THE FALL

It was 5PM on Friday. The week has been a tedious one. I had just arrived from classes and was about to relish on the fact that it was weekend. I quickly dashed to the kitchen to heat the left over beans. Beans has been my nutritional diet for a few weeks now. Thereafter, I went to the bathroom.

The water was so refreshing. I felt like sleeping in the bathroom but for the intermittent banging on the bathroom door by my neighbor, Tunde.

“You never finish?” he asked in pidgin. He threatened to continue hitting the door until I leave. Even if I had frequently warned Tunde about his oppressive nature, he wouldn’t listen. He was gifted with biceps and he sometimes allowed those biceps bulge into his peanut shaped head. His head had a long occipital, like that of a calabash turned upside down.

“Wetin dey do you self?” I replied with transient rage. I was out in few minutes and rushed to the room; ignoring the oppressive hostel mate.

I removed the already dried beans from the stove. Dressed up to relax when I noticed I had gotten five missed calls from Nkechi, a sister in the fellowship. I quickly did some little run around to put things in order and then came back to reply Nkechi’s call.

Nkechi was the very description of a complete woman, you know what I mean. She had a set of blue eyes, neatly spaced tooth, pointed nose and light skinned. I started having feelings for her since we were paired as follow-up partner in fellowship. She was just a delicious dish for immoral diet.

I had been a very terrible personality until Nkechi invited me for fellowship. I decided to follow her and since then she has always been my reason for attending any Christian gathering. I started reading my bible to impress her. I even filled my phone with a lot of gospel music, especially those of Don Moen. She loves his song so much.

Quickly, I placed a call back to her. And, as if I expected a miracle to happen; I heard the haunting soft voice that reminded me about the empty account balance. I didn’t know how I successfully managed to maintain a flat airtime in recent times. Maybe Nkechi was the cause. But I liked it. I called her daily. Sometimes twice or three times daily.

I dashed out of my room to ask for airtime among my neighbors or maybe borrow cash from someone. Hah! It was Tunde I saw first. He was in the verandah. He was locking his door and was about to leave.

“Tunde my guy”, I said. Forgetting the fact that I had just shouted at him in the bathroom. “Abeg I fit get 200 box for there, I need am badly, I go pay you on Monday”.

He looked with surprise. I had never asked him for anything, let alone after the ‘bathroom-escapade’ we just had some minutes ago. It then dawned on him that this was a serious matter.

“No shaking”. He replied. He opened his wallet and dispensed the cash to me. It was like an amazing grace. I barely appreciated his gesture as I hurried to the opposite store for airtime.

As I approached the shop, I remembered that I owed Mama Nosa, the seller, N200 debt. I quickly diverted. But she saw me. She called but I refused to answer. She called again, this time, with more strength. But then I had already placed my phone in my ears and made as if I was receiving a call. It was a miracle to have avoided Mama Nosa. I had to go to the roadside to buy airtime.

I waited till I got back home before calling Nkechi. I never wanted any form of disturbance. I got home, sat down, loaded the pin and synchronized my voice in preparation for this ‘love call’. I vocally practiced the route I wanted the call to take.

I then dialed the lovely eleven digit. But no response. I dialed again and again. Yet, no response. I had already lost my eagerness when she answered the fourth time. Even in the face of this low eagerness, I still greeted, “Good evening dear”.

“God bless you” came the voice from the other side of the phone.

“Please I want to ask you a favor”; she continued. My heart skipped. Why would she cut in like that, without other necessary pleasantries? Was it money she wanted? Anyway, I told her to go ahead and ask. I knew that as far as it was coming from Nkechi, there would be no other option but to oblige to her request.

“Are you going out tonight”?

“No”. I replied.

“Promise me you will do this favor for me”. She said.

How does not going out tonight help fulfill her request? I wondered.

“Okay, I will”. I promised.

I don’t know how Nkechi did it, but she somehow found a way to my soft spot. My brain was running to and fro, trying to imagine what she would ask. Finally she spoke.

“We are having a deliverance vigil this night and we are to come with someone, anyone. I want you to come with me, remember you promised. It is going to be power packed”.

Nonsense! I felt a rumbling in my stomach, hot sweat on my forehead, cold sensation in my spine, irritation on my buttock.

“No problem” I reluctantly whispered.

I had thought of something more interesting. Was this why I borrowed money to call back? I would have just allowed her call me back instead. I ruminated in disgust.

