Chapter 2: Thunder for the Redeemed Assembly

Pastor Eze voice, full of heavy vex, scatter like thunder for every member ear for Redeemed Assembly.

Dem say when lion roar for bush, all goat go run hide. Pastor voice that day pass lion own. Even people wey dey road for outside stop dey waka. If you hear am, you go know say serious palava dey.

“That jezebel from Kingdom Chapel—I go finish her with my own hand!”

“I no go rest till she fall!”

Him anger just dey rise, even heaven dey fear. The Holy Ghost fire wey dey come out from am freeze every usher and elder for the church compound, make everywhere cold like harmattan. The sky outside don dark, breeze dey blow dust enter compound, as if even nature dey fear.

Even old Mama Nkechi wey dey sweep church compound since 1972, just stand still, broom for hand, mouth open. Some children dey hide behind pillars. Everybody dey look Pastor with fear. Na so powerful the atmosphere strong reach.

If Pastor find out say…

Na the Kingdom Chapel woman from the rival church don run escape, and na me dey with am for that day and night…

My heart dey skip beat. I dey pray say make my secret no ever leak. I dey feel like fish wey dem pour for dry sand.

E go finish me too? Me wey dey guard the vestry for am?

I just dey imagine, if Pastor raise him hand, e fit wipe me comot for face of earth. The kain fear wey dey my belle no get part two.

No be only me o.

The three thousand members for the church just dey shout.

Voices dey rise, some people dey sob, others dey call prayer points, shouting on top their voices. The choir mistress hold her head, dey recite Psalm 35.

“Who from Kingdom Chapel get mind challenge Redeemed Assembly Pastor—”

“No be say Pastor dey on retreat to overcome temptation? Person still fit sneak enter vestry go offend am—”

“See as thundercloud full sky…”

“Na Holy Ghost fire! Why una still dey stand? Quick, make una activate the prayer shield—”

Even the security man, Baba Tunde, lock main gate. People dey fear as if rapture fit happen any moment. Some dey rub anointing oil for their forehead.

Members begin form prayer circles, all of dem dey look church office where me and Pastor dey.

Different departments—ushering, protocol, women fellowship—all form circle, dey pray in tongues. Small children dey peep through window, try see wetin dey go on for inside.

Everybody dey wonder:

Wetyn that woman do wey fit make anointed Pastor forget say prayer dey go on, just to come out come fight?

Whisper dey fly everywhere. Even elders dey look themselves, nobody fit guess the wahala true true. Some dey suspect say maybe na spiritual attack from rival church.

Big Sister Amaka and Uncle Sani rush go main church. When dem see as I dey, blood still dey my body, I just dey look like person wey dem pity…

I see Big Sister Amaka cover her mouth. Her eyes red. Uncle Sani rub him face, like person wey chop pepper by mistake.

Dem begin beg for me:

“Pastor, abeg calm down.”

“Little Sister never strong reach—how she wan take fight that woman—”

“Abeg, Pastor, forgive am this once.”

Even the other mentees dey hide for corner, dey nod along, dey support. Some dey mumble prayer for under breath, dey intercede for me like say na their own blood.

Pastor only get five mentees. I be the youngest and I join last. Everybody dey pamper me, dem dey call me Small Blessing.

From the day I join, everybody dey carry me like egg. Dem dey buy me gala, pure water, even puff-puff after night vigil.

Na Brother Chuka carry me come.

I remember how e drag me come altar, say, “Pastor, see this girl, spirit dey her body.” Na so my journey start.

Big Sister Amaka use plenty anointing oil, suffer well well to save my life.

She rub oil reach my head, she even pray sotey her voice crack. She dey fear say if anything spoil, na she dem go blame.

Even though dem call me Pastor’s daughter, because I be woman, na Big Sister Amaka I dey spend time with pass.

Na she dey teach me how to tie scarf, how to greet elders, how to fast small small so that body no go faint. She dey show me all the woman matter for church.

If no be for this kind shameful thing with Pastor, I for still be Redeemed Assembly’s… soft small girl.

Dem for still dey send me message, dey joke say I be their pepperless soup, because I soft, no dey talk too much. Everybody for dey shield me from church politics.

Now, everything don spoil.

Even small children dey look me with new eye. Some people dey whisper when I pass, some dey avoid my seat for prayer meeting.

So, I no fit talk, I no even fit let word comot my mouth.

My tongue dry. If I try talk, na only hoarse croak fit come out. My eyes dey red from too much cry.

Even when Big Sister Amaka wey love me pass secretly send me WhatsApp message ask:

Big Sister Amaka: “Small Blessing, how your body? 😢 You need make I find herbs heal you—”

“Wetyn really happen for vestry—”

“Pastor… self, e always dey care for you pass. How e go gree see you dey hurt yourself—”

I just dey look my phone, hand dey shake. I type, then delete. I dey fear if my answer go make wahala worse.

