The rains. It wouldn't stop-even if it's sunday. You know that it's going to be difficult for a converted rainmaker's son to understand-"why can't I stop the rain with the craft of my fathers and still head to church without a prick of irony". The ingredients that language the rains to cease still lie bare in his spirit and the pastor has ordered a deliverance.
Yes an ordered a deliverance-yes, like ordering fries from Tantalisers or gadgets from DealDey and losing quality money. I look around the rain is tremendously heavy like the tears of Mary, heavy with eternal loss of mankind. The neighbour next door is frowning, I had sensed a "get-together" of old school classmates with the aroma of sensitive oils tortured by the heat of frying adogan pots. Now, I'm wondering how the party will go.
I have to go to church, the pastor has a way of making us feel like we need help. There is Prayers for Workers on Monday, Digging Deep on Tuesday, Fighting for your Right; one cowardly way of praying or is it getting back at Nigeria on Wednesday, Pray Till Your Enemies Die on Thursday, Praise Galore on Friday; it's fixed exactly at the time one needs to go unwind at a club with friends, there is God Set Me Free on Saturday; clashing with Saturday Night Live on Tv and there's Sunday with tithes, offerings and exhausted voices and loudspeakers. And there' s Facebook jostling with God.
My neighbour, Evangelist Pam lives next flat with his wife. His two kids are in the United Kingdom, a cosy top-notch college and he's a full time pastor. His wife, "Mummy Pam" is an accountant at a business investment bank. Evangelist Pam and I have come a long way. I was a juniour colleague in secondary school. When he built the flats, I had just come to Lagos in search of a job and he accomodated me for a while. Evangelist Pam hasn't changed much. He still retained the chubby cheeks of our school days, an oblong head with sharp edges too, but he had hidden that with the punk that he carries. He also cuts his beard so much that you can see some scars of the sharp blade when you concentrate on his chin. After a while, I moved into the other flat when he met with sister linda; now Mummy Pam. It was unbearable for Brother Pam then, living with him. Sometimes, I caught sister Pam sitting on bro Pam's hard dick and kissing him.
The other flat was uncompleted by then. When I got my job with Google Nigeria, bro Pam approached me with his finances and told me he planned on marrying Linda. "show boy, Abeg you go fit loan me money make I use am complete this flat whey you dey live sef". I knew he didnt want me to start paying rent since he had goten so much accolades from it in church. So I gathered money together and ask him to sell the other flat for me. we bargained on an irresistible deal, a deal I took a loan for.
Not long he became a pastor and the noise from his house became unbearable. A very loud prayer session that says " Can you hear me everyone, I am praying-Isn't it amazing!". I couldn't say a word, but I got more furious when the brothers and sisters came to visit after the session.
" Brother Shobayo, we didn't see you at Pastor Pam's place today?"
I usually didn't have an answer for them. I could preempt. If I said that I was busy I would have given the brethren permission to make me an object of specific sermons. If I told the truth, which was that Pam had offended me greatly about the utility bill issues always cropping up.
" hey show"
" Mr Pam, we got the Nepa bill-it's 5000 Naira'
"He laughed, "that's ridiculous. but with your plasma TV, computer and generator all the time, you bet, you gulped the larger share of power use in this house" Pam will say, forcefully grinning.
I laughed a laughter unearthed without the spice of happiness and say
" but you know that you have Plasma, TV and generator too-we go share am equal"
He would say "Show, Show, Google People, nah you go pay everything and will walk away".
It had happened too repeatedly to forgive. It had not changed sequential patterns one bit. I was so angry, I decided to change my church. Linda started to look at me like a Judas Iscariot who swindled her husband from an uncompleted flat. I had to complete it after I bought it and then there was no qualms.
So I began worshipping at Transformation of the Resurrection Church of the Holy Ghost. I intended a part time. One day, I came for a mid service-can't remember which one and I was invited to join the workforce. They needed someone to help manage content on their web but I didn' t like the idea.
Feel free to criticize or express your expectations.
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