Finally set to continue... My apologies for the unofficial break in transmission; twas due to circumstances beyond my control...

... I thumbed the answer key and lifted the phone to my ear.
*********
The worship session was now frenzied. Some persons were not only swaying, but also shedding tears. Many were now on their knees and I could see two persons rolling on the floor. To my disappointment, one of them was Magdalene. She was making a mess of her uniform, her beautiful choir uniform.
Why her? I asked myself, fuming within. I had brought my camera, hoping to convince her to pose for one or two shots with me, but now… Was she so shameless? The church was almost filled to capacity, and she could afford to start rolling on the floor – in front of everyone! I hissed in disgust. No spirit, I reckoned in my mind, could make me lie on the floor. Not in front of such a large congregation.
Then, just as I was on the brink of honourably exiting the hostile gathering, they brought the worship session to a close. This time, a guy walked out to take the place of the lady who had been leading. He smiled proudly, running his eyes across the congregation. What was it with this people and pride? I asked myself.
‘Tell your neighbour it’s time to praise the Lord,’ he boomed, his voice deep and well groomed. I felt some envy. A guy walked up to me and did as the song leader had instructed. I muttered some gibberish in response. ‘If your neighbour ain’t clear and sure enough, move to someone else and make the declaration…’ I noticed that even the pastors were moving obediently. Self-deceit – that was my impression of the whole scenario.
My neighbour had left me, for this time, I heard a female voice. I was surprised to look into Magdalene’s face. I was surprised to see no speck of dust on her; she didn’t look like one who had been rolling on the floor some moments earlier. Then I looked at the choir stall and saw, for the first time, the red plush rug laid on the floor. It was still new, I observed, and appeared well maintained.
‘Hi,’ I told her and smiled.
‘That wasn’t the instruction,’ she whispered. ‘Well, hope you are enjoying the service?’
I nodded in the affirmative, wondering why I had to lie. I wasn’t enjoying any service. It was a far cry from the fun the clubs provided. It was devoid of the heavy and fast paced music, the body-intertwining dances and brain warming booze we enjoyed in our parties. I wasn’t enjoying the service.
‘Good, I will see you when we close,’ she said next and went back to the choir stall while I looked on stupidly.
I would have said something; I would have told her that I might not be able to stay till the end of the service. I would have cooked up a convincing lie to get her to give me her number, but I didn’t.
The song leader raised a popular song and in a short time the whole congregation was in ecstasy. Gradually, the pace picked up; so much that it felt like the parties. I could see many dance steps that I thought would be taboo in a church being performed with reckless abandon. Everyone seemed to want to outdo the other – even amongst the choristers. I smiled; feeling entertained for the first time, but still couldn’t join in. I wasn’t sure if it was shyness, as I was never shy in our parties, but I felt indisposed to strutting my stuff in front of such a congregation. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and marched out to receive the call. The usher who had led me to my seat initially was still at the entrance door. She smiled and bowed low as I walked past her, a gesture I reciprocated. She was becoming more beautiful with every passing moment, I noticed, and I was almost tempted to request for her number too. I made mental comparisons of her physique with Magdalene’s but couldn’t adjudge any superior. They were both endowed, in their own ways, and I thought they would make good lays. I mentally checked myself for contemplating such things in church, but didn’t really care anyway.

More in the evening...thanks.

