The Marriage Counsellor

My hands were sweaty in anticipation as I sat behind the mahogany desk that vested me with authority. It didn’t happen always, I didn’t get nervous over counseling sections often. I had been a marriage counselor in the church for seven years. The way it went in my church; you applied for the position, with reasons why you wanted to serve in that department of the church.
I still remembered the day I sent in my application. One moment I was cuddled up in bed with my favourite blanket and favorite Gary Chapman book, feeling floozy and lovey, the next I was considering how beautiful it would be to make a side career from being a marriage counselor. A Christian marriage counselor. I sent in an application on that whim however I would later refer to it as the spirit of God in me, conveniently forgetting a lot of things that had happened in my life that led to that flashlight moment.
My application went through and my interview was smooth; I was exactly the kind of person they needed on the team; dynamic, not-too-old, knowledgeable, zealous and passionate about relationships and God.
“I think the church has gotten to an extent where we are slack about the relationships we keep. There’s no seeing eye, no one fears God anymore to think about what they do in their relationships. God is invisible to them, we are the god they see. We are the ones to censor whatever goes on when they leave the church premises and go back to their lives out there. I am willing to give my all to make sure that there is no unequal yoking going on in church and there are no games being played behind our backs.” That was the speech that won over the Pastors who interviewed me. A speech that whenever I recalled, I always smiled, giving myself a mental high-five.
I liked to think that it was that same memorable speech that got me steadily climbing the ladder till I was made second-in-command on the Marriage Committee. Deputy Head Counselor, a title I wore with…pride. The good kind of pride, as expected. I was a Christian and pride was not a part of the fruit of the spirit.
I shuffled the papers before me, trying to look important, trying to not show how nervous I was to start this session.
“Sister Jumoke, are you okay?” it was Mrs Nike speaking. She had wide teeth I thought looked like a rabbit’s. Her makeup was always bland, a dash of talcum powder, no doubt and then lip gloss as light as vaseline applied on her thick lips. And yet she was married. It beat me how God worked. I knew I wasn’t exactly Miss World, but then again I wasn’t Miss Ugly, I didn’t have rabbit teeth and didn’t use makeup like a morgue attendant. So, what was wrong with me? I often wondered when I looked at her.
“I’m fine,” I replied, trying to pretend I appreciated her kindness. Another reason I wasn’t really comfortable with her was because she had been passed over for The Deputy Head position and it had been handed to me.
It was no secret that the position was the most envied position after the Head Counselor; the Deputy Head was powerful enough to determine if a wedding would hold in church or not. Sometimes desperate couples bombarded the Head Counselor and Deputy Counselor with ‘gifts’ while hinting on what they actually wanted from them.
Once, in my short tenure as Deputy, a sister who’d been undergoing counseling with us had approached me and offered to ‘take me shopping’ and ‘spoil’ me as ‘directed by the Holy Spirit’. The reason for this she later confessed to me was that she had discovered she was pregnant and needed my help to cover it up for her wedding to go on.
“So you’re telling me the Holy Spirit directed you to commit fornication then bribe me to help you cover up the consequences?” I asked.
“No ma…erm…please…”
“Don’t ‘ma’ me!” I yelled more annoyed at being called ma than anything. Did the position come with such salty respect or did I look that old? “It is people like you that are desecrating the house of God, tarnishing the image of Christianity.”
“No, please! I beg you…in the name of God, just help me. if we don’t get married soon, it will…the pregnancy would start showing and…my father will…please ma, just help me for God’s sake.” she was almost kneeling, her lips quivering.
“Was I there when you were doing the deed?” I asked, my voice tinged with contempt. “You dare bribe a servant of God and blame it on the Holy Spirit? Jesus Christ!”
“No…it was the…devil. Yes, the work of the devil.”
I didn’t tell her I envied her. That the real reason for my self-righteousness was because she had what I didn’t. A man to love her, to want her, to touch her. She had a baby growing inside her!
I was thirty-six, never been touched by a man, never experienced an orgasm in my lifetime. The closest I’d come to pleasure were those moments in my bathtub at home, imagining Bro Terence with my fingers groping.
Bro. Terence who was due to arrive any moment for his marriage classes to begin.
Bro. Terence, tall and good-looking whom I had wanted from the first time I heard him sing, yet he never noticed me. Whenever our paths crossed, he greeted me with a slight head bow and a ‘ma’ attached.
The first day he called me ‘ma’, I had gone home and cried myself to sleep. Was I that old, that unappealing? I wondered. Did he now see me as his mother instead of as a woman?
I wasn’t much older than him for Chrissakes! And looking at his file before me now, I saw he was even a year older than I was. How. Dare. He. Ma. Me!
“Ahem.” the sound snapped me out of my semi-trance.
I looked up. The couple was just entering.
My eyes drank in Bro. Terence, dressed in a white U.S.A T-shirt and jeans with blue sneakers, giving him a casual but ‘hot’ look. His haircut was the same; adult punk. He had well-shaped fingers that I often imagined in my lonely nights, dancing across my thighs, squeezing my nipples.
Fingers I wanted to kiss.
Sighing, I shifted my gaze to the lady. Sister Angela was her name in the file but when I saw her, something in me snapped.
****
More than a decade ago, I had been in love with a wonderful man. Or so I thought.
Tunji was my first and so far, only love. I was a new convert, a babe in the faith when he’d approached me. He was the Brothers Coordinator of the fellowship, the crush of every sister. Tall, handsome, Holy Ghost filled and tongue-tongueing.
I was no exception. I fell hard when he came to me.
“I see you in my future,” he’d said as we sat in the school’s Love Garden one evening.
My heart raced. I knew God had promised me a husband if I followed Him diligently but I didn’t know it would happen so fast…I was barely six months in the faith.
“You’ re special Jummy,” he continued, his fingers entwining mine. “You and I together, can fulfill purpose.”
The word ‘purpose ‘ rang in my head. We’d been talking a lot about that in church recently, how we had to find the purpose we were on earth. We were studying Rick Warren’s The Purpose -Driven Life at the time.
“What do you think?” he asked, turning his dreamy eyes on me.
“I…I’ll think about it.” I replied.
“Think, but not too much. Praying is more important.”
I blushed then. Could life get any better?
I did neither praying nor thinking, instead I fantasized. Whenever we were in church, I would stare at the back of his head thinking :
“He chose me! Out of all these sisters, he came to me!”

