Spoilt At The Church
Episode 1
( A faith based fiction)
When Revd. Bamiro asked the worshipers to rise for the prayer at the end of the Bible study and the beginning of the prayer meeting, Kike saw an opportunity and jumped at it.
Moving out of the auditorium, she prayed her Mum wouldn’t notice her absence.
Leaving the Church during a service was against her family rules and regulations for Christian living. It was considered a grievous sin.
She knew what the consequence would be if caught. Even with that, the need to leave outweighed whatever punishment was in store for her. Therefore she took the risk and earnestly prayed that her parents wouldn’t observe, especially her eagle-eyed Mum.
Kike hated Church midweek services. She hated Bible studies and prayer meetings. She didn’t mind being at the choir practice; where she always had the opportunity of showcasing her talent, or the youth meeting; where she would be free to do whatever she liked without her parents watching her.
Kike detested services involving her and the adults.To her, Bible study was boring and depressing. She often questioned herself on what else she needed to know in the Bible. At age 17, she had read the Bible through three times. That was needed to qualify for various organizational requirements in the Church. She knew all the events in the Bible as she knew the palms of her hands and her name. Since she had represented the Church in countless Bible competitions and won many awards, she saw no new thing in the Bible that warranted adults being in Church every week to debate on and even tagging their innocent children along.
Kike envied friends whose parents weren’t strict on taking to Church for midweek services. Those were the busy types, or parents who didn’t see the necessity of children being in Church. Kike would give anything to be in their shoes. Anything to be at home now watching a film, reading a novel or doing anything different from being at Church and pitying herself.
As she left the Church compound hastily, she almost collided with a friend – Martha, who was rushing to join the service. Both of them were Church friends who knew each other through the various organizations they belonged to, and their joint activities in Church.
Martha was a young girl of about age 16. She was of average height, caramel colored and slightly plump with an oval shaped face and deeply dimpled cheeks that always gave her smile a picture of innocence and shyness.
Kike was a direct opposite of Martha. At 17, she had the height of a fully grown adult. She was pole like and lean, with a characteristic way of walking that made it look as if she would break into two. The features, coupled with her long legs, always made her feel awkward and inferior. She seldom smiled. Both of them were emerging adults and final year students in the secondary school.
Accepting Kike’s apology, Martha asked why she was in a hurry.
“I need to catch up with someone,” she replied. “By the way, why are you late?” She equally asked.
“Mum came back late from work. I was all along waiting for her, not knowing that she wouldn’t make it to Church.”
“You mean your parents are not here?”
“Yes! Dad is not in town.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I want to be,” Martha replied. “I like being in Church. Please let me go before I miss a good part of the prayers.”
She left Kike standing and gaping after her. “Imagine her coming for Bible study without being forced,” she said. “I wish we could exchange parents.”
Since she had lost time, Kike walked briskly, a little short of running. She turned to a corner and entered into a dark cluster of trees. Turning her head left then right, she moved into an uncompleted building where a lone man stood.
“What kept you long?” the man asked. He drew her towards him.
“Same old story,” she replied.
“Your Mum?”
“My parents.”
“I’m getting sick of this hide and seek game.” He shrugged. I wonder why your parents are behaving like mother hens watching over their chicks. I prefer a girl with freedom; a girl that I can see at any time I want. There are countless girls that would give anything to be my girlfriend in the Church.”
“Why are you talking like this?”
“To let you know that I might move on if things don’t change.”
“Please now Jide,” she pleaded. “Please don’t leave me. You know I love you.”
“I know.” He drew her closer. “Don’t mind me, I love you too. It’s just that I want more of you at all times.”
“Yes! But we need a little more patience. Once I get into the University, I will have all the freedom in the world.”
“That’s my girl. Now! Let’s have a quick one.”
“No Jide!” Kike protested. She drew back from him. “Not today.”
“Why not? I might not have the chance to be alone with you again for the next two weeks. As my only girl, you have to satisfy me.”
“Today is not right. I don’t have time to spare. There’s also an issue I want us to discuss.”
