Unholy

Here folks, a short story to compensate for the long break from our beloved Genesis.

Ada shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the Pastor spoke. She wondered why the man kept punctuating his sentences with fornication.
Forni-cation. Funny-cassion. Foni-cashun.
The word turned around in her head. This was her fourth Sunday attending the church and the man’s sermons seemed to revolve around that topic. Like it was the only sin that riddled the ‘body of Christ’.
“When you go to a brother’s house at night, don’t you know you’re inviting sin? Inviting forni-cation?” the Pastor yelled.
Ada wanted to tell him that even when you went in the afternoon, when the sun was at its peak, fornication was always invited. Sometimes it came uninvited, unbidden, unannounced.
She could testify to that. She let her eyes stray to the choir stand, it was somewhere she’d been avoiding since the Pastor started screaming funny-cassion. But now as she dared look, she moistened her lips as the memories bombarded her.
It was supposed to be an interview, an opportunity to know more about the choir, to know how well she could sing, to know how motivated she was to join the choir.
It was her friend Nene, who was in the choir who had suggested that she join. She had even introduced her to the Music Director.
“It would help you develop your voice and work for God,” Nene said with excitement.
Nene was very good at convincing people so she had stood no chance when the girl had embarked on a join-the-choir crusade.
He had invited her to his house;
“I normally interview prospective choir members,” he said with an easy smile which made his face look better.
He had told her to come by 2pm on Saturday because he had rehearsals by 5pm that evening.
As she looked at him now, sitting in the front row, eyes fixed intently on the Pastor, she wondered how someone could be so ugly and yet so beautiful.
She recalled the hardness; of his chest and in his groin and she felt her body tingle.
She had gone to his house that day with all intentions to join the choir. She’d met him fully clothed and welcoming and she remembered thinking how his eyes were too close together. How he was too lanky with a tiny waist. She remembered thinking that God had probably compensated him for his looks by giving him the voice of a nightingale.

He had offered her a drink- Coke, if you please. Just to relax, before we get into business.
One hour went by and they had still not ventured into talking ‘business ‘, the more Ada tried to steer the conversation towards the choir, the more he pretended not to notice.
“Tell me about your family. How many siblings do you have?”
She wondered what her family had to do with her singing capacity.
And then he had gotten up at a point and turned on the stereo.
“Music, good for the soul.” he said.
He forgot to add for the body too.
It had happened in a flash, like she saw in the movies; one moment they had been sitting on the rugged floor, talking about mundane things, non-sexual or romantic things, and then the next his mouth had covered hers. Abruptly silencing her.
That was what thrilled her, the fact that he didn’t ask permission, that he took without asking.
The Pastor was right; stolen bread was indeed sweet.
At first she didn’t think, she couldn’t. He was kissing her senseless. His tongue playing with hers in a way she had never, never imagined.
And when she eventually began to gather her wits, he stopped.
She was breathless. His kiss had done that to her. She shut her eyes like a virgin, unsure and ashamed of herself. Ashamed that she had let him. And yet not wanting the moment to end.
And like he’d read her thoughts, he leaned in for another kiss. This time she welcomed him.
By the time his hands strolled to her green blouse and fumbled with her buttons, she knew she had no willpower to stop him.
And when he entered her, she screamed Jesus first, then his name, all in one breath.
Odogwu!
Thankfully the stereo was loudly blasting Frank Edwards ‘Thank God I Made It’.
Ada remembered thinking how ironic it was that they’d made love with that song playing in the background.
By the time they lay spent on the red rug, Ada imagined that the rug smelled of sex, of sin.
The next time she really looked at him, she saw not his ugliness, but a certain beauty. A beauty that came from giving pleasure.
And she wondered again, whether this was how the Spirit led people.
After having mind-blowing sex with the man and screaming his name in ecstasy, they would conclude that they were being led to marry him.
It had to be blasphemy; it had to be sin to get such fulfilment from sex. No wonder God had restricted it to marriage.