We started dating a month later and it wasn’t difficult to imagine him in my future. A future we spent every second planning for, we would sit on his bed in his room, leaning against each other, talking, naming kids we didn’t have, discussing in-laws we hadn’t met.
The crown of it all was he never made a move towards sex. When we first began, he had held my hands, looked me in the eye and said;
“I will not touch you inappropriately Jummy. I respect you and would want to see where God takes us with this relationship.”
I knew how many sisters in the fellowship lamented about their boyfriends and how they demanded for sex, I remembered the many nights I thanked God for the man I had.
We were three years into our relationship when Toke joined the fellowship. Toke, who looked good in mini skirts or Mary-Amakas. She didn’t have to wear mini skirts to be every brother’s fantasy, all she had to do was just be her. And then she had the charisma of Margaret Thatcher. She was outspoken, the kind who could stand up in church and give a word of prophecy without balking.
I didn’t think much of her at first, until she was made the sister’s coordinator few months after she joined. Tunji had just graduated then but was called back as an alumni to give a three day seminar to incoming excos.
Perhaps I should have seen it coming, but I did not. Soon, Tunji was spending less time with me and more time elsewhere.
It wasn’t long before he told me it wasn’t working between us.
“What do you mean it’s not working?” I asked, almost hysterical. I had given him my all, for the future he promised.
“I mean, I think God is leading me elsewhere. I don’t want to hurt you, Jummy,” he had the good grace to look contrite.
“The same God who led you to me, made a mistake before? Or did you just see someone with wider hips and decide you’d fulfill purpose better with her?” Even then, I knew somehow that there was someone else.
I didn’t know it was Toke until three months after we broke up. I was still depressed, dressing like a homeless person. I saw them leaving the cinema together, laughing and holding each other.
I turned and walked away, not wanting to be seen.

