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.

Sunday Tonic- Acceptance (Just For Laughs)

I don’t know about you but there are times I wish I could take some ‘adults’, lay them across my knees and beat the living shit out of them. I know how that feels, not to be able to take out your frustration on the perpetrator. If you attack a grown man like that so-called Pastor Konga, people will call you a tout or a thug, they will start quoting things like ‘touch not my anointed blah blah blah’. They will not want to understand that the idiot provoked it the moment he started peddling false gospel like telling wives to cut down on sex with their husband. That is how some of these men of God will leave the main thing that God sent them to preach and come and be interfering in people’s matrimonial lives. Who asked that one for advice now? Anyway, it is why I like to look well at all these ‘men of God’ before attending their churches because you don’t know the spirit that one is carrying. Some of them will be bored and broke, they will rush and open a ‘gathering’ and call it church. If to say God dey wicked, thunder go just dey strike all of them one by one.
Now see my naïve bootilicious wife; now I know she’s never been the brightest bulb in the department…eh, yes I know, don’t crucify me because I said it out loud.
How you wan make my wife con sabi suntin pass me? But kai, maybe if she knows book just small, she will know that this Pastor Konga.com is using her head.
This woman, let me not remind her of how when we first married, sex used to sweet her like suya. Every time she will come and give me that look she knows I cannot resist, indirectly communicating that she wants some. Now she is forming sister Holy-Pass-God when even God did not say such a thing. Which one be Sabbath day again biko? And that hogwash about Sunday being too holy to have sex, where the Bible tok that kain thing?
Wait sef, is that Pastor Konga.com married sef? I am sure if he’s married, he is not obeying all these stupid rules he’s giving his members. People like them na im like to do pass and they will now be spoiling other people’s runs, pouring san-san in other people’s garri. Okay na. I will show him and my wife. She will be the one that will come and beg me to sleep with her. Yes!

Shey it has been three weeks since she made that her announcement? Since that time she started sleeping with jean trouser as if that one will stop us if we want to do anything. She has forgotten that time that we were courting that she wore all that turtleneck sweater and jeans trouser with leggings under to prevent ‘sin’, kai…but I be bad boy sha. By the time I was ready for her, the leggings and trouser disappeared like no man’s business. So she all of people should know that that one no be obstruction. If I want it, I get it. And it will not be called rape.
It is only on Thursdays she used to wear her nightie that she knows I like. So this woman now did mental timetable and picked Thursday as the day she wants to be having sex. What does she take me for, anyway? She thinks I’m a dog that cannot do without bone, then she will toss me a bone every once in a while and I’m expected to jump at it? I will just surprise her

So after her revelation I did not say anything again. I just laughed, believing when the time comes she will come around. I know one thing my wife hates, is the silent treatment so that’s what I’ve been giving to her.
I will come back from work, take a shower, eat dinner and climb into bed without a word or even attempting to touch her. She will try to make conversation by asking me question but I kill the conversation with my monosyllabic answers.
When she climbs into bed beside me after an hour of ‘shababraking’ in the sitting room, I will peek and notice her pulling on her jean trouser. Okay, she still never learn lesson. Shey the Bible say, wives submit to your husbands and your body no longer belongs to you alone? My own wife is withholding from me what is mine in the name of Pastor Konga.com. The mere thought of it makes me angry especially since we had previously agreed that we will start trying to have children this year. How will one have children with once-a-week-Thursday sex?
So, for the past three weeks I did not touch my wife and my body feel am. The sexual tension was beginning to pile up in my body and literally make my heart palpitate. Since we got married, this was the longest we’d gone without sex (of any kind). During my travels, we always made sure we kept our sex life alive through the different ways which of course we all know. But this one was telling on me, and I saw it was telling on her too. It was not the idea of not having sex that was telling on her, but the fact that I wasn’t even trying to get her to sleep with me despite the one day a week allowance. I’m sure she was beginning to wonder if I was getting it elsewhere or if suddenly I was no longer attracted to her.
I was getting cranky with everyone around me. I soon had to confess to my guy Mezie what was happening in my home.
Know this, Mezie is thirty-four and single with three baby Mamas. Yes, that is how fertile and loose my friend is. Mezie is probably bad news to any of the male folk or even female folk but somehow, he’d found a place in my heart and he had an uncanny way of reading women seeing as he’s had many entanglements with them.
So, when I told Mezie my plight, the first thing he did was laugh.
“Guy, your madam dey craze ooh!” he said in between bouts of laughter.
“Shut up and give me better advice abeg.”
He did not shut up of course. He laughed till he was satisfied and then he said;
“You sure say that Pastor no dey knack am?”
“Eh?”
“Yes nah. Wetin you expect? You think say the Pastor tell all the members of im church say make dem no do? If I hear say the men for that church listen to am. Mtcheew. Na winch?”
Yes, Mezie had a point. Was that rule for only my wife and me or did the rest of the church listen to such nonsense too?
I realised I had to pay Pastor Konga.com a visit.

Mimi A. 2014

*****Dear readers, I really wanted to end it here. I really did. I promise I didn’t plan for an extra part of this story but somehow that mischievous part of me took over and voila! I promise the Part three should be the last part of this story. Just pray for me that my fingers will not develop a life of their own. Pray, brothers, pray!
Now, you know how we do it. We cannot read and laugh over this and not comment. I want to hear your wonderful thoughts, I really do. So kindly, kindly drop a comment for Pastor Konga and our M.C if you please. Thanks in advance for being such darlings!******

The Ugly Duckling-ess.

