By Sunmola Olowookere
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T heir voices could be heard down the lane. They sounded like warriors going for war; men and women alike. However, they were not warriors. They are church people. They pray at any hour of the day. They parked their motorcycles outside and gathered for prayers not minding that they could be doing some brisk business at that hour.
By 9 a.m on the appointed days, they gather for prayers. Most of them are of Igbo descent. Hence,they are closely knit. When they pray, they throw their doors open in invitations to people of like minds who would like to join their service.On this occassion just like the other times, they were on serious business. They stamped their feet on the tiles and the ground shook. They obviously meant war. The stronghold of the enemy must be pulled down. The revival was hot. They sang heatedly.
“Who can battle with the lord?3x, I say nobody.” They chanted almost in a crazed frenzy. On Sundays, their prayer partners would join them as they operate a mini church in their rented apartment. They would shout themselves hoarse while binding and casting their “enemies” into bondage.
They would also pray on Wednesdays. Soon their membership began to grow. At a time, they organized a crusade in front of their compound. None of the residents joined them.
Their neighbours in the next apartment to them did not join them. They were confident that they were doing the neighbourhood a lot of good by praying for the residents and warding off any evil hovering over the area.
Little did they know that most of their neighbours ŕesent their ways of praying. Their immediate neighbour most especially was fed up with the situation. He could not complain openly for fear of being tagged “anti-christian”.
Whenever they decided to have a vigil, he would be forced to stay awake and observe a vigil too.
Their rigorous prayers, stamping of feet on the ground and violent songs was not left for the daytime alone. They see the nighttime as another avenue to engage the devil in another round of battle.
Theirs is a little kingdom. And the pastor and his wife are like the king and queen. Their apartment; a two bedroom flat housed 12 people. The couple themselves have six children. However, four other relatives were living with them. As we all know, the Igbos are very accommodating people especially to their kinsmen.
Their number reduced when one of the children died out of negligence. The members were shocked to the marrow. They never thought that evil could befall the leader who helped them to ward off the devil. Upon their sons death, things went downhill. The poor boy had yellow fever, instead of taking him to the hospital, they bought drugs at a chemist and were praying for him until he gave up the ghost.
They tried raising him from the dead but it was fruitless. They prayed extra hard in their mother tongue but nothing happened.
They shook the boys’ lifeless body and demanded that his spirit be returned back to his body. They were crying and praying in Igbo language. It was a terrible day. The residents had to intervene at a point and persuade them to put the poor boy to rest.
They have become a spectacle in the neighbourhood. They conduct prayer meeting every Mondays and Wednesdays. On Fridays, they hold vigils. Afraid that their crazed neighbour might make good his threat of pouring them feces, they resolved to report him to their landlord.
They have the right to do whatever they pleases in their apartment, how dare he threaten them? They fumed before the landlord and they demanded that he evict the mad neighbour as they could no longer live with him.
The landlord was shocked to hear the couple being so inconsiderate. He told them “I cannot evict him. You provoked him into doing what he did! Though I don’t support violence but did you tell me you would be operating a church here when you rented the apartment? “
The pastor was shocked at the turn of events. Then the landlord delivered the last bombshell “please, I don’t want trouble. Don’t use my house as church. Get another place to do your church things. You may not know this but you have been disturbing the peace of this quiet neighbourhood. I have been getting complaints from other landlords. If this continues, I will have no choice but to tell you to move out”.
It was a humbling experience for them. It was a direct opposite of what they expected. Although he rebuked the neighbour who flooded their house, they were not expecting that they too would be rebuked.
They were stunned at the turn of events and they quietly slipped away from the meeting. Since then, we have been having some peace and quiet in the neighbourhood.
