The Club Of God-Fearing Men- 8

Even though he knew he was fake-giving-his-life-to-Christ, Genesis waited for that feeling; the elation that was supposed to come after reciting those words in front of the congregation.
‘…I believe in my heart and confess with my mouth…’ the words sounded ordinary in his mouth, like sawdust. Tasteless, devoid of drama. There was no rushing wind and certainly no tongues of fire like the days of the apostles.
Apart from him there were about five other people taking the same step and as soon as they finished the prayer, the ushers led them to the back of the church while the rest of the congregation clapped like they had just won the lottery. Well; to some, salvation would be considered winning the lottery.
Genesis grimaced inwardly. The things he had to do to make life more interesting, sheesh.
The back room they took them to was air-conditioned with white plastic chairs arranged vertically.
‘Welcome to the body of Christ,’ the lanky man with his well-ironed trouser said, cracking a small smile.
Genesis was more interested in his partner; a pretty lady in a grey skirt and a winning smile.
‘The Bible says there is rejoicing in heaven when one sinner comes to Christ…so believe me, there’s a party going on in heaven now, for your sakes.’ The man continued. ‘My name is Olatunji and I am in charge of the follow-up team. Since you have taken this decision, we know you would need some pointers and you would have questions on what to do next. We wouldn’t want to leave you clueless… so beginning today you would each be assigned personal follow-up mentors. Their duty is to look after your spiritual welfare for a period of twelve weeks after which we can be sure that to an extent you’re ready to stand on your own. During these eight weeks, they would tutor you in the necessary basics of Christianity and salvation. Their job is to keep you saved with the help of the Holy Spirit. They are also on ground to answer whatever questions you have and make you as comfortable as possible in the body of Christ. See them as your personal mentors and the next twelve weeks is like a crash course in Christianity, they would observe your spiritual welfare and make recommendations if necessary. Your follow-up mentor should be your second best friend starting from today.’
Olatunji spoke in a mechanical monologue that made Genesis wonder how many times he’d made that speech.
‘So we’d be passing a form around, we need you to fill that form and then we can proceed with the pairings.’ It was Ms. Pretty who spoke now.
‘The reason for this is that we want you to take the decision you took today serious. This might be too much for you to take in now, you might feel ambushed…’
Damn right I do, Genesis wanted to say as he stared at the form given to him.
‘But really the idea here is to make you realise that this is the best decision you’d ever make in your entire life. The next three months would be to open your eyes to the wonders and beauty of Christianity,’ Ms. Pretty continued.
‘Your mentor would be your prayer partner, teacher, study partner. Basically the grace upon their lives should rub off on you. As much as it is inn their power, they’re to help you grow this period. According to Apostle Paul in First Peter 2:2 as new born babes desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby.’ Olatunji said.
Genesis sighed. These people sounded so damn organised it scared him. He didn’t need any mentor shadowing his every move for three frigging months! He hoped he hadn’t got more than he bargained for. He had to find a way out of this mess.
‘Please if you have any questions, feel free to ask.’ Ms Pretty said.
There were no questions except for Genesis unspoken question; how do I get the heck outta here?
‘Good. So I assume we understand each other. Thank you so very much for taking this step. We are so happy to have you with us. Now, to the pairings.’
Genesis had already made up his mind to not continue with the mentorship crap. He didn’t need no mentoring, he didn’t even need Jesus.
‘Please, brother Genesis indicate by waving your hand,’ Olatunji called.
The ‘brother’ before his name made Genesis want to puke. He waved his right hand, bored.
‘Ah, there you are. Sister Lola, that’s your convert. You know what to do.’
Genesis glanced around, wondering who Sister Lola was.
When he saw her, he knew he had certainly hit jackpot this time around.

*****
Lola Ajibade turned out to be a delightful pixie of a woman. Her Anita Baker haircut made her hot in a celebrity kind of way and to add to that, she had hips to die for, complemented by her rotund ass.
Three minutes into their conversation, she told Genesis to drop the ‘sister’ tag and simply call her name.
‘I hope by the time this mentorship is over, you’d find every reason to remain in the body of Christ,’ she said, shaking his hand.
Her palm was soft and tiny in his.
‘I sure will,’ he said, giving her a once-over.
He was thinking how small she was, how small she would be beneath him. He noticed her lips as she spoke, mainly because she bit them unconsciously. They were the pouty kind, like they craved a thorough massage by a fellow lip.
Her breasts were not impressive in size, barely jutting out beneath her plaid shirt, but he surmised that her ass more than made up for it. You could never have it all, he had come to find out.
Women came in packages and no package is the perfect ten.
‘So, where do we start?’ she had bright buttony eyes. ‘Um… introductions. I’m Lola Ajibade and I am Yoruba from Osun state. I’ve been with Grace Assembly for four years and it’s been amazing.’
‘Well, I’m Genesis Uba and er…I am an engineer.’
She gave a small laugh, ‘that’s all you have to share? Or you want to take it one step at a time?’
‘One step at a time, please.’
‘Oh…cool. Well, we have three months to get to know each other so no hurry.’ She rubbed her palms together. ‘We have to come up with a schedule. I’m supposed to be meeting with you thrice a week, to have our lessons. I am a journalist so my time is a bit flexible…what days of the week would be convenient for you?’
‘Lessons?’
‘Yes. We call it Salvation Classes, only this time you have a personal teacher in me,’ she tapped him playfully. ‘Don’t look so sad. I promise I’m not that bad.’
He couldn’t help laughing. If only she knew he was thinking in double entendres.
‘Erm…let’s see. How long would these classes take every time we meet?’ he asked, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
‘An hour thirty minutes max. We understand that you have other things to do.’
‘I like that you are very understanding.’
She eyed him, ‘why do I feel like you’re making fun of…me?’
‘Ah, make fun of my second best friend? Far be it from me, sister.’ But there was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.
‘Okay, drop the sister thing before I start calling you brother Genesis. Ehen, what kind of name is that sef? No offense oh.’
‘I was wondering when you’d ask,’ he smiled. ‘Let’s just say my mum was a big fan of the first books of the testaments.’
‘Seriously? I should meet her, I love her already!’
Genesis laughed again. Service had ended and they were standing outside the church premises, talking.
‘Well, now you know.’
‘Okay, let’s conclude on our classes. What time would suit you, Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays?’
In his mind’s eye, Genesis saw his weekends over the next three months being given a grand funeral. Salvation classes from Friday through Sunday? Kill me already!
Well, he would have to make some sacrifices if he wanted to complete his spiri-koko quest. Maybe he could give her a few salvation classes herself. Now that didn’t sound so bad.
‘That’s fine. We’d work around it,’ he replied eventually.
‘Venue?’
‘Eh?’
‘Like, where would suit you best? We could use the church premises or a library or somewhere we can just sit and study.’
‘Or my house,’ he said, his face set to not give away the sinful thoughts in his heart.

