THE EVANGELIST...PART ONE

© Temi Akintade

It was in 2010, that year when the terrorist activities multiplied in Kaduna. It was in that same year that I finished my NYSC program and my relationship with God deepened. I returned to my parent’s house in Abuja even though I wasn’t supposed to, as a young Ibo boy. It was expected that I would stay in Benue state the place I was deployed to for youth service, and hustle just like my friend Dimeji had stayed back. He said he had a feeling that God was calling him into Import and export. When I asked him what he wanted to export, he said, oranges and cashew nut. I bade him farewell and left him at the city capital. There was nothing for me in Benue state- there were no job opportunities or even business opportunities so I returned home.

“Did you even ask God if you should return to Abuja?” Dimeji asked in one of my long phone conversations with him. I was currently seated behind my parent’s two-bedroom apartment somewhere in Abuja. I didn’t want to talk about asking God about where I should relocate to or not. Because I wasn’t understanding what I heard in the place of prayer a few days after I left Benue.

“I asked God but he was silent about it.” I lied.

“Are you sure? I just have this feeling that you are lieing because I know you. You will always stay in the place of prayer until you hear from God. What’s going on?”

I moved away from the house and stood under a big umbrella tree behind the house. I was certain that no one would hear my conversation. “I heard, go to Kaduna and preach my gospel.” I lamented.

Dimeji busted into fits of laughter. “Wait. You know, when God speaks he speaks from the realm of eternity and his now may mean in ten years. Did you at least confirm the date you should go?”

“Yes. I wasn’t even going to confirm it until I had a confirmation of leaving immediately after service. To crown it all, one of my old classmates from our university days, called me and asked me to come and settle down in Kaduna but I refused.”

“Ah, why? you even have accommodation already.”

“I don’t want to be a preacher just yet. After all, God has been promising me of getting me a job with one of these multinational corporations after NYSC. To crown it all, Ifunaya my wife to be has hooked me up with one of her big uncles here in Abuja who has told me to bring my CV on Monday. So how can I dump that juicy offer for Kaduna? That empty state? Never! See I love God and I love to preach. I pledged to God to make Saturdays my evangelism days where I will go out and preach to people about Christ but Kaduna, I can’t go.”

“But you are being adamant. I thought you have always wanted to preach the gospel.”

“Yes. I can always preach the gospel using my character, that is people can see Christ through me and what I do, I can always preach Christ wherever I found myself. After all, the spirit of the prophet is subject to the prophet.”

“You are only turning the bible to suit your ambition. Remember I asked God about my location? I still believe you should go to Kaduna and do what he says. He may not want you to preach like be a full-time minister maybe he wants to just use you for a while for certain people.”

I was getting tired of my conversation with Dimeji. “Come, I was the one who led you to Christ o! how come your spirituality is getting bigger than mine? I know my God more than you. See, when Jacob was going to Laban’s place, God didn’t give him a location and he still blessed him there!”

“Chuks you missed the part where the same God appeared to him to return home. Abi you no read your bible reach that place?”

Just then my phone beeped. It was Ifunaya’s call. My cheeks tugged with smiles. “Guy, cut abeg, my wife to be is on the line.”

Dimeji ended the call on his end while I picked Ifunaya’s call. She was saying something about coming to visit her as soon as I was done with her uncle the following day. Visiting her was something I have always tried to avoid because the last time I visited her, we almost had sex if it wasn’t because someone interrupted us by knocking on the door.

“I don’t think that is a good idea because we are both Christians.” I said.

She scoffed. “I have needs as a woman Chuks! You cannot buy me human hair, you can’t sponsor me to fix my nails or even buy some dresses. And the only thing that I ask from you just to be sure that you love me, you are trying to deny me of it?” she laughed. “You know what? I will tell my uncle that you are not interested in the job any more so that you can go and hustle in the streets of Abuja until the Abuja sun darkens your light skin then you will know that khaki no be leather.”

“No, baby don’t do that. I’m a preacher and I’m a man with blood running through my veins. I just want to practice what I preach. You know what, we will see each other tomorrow but there would be no sex until after marriage please.”

She laughed. “You are the only one God called o! Anyways just let us see tomorrow.”

We chatted some more and then we ended the call with my heart beating at the end. Ifunaya was my first love. The brown-skinned ibo beauty I fell in love with during our youth service. I had gone on evangelism, as usual, that day in Benue on a Saturday when I saw her. I just got attracted to her nicely shaped skinny stature and her pointed nose which made her slightly difficult to know if she was an ibo lady until she told me her name. that same day, under the scorching sun, I led her to Christ, she even wept on her first encounter with Christ and we exchanged numbers afterward.

And that was how we grew. From being friends to being lovers. I wasn’t sure if it was God leading me or my feelings but I proposed to her. I was certain that, as long as I had the Holy Spirit in me, I would be able to help her grow spiritually and she has responded to that even though it hasn’t been easy. Ifunaya was from a very wealthy home and even though Dimeji had accused me of being in love with her because of her wealth, I knew that it wasn’t because of that. I was just in love with her and my loving her, didn’t have any reason attached to it.

That night before I went to bed, I picked out a white shirt, blue necktie, and blue suit trouser for tomorrow. I was ironing my shirt when my younger brother came in. he was also in his final year at the university. “I hope you get this job.”

“By God’s grace bro! you are looking at the next Abuja big man.”

We laughed.

“See then, as soon as the job lands, I will first of all place you and mama on salary.”

Chinedu my brother paused. “What of daddy? Won’t you place him on salary too?”

Our father was a drunkard. An irresponsible one at that, who never bothered about the wellbeing of his family. Sometimes I wondered why my mother remained with him after 28 years of marriage.

We didn’t finish the conversation. We went to bed early that night. It was the noise coming from our wardrobe that woke me. When I glanced at the wall clock, I realized it was 2:00 AM.

I saw Chinedu ransacking my part of the wardrobe. “Come, what is it? Don’t you know I have an interview today? You are disturbing my sleep.”

Did he turn to me, his eyes red from sleep or tears? I wasn’t sure. “I dreamt that the shirt you wore for the interview got burnt on the chest and you couldn’t wear it again and you didn’t get the job.”

“Ehn!” I scrambled to my feet. My eyes darted towards the hanger rack of the wardrobe where my white shirt sat, untouched and dangling from side to side as though we weren’t just talking about it. I rushed to check if it got burnt from Chinedu’s dream but my shirt was fine, perfectly fine! “Chinedu just go to bed. You had a nightmare. My shirt is fine.”

He sighed and went back to bed. But I couldn’t Chinedu’s dreams always came to pass and this one it concerned my job, I didn’t sleep I remained on my knees instead, praying until 6:00 AM.

To be continued...