I was disappointed to discover, on removing the phone from my pocket, that it wasn’t a call but a text message, and wasn’t even from someone worthwhile but from the network providers, advertising useless subscriptions. I decided against going back inside immediately, instead opting to enjoy the fresh air for some time. I was still there when the pretty usher came out. She looked around and was about to move back inside when I called her. It was an opportunity I couldn’t allow to slip.
‘Excuse me, please,’ I said in a deliberately groomed tone.
‘Yes,’ she replied in her sweet voice, ‘what can I do for you?’
She was going to make a very good receptionist, I observed. ‘I would love to use the loo, please, where is it?’
‘Oh,’ she suppressed a smile, ‘follow me.’ And she led me to a building behind the church. ‘The first five rooms are reserved for females while the remaining five are for the males,’ she explained when the signs were clear for any user to read.
‘Thanks, dear,’ I said with a broad smile, ‘you’ve just saved a dying soul.’ I had no intention of using the loo.
She chuckled, revealing a very fine set of dentition. ‘Thanks for the flattery.’
‘I don’t flatter,’ I stated. ‘Please, what is the name?’
‘Charity,’ she replied and made to leave.
‘That’s a beautiful name,’ I said in a bid to delay her a bit, ‘it’s just like Peace, Joy, Love, Faith, etc. I might need your help again, how do I contact you?’
‘Just inform any usher close to you that you want Charity,’ she said.
‘That’s too bureaucratic for my liking. How about your number so I can easily call you?’ I tried, wearing an innocent smile.
‘There won’t be any need for that,’ she said conclusively, ‘we don’t switch on our phones until the end of the service – and if you may excuse me…’
I watched her walk away, feeling very stupid. I knew I had made a gaffe but was comforted by the fact that I was newcomer. She would likely dismiss me as a misguided individual who needed Christ, and that would end it. With that thought in mind, I went back into the church. Charity was no longer in her usual position, though a quick scan found her at the extreme left, moving towards the ministers’ section. I dismissed her and went to my seat.
The song leader was still at it, making my exit and return virtually unnoticed. I dropped my phone beside my camera on my seat. Without a bible, they were the only companions I had come to church with. The congregation was still animated. A sudden glance at the ministers’ section showed Charity speaking to a pastor. I was about to look away when both of them raised their eyes, to look in my direction. It wasn’t just in my direction, but directly at me. I wondered what they could be discussing about me. Was it that I was a new member? Then they would be completely mistaken for I wasn’t planning on stepping my feet in their church another day. All I needed was Magdalene’s number and I would be done with them.
The song leader was done and was greeted with deafening applause. I wondered whom the applause was meant for; the singer or God himself? A female pastor was next on stage, commencing another round of prayers. From the corner of my eyes, I saw the pastor Charity had been speaking to a moment earlier go to Pastor Obazu and whisper something in his ear. Together, they went out, through the door beside the altar. They were back after a few minutes. The woman was rounding off the prayers now – much to my joy. She had been too dull for my liking, drawling every word in her funny, slanted accent. She handed the microphone to Pastor Josiah Obazu, whom I thought would announce the next item on their service program. How mistaken I was!

Welcome back dear. But u suppose to take bible to church na

Aipete2: Welcome back dear. But u suppose to take bible to church na

Abi? I'll seriously consider that next time...
Aside I be done dey wonder O...as nobody gree comment since yesterday. Was contemplating stopping the story...

Ohibenemma:
Abi? I'll seriously consider that next time...
Aside I be done dey wonder O...as nobody gree comment since yesterday. Was contemplating stopping the story...

Plz dont stop it joor oh

Aipete2: Plz dont stop it joor oh

I won't O! Hate starting what I won't finish...
Btw, this your signature no be here O! God na "hit squad"?