“What issue? I want you here and now,” Jide insisted.
“Ha! We are having too much se€x,” Kike replied. “I’m beginning to feel guilty. We should engage in productive activities.”
“Like? For crying out loud, when and how do we engage in productive activities? In the dark? In an uncompleted building? Do you have time for me? Maybe we should make babies as a productive activity. I will gladly ditch my c0nd0m if that’s what you want.”
Kike’s heart sank at the mention of babies. Does he know? Is it obvious? Is it possible? “That is even…” she started to say, but he cut her short.
“Feeling guilty is not in the equation of love. Forget about what you hear, or what is taught in the Church. It’s not easy for a relationship to survive without s.ex. You are just 17, with years before we could get married. Do you expect me to stay for those years without se.x? It won’t be possible. Lailai.”
“We are choristers,” Kike replied. We sing that fornication is not good. You are also a Sunday school teacher. Won’t God get angry and k.ill us the way he kil.led Ananias and Sapphira because of their pretense?”
“That? God is a merciful God. If not, a good number of our Church members would be d.ead by now. See! I can bet you that 80% of the youths in the choir are doing it. You talk as if fornication is the only sin God frowns at. There are bigger sins. Plenty!”
“I insist we reduce our intimate encounters.”
Jide looked her up and down and turned his head in anger. “Why this talk sef? ” He asked. “Is this the first time I’m demanding for it? Have we not had it at countless times? What is new? You were not a virgin when we first met? Were you not exposed before I had you? I knew the kind of challenge I would face by dating a Church girl like you; with your spiricoco mother and Deacon Father. Despite the hurdle, I threw caution to the wind and tamed my fear. I had the hope that I would meet you as a virgin.”
“Please stop,” Kike cried. She covered her ears.
“Stop what? The first misgiving I had about you was that, you gave no resistance to my love advances at the first trial. You fell cheap. So cheap. I was disappointedly surprised that your gate was without a barrier. Expecting to meet a narrow way that would lead me to paradise when I entered, I encountered a broad and worn out way. I pray you will not lead me to h.ell.”
“Jide!”
“Anyway, keep your body and let me know where you want this relationship to lead to.” Leaving her standing, he disappeared into the darkness.
Kike sank to her knees and burst into tears. “What will I do without you Jide? She whimpered. “Oh God! What will I do? He never cared to hear what I wanted to tell him.” She stood and cleaned her face.
Following Jide was out of context, except she wanted to get into a trouble that would further compound her problem. She brushed down her gown and ran to the Church. Into the waiting arms of a visibly enraged Mum and a confused Dad.
Kike felt as if the ground should open and swallow her. Her initial plan was to sneak into the Church unnoticed, but here she is to the full glare of all and sundry, sweating like someone that just finished running a marathon.
She walked past her parents to join her siblings in the car; weaving the story she would eventually tell them in her head.
Her parents were very active and committed members of Beulah Salvation Assembly. While her Dad was a Deacon, her Mum in addition to being a Deaconess was a strong member of the women fellowship and other Church organizations. The Pastor looked up to their family as role models and motivation for other families.
Since the parents were well respected, it was expected of the children to be of impeccable characters. They must also live in accordance with biblical principles and doctrinal beliefs. Anything short of this was frowned at.
The Johnson’s home was thus an extremely strict one; where the children were raised on laws that were meant to be obeyed and not be broken. There were laws on what to eat or not eat. Clothes to wear or not to wear. Places to go or to avoid. Friends to mingle with and how to behave, especially in the Church.
The home was ruled with an iron fist by none else but Mrs. Johnson. Her husband was a gentle man who wouldn’t hurt a fly. He hardly spoke and when he did, you had to strain your ears to hear him. The children grew up thinking he was scared of their Mum.
They lived in perpetual fear of her koboko, deafening slaps and pinches that could make tears come to their eyes with tremendous acceleration. Mrs. Johnson was a mother that other mothers would beg to spank their toddlers and talk sense to their teenagers and young adults. She was a powerful force in the Church and carried power tightly. She commanded a great influence, almost to the point of becoming a goddess to be feared and revered.