To Be Continued…

Mimi A.

The Club Of God- Fearing Men – 7

That Sunday, Genesis went back to Grace Assembly. After his chance meeting with Abbey on Friday, he was sure she wasn’t the right prey. He didn’t need someone who knew how to manipulate a conversation, who made him feel like he wasn’t in charge. Her promise of a date cum appointment was the last straw. He went home that night thinking about her and wondering what her messed up story was; how had she come to sing in a club, to be so familiar with the setting?
His friends had badgered him with questions that he didn’t want to answer when he returned to their table that night.
Who was she? Had they met before?
Tango was bitter that she had created a subdued atmosphere in the club for the rest of the evening. The few people who talked loudly and ordered several rounds of drinks were those who had missed her performance.
Tango went as far as to scold the club manager for letting her sing that song.
‘Whitney must have sung it when she was high on something and was seeing angels,’ he joked.
The club manager had in turn told him that some of their guests had requested her return. Genesis was silent as activity swirled around him.
The prospect of seeing her again was tempting, he had to admit. There was something about her he found fascinating. Maybe it was those eyes of hers that told a story of their own, with pain lurking in its depth.
He wanted to know her, wanted to know what made her tick, wanted to touch her beneath her long-sleeved, turtle-necked shirts.
Most of all, he wanted to break her. She gave the impression that she had everything put together, that she was a strong woman. He wanted to peel away that façade and see what was behind the mask. Surely, it was a mask.
When he got home that night, he drifted into a dreamless sleep after making up his mind to not call her.
She was used goods; someone else’ wife. It didn’t matter that her husband was dead. Heck, she still wore her wedding band!
On Sunday he found himself in Grace Assembly to continue his search.
However as the service progressed, he found himself glancing behind occasionally. At first he didn’t know why he kept doing it until he figured it out. He was looking to see if Abbey would walk in the door and march to her seat like the previous Sunday.
She didn’t.
He wasn’t disappointed, he told himself as the Pastor mounted the altar for his sermon. The lady seating in front of him looked like a good enough prospect, at least from the back. He would make his move today, somehow. He had wasted enough time.
‘Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy-laden and I would give you rest,’ the Pastor quoted. He was wearing a navy-blue suit and a sky-blue shirt that matched his polka-dotted tie.
Genesis liked his dress sense. He could bet it was the wife who had put it together, or some eager devotee had sowed it into the Pastor’s life.
‘Brethren, we need to be in Christ’s rest. That’s the only place we can be assured of peace and safety. The enemy is constantly at work to prove that you made the wrong decision the moment you accepted Christ. The Bible says he is like a roaring lion, looking for whom to devour. Would you be his net prey? Would you let him succeed at tearing you down? Paul makes it clear that we should not be ignorant of the devices of the enemy!’
Genesis winced, uncomfortable. Why did he feel like this man was talking to him, about him?
Paranoia, that’s what it was. No one else knew his mission here.
And he didn’t believe in the Holy Spirit doing amebo. Maybe back in the days of Ananias and Saphirra. But even then, he could swear that something in Ananias demeanor had given him away to Peter.
He settled in his seat, consciously drifting away. He didn’t need a sermon that made him feel like the devil.
Well, he had to admit the Pastor had small swag. Not too much, no permed hair or some large bling-bling hanging around his neck.
Genesis didn’t know why those things put him off. To him it was like Pastors who did such were trying too hard to throw off attention from what they had on the inside and draw more attention to how they looked on the outside.
The logic was probably this; if they could keep the audience focused on the myriad of distractions on the outside, then they wouldn’t probe too deep to know how much of the content was inside.
They would jump; do their theatrics to elicit enough noise from the congregation. They fed on the chants of ride on pastor and tell us, tell us. The people would eventually leave church exhausted on the outside and empty on the inside. God knows, he had seen enough of that.
He remembered a time he had come home for holidays from the university. He was eighteen then and already forming an opinion on his mother’s religion. She had however forced him to attend a program with her.
The guest speaker had turned out to be one of the motivational speakers that Genesis had already become familiar with.
‘Drop everything you have at the feet of the Master and see if He would not answer!’ the speaker said as he rounded up his sermon.
Which Master exactly? Genesis wanted to ask, but he had kept mum while his mother emptied the contents of her purse on the altar.
‘Remember the widow’s mite? Remember the widow, children of God, remember the widow!’ the speaker kept singing while tapping the side of his leg with his hand.
When the service was over that night, Mum had no transport to go home.
‘Geegee, abeg you get money for there? Don’t worry, when this seed manifests, I will do you well eh?’
‘Which seed, Mummy? Don’t yu know a scam when you see one? What if I wasn’t here and I didn’t have money, shebi you’ll trek home?’
She hadn’t answered then, when she did, it was to scold him.
‘Shebi it’s because you have gone to school you think you can now outthink God? Biko, let’s go home and don’t tell me nonsense. Don’t use your mouth to destroy my seed, eh?’
Genesis chuckled to himself as he remembered that incident. He had certainly seen it all, he thought.
‘Are you okay brother?’ someone asked.
He looked over at the questioner; his seatmate, a lady in a bright pink dress, was looking sternly at him.
‘Why?’ he responded.
Before she could respond, an usher strolled by, glaring pointedly at them.
Genesis sighed and returned his attention to the sermon. All these oversabis sha. Mtchew.
‘All heads bowed, all eyes closed. If you know that deep inside you, you feel an emptiness, a need to enter into Christ’s rest; just obey God’s voice and answer the call. Just step forward, don’t be ashamed. The bible says if you’re ashamed of me here on earth, I would be ashamed of you on that day. Come forward and we would pray with you. Step into his rest.’
Genesis thought the Pastor was being too desperate about his altar call. C’mon he didn’t have to say all those words in one breath na.
And why did altar calls have to sound so clichéd? Why say the ashamed thingy or the heads bowed, eyes closed?
Whoever wanted to obey the call would do so regardless of the eyes staring at him/her.
‘Don’t waste any more time. This is an opportunity of a life time…’ the Pastor continued, ‘thank you sister….ah, thank you brother…’
Genesis waited, bidding his time. He had positioned his head in a way that he could see a cross section of the congregation, especially those who were answering the call.
And then, just as the Pastor was about to close the gates of heaven, Genesis stood.
And began to make his way to the front.
The hunt had just begun.