“So, did I pass the interview?” she turned to him, hoping he had enjoyed it as much as she had. She wasn’t an expert, not like him anyway considering that the number of lovers she’d had could be counted on just one hand.
He nuzzled her earlobe, tickling her.
By the time they went for the second round, Ada was convinced she would marry him. After all, a good marriage was sustained by a great sex life. If only she could have this for the rest of her life; she knew she would worship him. Worship at the altar of his little god- which was actually quite big.
And every night – and day maybe – he would take her to heaven.

“So what are we now?” she whispered, her feet curling into his.

“One,” he replied, kissing her again.
She chuckled to herself as she looked at him with his bushy eyebrows, looking so prim, proper and holy in his white plaid shirt.
She planned to visit him after service today, later this evening. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since their encounter a week ago.
She had to convince him that they were just right together.
Her attention was jerked back to the service as the Pastor said he had an announcement to make.
“There’s a wedding in our church. Pra-ise da Lord!”

She joined in the resounding hallelujah.
“Two of our members are tying the knot in a few months. They just informed me. Let us rejoice with Brother Odogwu, our able Music director, a man after my heart. He will be getting married to Sister Mariam. Please step forward both of you.”

As both parties approached the altar, Brother Odogwu beaming with pride and Sister Mariam, a shy petite woman clad in a sweeping skirt; there was a commotion at the back of the church.
It seemed a sister had just fainted or fallen under the anointing; no one could tell for sure.

THE END

Mimi. A ( C) 2014

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- 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.

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

The Club Of God-Fearing Men- 1

The alarm clock plus the continuous jabs to his back caused his eyes to peel open in a slow unhurried manner.

“Ahn ahn, wetin sef?” he croaked, rolling on his side.

“Seven ‘o’ clock don knack, dude. You don forget today na Sunday?”

The owner of the voice was Sly whose real name was Solomon.

“So, na im you wan break my back?” Genesis raised himself up, in slow movements. Everything about him was done without hurry. Nothing in life was worth the rush, he often told friends.

“Abeg your mouth dey smell. Na orijin you drink last night, abi?” Sly was hovering over the mattress in boxers and singlet, clutching a towel.

Genesis eyed him. “I no fit remember. I was wasted.”

“And you know say today na Sunday, you go party last night. Na so you wan go meet Jesus abi?”

“Why you dey shout? I tell you say I get hangover?”

Sly sighed, kicking the mattress. “We have a deal, dude. Don’t forget.”

Genesis moaned as he remembered the deal.

It had started out as a mini boys’ night out, like they usually did. Him, Sly, Tango and Chris were hanging out at the club that Friday, tossing back shots of tequila mixed with humour.

Then one of them, Chris, had said something about the latest girl he was into.

“One church babe like that o, the babe no dey even give me face,” he lamented. “And she fine die, see curves mehn!”

“Use your charms on her na. You na fine boy,” Sly urged.

“Omo, this babe is not smiling jor. I don try all my tricks, she no budge.”

“Then leave am. Wetin she get sef?” Tango said. He was tall with ripping muscles and stretch marks that crept out from under his sleeveless shirts.

“There’s something sexy about babes you can’t have,” Genesis chipped in, biting down on the lime that came with his drink. “Especially these real spirikoko church girls. Those ones that will dress simple without excess makeup and all that, and then when you look underneath that simple façade, there’s a hot chick waiting to be unleashed.”

“Exactly, bro.” Chris nodded.

“Are you saying church babes no dey get conji?” Tango asked, grinning.

“No, not every church babe, no be those ones wey dey rush hide under church when they don dey old and dey find God-fearing husband. Not that type. I mean deep, correct sistah-in-da-Lord.” Genesis continued.

“And na their own go sweet pass o!” Sly chuckled. He was dark with feral features that most women found irresistible.

“True!” the other three agreed.

“Anybody don nail that kain girl before? Tango?” Chris sked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Why you call my name first eh?”