Toke’s face was forever etched in my memory.
And now I’m looking in a face; Angela’s face, and I see it’s none other than Toke. Toke, the one who’d taken Tunji from me, had done same to Terrence.
How had Terrence found her? Of all the women in our church, why had he gone outside and picked this relationship wrecker?
I stared at her, checking to see if she recognized me. I didn’t expect her to anyway, I was faceless to her. She had never bothered to know whose man she was stealing when she did.
Looking at her now, she hadn’t changed much. Yes, she was older, but she still had that slutty-sisterly quality about her. I could see why men would be attracted to her.
I zoned out as I listened to the remaining counselors ask them questions. I looked at Bro Terrence and saw Tunji. Tunji, who I gave three years of my life to and suddenly couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Tunji who had made me become obsessed with relationships and what went wrong with them. Tunji who made me take up this position as marriage counselor, because the only way I could see myself being a part of any marriage was by doing what I did. Being an outsider looking in. Years had gone by, I was thirty-six; an old maid and the best I had done was masturbate myself to sleep.
And then it occurred to me at that moment; who was I keeping myself for? It had stopped being about God a long time ago, everything about my life was no longer about God. It was fake, God was the facade I used to hide my flaws.
The reason I had wanted to become a counselor was not because of God, the reason I obstructed weddings and refused to budge when bribed was not because I was noble; it was because I was powerful. I loved the power, I loved knowing that I had the fate of a couple in my hands. Like now.
It was time to crush Toke and Terence.
I looked up, smiling in my heart;
“Are you a virgin?” I asked, directing the question at Toke, who sat cross-legged in her knee-length skirt.
She blinked, then glanced at Terrence.
I could feel the eyes of my colleagues on me. This was not part of the script.
“Please answer the question, sister.” I prodded.
“I…I don’t see how that’s relevant,” she said, mild irritation showing in her voice.
“Do you want to marry this man or not?” I asked, unfazed.
“Yes.”
“Then answer.”
“No, I’m not,” she mumbled.
“Have you ever been pregnant?”
This time there was an audible sound from my colleagues. Toke was looking at me, frozen.
“Why are you asking her that?” Mrs Adejumo passed a note to me.
“As the spirit leads.” I replied.
Infact, it was no spirit. When Tunji had jilted me for Toke years ago, I had made it a mission to keep tabs on their lives, especially Toke.
I knew she had gotten pregnant at some point in their relationship; that she had gotten rid of the baby was a tidbit that I had happened upon by chance. The doctor who had performed the abortion was a friend of my sister’s.
“Angie, please answer,” I saw Terence nudge her.
“You want to marry this man, don’t you? ” I asked again. “The key to a happy marriage is communication. It is getting rid of all secrets before you walk down the aisle.”
There was a pleading look in her eyes as she looked at me. Her lips quivered as she said;
“Yes, I have.”
From the look on Terence’s face, I knew he had no idea. Strike one.
“What happened to the baby?” I continued.
Terrence was staring at her, like he was seeing her for the first time.
“I…I don’t have to answer that. It’s…private,” she stuttered.
By now, everyone was curious, waiting in hushed silence.
“Let me help you answer it then. You had an abortion, yes? During which your womb was damaged. Sister Toke, you can’t have children, can you?” I didn’t blink as I let the words leave my mouth.
There was a gasp from somewhere in the room.
Terrence stood abruptly, his face a mirror of the pain I felt years ago. Strike two.
“Is that true?” he bellowed, turning to her.
“Terry, please. Just…just hear me out…please…” she stood too, a hand on his arm. Tears streaming down her face.
“And you didn’t tell me? You didn’t tell me! God! I can’t handle this right now!” With that Terence stormed out of the room.
Toke glanced at me once, pain and anger written all over her face.
“You think I don’t remember you? You exposed yourself the moment you called me Toke. No wonder Tunji left you! No wonder you’re still alone after all these years! Your heart is wicked!” with that she rushed out after Terence.
Her words sank into me like water into a sponge.
Strike three and…out.

Mimi. A.

