The Church At Crase 2

This is a continuation of my last story, The Church at Crase, if you haven't read it, you can do so now.

The Church at Crase 2

'So, Titilayomi, it was you who wanted me to rot in prison.' Baba Gin's laughter caught me off-guard, I had never been so scared in my life. It had to be because I was in his sitting room at the order of the proprietress who wanted me to apologize for my misconduct, which itself, I believed, was a misconducted judgment and a misconstruction of the truth.

My confidence mask had melted at the fierceness of my antagonist. I shook with fear, it was true, I wasn't so bold, I was just plainly adamant.

'No sir...' He wouldn't let me continue before cutting in again.

'What did you want then? That this old man should die by your hands? Isn't it?'

I didn't reply, not that there was something I wanted to say, I just wished to leave this place that reeked of all sort of things.

One fact I hated to admit was that it smelt like my house back from where I came, it smelt offensively of the past I thought I had left behind, the usual atmosphere of a brothel, the familiar odour of perfumes and scents trying to cover up the secrets of many previous nights, I was sick of it!

'I can see you're still young,' he went on, 'you have your years before you, you don't know how best to use it, that's why you're interested in this old man's business.' He moved away towards the window. 'Well, I may be wrong and you right, to an extent, maybe, or...'

At that instant, I wanted to hold one of his ears and make it clear that I was on the right and he was wrong! But, I didn't do that, instead, simply listened on.

He bluffed about how I was right and he was at fault. It was like a two-minutes thing before he ushered me out, offering some piece of advice on getting married, and an invite to converse with him again because he guessed we were of identical characteristics -- adamant, inflexible, and wounded by the world.

With a nod of my head, I apologized again, made my appreciation short, and almost ran outside to meet the teacher I had asked to accompany me.

The day ran so quickly that in no time, I was in church, having a conversation with pastor Gabriel shortly before the Bible study began.

He was no less a good man than I had envisaged him to be.

Our conversation was short, yet witty, and I laughed in that moment than I had done in days. As always, my questions were challenging, but he was one given to right judgments.

Towards the end of our engagement, the church came into light, and his replies wowed me.

He said, 'At first, I didn't know why God wanted me to be here. I simply obeyed, but now I seem to understand.' He filled, further arousing my curiosity until he continued.

'God brought me here to help get through these processes.'

'How?' I asked, and he felt challenged. I immediately came to his rescue, 'I mean, I long to see a change in this church as well... I wish I had my way, Yea, I want to do what I can.'

His kindness, I must confess, wasn't a mask, but a nature he couldn't rid himself of. It was that natural, spiritual, that I wondered how something could be natural and spiritual at the same time.

And, beyond that little talk about change, we embarked on the journey of change, together with his siblings and some praiseworthy church members.

Their lives challenged me, they didn't have perfect parents, they were not even the perfect children, but they turned out better than I had. I even learnt that pastor Gab had a nephew from his younger sister when she was in her late teens. His sister, now married to the choir master, was in charge of counseling and seeing to the wellbeing of children and teenagers in church. And, that, she was doing very well at.

It was then I made the decision to change the course of my life for good. I couldn't keep on living based on the results of my parents' unguided emotions, I had to find an anchor for myself in this world.

In no time, a lot of things took a new turn in the church at Crase, the various seminars and studies did a great thing in helping.

For example, there was Mr Toba who liked flaunting his children before the Abegundes family whose children were known to be quite slow and unbecomingly behind in intelligence.

Their slow wittedness used to be a truth until Elder Jose taught, in one of those mind-lifting seminars, that the Life of Christ was worth so much that it could make anyone better than they dared imagined. He said that that Life, which had become our 'Life' was powerful, and then all four children, in addition to their mother, who was considered the source of the children's misfortune, suddenly became better.

The Church at Crase had changed, the usual murmurings during sermons had gradually disappeared. Baba Gin made a public commitment to be serious about his faith, it was a funny one but inspiring as well, he even asked his son to say a prayer for him before the whole congregation which led more repentant members to the altar. I couldn't help the tears of joy that wanted to witness the rededication of believers' lives to God.

As for myself, I didn't seem to notice a change, I just knew I was becoming a different person day by day. Every hour. Minutes. Seconds mostly.

The goals I had set for myself before leaving home were indeed shortsighted. I laughed as I looked them through one more time before finally abandoning the sheet of paper in the bin.

In all of my life, there had really not been anyone I could refer to as a friend, I had shut the door of my heart away from everyone. It was evident, I didn't grow up a normal child, all the friends I had had up till age fourteen were imaginary.

None of them existed!

And, if I had managed to convince myself that no one but those imaginary friends understood me, then no one really understood me.

Except that in three months, some three good months of being friends with pastor Gabriel, someone finally understood me! I was persuaded that I did myself enough harm to have lived in isolation all of my life. However intricate as I might had imagined, my life was way simpler than that.

I wished I had, at the very least, made just one friend. I wished I had not punished myself thinking I was making my parents pay for how they raised me.

Well, that had become my past, I finally could call something my past. Now, in the present, I fancied how pastor Gab made small things undeniably big, and how he cherished the big ones. I overly enjoyed his company, his loud hums, the joyful atmosphere, and how he spoke confidently the scriptures like its pages were a road he used to journey upon.

I realized how I had missed out on a lot of things, but everytime I winced about it, pastor Gab would say, 'God always restores the lost years, only if you would let him, only if you'd let him', then, he'd stare long at nothing, a smile would curve out on his lips, making us laugh it off.

He was that kind of man. And, I was a nice young lady, dark complexioned and often complimented that I had lips that looked like and felt like satin. Whenever they were glossy, it was remarked that those lips shone like snowflakes. They were my trophy.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, probably the sixth time again that morning. I was a big woman indeed. Not to mention that I once considered myself unfortunate for these wonderful features. Gladness filled my heart for appreciating them already.

'Maybe God changed my appearance too, what do you think?' I recalled asking pastor Gab one Sunday.

'You've always been like this.' There was a pause, then a smile, and a soft voice continued, 'You looked like this from your first Sunday in church, when you sat with your grandma in that yellow dress. It was obvious you were shy, and somewhat interesting as well.' A pause again. 'Nothing changed, just how you see yourself.'

All the time, I couldn't help the giggles, plus the worms in my stomach were not helping, because I was certain those were not butterflies.

'If you say so,' I replied, trying to hide my blush knowing he was still letting his eyes rest on me.

'I say so, Titilayo.'

Thank youuuu!

I might as well add that pastor Gabriel meant that Titilayo was beautiful, and he loved everything about her, and..., but pardon me, I didn't want to be forward. 😂

In the last days of March, I lived with some of the best women in the world. One of them is Titilayo, another is Jesuferanmi, and the other is Taiwo. These ladies are amazing! But, this is a work of fiction, so so so, yea so, it's fiction.

And, the beautiful black lady is Adedolapo. She recently remarked, after seeing some of her past pictures, that she had indeed been beautiful without seeing it.

As I write this, I'm in the middle of fighting sleep 😹.

kendeodetayo@gmail.com, send me a message if you want to! I'd read and reply.