“Oh God, oh God, hear my prayer. Develop this land,” Jola prayed. He was on the 31st day of a 40-day fast. Only nine more days but it didn’t look like the Lord was going to answer his prayers this time either. Jola had prayed over the 12 acres of land he inherited from his father. It had been a farm in his grandfather’s day but Jola and his father were city people. Jola had thought of selling it outright but nobody around had solid cash to put down. If only it could be developed into a housing estate…

“Oh God, Oh God! Provide an investor!” Perhaps I should extend my fasting to fifty days. Then, the Lord would answer.

“Hello,” the stranger said. “Are you the owner of this piece of land?” He walked up and down, noting the overgrown ridges that once held yams and casava. Broken palm trees looked like gaunt farmhands hoeing a ridge. Refuse littered the ground, perhaps blown from the dumps at one end of the land.

“Yes, yes, this is my land.” Jola sized up the stranger. He looked like money. God had finally answered his prayers.

“Then you’re the man I’m looking for,” the stranger said. “Let’s talk business.” They sat and talked. Jola laid out his ideas and the stranger presented his intent.

The two shook hands on the deal. Jola walked away believing he had brokered a partnership to develop his land into a housing estate. The stranger marveled at how easily he had acquired land for his chemical plant.