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.
The Hourglass 