WE CALLED HIM PASTOR...

 It was few minutes pass 6:00AM, and everywhere was still dark, however it’s a rule in my family that my mom’s shop must be opened before day break. She believed a serious business person must capture all customers including those who leave early for work or parents who intend to buy beverages for their kids in preparation for the day (school). Her voice could be heard, as her whimpers became loud while their voices were harsh and threatening.

It was so early and they knew no crowd would be gathered while they did what they carried on. They kept pushing her and insulting her in Yoruba while I watched with keen interest, trying to understand the drama playing before me. Of course, they were less concerned about me, since I was a teenager who possibly couldn’t understand the language they speak.

I was trying to understand why these uncles who carry bible, mention God in everything and organize crusade monthly were manhandling a woman who was visibly hurt, crying and looking older than them. They kept pushing her away from their gate, while pastor watched, with a contorted expression.

Getting closer to the shop, I overheard them berating the elderly aunty for thinking pastor would marry her because she got pregnant. They mocked her for not being able to take care of herself and threatened to deal with her if the news leaks. I was confused because she looked older than them.

In my naive mind, I was trying to understand how a lady who looked older than the pastor got pregnant for him and why pastor and his brothers in the Lord were trying to intimidate her instead of taking responsibility. She cleaned her tears with her blue hair tie, cursed them and left with her head cast down. They laughed, high fived themselves and turned with shock when they noticed me staring. My expression was cold and my distrust for people who act unnecessarily very godly.

I had listened to pastor Evans  preach against fornication and how a pleasure of 5 minutes could lead to eternal destruction. He talks about how we should hate sin and live a holy laugh.

I had relayed the story to my friend who lived in his compound and she brushed it off like it wasn’t important and that discouraged me from talking about it anymore. The brush off did not deter me from looking at him with hatred and refusing to greet him. He understood I knew the story.

Only if I knew my close 16 year old friend was already in his web. She had persuaded me to accompany her to see someone and somehow we landed in pastor’s office. Sighting him, I became so uncomfortable and scared. I kept thinking of what I witnessed. He called her aside, they spoke in hush voices and thankfully we were dismissed.

I couldn’t voice my fears, and had to pretend to be ok as I did not wish to appear naive. Few weeks later, my friend disappeared without notice. We kept asking of her, and her family kept saying she had traveled to be with relatives because of school. I felt hurt and betrayed, as she never informed me of leaving. 

After a year, the story was everywhere in whispers. I blamed myself over and over again. I wished I had forced her to believe my story. I wish I had told everyone and I wondered again why a man of God will have something with someone so young. 

Still trying to understand,  another youthful pastor in the area impregnated a teenager and left with the wind. Nobody could reach him. This was more intriguing as Dorcas was always coming to buy things in credit, claiming her mom sent her, while pastor enjoyed free things and food. Dorcas was in the choir and was always in church for activities. My parents had praised her severally for her love of being in the presence of God and wished their children were as committed. They understood later😂