To Be Continued…

Mimi .A.

My Spring

Hey dear readers, you know how I love to keep y’all entertained, so I’m trying out this new idea to see if it works. The story is written by Dike Nsoedo, a friend and an excellent writer whom I’ve featured here before. His works have appeared on Naijastories, The Nukan Niche and The Naked Convos, to name a few. To read his story,please click on the image above and return to give your feedback here. Trust me, you’d enjoy it.

Thank you all!

The Club Of God- Fearing Men – 6

He did not want to believe he was imagining her, or that his subconscious had conjured up her presence.

“Guy!” someone nudged him again.

He snapped out of his semi-trance and looked back at his friends; his first instinct was to tell them who she was, but then again, what use was it? How would he tell his boys that the first woman that had caught his eye in the church was a mother of two? They would laugh him out of the room.

He had always been known for his ability to cut a clean deal with the women he dabbled with. Tango was the one who usually had a lot of woman drama because he couldn’t seem to keep his pants zipped. There was always one lady out to get back at him for something he had done. He could be likened to Barney Stinson from the popular sitcom How I Met Your Mother.

“Ermm…I…never see any correct babe yet.” He stuttered, dragging his eyes from Abbey who was now entering the club fully with the dude in earrings.

“Why you dey dull now? You don start to dey chuk eye to find Miss World for inside church abi?” Sly asked.

The type of women he frolicked about with were not necessarily the Miss Worlds’ of their generation, his friends knew he could be picky when it came to women even if it was going to be a fling.

As much as he admired women with big hips, balloon sized boobs and a pretty face; he was easily turned on by a woman who could stimulate him intellectually.

If after sleeping with a woman, all she could talk about was how ‘big’ he was, how ‘good’ he was, how ‘sexy’ he was, Genesis knew he wouldn’t last long with her.

Once, there was a woman he had an affair with for ten months, which was a huge deal for Genesis. He had met Ifeyinwa at a business conference organized for engineers, dominated by men. Ifeyinwa had been one of the two women at the one week conference, the other woman was married.

She wasn’t beautiful in the conventional way; her curves were minimal, her boobs were not much bigger than the size of an average mango. In fact he often teased her that her brains were bigger than her boobs.

So it wasn’t beauty that attracted him to Ify; it was the question she asked during one of the seminars at the conference. A question that had even the facilitator at the seminar, reeling in confusion.

His eventual answer had been, “let me get back to you on that, Miss.”

That singular act snagged Genesis attention. He knew he just had to meet her, he had to talk to her, he had to or he would die of not-knowing.

Their first conversation literally blew him away, if he had thought he was smart before, Ify reduced him to mint-sized intelligence.

When she spoke about immiscible liquids and azeotropes, stuff they had learned in chemical engineering, Genesis felt the undisputable urge to kiss her.

When they finally had sex, for him, it was like she was a goddess and sleeping with her was an act of worship.

Ten months! And even when it ended it was because she had to travel out of the country. He didn’t know the plans he had for Ify then, but she had kept him active mentally and sexually longer than any other woman had in a long time.

His guys had teased him about her for months even after she left. They wondered if she had jazzed him because according to them, there were no assets to make her worth keeping around for nearly a year.

If only they knew.

He could dare to say that he had possibly come to the closest thing there was to love with Ify. If love could be classified as great sex and great brains, then hell yeah; he had been so much in love with Ify.

Personally, he felt love was overrated. He wasn’t a cynic, wasn’t one of those people who believed that love was a farce or a mirage. Nope, he believed that love existed. The kind there was between mother and child. The kind that gave without expecting something in return, just like the kind of love he had for his mother.

He knew there was nothing he couldn’t do for that woman, he didn’t know how or why but she was the closest thing to an idol he had. It was because of the intensity of the love he felt for his mother that he believed that no other woman could beat it.

He had tried loving someone else once, had even come close to marrying her, only to discover that she had been using him to get into her father’s Will.

The incident had stabbed Genesis’ confidence somewhat, that he could be a tool someone used, while he gave almost everything; his time, his heart, his little money, Lola had proven to him that no matter how much you give in ‘love’, it would never be enough.

He sighed as he thought of Lola, his first and possibly, only love. Lola, the manipulator. Whenever he looked back at what he had done for her all in the name of love, Genesis pinched himself. He hadn’t been in love, he had been stupid.

“…ladies and gentlemen, as is our tradition fortnightly, we have with us AB Plus who’s gonna light this place up with her feisty voice,” the voice cut through Genesis reverie, jerking his attention to the present. It was the ear ringed man; he was on the stage, his arm around Abbey’s shoulder.

AB Plus?

Now this was going to be interesting.

“AB Plus and I go way back. She’s got the voice of a nightingale, let’s show her some love!” there was a slight ripple of applause from the crowd as ear ringed man stepped down and Abbey took the mic.

“Hi everyone. I’d be doing a song I love so much by Whitney.” her voice settled on the audience like warm chocolate.

Genesis realized it was one of the things he found fascinating about her; her voice had an effect he couldn’t quite explain.

“Di babe fine oh,” Tango whispered, hoarse.

Genesis ignored him, his attention on Abbey. She closed her eyes, tilted her neck slightly, opened her mouth and began to sing.

“As I lay me down

Heaven hear me now,

I’m lost without a cause

After giving it my all…”

There was an eerie silence as she rounded off the song.