“The program starts by 8:00 pm, I will be coming to pick you up”. She then hung up.

I dropped the phone slowly in disappointing annoyance. I tried to read and watched as the clock ticked toward 7:45pm.

Finally, I heard the knock at the door. Time to go.

I felt another level of disappointment as I put on my shoes. We finally left for the deliverance.

It was already 8:15PM when we arrived the church. Almost immediately, I was ushered a seat in the front. The very front roll, in front of the pulpit. Just then, sister Nkechi disappeared. I saw her at the back exchanging pleasantries and lining up with the choristers.

I couldn’t imagine being in the front all through the night. Indeed they say ‘love is blind’ but this time I had not only made a blind choice but a stupid one. I quickly found a way to move from the front seat to the back of the church.

After a while, I was in wonderland sleeping when a strong tapping from sister Nkechi brought me back to reality. “I can't believe you are sleeping”. She mentioned.

I manage to look at the big clock in front of the church, it was already 11:35pm. I wanted this cup to pass over me. I was supposed to be in my room sleeping away the stress of the day, instead I am in some deliverance meeting with one Nkechi. Nonsense!

“It is time for the deliverance session” she said looking straight into my eyes. She must have seen the tiredness in the bulging red eyes.

“Please be in the ‘spirit’ and stop looking about”. She quickly added.

A man in his mid-forties stood at the altar. He had a well ironed suit, a pointed shoe and a long red tie. He jerked forward, held the microphone with both hands and was continuously shouting some words that were not understood. They called it tongues. Hmmm!

Suddenly he asked us to line up for impartation. This we all did. In a few minutes I stood behind sister Nkechi. (By the way, what’s this impartation thing?)

The man in front, whom I later learnt was Pastor John, placed his hands on the lady in front of the queue and whoosh… I saw her on the floor in a flash. (Was that the impartation?) I was scared.

In a short while, the whole congregation was in commotion. All the persons that had been touched by the man-in-front were either shouting or crying. Some others were rolling and carrying out all manner of stereotypy behavior.

Before it got to my turn, I pulled my shoes and waited. Everyone pulled theirs too. It was now sister Nkechi’s turn. As the man of God breath on her, she fell like a tree. Seriously?

Hmmm, it was my now turn. I hope the power in this man does not make me break my head. A cold feeling went down through my spine. I was literally shaking on both feet. This was my first ‘impartation’ service. Whatever that means!

I watched as the man of God breath on me. But I didn’t move a muscle. That same breathing had sent a guy with a clean, white and maybe starched shirt rolling and shouting through to the back of the church.

Another shower of fear fell on me. Why was I not rolling? Am I a saint already? Is there not a demon in me? Or is the demon too big to respond to a common breathing? I wondered.

The man too looked surprised!

He laid his hand on me shouting at the top of the mic “Barisskamadaadevus”. I never knew what that meant. But it didn’t matter. All I wanted was that I find a way to reduce the attention I was already drawing from the congregation. Yet nothing happened. I remained standing.

The third time, he laid his hands on me and pushed me backward. I staggered a little and remained standing. Was I supposed to fall?

With disbelief and surprise, he told the ushers standing close to bring me to the altar.

The whole church was now a little organized with just only two girls laying on the ground and rolling as if something terrible happened to their loved ones. Everyone watched me in awe. It was as if I was the only one in recent times to have resisted THE FALL.

The pastor removed his suit and after some prayer and esoteric blasting, he declared I was possessed with seven strong demon. Just like that? My mouth was wide opened. Well I guess, that must be it, because I knew that something had made me not fall. But seven demons were too much now!

He then prescribed to the hearing of the whole church and also to sister Nkechi’s hearing that I needed a mandatory three days seclusion prayer and fasting.

Before I knew it I was escorted by four men to a prayer detention room. Where I spent the whole of Saturday and Sunday. I was kept there hungry, thirsty and tired. I wished I had never resisted the man’s so called ‘anointing’. I was finally released on Monday evening.

This all happened because I refused to take the fall. Now, I lost sister Nkechi’s attention because she now thinks I am or was possess.

I learnt a lesson though, that, anytime anyone lays hands on me, whether an evangelist, a teacher, a chorister, or even a lecturer; I must jerk, fall, shout, roll on the ground, cry, vomit, hiss, laugh or run. Yes, it is either I run or take THE FALL.

By WISDOM SHEDRACH

Wisdom is a 500 level Pharmacy student, University of Benin.