My Chief Priest

I never found out his name, never ever saw a photo of him either. But I had great trust and respect for this person. He always said, "not to thank him, it is not his doing; it is the ancestors you need to thank." I always told him that he was the messenger, that he was the helping hand. We always chatted on WhatsApp; our way of communicating especially for videos. But we never spoke. I only imagined what his voice would sound like; like a deep African male voice. Sometimes his words made no sense at all, but I remembered that he would spell his words as he would pronounce them, and the spelling could be incorrect. So I sounded out some difficult words and made out what he meant to say; an example of this was 'Hemp' when he meant 'herb' anyway, you had to have an open mind when chatting with him and confirm that you understood.

He would be at the temple praying most of the time or he would be travelling to purchase ingredients/items for rituals. The time difference was awkward as Sydney Australia is 9 hours ahead of Nigeria, but we always found a way to make it work. If it wasn't daily, it could have been every two days that we would chat. When he was travelling, I wouldn't hear from him for a week. But, while he was away, I would still send him messages on any issues I may have and he would reply the moment he was back home. Dreams, that I would remember, he was able to decipher and make me understand the meaning or the message behind them. Not just in dreams, but in everything. Anything I would experience or notice, he was always able to tell me the message behind it.

There was one time, on my son's 16th bday; I was organising a day party for the friends and an evening for the family. As I finished setting everything up, I was walking around my yard in the nice warm sun, just walking around the perimeter, deep in thought, hoping that everything would turn out great for both events and that my illness wouldn't be a problem. By the second time I walked around, I noticed my dog like she was pointing at something. As I got closer, I saw a feather. A small white feather. The feather was not there on the first round of my walk. I took a photo of it and sent it to Chief Priest.

He was not able to identify the origin of this feather, as it didn't look like a typical feather. He was able to show and question the ancestors in prayer. He came back to me and asked me with which hand did I pick it up. I told him I would normally use my right hand, but for some reason, I used my left hand like there was a force or magnet to pick it up with my left hand. He replied that it was a special feather and I was blessed, there was a reason that it fell in my path. It was an answer from my ancestors that everything was going to be alright.

Both events turned out great. No troubles with the friends and both families all got along fantastic. As with my illness: no problem at all.

Overnight, Chief Priest blessed the feather and said to put it somewhere safe where it won't be touched or disturbed.

I had the perfect spot for it. I placed it in a small plastic container.

It was completely protected and safe, positioned right on my altar.

Everything that should be, shall be in perfect time.

Things are going to start moving forward for me, and I am so excited.

Some of the things Chief Priest had me do was to give fresh fruit/food to the homeless people to share the love and to give back. To give the Gods gratitude, thanks and praise for looking over me and guiding me on to the right path, without the struggles. He would bless a bucket of water for me to use around the house to clean and water the plants and flowers. The house was blessed and the plants were vibrant and thriving. Friends and families noticed the difference when entering my house; noticed that the house felt homey and welcoming, and those with special abilities felt protected and spiritual.

On September 29th 2021, I let Chief Priest know that I had started a Spiritual Journal and he replied with "why didn't you tell me beloved?" That was the last time we chatted.

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