They laughed, they all knew that Tango was a relentless womanizer; his well-built chest and the fact that he often modeled, was an aphrodisiac for the women.

“Oya, make we do am like this. What is the thing church babes find most attractive?” Genesis asked.

“Jesus Christ?” Sly replied and they burst into laughter.

“Idiot. Check their prayer point and you will see the first thing there na God-fearing-man.” Genesis replied. “You see Caro my neighbor; on Friday night you go hear uh uh uh from her room and Sunday morning you go dey hear prayer of send me a God-fearing- husband. Even prostitutes dey find God-fearing man!” Genesis said.

“Oya in essence what are you saying?” Tango asked.

“I’m saying, Chris if you want to nail a spirikoko sister, you have to become what they want the most.”

“A God-fearing-man!” they recited.

And that was how it began. Their little joke had morphed into something like a challenge, four of them decided to take on new identities to nail the spirikoko women of their choice.

That was two weeks ago; since then they had been scouting for the right churches to attend.

The first one Genesis had attended had been disqualified the moment he met the usher at the door; a woman whose cleavages did more welcoming than the rest of her. His seatmate too, shoki-ed all the way through praise-worship and promptly dozed off as soon as the Pastor mounted the pulpit.

At the end of the service, the sister who was part of the first timers welcome committee had given him a hug that gave him an erection.

“We hope you enjoyed fellowshipping with us?” she said, with a bright smile.

“I sure did enjoy fellowshipping with them,” he replied, his eyes never leaving her heavy chest.

He did not return to that church, it would not have been much of a challenge to pick any lady in that church for their little game.

The second church he attended, located in the cul-de-sac in their street was a laugh. The first thing that had struck him was the lady who wore skirts so tight he thought they would split when she started rolling on the floor speaking in tongues.

He almost laughed at the display while watching it through his hands. Who said church wasn’t much fun?

This time when the service was over, a woman who looked a total contrast to the tight-skirt floor-roller, in her grey sweeping gown and headgear that covered her ears approached him with a semi-scowl.

Genesis had wondered if she could see into his soul and hated him already.

“Welcome brother. Are you born again?”

“Er…”he was taken aback, especially since he had planned to leave as soon as the service was over.

“You are not. I see generational curses following you, brother. Right there, hovering above your head is a black coffin. Brother, you need deliverance, you need help from God.”

“At least me I have coffin hanging over my head, you are lying inside a grave. Rubbish.” With that he hissed and exited the church.

Those were the two churches he had tried so far. His friends had spread out too; they didn’t want to concentrate on one church. So far, no body except Chris had found the right church to settle in.

Genesis sighed as he made his way to the bathroom; it was going to be another dramatic Sunday.

He hoped to have better luck at his next stop.

To Be Continued…

MIMI A 2015 ©

HaPpY New YeAr: Unapproachable LiNDa

2015! Yaaay! Hey people. So, a friend and I played around with New Year stories and this is what I came up with. And as kind and generous as I am, I decided to share with you lovely readers.

Here’s to the first Hourglass post of the year. A little som’thin som’thin to keep you chuckling.
Cheers!

Don’t forget to drop your thoughts, they would be much appreciated. Enjoy!

*****

The night smelled of burning rubber. He clenched his hand to allay the nervousness that was eating away steadily at his gut.
Woman wrapper was the word that did it. That Timothy, of all people could call him that tore at his pride.
He; who had dared ask unapproachable Linda in her high heels and short skirts, out.
It was ironic that he was doing this now for her. She had promised that next year would be different, that she would not stop him from being with her- as long as he could prove himself.
Prove how? He asked, a puppy seeking approval from its master.
She had looked at him with those brown eyes and said; for New Year, I want a life chicken.
What? His twenty year old brain could not comprehend what a life chicken had to do with their romance.
Show me how much you love me. I love you, I love you no be by mouth.
She was right. Linda was an expensive girl, it showed in her rainbow makeup and her Ghana-must-go type of handbags. If he wanted to keep her interested, he had to buckle up.
And so he had found himself here. About to rob a church.