She was dark, short and thickset, with a face that gave no room for explanations. A first time encounter with her would remind you of a gun that is always ready for action.
The children never knew she had a soft side, until the day an incident happened. Thinking adults were infallible, immune to fear and could withstand whatever came their way, they were erroneously right until an experience shook them to the core of their being. It erased their young brains of the wrong assumptions.
Mr. Johnson had travelled on a business trip, leaving the four children to the mercy of their mother. They did their best to maintain, so as not to be punished. While going for women fellowship, Mrs. Johnson instructed them to cook and clean the house. This they did to the best of their abilities.
They were packed on the settee, waiting for the arrival of Margaret Thatcher (that was what they called her behind her back), when the door opened in unceremoniously. Offence number one; they forgot to lock the door from inside. Kike pitied where the cane would land on her body. Tears was already welling in her always sorrowful eye. She was the most fearful of the lot, being the only girl.
Surprisingly, their Mum was not bothered with the door she met ajar. Rather, she kept shaking like a chicken that fell into a basin of ice-cold water. Collapsing heavily into the settee, the voice that emanated from her did not sound like her voice. “Deacon Daniel is dead,” she said.
Jeeeeeesuuuu! The news hit the children like thunderbolt.
The Deacon Daniel they knew was a nice and God fearing man. He was at their house the day before, to pray against sudden death. Kike could still visualize him seated on the settee close to the TV set, his aging face surrounded by white spiky beards, his voice coming out gently in monotonous syllables.
Kike’s hair stood on end, and she instantly developed goose bumps. The thought in her 10-year-old mind was same with that of her other siblings. If death could enter Deacon Daniel’s house and snatch him suddenly, what would be their lot?
Kike remembered the meat she stole from the pot of soup a day earlier. She remembered when Benjy lied to their Mum to evade beating. The children sat like chicks without the mother hen. They would have fared well under the wings of their Mum, but she was too cold for comfort.
When it was time to sleep, they rushed into the boys’ room. Their thinking was that, the last person would be dragged back by the late Deacon’s ghost. The boys had already promised to accommodate Kike for the night.
Their house was a three bedroom flat which was constructed in a way that one room stood opposite the other two, with their large and well-spaced sitting room sitting majestically in between- like the owner of the house. Now in the room, the children heard their Mum’s uncertain voice.
“Can you sleep alone?” she asked.
That was strange coming from her. She had never allowed any of them grow beyond a year in the parents’ room. Thinking it was a ploy to give them a goodnight round of beating, as any answer that emanate from them could incite her, they answered carefully, “Yes ma! Thanks for asking.”
But she wasn’t done and asked again, “Are you sure you can sleep alone?”
Dutifully, they answered her, “Yes Mummy, thanks for asking.”
Suddenly, it dawned on them that their Mum was also scared. Their militant mother was scared of Deacon Daniel’s ghost. It sounded like Sunny Ade’s music to their young ears. Like getting a long awaited Christmas gift. Mummy is scared! Mummy is scared! They danced to a silent song.
Maybe it was the devil that had been waiting all along to punish them that put a plan in their heads. They executed it without thinking of what the consequence would be.
Standing by the window to their parents’ room, Lekan- the eldest, repeatedly made funny sounds, with the intention to scare Mrs. Johnson.
Was she scared? She picked her Bible and started pleading the blood of Jesus. It was a funny sight, and the children enjoyed every bit of the drama.
They went a step further by making Goke wrap himself in white, to stand at the entrance of their parents’ unlocked room. The prank was made easier because there was power outage.
On sighting the supposed ghost, Mrs. Johnson dropped her Bible, sank to the floor and tried entering under the bed shouting, “Deacon Daniel, emi koni mopa e. I wasn’t the one that killed you.”
It was the uncontrollable laughter from the children that made her realize her folly, and they got the beating of their lives that night.
To be continued