“I look to you,

I look to you

After all my strength is gone,

In you I can be strong,

I look to you…”

It was like something from another world had passed among them. Men who were usually rambunctious, who would whistle in derision more often than not after a soulful rendition like that; sat still, like boys awed by the sight of Santa.

Genesis felt it too. His eyes couldn’t leave her face.

She opened her eyes, looking around, she said with a poignant smile:

“Jesus still loves you.”

In that moment, Genesis could have sworn she was talking to him.

“Thank you for listening,” she said and then stepped down from the stage.

The club erupted in applause as she walked away; out of the corner of his eye, he saw men reaching out to shake her hand as she walked by them.

It was an odd sight. Handshakes at a club?

“What just happened?” Genesis heard Chris whisper.

“I dey come,” with that he stood abruptly and followed after Abbey.

He didn’t know what he was doing, in fact her seeing him here would surely blow his ‘Christian brother’ cover but what the heck, he knew he just had to talk to her.

“Hey, Abbey!” he called, hurrying after her.

She stopped and looked over her shoulders. Her face was flushed and beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

He caught up with her.

“Yes?”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry, your name again?” she frowned.

“Ah and I thought my name was memorable,” he feigned hurt, placing a hand on his chest.

She gave a small laugh, shaking her head. “Truth is I can’t even remember where I met you.”

Genesis was calculating whether that was a good thing or not.

“Never mind. Buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, I don’t drink.”

“Oh come on, Chapman? It’s the least you deserve after such a rendition.”

“Who are you again?” she was facing him fully now, and even though the lights in the club was dim, he could see her face. And it was remarkable.

“Let me buy you a drink and I’d tell you,” he didn’t know why but he needed to talk to her. After a beat he added “please.”

She sighed. “One drink. I have…chores to do at home.”

Children, his brain corrected.

“Thank you. I won’t keep you long, I promise.” He slipped on his most charming smile.

“How about we just hang around here. Going further into the club is…well…I don’t need it.” She suggested, sliding into the nearest empty seat.

“Okay I’ll go get your drink,” he lingered a moment to look at her again, perhaps afraid that by the time he got back she’d be gone.

When he got back, she was still there but someone else was sitting with her. A burly man sat in the seat beside her, leaning forward as though listening raptly to what she was saying.

She looked up at Genesis, gave him a small smile and the finger sign for one minute.

Genesis was irked but he didn’t let it show. What was the man doing? And on time he had begged from her!

He set the drink quietly before her and took a seat, inclining his ear towards their discussion.

“He died because he loved us, not because we were good enough. So no matter how condemned you feel, God doesn’t condemn you. Only the devil does that. So Mr. Bamidele, it takes absolutely nothing to find your way back to God again. Trust me.”

Genesis shifted in his seat. What in deuces was this sorta of conversation?

“Listen, I can recommend a good church for you. I can give you my card to call if you have any questions about Christ or salvation. But…only that, Mr. Bamidele.”

Genesis listened to the man thank her profusely and stumble back into the club with his bulk.

“Sorry to keep you waiting…I just…kingdom business.” She placed her hand on the table, angling towards her drink.

“It’s okay,” he noticed her eyes were a dark hazel color. “So, what’s the story here? Why are you in a club singing Whitney Houston and preaching Jesus? It’s ironic.”

“It’s a long story and I really can’t get into it now, especially not with a familiar stranger.” She took a sip from her drink.

“My name is Genesis.”

“Aha! Now I remember! Wait…Grace Assembly?”

He inclined his head to show she was right.

“Wow. Wow. Coincidence, then?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Well, isn’t there something in the Bible about the Lord ordering the steps of the righteous?”

She laughed again, “nice one, Genesis.”

“So I am no stranger anymore and I am interested in that story. Can I buy five more minutes of your time?”

“Hmmm.” She glanced at her wrist. “I’m afraid not. We’d have to reschedule.”

“Uh…a date?”

“No, a story-telling appointment. I don’t do dates, Genesis.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll call you?”

“You have my card, yeah?”

He couldn’t tell her he had dropped it somewhere he couldn’t remember, so he lied.

She downed her drink and stood, “thanks for the drink, Genesis. I have to go now, though.”

“Wonderful singing again, I must say.” Although he thought wonderful was a light way of describing her rendition.

“Thank you,” with a slight bow, she disappeared into the night; leaving Genesis staring at the space where she sat only a moment ago.

To Be Continued…

Mimi A.

The Club Of God- Fearing Men- 5

Genesis week was usually busy; living in Lagos had taught him to be quick on his feet. He left home most mornings before 6 am so he could make it to his office on or before 8 am and even though he usually closed work by 5pm, he didn’t usually get home till sometime around 7pm depending on what day of the week it was.

So it was little wonder that during the week he had little or no time to socialize, well, apart from flirting with the ladies that worked with him, people whom he tired of seeing their work-hardened faces every day, he had no other means to sate his natural affinity to women.

Which was why he looked forward to weekends; Fridays were usually eventful for him. He and the boys hung out at any club they chose; drinking, talking, laughing and he usually left the club with a woman on his arm and if she was lucky, in his bed.

Some of them made it to his arm, but ended up in the restroom stall or the back of his car, depending on how drunk she was. He was a man who liked to be in control; as much as he liked the women, picking up women when drunk wasn’t his thing.

In fact, getting drunk or stoned wasn’t his thing, generally. That was more Tango’s thing. He wondered how his friend still kept his body fit for the modeling jobs he did.

This Friday, they had agreed to try out a club/bar/whatchamacallit. Among the quartet; only he and Chris had cars of their own. Tango didn’t like driving, he said he preferred the adrenaline rush that came from jumping into Danfo buses and he was more likely to meet women in transit than from the comfort of a private car. They would think he was a serial killer or something if he tried picking them up; yes, his body could be bad news like that.

Genesis often wondered if Tango’s mum had birthed him through the right part of her body, because the things he said and did were like he was from another planet.

Sly, on the other hand, was saving up to buy a land which according to him, was on the top of his priority list.

Apparently, he had a phobia for living in rented houses because of what he and his family had suffered when he was still little. His one obsession was to become a landlord soon.