... How mistaken I was!
‘Some people come to the house of God to be saved,’ he began, ‘but others come there to destroy others…’ Some members of the congregations nodded and muttered affirmatively, as if they had been asked a question. Gullible and myopic ignoramuses! ‘…but the bible has told us that upon Mount Zion shall be deliverance and holiness. Anybody who is not here for Jesus will be delivered today in Jesus’ name…’
‘Amen!’ the congregation chorused. How silly these people could be.
‘I said they will be delivered in Jesus’ name!’
‘Amen!’
He repeated the statement two more times, the congregational response getting louder after each, before pointing in my direction. ‘You, come out.’
I looked beside and behind me to see who he was referring to, but discovered that other eyes were trained on me. I was surprised; what need of me did he have? Some ushers were already approaching me. Why would they? I pondered; did I look like a criminal? Someone behind advised me to move forward, but I obstinately remained where I was. I wasn’t even sure yet if the pastor was referring to me.
Pastor Obazu asked for his big bible, which was taken to him by a young pastor and he started reading a passage from the book of psalms. Every sentence was punctuated with shouts of ‘amen’ from the congregation.
‘Pastor says you should move forward,’ a voice suddenly sounded behind me. I turned around with a start, to see a grim faced, six-footer usher, directing me forward. Two others were already beside him.
Was this a dream? I asked myself. Was this what the churches have become after my ten years absence? I glanced at the choir department and saw Magdalene urging me on with her eyes. It was ridiculous, I thought, but had no audience.
‘It’s okay,’ I said, ‘must you be dramatic about this?’ I marched forward, with the three macho ushers closely behind.
Now closer to Pastor Obazu, I discovered that he was a six-footer too. His expansive chest was obvious, even through the beautiful, well designed double-breasted suit he was donning. His sharply cut jaws and high cheekbones gave him a fearsome appearance from close range. I decided it would be in my best interest to cooperate.
‘What is your mission here today?’ He boomed into the microphone.
Before I could muster an answer, a microphone had already been held to my mouth. It was by one of the macho ushers. ‘I…I don’t understand,’ I stuttered.
He smiled as if he was expecting such an answer. Then, as if in response to a remote control, he suddenly frowned.
‘You don’t seem to understand me,’ sounded the baritone voice. ‘Scriptures tell us that you shall know the truth and it shall set you free…halleluyah! Do you even want to be set free?’
I wanted to reply in the negative, but after a glance at the stern looking guards graciously assigned to me, I nodded.
‘Say it with your mouth,’ he urged, ‘scriptures say that with the mouth, confession is made unto salvation…halleluyah!’
‘Yes,’ I replied, yet surprised by the resonance from the speakers on the altar. I was embarrassed by the applause from the audience.
‘Yes,’ said Pastor Obazu, ‘yes, even heaven rejoices when a sinner returns to his God. Give the Lord a big clap offering!’ this time the applause was accompanied with hoots and shrieks.
I felt like one in a bad dream and prayed to wake up quickly. God didn’t seem to be listening.
‘If the people who are called by my name shall humble themselves and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their evil ways; then will I hear them from heaven and forgive their sins and heal their land. God wants to set you free, but not in your cockiness… halleluyah! God wants you to humbly confess your sins before his congregation. Will you do so now? Will you obey God’s voice?’
A glance at my bodyguards and I nodded. I didn’t even know what I was expected to confess about. The microphone was held to my mouth again, but I didn’t know what to say. Now, I was already sweating. I slowly dug my hands into my pockets, going from one to the other until I found my handkerchief. I did it slowly so my bodyguards wouldn’t misinterpret my intentions. I was raising the handkerchief to my face when Pastor Obazu spoke, halting my hand midway.
‘Confess your sins, brother, tell the house of God what brought you to this place today.’
The thoughts flowed in, from the point of my meeting Magdalene in the cab to the point where I requested for her number. How could the pastor expect me to narrate such before the entire congregation? Was the church a courthouse? My eyes caught the inscription on the sticker pasted in front of the lectern, GOD ALONE SAVES SINNERS, and I smiled. The sticker clearly stated that the business of saving sinners was God’s only. Only God! Why were they assisting God in the business? Why were they trying to coerce confession from me when they were not God? Why? One of the machos behind me coughed, as if to remind me of their presence.
I cleared my throat slightly and spoke into the microphone: ‘I was invited by a friend…’ I wanted to say more, but decided that I had said enough.
‘My friend, do you know what led to the death of Ananias and Sapphira? Do you know? Because they lied to the servant of God. I won’t want same fate to befall you, but it all depends on you. Do you want to experience what they experienced?’
‘No.’
‘Then I would advice you started talking.’
I was thinking hard, wondering how to get off my dilemma, but couldn’t arrive at any reasonable solution. Maybe a little lie could get me off the hook, but my brain was blank. And there was the possibility of Magdalene refuting my claims, which would make an already bad situation worse. I wasn’t scared of the Ananias and Sapphira story; I was ready to lie and lie again if the need arose, but my brain was blank that moment. I wanted to look at the choir section, maybe a glance at Magdalene could provide the much needed inspiration, but I didn’t want to give myself away with such a gesture. I sighed and mopped my forehead again. My handkerchief was getting soaked.
‘You cannot leave this place same way you came. I won’t allow it, we won’t allow it. Isn’t that right?’ He asked the congregation. They chorused affirmatively. ‘My friend, what is the name of the person who invited you?’

MissMalia, Flakkydagirl, 123gist, JOETYNO, Marynneka and co, where is una dey?