The idea had come as a joke at first, three jobless youths talking about how to make quick money this period. He had laughed it off when big-eye Timothy had suggested it.
But Ayo had bought the idea; had even offered to get the toy guns for the operation.
Why use guns if they’re toys? He wondered.
To scare them.
He had refused at first, thinking of his resolution to turn a new leaf this New Year. Then he had thought of Linda’s life chicken and Timothy’s taunting.
Just this once. And it must be over before 12:01am. He believed in resolutions.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and Timothy nodded at him. It was time. They slipped on their masks and waited as Ayo made his way to the back of the church.
The plan was simple; intimidate an usher to get the message across to the Pastor that service was being interrupted. Enter and make everyone surrender their valuables. Easy. The church was one of those average churches that had zero security.
As he stepped into the church behind Timothy, he saw that Ayo had done his job; everyone was lying face down.
Ayo handed him an offering bag.
Armed with bag in one hand, gun in another, he began his rounds.
Everybody submit your valuables before I shoot. Timothy growled.
Ike’s hands shook as he passed the bag around, his eyes glancing at the big clock intermittently.
11:50pm.
Ike! A harsh whisper in a familiar voice.
It was Linda, kneeling, her hands dangling over the offering bag he held.
He opened his mouth to explain then stopped as she raised her right thumb discreetly before lowering her head.
His confidence returned as he realised she had just given him the go-ahead.

Mimi A (C) 2015

Sunday Tonic- Aggression (Just for Laughs)

Pastor Konga’s church premises was one of those former buildings that they used for events like clubbing, pool parties(even though there was no pool) and the likes; he’d somehow found a way to change its appearance and turn it to the house of God.
He’d divided the building into two, one side was the main church and the smaller side was…something else that I suspected was the office because its doors were closed when I got to the church that evening. Everywhere looked deserted; the altar side was crudely decorated with all these faded palm fronds. Maybe they were trying to copy all these big churches that used those fine artificial flowers to decorate their altar but their copy copy had gone wrong because their own palm fronds were the colour of dying animals but then again it might just have been my bias against the Konga ministries.

A sign on the altar flashed “Jehovah Sharp-Sharp, the God of amoured combet”. Yes, the armoured was missing an ‘r’ while the ‘a’ in combat was an ‘e’ and I had to laugh. Wetin the man use im degree do sef? And what about his air-headed members? They hadn’t seen these mistakes since?

Something reminded me that my wife was one of the air-headed flock and I wasn’t surprised she could believe such bullshit about Sabbath sex and worefa. His members couldn’t spell common ‘armoured combat’ and when did Jehovah Sharp-Sharp turn to one of the names of God? Mtcheeew I was too busy boiling within that it took me time to notice the sounds coming from the office. I however began to hear the muffled screams of ‘Oh God!’, ‘Jesus!’ and some occasional shouts of ‘sharwama’ which I later modified to be tongues. Tongues from the Pastor Konga.com himself.

He was praying. Chai. How could I disturb a man that was on the mountain? What kind of bad luck was this one sef? I didn’t have all day to wait for him. And when on earth would his prayers finish? Even God would not forgive me if I interrupted the man’s prayers like that just because he’d reduced my sex life to zero.
Shey God struck someone in the Bible dead because of interruption of the Priest’s prayers? Ehen, any time you enter the Ark of God, it is holy and if any kain person interrupts the Priest while he is in the Ark of God, fyam! His own don finish. Shey na wetin do that man wey make King David fear say make them carry Ark of God go those other people country? Yes, yes. My memory isn’t rusty after all. I still sabi Bible small.
         Oya wait. Just wait let him finish the prayer. Ten minutes no go kill you.
So I sat down and began to wait. But the missing r in ‘armoured’ no allow me to rest, then the ‘e’ in combet con dey vex me, I just decided that I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up and went to the office door and knocked.

