The story continues...

The worship session was now frenzied. Some persons were not only swaying, but also shedding tears. Many were 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.

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I nodded in agreement, though I didn’t quite get her point. ‘Please, elaborate.’ I said, remembering that she would be studying political science.

‘Please, there’s no time for that. Most times we waste precious time starting what we can’t finish. It could be due to fear or just impatience, but we end up raising resistant strongholds, only to abandon them at the brink of accomplishment.’ She looked at my face and, seeing the bewilderment there, added with a smile: ‘Science student, go and read up the policy of passive resistance as applied by Gandhi and Mandela.’



I wasn’t going to take up the advice, I knew already. We were now by the roadside. I cleared my throat, aware of the rising tempo of my heartbeats. ‘Magdalene, when next would we be seeing?’

‘I don’t know,’ she replied indifferently. ‘Maybe when we get back to school.’

‘When will that be?’ I asked, unhappy at her attitude. She was already proving herself a hard nut. I wasn’t one to give in easily.


‘I think that should be about two weeks hence.’
‘I can’t bear that,’ I blurted out, ‘spare me the torture.’

She laughed and fixed me an intent stare. ‘I know, if asked, you would claim to have fallen in love with me, but…that’s simply untrue…’

‘Why would you say so?’ I demanded, making no attempt to deny her charge. Her response was a ringing laugh. ‘Okay, can I have your number?’

‘I don’t think so,’ she replied and clutched her phone tighter. Did she think I would attempt to snatch it from her?

‘Why?’ I asked, my voice a mixture of anger and emotions. ‘Why are you acting like we are strangers?’

‘Well, let me be frank; I don’t give out my number anyhow. I am very sorry about that.’

‘But you gave your number to the guy who called you earlier on,’ I accused, my voice surprisingly hoarse. I didn’t know why I was losing my cool.

‘He’s my brother in Christ,’ she said curtly.

‘And I am your enemy in Christ?’ My question only drew more laughter from her. I watched with some disgust, but was determined to follow through with my plans.

‘Okay, let’s have it this way, bro,’ she quipped, ‘I will give you my number after our church service on Sunday. Will you be there?’

The proposal sounded good. It sounded easy but equally challenging. I knew she was giving me that condition because of my earlier confession about not attending any church. I hadn’t stepped my feet in any church for about ten years! I thought it over for some seconds before replying in the affirmative. She gave me directions on how to locate the address and flagged down a cab.
Just as the cab moved away with her, my phone rang. It was Sonia, one of my girlfriends. The call had come at just the right time, I noted with relief. She would have been a killjoy had her call come through a minute earlier. I thumbed the answer key and lifted the phone to my ear.

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‘Hello, good afternoon,’ she greeted the person at the other end. The caller was enquiring about her whereabouts, how the journey was going and what time she hoped to get home. These I deduced from the replies she gave. From their tone, I knew it was a guy and I felt jealousy stir within me.

‘Who was that?’ I asked when they had ended their conversation.

‘A friend,’ she replied, smiling dreamily. ‘I met him during registrations – a very funny guy.’

‘Okay,’ I said and looked away. After some seconds, I turned to look at her and she was still wearing that faraway dreamy smile. ‘What’s getting you so excited, suddenly?’ I asked.



‘You won’t get it,’ she replied. ‘So, I won’t bother telling you.’

‘Okay, you may suit yourself,’ I said civilly. I was losing control of my emotions. I knew I was, but couldn’t help it.

I wasn’t a novice anymore when it came to the womenfolk. Due to my social activities, I was constantly exposed to them, and I had indulged in quite a number of flings with them. I had two steady girlfriends, each suspecting the other of having an affair with me, but my sleek tongue and firm self-control had always ensured that their suspicions never got confirmed. And now, I was falling in love with my childhood friend… Was it really love, I asked myself, or just lust. It could be mere jealousy, but why was I being jealous in the first place?

‘Why are you being dramatic?’ She suddenly asked, catching me unawares.

‘What…? Am I?’ I stuttered, composing myself.

‘Yes, you are,’ she boldly insisted.
‘You are acting like an insecure boyfriend. Is there any problem?’

‘Yes…and no,’ I replied, then smiled mischievously. ‘You won’t get it, so I won’t bother telling you.’ I used the exact words she had earlier used.

‘If you insist,’ she said and started playing with her phone.

I wanted to apologize but decided against it. I didn’t want to appear too weak – not to the little Magdalene Okegbu of those days.

The driver brought the car to a halt when we got to the first park in the city and announced to us that he won’t be going beyond that point. Some passengers angrily exchanged words with him, but it didn’t change the situation. I would have joined in hurling invectives at him, but for Magdalene's presence. And she he was already removing her luggage from the boot, which the driver had first opened, even before opening the doors!

‘But you know the driver isn’t right,’ I told her as I removed mine too. ‘He is only taking us for a ride.’ I tried unsuccessfully to hide the bitterness in my voice.

‘Arguing with him won’t change the situation,’ she said in a light tone, ‘especially when decisive action won’t be taken.’

I nodded in agreement, though I didn’t quite get her point. ‘Please, elaborate.’ I said, remembering that she would be studying political science.

To be continued...

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