“Being a landlord can mean just owning your land. That’s the first step. If I have my own land now, I can open canopy there and be sleeping under and nobody will disturb me. That option is still better than living in some ugly, hungry pot-bellied man’s house.”

They arrived at the bar in twos, Genesis picked up Sly from Maryland on his way from work and Chris picked Tango up from his latest modeling company. They had agreed to do a small briefing on Operation Nail a Spirikoko Woman that evening.

Genesis wasn’t much looking forward to it mostly because he hadn’t yet found the woman, he had tossed Abbey’s card inside one of his jacket pockets when he got home from church that Sunday.

He had made up his mind, she was no-go area. A widow and a single mum? C’mon, he wasn’t looking to start a charity organization here. He’d find someone else; he had after all seen some prospective women at that Grace Assembly church on Sunday. Abbey could go to hell, for all he cared.

They arrived at the club early. It was just 9pm and on a Friday night, the club was supposed to be vomiting human beings like a volcanic eruption.

Genesis loved it. The mesh of bodies grinding against each other on the dance floor, the opportunities to grope and cop a feel without being labeled a pervert. Heck, he’d had women grab his ass on the dance floor and pretend it was a mistake; baby, please make that mistake often, he always thought.

Tonight though, he took one look at the setup of the club and knew this was not a regular club.

He turned to Chris since he had been the one to suggest this place; “Guy wetin be dis na? Dem get live band for hia!”

“That’s the beauty, Gen.” Chris was a teacher in a secondary school and avoided speaking pidgin so much because he said it affected him while teaching at school. He knew an English teacher who had been fired because she slipped in pidgin while she taught her class. “No be every time pesin go listen to pirated music. Trust me, their bar here na wa.”

Genesis sighed. Of all his friends, Chris was the softest and most loveable. He had a big heart that Genesis often envied. While the rest of them ran after women just for the heck of it, Chris actually cared. Women are to be treated like treasure chests, he often said in a melancholic tone.

It was no surprise, he had five sisters. He was probably hoping that if he treated the girls he met nicely, some other dude would do the same for his sisters.

“Una dey dull pesin. Abeg I need a drink,” with that Tango pushed past them and headed towards the bar.

“If we needed live band eh, Chris, we for go church. Dem plenty for dia.” Sly punched him playfully and followed behind Tango.

“Drink?” Chris asked Genesis as they scouted around for seats.

“Vodka and juice. Make I go find table,” both men parted ways.

Genesis particularly liked the twirling multi-coloured lights. He also liked the fact that the club had an outdoor setting. The platform for the live band was sheltered in a small brown alcove with dazzling lights. The dance floor was a few paces away from the platform.

He patted his pocket as he settled into a table with four chairs. Friday nights were usually so crazy that if you were too drunk or too careless, they’d pick everything off you; your phone, wallet, ATM cards, every damn thing.

His first attempt at clubbing had been like that, he had gone with an older friend who had promised to pay for everything. The friend’s pocket had been picked while two girls draped themselves over him, with boobs ogling at him. Genesis remembered sneaking out of the club when he realized what had happened.

“Oya, hafar?” his friends had returned, each nursing a drink. Chris handed a glass to him and Genesis downed it, grateful for the chill as it travelled down his throat.

“Any luck?” Sly continued. “I don see church, see babe join sef.”

Genesis listened with rapt attention as Sly recounted his escapades. Genesis could tell that Sly’s church tilted more towards RCR because the girl that had caught Sly’s attention didn’t wear trousers and had her hair bundled under a heavy scarf.

“Her legs na die! Jesus! As we dey talk, I just dey imagine say I dey use tongue dey romance di leg.”

As he said that, a quick picture of Abbey flashed into Genesis’ mind’s eye and he sighed, involuntarily.

“So, wetin be di plan?” Tango asked.

“I dey go di church next Sunday na. From dia we go see.”

Chris was next. He was still going after the girl that had caught his attention before. For him, it was no game. Yes, he wanted to conquer but there was something more.

“There’s something about her that just…I no even know sef.” He shook his head, bewildered.

Tango was apparently finding it difficult to blend into a church. Churches irritated him, he said. Coupled with the fact that his body was quite er…obvious, girls gravitated towards him more often than not.

“How I wan take find spirikoko babe when all of dem dey hustle for me?” he lamented. “Even in church!”

“Look for di one wey no dey hustle you. Na she be real spirikoko,” Sly advised.

“What if dem no dey? What if…they all want some of this?” he puffed his chest out in a comical way.

His friends laughed.

“One go dey wey no want. And even if she want, she no go dey follow you like monkey.” Genesis said.

“Oya, talk ya own. You don find church abi babe?” Tango asked.

Genesis paused. He had found the church, right? The babe nko?

As he opened his mouth to tell them no, he hadn’t found the woman yet, he spotted her.

She had just entered and stood in the walkway, beside a man who had earrings on. She looked a little different from when he saw her on Sunday, she was clad in jeans and t-shirt and sneakers.

What the heck was she doing here?

“Guy, wetin you dey look?” Sly nudged him.

His mouth opened and closed again, the words didn’t come out.

Whoever had said he would forget about Abbey the singer so soon had been lying. She was here, in the flesh. At the club!

To Be Continued…

Mimi A.

The Club Of God- Fearing Men – 4

His belle turned out to be a visiting singer from some other church. Her name was Abbey.

He spent half the service fantasizing about her, the moment she mounted the auditorium, he let his mind wander.

So what did it matter that she was from another church? All it was going to take was for him to move base to whatever church she was attending. He thought singing made her sexy. Maybe she’d sing out a few lines for him when they were in his bed with her long legs wrapped around…

The moment she began to speak, not sing, Genesis knew that this one was one of God’s closest. He had heard many people preach and before long, he deciphered that they were wannabe motivational speakers. They ‘preached’ just to get the crowd excited, they lied to them that the moment they became Christians, the millions would roll in, say bye-bye to a life of troubles. Jesus will take all the troubles away.

And some desperados bought that lie hook line and sinker.

This woman spoke like she knew what she was talking about, not like she had read from some handbook and was only reciting what she had read. She spoke like one who had firsthand knowledge and experience of the God she served and that made her more appealing to Genesis.

