DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT GOD!

I woke up with a banging headache. It feels like several people are pressing really hard on it like it is dough. No thanks to the church that has decided to hold seven night open air evangelism besides my house. I am now an insomniac. Why did the rain cease and allow such cruelty? The past six nights had taken away all my body filters such that every drum beat and every sound even the obnoxious amen screams into my ears it makes me cry. Good a thing, last night was the last night of the pathetic show. People denying themselves sleep just to pray to a being who doesn’t answer prayers. Good a thing they were done last night but my woes are not over as today is Sunday. I will have to be dragged to experience bliss and a spirit filled service. To me it’s all theatrics, people falling under the influence of the so called Holy Spirit and muttering gibberish. The fun part is the wails and the wiggling of their bodies like an earthworm that has come in contact with sodium chloride. They are all jokers. Each time the display starts; I just roll my eyes and gaze at the clock wishing I had some magical powers to make the seconds hand move faster so the hours hand can get to 12 O’clock and end my misery.

Don’t even start with being astonished at the way I view churches and worship. What are you worshipping? A God that can’t save you when you are in need? I remember Matt 7:7. That used to be my favourite quote as a child. “Ask and it shall be given unto you?” You can as well go get it yourself than grow grey hairs waiting. Do we even talk about 1Cor 10:13, “where he claims no temptation has ever overtaken you that is not common to man but he will give you a way escape for everyone”. It is either He has his favourite he answers their prayers or he must just hate me for no reason. Well, it’s a bad thing because now we are even. I hate him too.

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“God you heard me right. I hate you. Yes, I hate you. That’s right. What are you gonna do about that?” I screamed at my ceiling with a mocking laughter filling up my throat waiting to explode. I let it out but then the laughter soon turned painful and became wails as tears filled my eyes forming small silver droplets, kissing my cheeks and then flowing down to my mouth. I fell right beside my bed as I wailed uncontrollably muffling the sounds with my pillow. My heart felt like it was about to be wrenched out from my body. The headaches worsened and then I couldn’t even make any sound anymore, my body was shaking and the tears felt like they were being heated but still falling freely struggling on its own to stop as I tried to pull myself together so I can breathe with my mouth since my nostrils were now blocked from too much crying.

“Where was he when I needed him 18 months ago? Where was he when my whole family was exterminated by hired assassins? Where? Where was he when I was raped before my family was murdered in cold blood?
I still remember the screams.

The memory is still fresh. It felt like just yesterday we were in my house. My father, mother, brother and I. We were a happy family. Daddy had just gotten promoted as one of the directors in an oil firm and we were celebrating that night with a bottle of champagne and some chicken and fried chops. Our laughter bounced through the room as mummy said a toast and daddy screamed “Hurray” after the usual Hip! Hip! Hip and then afterwards tried to do some funny leg works. He wasn’t a dancer. Heck! None of us were blessed with the gift of moves but nevertheless we still move the little way we know how.

We were still clinking our glasses when the door pulled open with a thundering sound and four men dressed in black with faces masked burst into the house looking so fierce and pointing their guns at us, screaming instructions I was too panicky to understand. It was just like a horror movie. Daddy sprinted to my brother and I dragging my mother and standing in front of us with his hands spread like a barricade in defence.

“Please, don’t hurt my family. How much do you want? I heard him say repeatedly. They just stood there, looking so fierce and the guns looking like they are about to go off any minute.

One of them decided to speak after some seconds. He started with a distasteful laughter and the rest soon joined him. “Look at this man. How much do you have? He mocked, laughing deliriously with so much energy I could actually hear the echoes long after he had stopped.

I was petrified. They were like monsters about to devour us. Mummy was just reciting the Psalm 23 over and over again. “Even though I walk through the valley of shadow of death I fear no evil…..” these words hung like a smoke from overheated oil. My older brother was whispering “God, save us. Please God” Well, I was just 16. I should be praying too right but words failed me. All I did was hide behind my daddy, listening and watching the events unfold.

“We aren’t here for money”, the one who seemed like the ring leader spoke again. “We are here to exterminate you”, he said making a calculated effort to keep his voice down as a means of getting every word in the message sink. Immediately he said those words, my father knelt down before him pleading and crying, touching his feet, calling different amounts of money he could give them even a blank cheque.

It was an unendurable sight. “Where is the God mummy and brother have been calling?” “Won’t he perform a miracle like cause the earth to open and swallow these bastards?” My tears flowed like wine like a really sad tomato, so much it blinded my sight. It was heartbreaking knowing that my daddy is begging for his life, for our life. Mummy soon joined, both them holding the legs of our soon to be executors pleading unendingly.

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“Stand up man”, another of them scolded. “We have an express order and that is to ……” he finished forming the shape of a knife with his finger and moving it across his neck. They all burst into laughter again. “But before we do that”, he continued walking towards me. Fear gripped me with each step he took. He got to me and held up my face while I shut my eyes from fear. “This beautiful daughter of yours look so succulent and we will just have to have a taste of her. Boys what do you think? He asked as the rest chorused yes still laughing hysterically.

I wasn’t sure I heard right. Next thing I knew, two strong hands grabbed me, pulling me up unto his shoulder. I heard my elder brother shouting “No” and running after us as he carried me up the stairs then I heard the gunshot. It was so loud and terrifying. I didn’t know who had been shot. I didn’t know what was happening. I kept shouting, “Daddy please help me, where are they taking me to?” “Mummy please do something, mummy please” my voice trailed on until I couldn’t hear my parent’s plea anymore.

Up in my father’s room, the masked man that took me upstairs threw me on the bed and tore my night gown. I watched in terror as he unzipped his pants, brought out his manhood. The realization of what was about to happen hit me. I struggled to get up from the bed and run but he smacked me so hard with the butt stock and I fell. In my semi-unconsciousness, I could hear them making remarks of how tight I was and how they want to take turns going again. That was all I remember. My waking up was in the hospital.