Pastor just dey boil with anger.

If you look him face, you go see vein dey swell for forehead. The kind anger wey dey shake chair, e fit make grown man kneel down beg for mercy.

The first thunder never even land from sky, e don fly come out from prayer shield go face am.

For this our church, people believe say thunder na sign say God dey angry too. All the old women dey cover their head with wrapper, dey pray aloud.

How I wan take talk wetyn happen…

I dey bite my lip, dey shake. I dey imagine say, if I talk true, wahala go double. I dey beg for strength.

I no even fit tell Big Sister Amaka say:

“The woman wey wan sleep with Pastor don run. Pastor confuse, I no fit resist as e fine reach, both of us fall for the lust poison wey she leave, last last, na me collect Pastor anointing—”

My mind dey shout, but my mouth lock. How I wan tell anybody say temptation pass both of us? I dey fear say dem go say na me seduce Pastor.

Then come talk:

“Even though the thing sweet both of us, Pastor wake vex, now e wan finish—”

If dem hear am, na disgrace for me and Pastor. Our church people no dey hear that kind matter, dem fit carry am reach market square.

Thank God say after Pastor beat that woman till she vomit blood, e fall enter spiritual destruction.

I dey remember as Pastor hand dey move, as he dey pray, fire dey fly for mouth. The woman try run but leg weak. She stagger, dey spit blood. I dey pity her small, but fear no let me move.

E no even see my face clear.

Because as everything dey scatter, him eye red like person wey drink ogogoro. I use the chance quick clean up, pack the anointing oil bottles, wipe blood for floor.

I no get chance to run, I just quickly clean everywhere.

Na only wetin I sabi do. If I run, dem go catch me. If I stay, I fit manage survive.

So the vestry get plenty loopholes. Even if I survive, to offend Pastor na like to offend Redeemed Assembly—my only hope.

If dem pursue me from church, where I go go? My mama no get power, my papa die since. Church na my family.

If I dey alone, where I go run go?

I dey remember my first night for Lagos. I sleep for church bench, na Big Sister Amaka cover me with wrapper. My people no dey, na church give me name.

With Pastor, e fit ever better?

I dey reason, maybe if I beg am, e go gree forgive. But for Naija, if person spoil name for church, e hard to ever clean am.

You think say anointed man of God go gree forget him own reputation?

Pastor pride no get mate. Even if e get small heart, e no go wan make people dey gossip. E go do everything to cover shame.

I just answer half-truth:

“I no even know. Na one kind purple light just hit me, I faint.”

“E be like say…the woman try steal Pastor anointing, do wetyn no pure.”

I dey hope say half-truth go save me. Sometimes, if you too talk, wahala fit increase. Na so dem teach me for village—use wisdom dey answer.

I no fit lie give Big Sister Amaka; she no just be strong prayer warrior, she be head of one women fellowship.

She sabi everything wey dey happen for church, even before dem announce am. She get third eye, if you lie, she go just dey look you, smile small, then pray for your spirit.

If she check well, she go see wetyn happen for vestry.

I dey pray make her spirit eye close small for my own matter, make she focus for prayer battle.

But since Pastor still dey face spiritual battle for vestry, nobody fit near am for now.

Dem say make nobody open vestry door, even deacons dey fear. Some people dey pray for corridor, dey plead blood of Jesus.

Elders dey pour salt and palm oil for vestry door, dey block bad spirit from enter.

I just push all the blame give the woman, make she no fit defend herself.

She don run, her ministry sef dey hide. I dey pray make she just disappear, so all blame go land for her head.

Inside my mind, I dey beg:

God abeg, let the thunder destroy that vestry finish.

If thunder scatter vestry, nobody go fit check evidence. Everything go turn dust, wahala fit end quick.

Make everywhere clean.

I dey imagine, if rain fall, blood and oil go wash away. New day go come, maybe people go forget.

Big Sister Amaka talk:

“Just relax, focus heal your body. Leave the rest for us, your brothers and sisters.”

“When Pastor calm down, I sure say e no go punish you again.”

She dey squeeze my hand, her palm soft. She dey talk low, like person wey dey coax stubborn goat. Her wrapper dey smell of camphor and anointing oil, like old church bench after all-night vigil. I dey try believe am, but fear dey block my ear.

I no believe am.

I dey shake my head for inside. The way Pastor face dey set, e fit punish me for midnight, when nobody dey.

E go still do am.

As e stubborn reach, once Pastor talk say punishment must land, e go make sure say everything complete.

Big Sister Amaka hear as my cry dey turn hoarse, she think say na just fear dey worry me.

She hug me, dey pat my back. I try breathe in the smell of her wrapper, but my spirit no gree calm.

Even for her dream, she no go ever think say I don shout tire under Pastor.

She dey see me like small angel, no fit imagine say I fit cross line with Pastor. Her faith for me pure like Sunday rice.

