When The Gods Blink

Akóriọlá trudged through the rain-soaked streets of Ikoyi, his battered umbrella barely holding together. A single strong gust, and—snap!—the useless thing flipped inside out like a dead fish. Perfect. Just perfect. Now, the rain didn’t just drizzle; it attacked, drenching him to the bone. He let out a sharp laugh, the kind that wasn’t really funny.

“What’s the damn point?” he muttered, shaking his head. Life had been playing this sick joke on him for years. A never-ending cycle of bad luck, poverty, and the whispers of people who thought his bloodline was cursed. He worked at a dingy canteen where dignity went to die, scrubbing greasy tables while customers barely looked at him.

And the worst part? Everyone knew his family’s story. It was almost like clockwork—once a man in their lineage neared thirty, things spiraled. His father. His grandfather. His uncles. All of them were carried down by an invisible force that no one could understand. First, they lost their jobs, then their friends, and finally their sanity. Depression devoured them all, one by one.

And society? Oh, it had its own twisted method to ensure that history repeated itself. No one wanted to be around them, as if their misfortune was contagious. The few who dared? Well… they always ended up the same way. Akóriọlá wasn’t even thirty yet. But he could feel it. The storm wasn't just in the sky—it was in his bones.Akóriọlá hadn’t always been like this. Once, he was a talented versatile actor with a master’s degree in Theatre Arts from Obafemi Awolowo University. He had a wife, two kids, and a sister who lived abroad.

A man with a future. A man with a name. Now? They all wanted nothing to do with him. The moment he lost his footing in life, they cut ties like he was infected with something incurable. His wife stopped picking his calls. His children barely remembered his voice. Even his sister, the one who used to call him "big bro" with so much admiration, had grown distant.

Everyone feared that whatever had ruined him would rub off on them. Some called it a curse. Others whispered that it was justice—punishment for the sins of ancestors long buried. "For I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children to the third and fourth generation," they quoted from the Bible, nodding like they had all the answers. Akóriọlá wasn’t sure what he believed anymore.

He sucked his teeth in frustration and turned the last corner leading to his tiny, barely furnished apartment. Rain pelted down harder, and the wind howled like a hungry beast. A streak of lightning tore across the sky, turning night into day for a split second.

He quickened his steps. There—just ahead. His house. A faint light flickered from the window. Almost there.

Then—BOOM!

A deafening clap of thunder shook the earth beneath his feet. The air itself seemed to split apart. Akóriọlá gasped. His vision went white. His ears rang. Then, silence. The last thing he felt was the cold, wet ground rushing up to meet him before the world slipped into nothingness.

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