THE CHURCH

Part 1- Cunni-lingus and those disciples of sin.

The Church was beginning to grow quiet as the drummer put his sticks away. The pastor approached the pulpit looking quite dapper in his lime green shirt and brown Khaki pants. The rustling sound of paper could be heard as the faithful cooled themselves in spite of the wheezing age old air conditioner that rattled out dry air. The praise session had been a rigorous one. We had twisted our bodies and stamped our feet, egged on by the slim built lead chorister who belted out a gospel song based on the famous dance of king David of old Israel. No one wanted the curse of Micah.

Finally the noise died down completely and as if on cue, the pastor lifted his eyes from the big black Bible spread on the lectern.

“Today, the Holy Spirit asked me to preach to the youths of this Church.” A grave expression clouded his usually open and friendly face. He looked towards the direction where I sat with a dozen other lip stick smacked students who were doing their best not to be the subject of a Holy Spirit induced sermon with heavily lashed eyes and bright reds and pinks on their cheeks.

“Many young people in this Church engage in pre marital sex.” Again he looked at us, damning us before we had a chance to protest our innocence. “And not only do they engage in this sin, ” he continued, stepping down from the pulpit towards the aisle. “They have gone deep into the sin of cunni-lingus.” His face contorted with disgust.

“Cunni wetin?” A voice whispered beside me. I turned to stare into the pencil lined eyes of my friend. A thousand words flashed through my mind.

“I’ll tell you later.” I promised. I had a few colourful words to explain the subject of the day’s sermon but a fire breathing God was the last person I wanted to mess with.

“….These ignorant souls do not know that this practice originated from idol worshipping nations and is a snare to their souls.” The pastor’s voice rose to a battle cry and he pumped his fist and stamped his feet to explain the anger of God. I heard some shifting and looked to my right. Two young men in stiff looking shirts sat beside a middle aged woman with flower patterned dress and eyebrows that were drawn towards her forehead with the help of a black eye pencil. The woman nodded enthusiastically at the Pastor. She followed his every expression with perfection. Grimace for grimace. Head shake for head shake. Sigh for sigh.

Thirty minutes later, the sweat patches at the underarm of the pastor’s shirt meant he was spent. Finally, he sighed out his invitation to redemption.

“If there is anybody here who has been a victim of this evil spirit and would like to rededicate his or her life to God.” He looked around the Church, thankfully leaving out our lipstick section. “Please step forward.”

Ten seconds passed and the pastor stood alone with his microphone. Just when I thought the worst was over, somebody brushed past me. I looked up to see the handsome thirty something year old man I had passed on my way in. He walked towards the pastor and stopped. Then he made a slow U-turn and faced the congregation, backing the pastor. Then something strange happened. As if responding to a signal, more people poured into the aisle and approached the pulpit. I sat up in my chair in surprise. All the people standing less than ten inches away from me were all men.

“Tell me jor.” My friend insisted in a furious whisper, looking confused. “What is their sin?”

This time I didn’t hesitate. “Mouth action.” I wrote on my Sunday school note.

I watched my friend’s eyes grow round in surprise as she looked at the note I held out to her. Then she began to smile. I nudged her and blinked twice at her with a solemn expression. In our sign language that meant be serious! She ignored me and looked at the men before her with interest. I kicked her. She kicked me back. I gave up and began to listen to the pastor intercede for the men in front of the Church.

“Father!” The pastor began in a loud wail. My friend picked my note off my lap. I watched her scribble something with the pen between its pages. She passed the note back to me. I read with a straight face. "Honestly, this one is serious advertisement this pastor is doing o! I swear those guys are not repenting anything. They are showing themselves to the chicks in this Church. This pastor sef!"

I closed the note and exhaled slowly. The prayer had come to an end. One by one, the men filed past us. The handsome one. The first one who stepped to answer the alter call. Our eyes met and I could swear I saw him smirking. I quickly turned away from his eyes and focused on the pulpit. Now the pastor was singing, an expression of sweet release on his face. I looked at my friend. I wondered if she was right. The man of God had not won any new converts. He had just given the spotlight to very unrepentant disciples of sin who winked at the girls in his lipstick section.

From Umari Ayim's Facebook Page.

Rtfl. "What is the world turning into?!"

Seun:



“….These ignorant souls do not know that this practice originated from idol worshipping nations and is a snare to their souls.”

MAY GOD HELP US!

really interesting. When i was in the university, 100lv,Like when a Pastor called out some youths who were possesed with the spirit of fornication, come and see guys rushing to the altar to get 'delivered' or 'born again'. That very same day, it didnt take a lot of words for one of those guys to take me home, because i knew he's so sexually aware, dont give a damn about those altar calls. i get you Seun.