I didn’t hear anything again. Gbam. My guy man don pray finish. Halleluyah!
I knocked again, I come dey hear noises like say person dey arrange something. I could not wait again, I just entered.
See me see Pastor Konga. Sha the man is fine and that fact alone made me angry. He is using his fineness and bad English to scam people. Amoured combet ke.
He was sitting behind a large desk, gripping the edge of the desk hard and frowning, Bibles were open on the desk and a bottle of oil was there too.
“Yes?”
He was sweating, a side effect of correct prayer, I think.
“Pastor Konga dot com…erm…sorry. Pastor Konga my name is Kingsley Iwu. My wife is er…a member of this church and…”
“Who’s your wife?” the man was boning.
Why is he looking angry with me? Because I barged in on his payers? Haba. But my matter is urgent nah. Amoured combet cannot just be attacking me inside that church and I will just stay like that or maybe it is me that needs deliverance. Maybe angels are chasing me out of the church because I am a sinner.
“Sorry for disturbing your prayers sir,” I offered.
“Er…yes. No problem. Please be quick I would like to returned back to it.”
Did he say ‘returned back’? Omo, see gbabagaun nau. See if I be all these people wey dey screen churches, I will just ask the pastor to preach one sermon and if he just dey scatter grammar I will just order the church to be closed down. Hian.
Now how do I start to make this complaint that I will not look stupid? Pastor, my wife is not sleeping with me again because of you? And he hadn’t even asked me to sit down. So I took initiative and offered myself a seat, in the chair across him.
“Yes? Yes?” he prompted, tapping the desk.
“Erm…are you married, Pastor?” Safe approach, let’s talk man-to-man.
“No. The Lord hasn’t lead me yet but what is the business of that with this? Who is your wife?”
“Well, I thought you were married so we could talk like men but the bottom line is my wife is not sleeping with me except once a week because you apparently told her to cut down on her carnal crap. Is that what God sent you to do, Pastor?”
I could swear I heard a snort. From him? But his face didn’t move. And how dare he laugh at the mess he created?
“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, “can we talk it another time Mister…Iwu? I am on the middle of something, please? I understand all you’re saying but now is a bad time…as you can see I am…er…praying.”
“But you’re talking to me now. Why don’t you just pick the phone and call my wife and tell her you heard wrong from God that she can absolutely have sex with me? What’s the big deal there? Besides let me tell you, I don’t believe that God will ever say such a thing. Wetin concern conductor with overload na?”
“Please sir, later please. I will attend to you…tomorrow. You know how it is when you’re praying and receiving from God. It is not good to interrupt spiritual things like that. Just come tomorrow eh and remember I am a man of God, so mind how you talk to me.”
“So tomorrow you will fix this problem?”
“Definitely.”
I wasn’t satisfied but it was obvious he wasn’t going to attend to me today and since he’d promised I would get answers tomorrow, I agreed to leave.

So I turned to leave. My mission had been futile. I walked to my car with head bowed, no sex tonight again? How long will this go on? I bent to open the car but realised that I wasn’t with my keys. I must’ve forgotten them in the office. Ooh! Now how will I go and interrupt the man’s prayers especially after how he kicked me out? Which kain bad luck be that one sef?

And yet no matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t avoid it. I had to leave this church with my car which meant I had to go back to the office.

I paused in front of the door as I heard the voices. Not just Pastor Konga.com but someone else. But how? There had been no one else in the office. Who was he then talking to?
And then the screams of oh my God and Jesus began again.
Do it. Just enter and pick the car keys as quietly as possible and leave. I told myself. No need to interrupt his intercession.
So I entered, without bothering to knock and my mouth fell open at the sight that met my eyes. Pastor Konga was sitting on his desk, head thrown back in ecstasy as a woman knelt before him, ‘praying’ at the altar of his penis. Both froze as they saw me. Perfect picture pose.