Ohibenemma: MissMalia, Flakkydagirl, 123gist, JOETYNO, Marynneka and co, where is una dey?

*sighing heavily...I had 2 run in...ride on oP,I dey ya back lyk IKE

MissMalia: *sighing heavily...I had 2 run in...ride on oP,I dey ya back lyk IKE

Thou art welcome, please take a seat.

Ohibenemma: MissMalia, Flakkydagirl, 123gist, JOETYNO, Marynneka and co, where is una dey?

see me here o my dear

I looked in the direction of the choir and caught the eyes of Magdalene. They were expressionless. I wasn’t sure if she would approve of me mentioning her name. She turned from me to face the front row of seats and my eyes followed her line of sight to rest upon her parents. Deacon Okegbu, like my dad, was now bald. His wife was still as young and pretty as ever. I was sure Magdalene must have inherited her genes. My guards were still at their vicious best, looking like they were impatient for orders to descend upon me.
‘Magdalene,’ I said. The microphone holder was quick to raise it to my lips once again.
‘Put your hands together for Jesus!’ He called and the congregation responded with glad applause. I wondered what special thing I had done or said to warrant their excitement.
‘Scriptures tell us that if you be willing and obedient, you will eat the good of the land… I can see that you are willing, but you are clearly not obedient. Saint Paul said that the things he wanted to do were not the things he found himself doing. Are you not finding yourself in same situation today, brother, are you not?’
‘The microphone was immediately pushed up to my lips in readiness for my response. ‘Yes,’ I replied, deciding to play his game. Once again the congregation went up in applause.
‘God never lies,’ Pastor Obazu stated. Why was he so bent on twisting the truth? I pondered. Was he claiming his wild guesses to be divine revelations?
I saw Charity go to the young pastor again and whisper into his ears. He smiled, shook the small head resting on his long neck and looked in my direction, before she withdrew.
‘The devil wanted to use you mightily today, but the spirit of God raised a standard against you. That you wanted to cause one of my daughters to fall wasn’t enough, but you went further to try your fangs on a pastor’s wife. Today, every demonic stronghold in your life will be broken in Jesus’ name…’
‘Amen!’ The congregation responded.
I was shocked. So this was all about Charity. So she was a pastor’s wife – most likely the young man she had been going to meet. How was I to know that she was married when she looked every inch a single and beautiful lady?
‘Fine, I spoke with them,’ I said, now disgusted. ‘But, how does that warrant this humiliation?’ I was shouting despite the microphone on my lips. It was like a last resort.
‘Now, he’s confessing,’ said Pastor Obazu with a grin which almost instantly disappeared from his face. He stepped down from the pulpit to where I stood and started speaking in tongues. I stared at him in defiance, not buying the jargons he was mouthing. He was actually twisting, slanting and accenting the same words over and over again. I wasn’t deceived anymore. ‘Now, you will be delivered,’ he declared and I could hear the congregation start praying too. I turned around to see that they were all on their feet, hurling prayers in my direction. Suddenly, I felt something hit my head. It was the pastor’s big hand as he forcefully placed his palm on my head. He shouted loudly and commanded the spirit of lust out of me. I didn’t feel anything. I expected to feel something. The heavy palm came upon my head again, this time with greater force. It caused me to stagger backwards, at which the ushers propped me up with their powerful hands. I felt something this time – a sharp headache.
Someone collected the microphone from Pastor Obazu, who grabbed my head with his two hands. He gradually applied pressure, pushing back my head slowly, but I resisted vehemently. I fought back like a wounded lion, twisting my head of his hold and disallowing him from getting another grip. After unsuccessfully trying to get back his grip, he ordered the ushers to hold me down. The congregation prayed with even more vigour now. They must have thought the demons at work, in me, were too powerful. Were they so blind, I asked myself, were they so blind as to fail to see the blatant rape on my fundamental human rights? They had been waiting for such an order; the zombies had been waiting for the moment when they would apply brute force on me. In split seconds, I felt strong hands grab my arms. They made sure that I couldn’t move my body. I tried to struggle, throwing out powerful kicks with my legs, but they were soon them clamped together by firm hands. The congregation continued praying with vigour, while I swore furiously at everyone.
‘Thou spirit of violence, come out of him now!’ Pastor Obazu decreed.

