This book is based on a true story. A story of sin and forgiveness, a story of sonship and slavery, a story of lust and love. A man fails because he has failed to accurately analyze his true strengths and weaknesses. He fails because he has not taken time to be honest with himself.
The filth hidden within his heart is suddenly exposed, embarrassing him, trapping him, enslaving him. He has judged others without first judging himself. He had no idea whatsoever what he was capable of until he was exposed to the right (or wrong) circumstances.
“Good to see you too…” , Philip responded after a short lag. Zainab leaned back and smiled again. It could have disarmed a Russian soldier. Philip glanced at the yellow handbag dangling from her left arm while looking for something else to focus on asides Zainab’s face. She broke the brief silence. “Please come help me with my big box”
“OK” Her hand slithered down his upper arm and back to her hand luggage as they both went back to the ninety-seater luxury bus. It was rowdy. Passengers were clamouring for their luggage while the bus conductors did their best to help maintain sanity. Zainab stayed an inch behind Philip pointing out her huge brown leather bag. It was out in a few minutes after just a little pushing and shoving and both walked side by side out of the park to the busy highway where Philip had parked on the covert. The ride was very chatty. One chatty lady with one responsive man creates a chatty ride in a brand-new city. Much of the conversation was about her experience with the trip and her questions about Ghana.
“… I hate sitting for long…” “Thank God you made it then. It’s not a problem for us…” “Us?” “When I was you we used to go home every Christmas like most Igbos. The bus ride is about ten hours…”