Short Story: Beloved In Christ (Part Six)
The Kpebu is a 5.9 feet tall guy. He is neither slim nor fat. His shape is well built; maybe he sleeps in the gym all day. I have to confess: I was imagining his six packs and perhaps how long it could weigh down there. But I bemoaned at the devil in me; we are in the House of the Lord.
He began strutting at my side like we were both walking down the aisle, straight to the meeting room. I saw a number of youths there. They had more ladies than men. I can say the ladies ratio to the men is 3:1. And surprisingly, Maa Christy was giving them a sermon. The preaching did not last for a minute after I took my seat. “I will be waiting for you at the car park,” my mother whispered into my ears. But later I would come to know that it was my mother who sent Kpebu to fetch me so that I would also join the youth meeting, which they called “Beloved in Christ”.
Maa Christy had taken her leave now. Kpebu stood in front of us and announced: “‘Blessed is the Lord, in whose Hands is the dominion, and He is over all things competent’. Beloved, we have a sister in our midst.” He mentioned my name. And asked that I take a stand for all to see me. While I was about standing I could hear them murmuring, the rest. Their yapping was that since everyone goes in front when he is new to the Beloved, then my standing up alone would not suffice and, perhaps I would also need to follow their liturgy (i.e., coming in front to introduce myself).
This time I remembered the catwalk I used to do during entertainment hours at Okpoglo Senior High. I stood in front of them. And you know men, they started chanting distinctly: “Tilapia…Tilapia.” Kpebu tried shooing them but they never listened. Since the females started yelling the same sobriquet, I took it in good faith and waved at all of them before resorting to my seat anew.
A female tapped at me from behind, as I rested my buttocks on the seat and chipped in this: “I am Sharifa, you?” “Adukwei.” “You are a beautiful tilapia. Now we would stop hailing Akosuwaa, who behaves as though she is an arch angel.” By her comments I got to know that Tilapia, to them, is a beautifully voluptuous woman which, in anyway, it defines my embodiment perfectly. From there, some few ladies came congratulating me personally for joining the ‘Beloved’. “Promise us that you would come to park tomorrow?” they abjuring me. I could not say anything but it seems I like them, they are beautiful people.
I took a quick look at Yawa and Sharifa. They somehow appear a bit matured and classy. They are in the university. Later I bade them a farewell but with an assurance that we will talk more at the park. Sharifa interjected me: “Okay. I would like to go with you, since your mother’s house is just some houses before ours in the neighborhood. I know your mother but if not today I did not know you are her daughter.” “I was in school. I just moved in here after my last paper. Maybe that was why you never saw me.” I nearly told her the real reason — that Mr. Aworka has broken my mother’s heart. Ah like that would have been superfluous of words.
TO BE CONTINUED…
By Abdul Rahman Odoi
(UNEDITED)
NB: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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