SPOILT AT CHURCH
CHAPTER SEVEN
The carnal mind is deceitful, wicked, and has no capacity for the kind of love that God extended towards man, by sending his son to die as propitiation for sin. The religious humans without God’s kind of love, do not have the mind of Christ, and would do anything to pull others down. They cast stones, they rejoice at the downfall of others, and are extremely judgmental.
Leaving the Pastor’s office, the two Deaconesses made straight for the home of the Aboderins, planning on how to throw dirt on the face of the bank- executive wife, and the Professor husband. To them, they always behaved as if they were the only blessed people in the Church.
Mrs. Aboderin was not keen on letting them in, especially because of what they did to her daughter.
“Why have you both constituted yourselves as Sanballats in the Church?” she asked, pointing at them, and shaking the head. “Why are you always poke -nosing into the affairs of others? Always looking for faults and casting stones.”
“Mrs. Aboderin,” Mrs. Williams said with a gentle voice. We don’t know what your daughter came home to tell you. We were only trying to be good Christians, by correcting her.”
“And telling her she’s not well trained? Mrs. Aboderin asked. “Common! Remember the Church is for all of us.”
“Madam please we are sorry if what we did offended you,” Mrs. Johnson responded sharply, while holding her hands up. “I beg you to sit, and listen to what we came to tell you. We have a bigger problem in our hands.”
“What problem that we can’t discuss at Church tomorrow?”
“The Pastor sent us here.
The word ‘Pastor’ was what calmed Mrs. Aboderin, and made her allow them into the house. Leading them to a seat, she sank into one and demanded for the message.
Mrs. Johnson cleared her throat, and shifted forward saying, “This is a kind of message one will not be happy to relay, but how do I refuse the command of God’s servant?”
Mrs. Aboderin’s adrenaline shoot up at the words of the Deaconess. She wondered what could have happened, that would warrant the Pastor sending them to her. Her mind drifted to her husband on sabbatical in another state. If something had happened to him, definitely it will not be these holier than thou personalities, that would be sent to her. And her children? All were safely at home except the one on campus.
“Did anything happened to my husband, or my boy at the university? She asked fearfully.
“No madam, on the contrary, we came concerning Martha.”
“Yes! What about Martha? Why can’t you leave her alone? Even the Reverend?”
“Please calm down ma,” Mrs. Williams pleaded. “It is a serious issue.”
“I’m all ears,” Martha’s mum responded, adjusting on the seat.
The two women looked at each other, to know who would bell the cat. They both turned to face Mrs. Aboderin, and looked at her so long, that she got embarrassed, and averted her face.
Clearing her throat, Mrs. Johnson asked if Mrs. Aboderin had noticed any change in Martha.
“Change?” Mrs. Aboderin said.
“Like weight gain, increased sleeping, tiredness, signs and symptoms of…”
“Symptoms of what?” Mrs. Aboderin flared up. “What audacity? You are evil minded.”
“Who is evil minded?” Mrs. Johnson responded with equal heat. “Bring out your daughter and let’s clear the air. Some people noticed strange things about her, and the Pastor instructed us to come and find out. Is there any harm in that?
“And what happens if your insinuation is wrong?
“That will be between you and the Pastor, we are doing our job as sent.”
Mrs. Aboderin stood up to go in and call her daughter, but the women stopped her.
“There’s no need to go inside, shout for her please.”
She felt invaded and intimidated, and wanted to send the two away. But she knew she needed to maintain her cool. She would rather call Martha, and shame them.
Martha was called. Oblivious to what had transpired, she thought the women were there to give a report on what happened at the church.
“Madam! Look very well,” Mrs. Williams pointed. “Are there no visible changes in your daughter?”
“Oh! Now I understand,” Mrs. Aboderin responded. “If it is about her weight gain, it’s because she just finished WAEC and has been staying home and resting a lot. What else do you want to know?’
“Please ask her of the last time she men$truated,” Mrs. Williams demanded.
Mrs. Aboderin had started feeling funny and uneasy, the kind of feeling you have when it looked as if your adversary has an information that could give him an edge over you. It was glaring that Martha had added so much weight, with her feminine features looking ballooned. And, she had been complaining of nausea and loss of appetite for close to a month. She often looked tired and worn out after a little work.
Oh! This is not happening, she whispered, as sweat broke out on her forehead, and she held firmly to the arms of the chair.
Fearfully, she said. “Martha look at me, when was the last time you men$truated?”
“Men$truation?” Martha asked in an uncertain voice.
“Yes! Men$truation! Bl©©d! Her mother screamed.
“Three months, I think three months,” she answered, raising three fingers.
“What? This girl has killed me,” her mum screamed again.
“But mum, you know my period has never been regular.” Martha explained. “It comes every three month.”
“Thank God,” Mrs. Aboderin said, putting her palms together. “Can you people see? She said, while stretching her hands towards the two Deaconesses. “I’m sure it will come very soon.”
“Indeed! Mrs. Williams winced, but I still have a question to ask her.”
“What else do you want?” Mrs. Aboderin asked. “She has given you an explanation for her missed period. What else do you want?” She repeated.
“Madam, the changes in your daughter depicts nothing but pregnancy.”
“Martha,” Mrs. Johnson cut in. “I have another question, and I want you to answer me truthfully.”
“Okay ma.”
“Look at me straight in the face.”
“Yes ma.”
“Have you been with a man?”
“Been with a man?”
“You know what we mean, did you sleep with a man?”
Martha turned to her mother; who was eagerly waiting for a negative response, and burst into tears saying, “Mummy! I was forced, I was rapped.”
Mrs. Aboderin fainted.
©Bosede Fagbemi
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