DIARY OF A CORPER — EPISODE 8: CORPER GOES TO CHURCH
Taiwo announced it like I had no choice.
I looked up from my phone.
"Why?"
"Because you've been indoors all day."
Okay.
That was not exactly a church reason.
"But I went for CDS today. Besides, I already have a church."
"That you haven't been going to?"
Ouch.
Taiwo folded her arms.
"You've been here for how many weeks now, and I don't think I've seen you go to church once."
Wow.
"The next time I decide to attend church, I'll make sure I knock on your door before I leave."
She laughed.
"Will you follow me on Sunday then? I'm inviting you now."
"I'll think about it," I said.
The problem wasn't that Taiwo invited me to church.
The problem was that every church invitation I had received since coming to Lokoja had come with its own unique brand of wahala.
Never simple.
Never.
The first church I attended after arriving nearly gave me high blood pressure.
Halfway through the service, the pastor suddenly stopped preaching.
Then he pointed in my direction.
"You, in the blue dress."
My heart stopped immediately.
Ah.
This is how it starts.
I had seen these things happen before.
Someone gets called out.
Then comes prophecy.
Or revelation.
Or a public exposure of sins they committed in JSS2.
My mind was already racing.
God, please let this man not start seeing visions concerning me.
I was mentally preparing myself for whatever was coming.
Only for the prophecy to be meant for the lady sitting behind me.
The relief I felt that day cannot be explained.
I never went back.
Then there was the offering church.
Every ten minutes, another envelope appeared.
Building offering.
Special offering.
Thanksgiving offering.
Project offering.
Pastor's appreciation offering.
Youth development offering.
At one point, I became suspicious.
Were they creating these offerings on the spot?
By the end of the service, I was checking my bag to see if I had money left for transportation back home.
Because at this point, it felt like you people would have to announce a special offering for my t-fare home.
If I continued attending that church, my savings account would need deliverance.
My brain and my spirit held an emergency meeting and unanimously agreed that we were not going back.
Then there was the church Mrs. Ajayi from my PPA invited me to.
She had been inviting me for a while, and since I hadn't settled into any particular church, I decided to follow her.
The woman was so excited.
You would have thought she had just met her monthly evangelism target.
In fact, she personally came to pick me up from home so I wouldn't get lost.
When we arrived, praise and worship had just ended.
Immediately, I was glad I had dressed well.
Earlier, I had been wondering if I was overdressed.
Everyone looked elegant.
The church itself was beautiful.
Large.
Modern.
Affluent.
Multiple giant projectors hung across different sections of the auditorium.
The choir sounded incredible.
The instrumentalists were excellent.
Even the ushers looked like they had graduated from a hospitality academy.
The way I was escorted to my seat, I felt like I was boarding a first-class flight.
So polite.
So professional.
Then they handed me a first-timers' package.
Omo.
It felt like I had gone shopping.
When I told Bassey about it later, he joked that he would attend the following Sunday just to collect his own package.
Femi immediately reminded him that he was already the keyboardist in his own church.
That church honestly impressed me.
But there was one problem.
Distance.
It was simply too far.
Mrs. Ajayi couldn't keep leaving her family every Sunday to come and pick me up.
Eventually, I accepted the reality that I needed somewhere closer to home.
So one Sunday, I decided to visit a church on my street.
It was small.
Simple.
And honestly, I liked it.
At least in the beginning.
The real wahala started after the service.
Before I could even leave, three different people had collected my phone number.
"It's for follow-up," they said.
One added me to a WhatsApp group immediately.
Another person insisted on knowing exactly where I lived.
"You know, so we can always check up on you."
Aah.
Check up on me or monitor me?
Then a middle-aged woman from the choir approached me.
"Aunty, you're very fine o."
"Thank you, ma."
"I'm sure you have a beautiful voice too."
Wrong.
Very wrong.
"We are looking for you in the choir."
Choir?
In my first service?
How had I suddenly become a worker?
Before I could recover from the shock, she had already started explaining rehearsal schedules.
Then she called another choir member.
"Please make sure you collect her number."
Excuse me?
What kind of recruitment exercise was this?
Na by force?
That was the day I officially retired from my weekly church-tour era.
I started streaming services online.
And avoided becoming a choir member against my will.
So when Taiwo invited me to church, all these memories came rushing back.
Which category would this one be?
Prophecy church?
Offering church?
Follow-up-until-you-repent church?
Or the type where, before the closing prayer, they have already assigned you to three departments?
I looked at Taiwo suspiciously.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
She laughed.
"Just come and see."
That was not reassuring.
Not even a little bit.
And judging from my track record with churches in Lokoja, I had a feeling this invitation was about to give me another story for the diary.
The question was—
Would I survive it?
End of Episode 8
To be continued…
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