“Sometimes we look at our lives as believers and we wonder why we are. So many questions; why, where, when, how, who. I remember a period I was going through dark times and I asked myself many questions. Why did God take interest in me? What was so special about me?” she paused for effect, then said; “and this song by Marvin Sapp came to me…He saw the best in me, when everyone else around could only see the worst in me.”

She didn’t sound corny. Or maybe he was just biased by her great shape or was it her voice?

“Listen to me good, people. God doesn’t care how messy your life is or how messed up you are, He’s provided a solution even before you knew it. He sees you through His eyes. All you need to do is accept the solution He provided and live your life free of guilt. Do you understand me?”

It was no surprise that she had the congregation spellbound, heck he was too.

When she began to sing, Genesis could have sworn he was transported to heaven, or somewhere close to it. He had come prepared for something but definitely not this. He had not prepared to actually enjoy himself. This was supposed to be a game; he was supposed to get in, find the woman and get out. He wasn’t supposed to mingle, wasn’t supposed to join these people in waving their hands like he actually cared, wasn’t supposed to move his body to the rhythm of her song.

And yet he was.

If not for the fact that the picture of her, naked except for thongs; was dancing across his mind, he would have sworn he had been converted by mistake. He imagined her singing in his ears, her tongue darting slowly across his earlobe.

It was with this picture plastered firmly in his mind that he approached her as soon as the service was over. Good thing his mother had built this insane confidence in him, he wasn’t afraid to approach a woman he found attractive especially if he thought he had a chance with her. It didn’t matter how many scriptures she spewed out, he had more than enough to match hers.

She was sitting in the black leather seat provided for her, somewhere in the Pastor’s corner; gulping water from a bottle.

“Hi,” she stopped as she saw him. Then she smiled, her eyes folded lightly in a cute way.

“Hello,” he put out his hand to sake hers. “I just wanted you to know that I was really blessed by your song today. It was so inspiring.”

He knew the right words to say to not sound carnal. People like this liked to hear how much their singing blessed you; it made them feel like they were doing God’s work for real.

“I’m glad, thank you. All glory to God.” She shook his hand, her grip was meaty.

“And I must say you have a lovely voice.”

Throw in a personal compliment that she’d have to acknowledge instead of shifting it to God.

She smiled again “Thank you. And what’s your name?”

“Genesis.” He paused, waiting for the why-did-your-parents-name-you-that reaction.

“Wow,” she looked at him then, her eyes taking in his features that she had possibly ignored before, probably wondering what was so spectacular about him to be named Genesis.

“I get that a lot,” he replied, bestowing her with a winning smile.

At that moment, two girls scurried up to them, ensconced in pony tails and frilly dresses.

“Mummy, see! Look what they gave us!”

Genesis eyes widened. What the blazes? Mu- what?

Both girls climbed into her laps, giggling and holding out their parcels. She laughed, pulling them to her.

“Girls, mummy would see it later, okay? Now, Mummy is talking. Oya greet this uncle.”

As the girls greeted him, Genesis thought how this resembled a story from a bad sitcom. How could this gorgeous no-excess fat woman, be a mother of not one but two girls? How could he not have foreseen that she was married? Or was she a single mother?

“Hello girls, are you twins?” it was a lame question. But all he could think of at the moment

“Everyone sees that,” girl 1 replied, with an attitude.

“Amber! Oya, go and wait for me with Auntie Joke, we’ll soon go home.” With that their mother urged them off her laps.

“Pretty,” his former enthusiasm had waned.

“With big mouths too. They just turned seven last month and it’s been like a whirlwind. So, Genesis, how long have you been attending Grace Assembly?”

He couldn’t concentrate on this discussion especially not while he was wondering if she was married or not.

If she was married, he would back out. As much as he liked games, Genesis respected the institution of marriage. He had watched his mother deal with his father’s infidelity for over a decade and it had torn at his heart.

“Why won’t you leave him, Mummy?” he asked, often.

“And then what? Marry again? Or be lonely for the rest of my life?”

“You deserve better.”

“I have better. Some women have husbands who beat them. Your father is a good man and he keeps me warm at night. He respects me; he doesn’t bring those women home.”

“And that’s enough for you?”

He couldn’t understand how a woman who had raised him to be fiercely confident could be this…this…meek and accepting.

“How’s your husband?” he blurted before he could stop himself. His eyes sought out her ring finger. Sure enough, it bore a gold band. How had he missed it? Had he been too taken with her looks to see what was so obvious?

A smile crept into her face and she said; “He’s with the Lord.”

Translation: he don kpai.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about this news.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” he stumbled on the words.

“Don’t be.” She glanced at her wrist and Genesis took the hint.

“I would love to talk more with you. Dinner, maybe? I know it’s unconventional and well…unexpected but I just think there’s a lot I can learn from you.” He was blabbing, he knew. But he couldn’t go ahead and say; ‘please I made a bet with friends, I think you’re hot and would like to take you to bed right this minute.’

She dug in her handbag and handed him a small card.

“You can reach me on any of those numbers. Nice meeting you Genesis.”

His eyes followed her bum discreetly as she walked away from him.

What now, Gen?

To Be Continued….

Mimi. A.

A Semi- Rant About Saro 2

So, this is the reason I have been sorta AWOL for a while. Trust me pals, it’s for a good cause.

Saro: The Musical launched in December 2014. It is a play that’s written by Mrs Bolanle Austen-Peters, that speaks a lot about the situation of most Nigerians.

The just concluded Saro, The Musical 2  ran from the 1st of April to the 6th of April at Shell Hall MUSON Centre. It definitely lit up the Easter celebration for those who were in Lagos.

So, day 1 kicked off with just one show by 3pm seeing as we were still recovering from the election brouhaha in Nigeria.

One thing I can confidently say is that the show is like sweet wine, that gets better with age. It is not something that gets old or wears out. It is not something you’d see once and conclude that that’s enough for you. The play is like a revelation, like a well-defined orgasm shocking you beyond your senses.