The Club Of God-fearing Men- 13

Silence reigned for a few seconds after he dropped by the bombshell. He waited, tense, sneaking a look at Lola’s face.
Suddenly the tension broke as she burst into laughter.
Genesis let a smile loose as he watched her throw her head back, tears peeking out of her eyelids.
‘You’re kidding right?’ she asked in-between bouts of uncontrolled laughter.
‘Er…what do you think?’ he was trying to read this woman. She didn’t seem like the average woman who got thrown off-balance by sweet talk.
‘I think you’re crazy or stupid. Or delusional.’ She cocked an eyebrow at him, ‘you’ve known me what – all of two weeks, yeah? And you’re already seeing vision? When I’m not mammy water or Miss World?’
He smiled then. He had to admit, her sense of humour was infectious.
‘So you don’t think you’re beautiful, is that it?’ he asked, still playing it cool.
‘On the contrary, I think I’m gorgeous. But I also don’t think anyone can possibly have visions about a woman he barely knows. Come on, all we’ve talked about is bible and church. So what about me is so adorable, apart from my nice ass?’ she wiggled her forefinger at him.
‘You. That. That amazing sense of humour. I admit you’ve got a nice ass…I mean, who won’t notice? He winked at her. ‘But you’ve got something more…you’re smart, you love God. You are hot. That combination is the bomb. I mean, what’s not to like?’
She laughed again, her right hand tucked beneath her chin as she looked at him.
‘I take exception to being called hot, by the way.’
‘Yes ma’am,’ he actually enjoyed listening to her talk, and she had taken his mind of Abbey at least.
‘Now that’s cleared…can we continue with our lesson?’
‘What’s cleared? You didn’t give me an answer, woman.’
‘An answer to what, Genesis? Don’t do this abeg, or…’
‘Or what?’
‘I might have to put in a request for a change…if we can’t make this work,’ it was the first time he had seen her looking so solemn.
‘Just one dinner, Lola. Let’s get to know each other better. You are, after all my new best friend, right?’
‘Genesis.’
‘Once. It’ll be fun, I promise. Look at me now, I’m Mister Fun Guy.’
‘Fine. One dinner. And it’s not a date. Now, can we go back to our lesson?’
‘Yes ma’am.’

****
‘The babe dey form like say my chest no impress her…’ Tango was saying.
They were at an isi ewu joint in the area; Chris had just been paid salary and had offered to take them out for goat head and drinks.
As usual, the topic of discussion was their recent escapades and how far they’d gone in their game.
‘Wait T, you showed her your chest?’ Chris asked, nursing a bottle of Star.
‘Accidentally,’ Tango grinned, showing off a set of shallow dimples.
‘Abeg how persin dey take show persin chest accidentally eh? Abeg enlighten us…I wan learn.’ Sly munched away on his meat.
‘She been come my house…’
‘Wait, your house already? Bros, you sure say that geh na true spirikoko?’ Genesis interrupted.
‘I don dey her case for three weeks now o. Besides, I had to lie that I was sick to get her to come,’ he winked.
‘Correct, guy!’ Sly hailed.
‘So di geh show o. Omo, I tink say she go carry food flask come, as per sick persin. Omo, babe carry big Bible come o. And me I been dey without shirt, dey reason say if she come, she go play mother and then one thing go lead to another na…chai, na dat day I know say Nollywood sabi lie! If na Desmond Elliot do dat kain tin, na so di geh go fall sharply like persin wey no get gravity. Mtchew.’
His friends burst into laughter at his words.
‘Na you be mumu for believing Nollywood,’ Genesis chuckled.
‘Na you sabi.’
‘Oya continue…’ Chris urged him.
‘Di babe no even look my chest twice. She just stand for door talk say make I wear shirt before she go enter.’
