘Well I hope so, since you wouldn’t give me a guarantee when I asked you earlier. Here, take this and buy something for the children.’ I said, offering him money.
‘No I won’t take this from you, especially now that I have found you a project that promises to eat up a bit of your money.  So go ahead and do as I said and be prayerful too. That helps a lot.’ He advised.
‘All right, thank you Malam.’ I replied, walking away to my car. I did as he directed and soon found myself face to face with the mosque, well more like the ruins of it. I got down from my car and got a good look at it. The mosque obviously needed a lot of repair work and nothing half way will make it habitable. So I drove home totally engrossed in planning how to raise the money for it. Amazingly since I began to think about the idea, I completely forgot about the issue of my husband and another woman. It was only when I saw him at home that I remembered. But by then a strange serenity had come over me. Maybe it was borne out of the wise words that spiritualist told me. You know I was particularly touched by the story of his late wife. So I found myself not caring a hoot what the situation with my husband was. All I cared about was how to raise enough money to rebuild that mosque. Before that week ran out I got hold of an architect and by the weekend I brought him here to assess the work and advice me on what to do. I told my husband I was assigned to supervise a Lady’s Parliament project and he simply accepted it. We started the work two months after I first came here and we concluded it six months later. Now since the last day I came and inspected the paintwork, I never returned. I got the architect and my brother to do the handover of keys to the imam. They were invited to pray in the mosque and also join in a special prayer for me. It must have worked because honestly I have never felt as much at peace with the world and myself as I have done in these recent months. Today, I made up my mind to come and see the place because my brother said the road is still difficult to navigate, so if I could help them make a rural feeder road, things could be easier for the villagers. That was why I brought you along Bint. I wanted you to see if we can truly make it a Lady’s Parliament project because I no longer have any valuables left that I can sell to finance the project. But if the parliament adopts it we can all chip in and get the road rehabilitated. Or what do you think?’ She asked.
‘I think it’s worth trying Asabe. We really should mobilize and work on this road. But what an amazing story. I mean those sorcerers never miss a chance to make money out of people like you, who still believe in their prowess. So it’s unheard of for one of them to not only refuse the work but to also counsel you on something better and more edifying. This Malam is definitely a rare breed. An unlikely counselor who had saved you from unnecessary heartache and also showed you the way to sadaqaril jariyah, you know, the everlasting charity that continues to earn you rewards even after death.’ I observed.  
‘Yes he is, and I shall remain eternally grateful to him.’ Asabe said happily.