To play the innocent and clear myself from anything with Pastor, I squeeze out some tears:

I rub my eyes, sniff, let big fat tears fall for my cheek. I dey act like person wey dey broken, so dem no go suspect say I get any hand for wetin happen.

“Big Sister, Uncle, if na true say that woman violate Pastor, abeg make una speak for me.”

My voice crack, I dey sound like goat wey dem tie for harmattan morning. I dey beg with all my body, dey look like person wey don give up.

I just dey cry, dey do as if I no get shame.

I lie down for mat, dey roll small, as if pain dey my waist. If dem see me, dem go pity, talk say God go heal my heart.

Na Big Sister Amaka suppose guard vestry before.

Na true, na she dey always watch vestry, dey block strangers. If she dey, maybe the wahala no go happen.

But recently, spirit wahala for Youth Fellowship just start, so she run go settle am.

Dem say one boy dey see vision wey dey contradict church teaching. Big Sister Amaka na the only one wey fit settle the palava.

Na why I come replace her to protect Pastor.

I gree, as mentee, to fill gap small. I no know say na big trap dey wait me.

After everything, Big Sister Amaka dey feel guilty for me. She look up see as thunder and lightning full sky, she talk:

Her voice low, like prayer under breath. She dey squeeze her fingers, dey bite her lip.

“I just tell you make you watch for one day, I no even think say anything go happen. Who for know…”

“Sigh, as everywhere dey shake, Pastor self…”

Her eye red. She dey feel say maybe na her fault everything scatter. She dey look sky, dey beg God make e show mercy.

Chai.

Who for think say that woman go get mind target anointed man of God?

For this city, na only mad person fit try that kind wahala. All other pastors dey fear Pastor Eze. E power no be here.

That time, spiritual energy just scatter everywhere.

I fit feel the air heavy, even church walls dey vibrate. People dey say dem see shadow dey dance for outside window.

The purple thunder and blue lightning dey fight for sky like say dem be enemies.

Some children dey count the flashes, dey clap anytime sound land. Elderly women dey shout, “Blood of Jesus!” for every rumble.

Na so Pastor dey vex.

E face dark like new moon. Anybody wey cross am, fit collect slap wey go reset sense.

Uncle Sani, wey never talk, just look Big Sister Amaka, then talk:

E voice low, but e dey tremble. E dey hold hymn book tight.

“We don enter wahala, this one no go end easy.”

“E be like say that woman succeed. If not, why Pastor go vex like this?”

Everybody dey nod. The elders dey whisper say spiritual battle go last till next full moon if dem no settle am.

Pastor fine no be small. Na the youngest pastor for the whole city, women from church and outside dey find am for years.

Even women from other parishes dey travel come our own, just to greet Pastor, drop seed offering, dey hope say e go notice dem.

E just dey focus on ministry.

E dey pray, fast, dey do crusade up and down. No dey smile anyhow. People dey say na only serious matter fit make am forget himself.

E heart no dey shake.

If you greet am, e go just nod, no dey touch hand. E dey keep distance from all women, even from us mentees.

How that woman from rival church wan take near am? Even church girls from big families go struggle see am.

I dey wonder, she fit use jazz? Abi she get one secret wey dem no know? Everybody dey suspect different thing.

Na only something dirty like say person steal him anointing fit make am lose control like this.

Some elders dey murmur say only strong spiritual attack fit shake Pastor spirit reach this kind level.

Big Sister Amaka see as I dey suffer, she pat my head, try console me:

She wipe my forehead with her scarf, dey whisper prayer, dey beg God to restore my joy.

“Small Blessing…”

“Na my fault too. As I think am now, that Youth Fellowship wahala na that woman plan to comot me from here.”

“You sef na victim.”

She sigh, rub my back. I feel small comfort, but inside my chest, cold still dey.

Na only us five mentees fit near Pastor.

Some people dey envy us. Dem dey say we be Pastor pikin by spirit. To get that kind access, people dey pray sotey dem lose voice.

E dey set high standard, only dey pick prayerful and gifted people.

If you no sabi pray for hours, if your tongue no dey sharp, you no go see Pastor side.

Me, I be exception: I get double grace, but with rare spirit.

Dem say my spirit dey like camwood—unique, but no too popular for church.

Pastor don talk before:

“Even though Small Blessing gift no too pure, her spirit na the same as my own. If she try well, she fit inherit my real teachings.”

I remember the day e talk am, all other mentees dey jealous, dey look me like say I win lottery. Since then, Pastor dey guide me special.

Now.

True teaching don really enter my body.

That woman don spoil my life.

I dey bite my lip, dey vow say if I ever see that woman, I go show am pepper. She turn my blessing to curse.

No talk say na only Pastor wan finish her—if I see her again, I go find way finish her too.

If I hold her, I fit even pour anointing oil inside her shoe. She go know say I fit vex.