The experience of seeing the play is something I can’t capture properly right now because it’s one of those beautiful things that words cannot begin to describe. You know how some guys go ‘your beauty is too much for words’? Well, only now do I truly understand that phrase and thankfully I’m using it for something better than to toast a babe. Smiles.

Saro is too beautiful for words. You have to be there to catch the bug, experience the feeling of staying glued as the stage comes alive with music, dance, drama and talent of all kinds. It opened my eyes to the fact that there’s so much raw talent in Nigeria that needs just one opportunity and a little polishing to make it to the top.

The idea behind the plot is the typical Nigerian success stories of wannabes. Four village boys who migrate to Lagos, the city of dreams with the intention to’blow’, to become superstars.

Of course, they meet up with roadblocks on the way that make them  realize that the road to success is never laced with gold.

The most exciting part of the play, for me, is the way they writer/director brought together the ethnicity of Nigerians and laced them together, to prove that we are all woven from the same fabric. that no matter the language we speak or the dresses we wear, we all need each other.

There’s another show by December which I’m going to be sure to attend again. The Saro experience is one that once or twice is never enough.

One thing I discovered with this play/show is that Nigeria is rich. Not the riches of gold, silver or oil money, but the riches of talent beyond imagination. We have people with amazing things inside of them that just need a little tweaking to become something magnificent. There are too many things to do than just be stuck with being conventional. You don’t have to study medicine, law or engineering before you become a success. It is never what you study that makes you a success, it is what you have inside of you. When you let it out, you find that you will soar above those who have not yet discovered who they are.

My advice? Be you. You can only succeed as you, never act the script of someone else’s life, never tailor your life after another’s, you’d only end up living and dying unfulfilled.

That said, thank you so much for reading even though it isn’t a story.

FULL TEXT: Statement By President Goodluck Jonathan After Announcement Of Presidential Election Results

I said I’m in love with My President. This is reason enough. Dear Nigerians.

Su'eddie in Life n' Literature

STATEMENT BY PRESIDENT GOODLUCK EBELE JONATHAN AFTER THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE RESULTS OF PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION 2015

Fellow Nigerians,

President Goodluck Jonathan

I thank you all for turning out en-masse for the March 28 General Elections.

I promised the country free and fair elections. I have kept my word. I have also expanded the space for Nigerians to participate in the democratic process. That is one legacy I will like to see endure.

Although some people have expressed mixed feelings about the results announced by the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), I urge those who may feel aggrieved to follow due process based on our constitution and our electoral laws, in seeking redress.

As I have always affirmed, nobody’s ambition is worth the blood of any Nigerian. The unity, stability and progress of our dear country is more important than anything else.

I congratulate all Nigerians for successfully going through the…

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The Club Of God- Fearing Men- 3

Genesis was not exactly a connoisseur of churches but he had been to his fair share of them to know which was which. He had also grown up with a righteous, religious mother.

http://www.zazzle.com

He knew there were different kinds of churches. The body of Christ had long divided itself, he observed.

There was the come-as-you-are type of church, those ones were well populated with all kinds of people. They had the good, bad and ugly. They were the ones that cared about who wore what and who drove what kind of car to church. The pastor would usually be a thirty-ish man with sleek suits, a darn beautiful wife and permed hair. He would be the type who jumped up and down the pulpit and talked about how much God wanted you to be rich.

That was the kind of church he preferred generally. Whenever he chose to not spend Sundays at hoe, whenever he felt he needed a cleansing of some sort; he would find one come-as-you-are church and fix himself.

He had once dated a girl who attended one of those churches. Her name was Lois and she was crazy about marriage more than she was about him. He had been twenty four then, certainly not thinking about marriage, but of course she hadn’t known that. She dragged him to church one day and promptly introduced him to her pastor as her ‘missing rib’. Genesis had almost choked on suppressed laughter that day.

“Are you born again, young man?” the Pastor had asked.

“He goes to church, sir.” Lois had said before he could reply.

Again, Genesis hid a snicker. The pastor was asking the wrong person that question

‘Have you confessed Jesus with your mouth and believed Him in your heart?” the Pastor had asked, still solemn.

Yes, he wanted to say. Lois and I confessed together last night, in my bed. She confessed my name with her mouth and the orgasm I gave her almost made her heart explode. She literally got born again in my bed last night. So yes, that counts.

“Yes sir,” he said instead with a barely-straight face.

And that was it. The Pastor had given them their blessing. Genesis had walked out of the church that day, warning Lois never to ambush him that way and in fact, breaking up their relationship.

So yes, he had a lot of experience with CAYA churches.

The second type of church he had witnessed was the Republic Of Church Repellants. Those types could smell sin from afar. They would look at you with what he called the Eye of Judgment and write you off instantly by the way you look on the outside. They were the type that would out rightly quote the-soul-that-sinneth-shall-die.

These types he did not like because the men dressed like underfed herbalists with faded or jump-up trousers and sometimes had irreparable body odour. Their mouth odour was the type that came from too much fasting that it had become the permanent smell of their mouths. They believed going to heaven was something that required looking tattered on earth. He had met so many of them while he was in the University and they disgusted him with their overly loud praying habits, the many fires they set to their enemies and the way they pretended they did not masturbate in the privacy of their rooms.

The ladies on the other hand dressed like sadists, like they’d been told that wearing colorful dresses was a mortal sin. They dressed in pleated ash skirts that hid their buxom (if any) asses and turtleneck shirts without shapes. They dressed like they were mourning the Jesus who died instead of celebrating the one who lived.

http://www.religifake.com

His mother, he felt was a good example. He had never seen a woman so devoted to God and yet so fashionable. She had lived with their unbelieving father for many years and had managed to remain in the faith, as she often reminded Genesis and his brother. Truth be told he was looking for a woman like his mother. One who would be so dedicated to God and yet everything about her screamed romanticism. Someone that would be sexy but totally unaware of it. Someone who would look him in the face and throw his bullshit right back at him.

Not someone who faked spirikoko-ism, but someone who truly was.

That would be the true challenge.

So when he walked into the church he had decided on, for that Sunday, Genesis’ church sensors went up. The man who welcomed him at the door, smiling politely was dressed in a worthy outfit of jeans and a shirt.

Good, at least these ones didn’t consider wearing jeans a sin.