‘Erm… but wait o T. Wetin be the babe name? Shebi you’ve known her for three weeks? Why you still calling her ‘babe’?’ Genesis didn’t know why it suddenly rattled him the way Tango referred to the girl. He had done it himself several times before; referring to the girl he was sleeping with as something impersonal like ‘babe’ or ‘chic’. It helped him keep an emotional distance, no strings attached so that it was easier walking away when he needed to. He didn’t do pet names or endearments; he didn’t ‘baby’ anyone and let no one ‘baby’ him either. The moment a girl started calling him ‘baby’, honey or whatever; he knew it was time to call it quits. Once, a girl he had been sleeping with started referring to him as ‘Poo-pooey’ in her text messages and Genesis had immediately screened her number. What the heck was poo-pooey?
‘Since when did names matter?’ Tango was saying.
‘I dunno…I just think it sounds…disrespectful especially since you’ve known her er…’ Genesis paused, uncomfortable. What was he getting at sef?
‘G-man, you well so?’ Sly asked. ‘We don’t care about her name. It’s just a freaking game! When he’s gotten what he wants, he’s out. So why use her name when she’s not even his girlfriend?’
The logic made perfect sense, or it would have on another day. But today, it just didn’t sit well with Genesis.
‘I just think…what if she was your sister and…some guy referred to her like…that?’ he pressed.
‘Dude, you did not think about that when we were agreeing to nail a spiri-koko sister o. Why is it important now? Wetin dey do you sef? You get belle?’ Sly snickered.
‘Ah…I think Genesis has a point,’ Chris spoke up in his quiet baritone. ‘Even if it is a game, the least we could do is remember that these girls are human beings…it’s not too much to ask to use their names in a conversation. They’re not inanimate objects.’
‘Biko, pause with that your grammar, Chris. This thing is not a big deal. Shebi na my babe she be? Then I will call her whatever the heck I want. O pari.’ Tango’s eyes flared briefly as he spoke.
Genesis sighed. He couldn’t understand what he had been fussing about but to him it suddenly mattered. He couldn’t picture himself calling Lola anything other than her name. Maybe it was because they had taken a more personal approach. It wasn’t just like the normal chase, this was different.
Their table went into an uncomfortable silence after the semi- brawl and Genesis found himself looking at his friends in a new light.
He had known Tango for five years now and he remembered when he’d first met him; at a club, charming the girls off their feet. He had liked the guy’s magnetic pull. There were always ladies around him and he oozed a type of confidence that was attractive. And yet when Genesis got closer to him, he saw that that was all he was- body, muscles and looks. His confidence came from his looks, and all he talked about was girls.
Whenever Genesis wanted to have an intelligent conversation, he went to Chris. Chris, the quiet intellectual one. Ordinarily, he wasn’t Genesis type; he preferred the boisterous outgoing guys as friends, but he was drawn to Chris’ ingenuity.
They had met at NYSC camp, they had been in the same platoon and had both represented their platoon in the debate competition. That was where Genesis had gotten interested in Chris and he had not known the relationship would last this long.
Sly was the oldest of Chris’ friends. They had gone to school together, studied the same course, but where Genesis was genuinely interested in engineering, Sly preferred clubbing.
It occurred to Genesis as he sat with them, gulping down drinks and exchanging small chit-chat, that something was going on in him that he could not explain. Whether he liked it or not, he was yet to find out.

