She is the reason for all this. She is to blame. Her and her stupid beautiful mouth. I can’t even insult her right. I need to leave her. If I didn’t know her I’d say she is trying to change me. 28 years of conditioning, heartbreak, lies, and ZBC cannot be kissed away that easily. Nothing she says will make me go to church. Never. Well not after everything I’ve seen her church elders and sisters do.
Ntando, you know it’s time! “, she barks as if I’d move, her bite is mind-numbing so imagine what her bark does. All I can think about is ripping her ridiculous praise team uniform. — Who in their right mind designs this garbage? The colors are all wrong, and the texture is… –” Are you even listening to me?”, she says out of her breath. Understand this, I married a tiny person, so she gets tired from talking fast. Which is unlike tiny people, I think her defect is what I love. Her mother is the total opposite. Well, she is tiny, just loud, and runs her mouth until she sounds like white noise. A few decibels below my grandmother, thankfully.
Where was I? She wanted to change me. “Church”. Suku said. “will help us get through this rough patch”. I see no way prayer is going to give me back my job, unfuck the neighbor and unfuck all those girls whose names I don’t remember. The good thing is, her patch only involves the job part, the rest is my word against theirs, if the truth does come out that is. I can never do church. Partially because our neighbor goes to the same church and maybe because I might have hit on the pastor’s wife, a couple of times, like every chance I get. She works with me. Well, used to. It’s all innocent, don’t judge me. Again, this was her fault. Not my weak inhibitions, what happened next that is.
I went to church. Like she wanted. I hated it like I knew I would. From the endless handshakes from ushers to the fake smiles I got from the praise team. I even hated that I didn’t know any of the songs. Songs that were off-key, not in sync with the instruments. And of course, my neighbor had to be the one leading intercession. They let anyone do these things huh? Maybe church ain’t so bad.
“At this point, we’d like to pray for loyalty and faithfulness in our Lord”,
“…pray for your portion because your share might be taken by someone undeserving”.
The nerves on this woman were unmatched. Her sexual appetite could probably match that if I am being honest. This woman had a way with her mouth. No wonder why her words made the whole congregation roar in prayer and tongues when she stopped talking. Mrs. Msimanga is a woman. An African woman. Thick, dark, and soft. Generous.
She was talking to me. In front of everyone. In front of the pastor’s wife. In front of my wife. Poor Suku. Her beautiful voice echoed in the background as Mrs. Msimanga spoke. Another thing I hate about church. Songs in the background during prayer. But today was a symphony of my desires. Suku and Mrs Msimanga that is. The intercession finally stops. I want to be home.
Did I mention the pastor is also the prophet? Again, this is Suku’s fault. Bringing me here.
“There’s a devil within our midsts! ,”, “kulosathane phakathina kwethu! “, the pastor and his interpreter yelled. The pastor’s eyes glued in my general direction. His wife sat somewhere in front. Looking important as usual. He married young so you understand why I hit on his trophy. She could do better. The pastor is built like a typical blesser. And ironically his profession is there. The difference is, he gets all the money from other people including the working youth . He repeated, “there’s a devil within our midsts” Overkill. I heard him the first time. Bite me.
“I had a revelation as we were praying bandla.. “
“Amen… Amen !… I don’t know how to put this”
He kept his eyes glued on me. I could tell he was looking at him. He walks towards me. I didn’t want to be here. And now this gigantic mountain of a man is coming towards me. I did nothing to his wife. What’s his problem? I hit on her, she initiated the rest. I will keep insisting that all I did was hit on her. The rest was beyond my control. She knew what she was doing. What I don’t know is what is the pastor doing coming towards me.
“Young man, Stand Up!”
I could see my options quite clearly as he said that. Option A- Run, option B- fake a manifestation, option C- all the above, B-A order. I stood up. Shit. Suku had her eyes gazing at my soul with pride glimmering. She thought this moment was about to be my delivery. That finally, my afflictions would be lifted. She was right about one thing. My afflictions were lifted, from my thoughts into the public. Apparently I have an unclean spirit.
Guess what happened next.