Without thinking twice, I whipped out my phone and said, “Say cheese.”
Well, to cut the long story short, me and my bootilicious wife got down to the deed that night. Apparently, God showed another vision to Pastor Konga.com saying that carnal desires with one’s husband weren’t a sin after all.
Ta-da! The day is saved!

 Author’s Note: Okay so I kept my word. It is finally over. My fingers didn’t grow a mind of their own this time. Yaay! This story hasn’t been about mocking anyone, it is just a way to get people to open their eyes and not let themselves be exploited by people bearing the form of godliness. You don’t need a human mediator to communicate to God, you can do it on your own because He listens to you too. You’re His child too. I do hope that as much as this has been entertaining, it has also been able to teach us some life lessons.
Thank you for following and oh…comments are welcome as always. Always.

Mimi A.

DELIVERANCE SESSION

“Every scorpion that is biting you from the pit of hell, in the name of Jesus die by fire!” The Man of God thundered.
Linus snuck a look at the man, he was sweating profusely; his faded black shirt soaked to his singlet.
  “Pray brother!Pray! The forces of darkness will not prevail!! Prayyyyyyy!”
   Linus’ knees were getting sore, he’d been kneeling for almost two hours. Why had he listened to Chris? Why had he even told Chris about his little problem? He could have solved it without this histrionics. Deliverance indeed!
   First the Man of God had told him to ‘abstain from food for at least three days before the deliverance session’
Three days ke? He’d wanted to ask.
Instead he’d nodded dutifully. And he hadn’t fasted.
    Then the man of God had insisted that the deliverance session be held in his house.
“Why?”he asked bluntly.
“The spirit of the Lord ministered it to me. Your house it must be.”
“What about my neighbors?”his thoughts flashed to Sewe,the girl he’d been toasting for six months; what would she think of him?
“The power of God is unstoppable.Where the spirit of God is, there’s liberty. Your neighbours will benefit from it too.”
  He gave in because he saw that the man wasn’t going to give up.
“So tell me whag the problem is exactly. Do not lie to the spirit of God. Remember Ananias and Sapphira,” the man of God warned.
Linus felt the blood rush to his face. He was expected to blab about his private life to the man? Why couldn’t they just pray and forget about it?
“Er…I thought you knew. Didn’t the spirit of God minister to you about it?”he asked stalling.
The Man of God blinked and fixed him with a steady stare.

   Here they were, a week later in house, actual going through with the deliverance session. He was self conscious as the man screamed and jumped calling down God’s fire on the demons inhabiting in Linus’ body.

Get it done with already! Linus screamed within him. He had to keep dodging the spittle that flew at him from the man’s mouth.
I’ll kill Chris!he thought.

“Get out now! Now! In the name of Jesuuuusssss!”
Before Linus could blink he felt a huge slap on his forehead and next thing he knew, he was lying flat on the floor.
“Yes! Victory!” The man of God jumped in triumph.

A splitting headache suddenly developed in Linus head and he felt the rage boil within him as he struggled to his feet.
“Die! Die!”the man of God released another set of spittle on his face and pushed him back to the ground, “Let him go! Loose him and let him go! Now!”

Now Linus was really angry. His blood boiled with rage. No one, no one ever took advantage of him.
As he rose to his feet, he saw the Man of God’s hand reaching out to him again and this time he dodged and plunged headlong into the man’s stomach.
While Linus was a heavily built six feet two, the man of God was a shrivelling five feet six. It wasn’t difficult to tackle him to the floor and start pummeling.

“You’re mad! Nonsense! I will kill you today! Useless pastor!”
“E joo, please!”
“Let your spirit of God help you now! Fake pastor!” Linus panted in between blows.
“Chei! I want to piss oo! Ah…it is not spirit of God oo! Abeg!”

The neighbors gathered and from the corner of his eye, Linus saw Sewe staring at him with a smirk on her face.