She’d been different from  birth. Even as a baby, her ugliness had been evident. The first words her mother had uttered on seeing her had been
“Tufiakwa”
No one called her cute or adorable, none of the women in church held out their hands to carry her.
Her eyes are too close together, her mother frequently whispered to her father.
As a child there had been no bond between her and her parents. Everyone thought she would shed her ugliness as she grew, it was not to be so. It remained a constant.
She watched her parents shower love on her other siblings, Odims the eldest was her mother’s sunshine, while Rebecca, the last born was the apple of her father’s eye. She was simply Mma.
It was as though her name was meant to be a slap on her face; like her parents had decided to pity her and give her a name that might change her looks as she grew.
She was nobody’s favourite. Nothing she did was impressive and even as a child of eight, she knew the difference between herself and her other siblings.
“Sometimes I wonder whether she came out of me,” she’d heard Mum say to Aunty Anulika one day.
“Are you sure nobody did juju for you?” Aunty Anulika giggled.
“Tah! That is not possible. Can’t you see Rebecca?”
“Rebecca is a carbon copy of you!”
“Thank God that one of my daughters is beautiful. At least marriage will not be a problem.”
Aunty Anu laughed in that mocking manner of hers, “You’re already talking marriage when she is just six years.”
Mma couldn’t wait to hear more; she ran to the back of the house and cried. Was it her fault she wasn’t pretty like other girls?
Once she had the knowledge that she was different from her brother and sister, she began to withdraw into herself. She hardly spoke to any of her parents because whatever she said, made no difference to them.
She noted how her father’s eyes lit up when Rebecca was crowned best dancer in school at twelve years and it hurt to think that only two weeks before, she’d told them about her being made leader of the maths club and her father’s response had been a grunt.
She noted also, how her mother showered praises on Odims when he came home with a distinctive WAEC result. Mma had followed him quietly to his room later.
“Congrats,” she said softly.
“Thank you Mma. It is not easy, when it’s your turn, you’ll make straight ‘A’s.”
She nodded. She didn’t want to tell him that she knew that he’d used ‘bullets’ during the exams.
When she came home two years later with her JAMB result of two-hundred-and-something, she didn’t show anyone. She went to the room she shared with Rebecca and locked herself in the toilet and flushed the result print out down the drain.
School had been hard for her. At sixteen she was as flat as an asphalt road, both front and back. She had become more aware of her looks now, and she saw why people called her ugly, why the boys at school never paid attention to her except to taunt her, why the girls never introduced her to their brothers and why her parents rarely introduced her as their daughter.
But why would people treat her differently because of her looks? She’d often ask herself. Were people that shallow?
All her life she’d been used to being ignored, and she didn’t expect any less when she informed her parents that she wanted to go to the Police academy.
Were they even fit to be called parents? She wondered, these strangers that she’d barely said five hundred words to, all her life.
“Why?” was what her father asked.
“Because I like it,” she replied stonily.
“Why not go to a proper university and become something in life?” her mother chirped.
Mma directed a freezing look her way, she’d come to loathe the woman who’d birthed her. Even if everyone laughed at her looks, not the woman who’d carried her for nine months.
“Something like what?” she  asked. They had no idea what she loved doing, nor what she wanted to be, how dare they give her advice?
“Your sister wants to become a fashion designer, that’s something.” Mum said.
No, my sister wants to become a shoe model, whatever that means. She wanted to say. She’d heard Rebecca talking about it with her friends one day.
“Rebecca is Rebecca and I am me. She’s only fifteen, what does she know?”
It must have been the steel in her voice that made her parents decide to let her be. She enrolled in the Police Academy.
Life there was totally different from the life she’d known. No one cared about your looks. The women there looked like her, not ugly but sturdily built. Her breasts were pert and tiny and fit in nicely into her uniform. When in the academy, she chose to forget where she was coming from, her parents rarely called. Only Odims did. He kept her up to date with his life, his new girlfriends, his new job.
It was in the Academy she met Alex who made her feeling of inferiority slowly fade away. Alex taught her to be comfortable with her body, with who she was.
It was Alex who introduced her to sex. It had been least expected, everything had happened in a rush; one minute they were talking and laughing, the next minute Alex was kissing her passionately.
It had been unexpected but welcoming, strange but relaxing. The feeling of danger gave rise to the intensity of their relationship. She couldn’t deny it, Alex made her whole. She was in love. A strange, forbidden kind of love. She wondered what her parents would think of her if they saw her now. Ugly Mma in love. She’d never thought it so.
The day her parents finally paid attention to her was when she took Alex home.
Her mother had nearly fainted when she introduced Alex as her lover.
“I knew you were a curse from day one, useless  child!” she screamed.
It was the first time she’d bothered to waste any emotion on her and it gave her a twisted satisfaction.
“That’s your problem Mum. Why should my love life bother you? You never really cared about me anyway.”
“You are sleeping with a woman and you’re talking nonsense! What will people say? My own daughter!” Dad spoke
She clutched Alex hand for support and stared at her parents, “Her name is Alexandra and I love her, take it or leave it.”
“I disown you! Tufiakwa! Lesbian! O kwa! In my house! You will not kill me. Get out now!” her mother screamed manically.
“I was never yours to disown anyway. Goodbye Mum, bye Dad.”
There was a spring in her step as she walked away from them.

WRITTEN BY MIMI A.