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- 10

She picked on the first ring, like she had been waiting for the call.
For an instant, Genesis was caught off-guard.
“Finally!” she spoke, almost breathless. “Hello, who’s this?”
“I…um…this is Genesis from…”
“Ah, Genesis! I need a favour from you immediately, please! Do you stay anywhere around Opebi?”
He didn’t understand what was going on, but he replied, “Erm…yeah. I stay somewhere around Berger.”
Her sigh of relief was audible. “Good. Please, I need you.”
“Excuse me, but do you know who you’re speaking with?” He asked, befuddled.
“Genesis, yeah? Stalker dude with the weird name from Grace Assembly and then the club?” her words came out sounding like full-stops. Like she was fighting to be cordial yet abrupt; like she was talking to a 911 operative.
“Well, yes…no. I mean…”
He was no stalker dammit.
“Which is it please?”
“Yes, I am that Genesis.”
“Please I need your help…just…come over, please. Here’s my address.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond as she rattled off the address.
“When you get to the gate, just call me,” she said, with a finality that he could not argue.
Genesis wanted to ask if she was crazy, if she knew what time of the night it was. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t coming.
Instead, he said okay and hung up.
He did not think about it as he hurried into his clothes. There was nothing to think about, his brain wasn’t going to process anything about the situation at this moment so he figured his best bet was to get to her place and figure this whole thing out.
As he drove out of his compound, it occurred to him that she hadn’t bothered to know how he would find his way to her place. What if he didn’t own a car?
It was Sunday night, the roads were free and in ten minutes, he arrived at her gate.
As soon as he called to inform her of his presence, he saw the gate parting to let him in. In the dimness of his car lights, he saw her. She was carrying something.
He watched her struggle with the gate with one hand, while using the other to support the bundle she was carrying.
He stepped out of the car towards her.
“Leave it. I’ll open it,” he said, taking over.
She nodded and he noticed she was perspiring. Her feet were bare, like she had rushed out not caring.
What was going on?
He drove in and closed the gate behind him. By the time he was out of the car, she was standing on the porch.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“Come in. I need you to help me with the girls.”
She turned to enter the house and Genesis saw her stumble, instinctively he reached out to steady her and his hand brushed against her skin. He recoiled.
She was burning hot.
“Jesus! You’re burning up!” he exclaimed, stretching his hand to take the bundle, which turned out to be one of the girls, from her.
“I’ll be fine. She’s worse.”
And yes she was; the little girl’s body seemed to be prickling with heat.
“You’re all sick?” he asked, following her into the house.
“Talk later. I need to get a wet towel to calm her temperature down. Would you do that for me, please?”
Genesis thought she looked terrible, she was almost swaying on her feet and there were bags under her eyes.
“Sure. Where do I get water and the towel?”
She pushed a small pink towel into his free hand and pointed him in the direction of what he surmised was the guest bathroom.
“Just keep dabbing her body with it. I have to attend to Amber.”
He didn’t ask questions; instead, cradling the whimpering girl in his arms, he set to work.
He didn’t see her again for another thirty minutes, mostly because he was busy with the girl and he didn’t bother looking up to know her mother’s whereabouts.
“You’d be fine, honey,” he whispered, over again to the child. Sometimes he found himself muttering soothing words he couldn’t remember, words whose origin he couldn’t fathom.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Abbey’s voice startled him from behind.
“It’s better than before,” he replied, touching the girl’s neck.
“Okay. I need to give her Paracetamol. Give her to me.”
“You can’t handle any more tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll carry her.” With that he lifted the child and carried her back to the living room.
He laid her on the couch, placing the damp towel on her forehead.
“Which one are you?” he asked, hoping to get her to talk.
She sniffed, blinking. “Augusta,” her voice cracked with unshed tears.
“Beautiful name for a princess. Augusta, you will stop crying now, okay? By tomorrow morning, you would be up and running, promise.”
Her nod was barely visible.
Abbey knelt beside him, touching her fingertips to her daughter’s face.
“Star baby, mummy’s gonna give you your drugs now and then pray for you. And then you’re gonna sleep and wake up tomorrow, good as new, okay?”
Genesis glanced at her, admiring the cheerfulness and hope in her voice. One he was sure she didn’t feel.
“Mummy…I’m afraid,” her voice was small as she spoke.
“Oh my baby, afraid of what?” Abbey was sitting now, a tremor in her voice.
“What if…what if…I don’t wake up tomorrow?”
The sheer simplicity of her question tore at Genesis heart and without thinking he said;
“Of course you will wake up tomorrow. Or don’t you want to see my handsome face again? Remember I promised you a treat when you get well?”
His heart warmed at the semi-smile that formed at the corner of her mouth.
“Okay…but my sister will come with us too.” She said, still in her soft voice.
“Deal.” He gave her a small tap on her hand.
*******

The next time he checked the clock, it was half past midnight and that was when he had the opportunity to actually settle down with Abbey.
After administering her meds, Star had drifted to sleep almost immediately but Amber had needed more attention because she had been having difficulty breathing all night as a result of her asthma.
After some struggle, she had finally drifted to sleep and Genesis had helped tuck both girls in.
It was when he and Abbey both slumped on the couch in the living room that he realised how much time had gone by.
“You don’t know what you’ve done for me, Genesis,” Abbey began, running her fingers through her weave. “I owe you big.”
She looked tired, like she had just been through a marathon. Despite the chilly air in the living room, she still had beads of sweat formed on her nose. It was then he noticed she was still fully dressed in one of her customary turtle necks.
“You should take a cold bathe. Your temperature was a bit on the high side when I came in,” he said. It occurred to him that there was nothing suggestive about his suggestion. It was something he would say to an old friend. The thought of it made him smile inwardly.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” she said.
“At least get rid of the turtleneck,” he said. “We don’t want you sick too.”
“Genesis, I said I’m fine, okay?” she snapped.
He nodded, standing. “I think I’ll take my leave now, ma’am.”
She shuffled to her feet too, her hand reaching out to touch him. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit strung out. You’ve really been a God-send. It’s late, you should stay…”
Under different circumstances, Genesis would not have hesitated to take her up on her offer, but it crossed his mind that she was probably asking out of courtesy, not because she really wanted him there. After all, she had used him, what more did she need him for?

And so he shook his head.
“I should leave.” He didn’t wait for her to protest; instead he took long strides to the door, closing it softly behind him, he let the darkness embrace him.
To Be Continued…
Mimi A.