He smiled back at the brother and was passed on to the next usher; a lady this time, in smart jeans and a shirt too.

Apparently, it was jeans Sunday. He groaned within as he saw that most of the congregation was clad in jeans.

It must be a special program. He thought, taking his seat beside a lady whose head was bowed.

In the few seconds it took for him to survey his environment, he knew he had hit jackpot. This was it.

All he had to do was wait for the choir to come upstage or upaltar, or whatever they called it these days and he would know if the deal was sealed.

Time to settle into play acting. He closed his eyes and joined in the prayer frenzy with one eye open.

Just as he was getting restless that the prayer session was getting too long, he spotted her through the space in his hands.

She had just walked in, her right hand clutching her purse. She whispered something to an usher and continued walking; past him. On her head, was a baseball cap, matching her casual outfit to a tee.

He shifted his position to get a good look at her.

Darn, she was beautiful, he thought. Jackpot, baby.

His eyes followed her as she continued to the front. Her bum was obscured by the overlapping long shirt but he could tell from her hips that she had a fairly big bum.

But why she had to go all the way to the front, he had no idea. Was she one of those women that loved to sit up close to listen to the Pastor?

Oh well, he was about to find out.

To Be Continued…

Mimi .A.

The Club Of God-Fearing Men – 2

When he was six, Genesis had given his life to Christ before the congregation of children. It was his first attempt at that and he could faintly recall the childish excitement that had plowed through him as he stood among others, bowing his head and repeating those words after the children teacher.
He had taken the life back fifteen days later, or so he believed, when he had stolen a piece of meat from his father’s covered bowl of soup.
His father was not religious, it was his mother that took him and his brother to church every Sunday while his father sat at home, smoking cigars and reading the sports section of the papers.
He had once asked who named him Genesis and his mother had confessed that she had always wanted to name her children after significant books of the Bible. She had named him Genesis because he was the first; named his brother Matthew because he was the beginning of new things a.k.a new testament. She had admitted that if she had a girl, she’d have named her Ruth or Dorcas, the purple woman.
In a way, Genesis appreciated his name and the illusion it often created. People automatically assumed that he was a good person whenever he mentioned his name. After all, how could one answer a name as significant as Genesis and still be bad?
He had his first girlfriend when he was eleven; her name was Amarachi and she was two years older with breasts the size of agbalumo which he was awed by; her skin was the colour of one who barely escaped albinoism- yellowish red. She was the newest girl in class, older than most of them because her father was a contractor who moved around a lot, causing adverse effects on his family.
Genesis had known he was very good-looking early in life; his mother boasted about her sons every moment possible. She would stand them in front of the rectangular mirror in her room and tell them they were the most beautiful boys’ a mother could ever wish to have. She would proceed to point out the ‘beautiful’ parts of them. Their pointy nose, their nearly-pink lips, their straight legs, their full head of hair and their brains.
‘You are both very intelligent, do you know?’ she would say. ‘My children cannot be dummies. If anybody calls you dummy, tell them you are smart.’
By the time Genesis was eleven, he was a confident boy, comfortable in his skin. He knew what he was and nobody could take it away from him.
Till date, he mentally thanked his mother for building that confidence in them.
He gave his life for the third time when he was fifteen. The church his mother had been attending then had done an outdoor movie show where they played the movie ‘Burning Hell’.
The movie had been so vivid and fear-inducing that even those who had given their lives to Christ before, rushed out to give it again the moment the Pastor made an altar call.
Genesis couldn’t sleep for three days without hearing the sounds of those screams from hell. And each time he woke up, he begged God to forgive him and not throw him into hell.
The fear lasted exactly two weeks and he began to slip back into his old ways. The dreams stopped, the memory of the movie faded and he slowly but surely took his life back from Christ.
Since then he hadn’t given it again. He had sailed through university living the life of a man who liked his women, who knew what he had to offer and who wasn’t willing to relent on the fullness of life.
Genesis liked games and most of all, he was smart. That was another reason the ladies liked him. He was the one they came to for tutorials when exams were closing in.
The challenge of nailing a spiri-koko sister was one that sent adrenaline rushing through his veins. He was twenty-five, still virile and not looking to start a family so soon. Games like these, were what made life very interesting.
As he got ready for church that day, he replayed his plan in his head again.
He had not shared with his friends his strategy.
He would find the church, attend service there, twice at most and then miraculously ‘give’ his life to Christ in public glare. He would be touched by the sermon and kneel in reverence before God. His acting had to be top-notch to convince any potential prey.
A true spiri-koko woman, would not want to pass him up. He wasn’t just good looking; he had now confessed Christ in front of the church successfully denouncing his unbelieving ways. They would rejoice for him
She would no longer see the do- not- be unequally -yoked scripture as a barrier.
And he didn’t plan to target the choristers. Those ones with their cheap notice-me tactics, were all for the taking. One strike and they would fall without a challenge.
His plan was fool proof. He was sure that he won’t even need to approach the sisters with the abrasiveness of a hunter, they would come to him. Then he would pick his challenge.
He whistled to himself as he knotted his tie. First rule of the game; look responsible. A responsible unbeliever is more likely to get attention than a haphazardly dressed one.
‘I don set o,’ he called out, to Sly.
‘Which church you dey enter today?’ Sly emerged, dressed poorly, in Genesis opinion.
‘Hin dey Opebi side. I been see am as I dey come from work on Thursday,’ he opened his cupboard, took out a shirt and threw it at Sly. ‘Guy change that shirt, abeg. Why you dey fall my hand na? Na church you dey go, you wan make dem look you like pesin wey something dey worry abi?’
Sly shrugged, pulling off his own shirt. ‘De church wey I dey go, na so dem dey dress.’
‘That shirt no be am at all. E no follow abeg. Change am. Simple. And next time you wan come spend weekend for hia, carry beta cloth come.’
In two minutes, they were ready. While Sly slid into blue loafers that matched his jeans; Genesis wore his suede shoe that he kept for special occasions or work.
He had a good feeling about today, about this church. It might be the one.
His fingers tinkled with excitement as he locked the door behind them and set out.
Hello ladies, here I come.

To Be Continued.

Mimi. A. (C) 2015