Chai, this story is making me go wow.

Lolz

Storeburn: Chai, this story is making me go wow.

Big thanks; glad you like it. Have you. Checked "Online Lover"? It's on my signature.
Hope to finish this today...

Why nairaland come dey change my *ASSAULTx to MOLEST nau?

Ohibenemma:
Big thanks; glad you like it. Have you. Checked "Online Lover"? It's on my signature.
Hope to finish this today...

do you think i will carry last on that? I followed that thread to the end just that 'i chop and clean mouth' but that's by-gone, am waiting for this till it ends.

Storeburn: do you think i will carry last on that? I followed that thread to the end just that 'i chop and clean mouth' but that's by-gone, am waiting for this till it ends.

Lollingggg...now, the final update...

...‘Amen!’ The congregation responded. It soon became a toggle between commands by their pastor and Amens from the congregation.
I didn’t feel anything anymore, not even the headache. All I wanted was to break free of the captivity I was being held in. Soon, I realised the futility of my efforts to forcefully secure my release from my captors and relaxed. I was now on the floor, lying on the red rug I had despised Magdalene for lying upon earlier. I tried to beg my captors with my eyes, but they didn’t seem in a mood for mercy. None even seemed to be aware of my teary eyes; all of their focus was on their huge pastor, who was now sweating profusely from his futile exertion.
Seeing my sudden calmness, Pastor Obazu mellowed in the verve of his prayers. Probably, he thought the evil spirits had departed. One of my arms was twisted at an awkward angle, but I refrained from attempting to straighten it, choosing instead to endure the pain. I didn’t want to start the whole process all over again as I was already fagged out. From my squinted eyes, I watched as Pastor Obazu signalled the ushers to release me. Then he asked the congregation to thank God who had revealed the plans of the demonic forces which were at work through me. Then he called for songs of thanksgiving, from the choir, to God for my complete deliverance. I laughed in my mind, wondering who was deceiving who. I still felt nothing, except for the humiliation, embarrassment and pain Pastor Josiah Obazu had subjected me to. Then I felt anger – anger at the pastor who had made me go through so much humiliation, anger at the ushers who had been too eager to assist in the act and anger at the two ladies who had instigated the whole process in the first place. I felt hate for them – hate for Charity who was tempting enough to mask her marital status, and who had gone on to get her pastor-husband on my tail and hate for Magdalene, who had made me break my ten years stint off the churches. In fact, I felt hate towards all ladies! Was it the deliverance already working, I wondered. Why would I hate all ladies?
The ushers lifted me back to my feet, amidst wild applause from the congregation. Those ushers! I was going to get back at them. Even Pastor Obazu and that long necked husband of Charity.
‘You are free,’ declared Pastor Obazu to wilder applause, ‘go and sin no more.’
Groggily, I lumbered to my seat. I would have preferred to go out for fresh air, but how was I sure such a move won’t be dramatically suppressed by the overzealous doorkeepers? On my seat were my two helpless companions, who had failed to render any assistance during my ordeal in the hands of the pastor and his cohort ushers – my phone and camera.
THE END

Hmm, i must say, this is a masterpiece, i pictured the whole delieverance scene in my mind to that i always watch on TV and i could just do anything but to laugh.. Great story i must say.

So, have you given your life to christ?

Storeburn: Hmm, i must say, this is a masterpiece, i pictured the whole delieverance scene in my mind to that i always watch on TV and i could just do anything but to laugh.. Great story i must say.

Thanks...glad you likeD it...

Aipete2: So, have you given your life to christ?

He will answer you when he finds the time...

Ds church people sef,4 d pastor mind him dey c vission#

Ohibenemma:
He will answer you when he finds the time...

Lolz

Marynneka: see me here o my dear

Boss I don show back ooo

Ohibenemma: MissMalia, Flakkydagirl, 123gist, JOETYNO, Marynneka and co, where is una dey?

Sowie Boss, was late due to sch stuffs!!

Wow!!!! That's all I could say bro! Nice one

What a great delivery ! I love the story. You made my day.

JOETYNO: Wow!!!! That's all I could say bro! Nice one

Big thanks, bro. Glad you like it.