The Club Of God-Fearing Men – 9

If she found his suggestion strange, her face didn’t give it away. In fact she glossed over it in a manner that suggested she had warded off many an unwanted proposition without blinking an eye.
She chuckled lightly, saying; ‘I know this new place in Ikeja. Because it’s new, there aren’t so many people flooding it yet, so I think it’d be great if we take advantage of the serenity for this week at least. We can come up with something better later, yeah?”
Genesis was also an expert at hiding disappointment, so his response was a cross between cheerful and reserved. Too much of everything was no good; if he responded in an overly cheerful manner, she would know he was faking it.
He felt he had underestimated her. Just because she was small and playful didn’t mean she was stupid, he decided.
And when have you ever settled for stupid? A voice reminded him at the back of his mind. What he loved, was a challenge. So, dear Lola, be it inside the church or on the top of Mount Everest while fasting sef, I shall have my way when I’m ready.
Their plans were final. Friday by five-thirty, they would meet for their first Salvation class.
It was odd that by the time Genesis was waving her goodbye, he realised he was strangely looking forward to it.
That night, while he prepared for the new week; he found himself thinking about Abbey. It was unexpected because he hadn’t seen her since that night at the club and apart from the brief nostalgia he felt when he was in Grace Assembly earlier that day; she hadn’t entered his thoughts again.
What was it about her that made her pop up in his thoughts now and again? It couldn’t be physical beauty, because he had met many gorgeous women in his day.
In fact, he had once been literally blinded by a particular lady’s beauty. He could hardly look at her without blinking. Staring at her was difficult for him because hers was the kind of beauty that made you question everything, that made you wonder how God could claim to love everyone equally and end up bringing out the ‘fearfully made’ in some people and the ‘wonderfully made’ in others.
So no, it definitely wasn’t beauty that drew him to Abbey.
In his short playboy life, he had come to accept the fact that on some counts the Bible is right. Physical beauty is indeed vain. It is unnecessary in some cases. Only a shallow man, one who didn’t really understand life, would place physical beauty above all else when looking for a woman or a wife.
He had seen many ‘ugly’ of women end up with the most unexpected caliber of men. One time, a classmate of his had introduced him to his fiancée, a lady who had lost her left leg in an accident and had a metal prosthesis in its place.
When she walked, there was clumsiness in her steps that put Genesis off when he first met her. He avoided looking at her legs or in her face, afraid that she would see the irritation in his eyes or the question – why had his friend not picked someone better?
He didn’t really get to know her until his friend married her and moved to Oyo State for his new job. Something happened later that year that caused Genesis to bunk with them for a week. By the time he was leaving their house; he had nothing but praises for Nnedinma. Whenever he looked at her, he forgot about her disability and saw the beauty his friend had seen. And it shamed him that he hadn’t looked beyond the metal to see the human being with a beautiful heart.
Maybe he was doing the same with Abbey. He was refusing to see beyond the fact that she was a widow and had children. He was refusing to see that beyond that, she was human and could have something more to offer.
He sighed, turning in bed.
His friends usually accused him of overthinking things.
If they saw him now and heard his thoughts, they would remind him that this was all a game. Get in, get out and it was over. Besides who wants a woman with baggage? They were not supposed to get emotionally attached with their spirikoko conquests; they were not supposed to look at them as human beings with feelings. No, they were just conquests, pawns. And this was a game.
Just a game, Gen.
He needed to remind himself that. He needed to get his head straight and focus on nailing the smart, sexy Lola Ajibade.
But before then, he had to figure out what it was about Abbey that he couldn’t get out of his head. And maybe when he did, he could get her out of his head and focus on giving sweet Lola some salvation classes.
He roused himself from bed and began to search his trouser pockets, sure he would stumble across her card.
It was 10:54pm when he found it. Tucked somewhere between the pages of a newspaper. He must have slipped it there for safekeeping.
Way to go Gen.
And he thought he had disposed of it long ago.
He hadn’t looked at the card very well when she gave it to him because he hadn’t cared, after discovering she was a mother. But now he looked.
The card was a deep blue colour with her name embossed on it.
Abigael Olaitan.

Manager
Her number was written in small block letters at the edge.
Genesis glanced at the pearl-shaped clock hanging from his wall. It was exactly eleven o clock. It was too late to call anybody, especially someone who was practically a stranger to you.
Maybe it was the pressing need to get her off his mind that overshadowed all reasoning, or maybe it was something more profound that caused him to disregard his rational mind and make the call.
He dialed.

To Be Continued…

MIMI. A

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 – 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.

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.