Perceptions…

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A few weeks ago, I went to the salon with a friend of mine. While we were there, a member of my church walked in to get her hair done. I’ve worked closely with her before on a church project. I was genuinely happy to see her so I said hi, gave her a big hug and introduced her to my friend. Then, she turned to my friend and asked, “So, is Ngozi always this quiet?”

My friend choked on her bottle of water. “Quiet ke?? KWAYET?? This same Ngozi that I know? We can’t get her to shut up!”

When we got back to my friend’s place and met two other friends there, she was like; 

Then she gave them an exaggerated version of what happened in the salon.

I do a lot of volunteer work in church, especially helping out during major programs. My main work though is as head of a small department. I say small because it’s not a visible role, and we’re only three members in my department; me, my assistant and one other member. So, technically, I’m a leader in church. 

In every service, there are seats behind the pastors that are reserved for leaders. However, you will never catch me dead sitting in one of those seats partly because I know that there are people in my life who, if they walked into that church hall and saw me sitting behind the pastors, they might faint from shock. Or, like my friend, they might choke on their bottle of water.

A few of the friends I get to see most often don’t even attend my church, but they are familiar with my church schedule. If they call and I don’t answer, they’ll say, “It’s the first Monday abi? She has a meeting”. Those ones, if they entered the church hall and saw me sitting behind the pastors, they would think nothing of it. My Christianity is useful to them because they can talk to me about stuff, and I’ll have a word or two for them… or just listen because I’m a good listener. 

I find it most amusing when they talk to me in ‘Christian-ese’ and they say things like;

“By God’s grace, I will have xyz.”

“I serve a living God and I have faith that xyz will come to pass in my life.”

“Ngo please pray for me, let God help me o! I want to do xyz successfully.”

I’ve come a very long way from being a judgmental prick. I used to be the friend they hid stuff from. Now, even when xyz is armed robbery or kidnapping, and it is on the tip of my tongue to say it, I don’t tell them that it is not the kind of thing one prays to God for. 

Usually, we’re ok, just barely navigating that fine balance that seems to work for us. All it takes to tip the scale is for another friend of theirs to show up and announce that she’s in a rotten mood because her boyfriend’s “mumu wife don get belle again.” Then I have to pretend like I don’t see when they exchange looks and give her the evil eye signalling for her to hush.

We don’t say things like that around this one. 

(So, maybe I am still the friend they hide stuff from).

There also those in whose best interest it is to have you on the seat behind the pastors. They need my Christianity intact in their dealings with me because it gives them license to treat me like a piece of shit. I can point it out a thousand times and say, “Hey, I REALLY do not like being treated like a piece of shit”, yet it will simply go in one ear and out the other. Then, the day I act out, they will gasp in shock. “Sister Ngo! You call yourself a Christian yet you can’t forgive me for this 101st time that I stabbed you with a broken bottle? You want to cut me off? Even if you’re bleeding, can’t the blood of Jesus replace the blood loss???”

Suddenly, I am the bad person and me and my chair are fake. They dig in and draw from a well of grossly misquoted scriptures on the concept of forgiveness;

“Didn’t the Bible say that you should turn the other butt cheek when someone spanks you?”

“Even Jesus said your brother can offend you *punches calculator* FOUR-HUNDRED AND NINETY times.”

 

On the flip side, we have those who, when it doesn’t suit them, when they need me to be bad with/for them, this same Christianity begins to irritate them. They cannot grasp that the chair is a way of life and not just a piece of furniture that one can leave behind after every service. It’s worse when they have their own reserved seats in their own churches. 

It confuses them because they can ‘play’ church just as much as I can. They are leaders too, just like me. In fact, their wives are respectable members of the Women’s Group. Na so de ting go… so why won’t I remove my pyint and show daddy what I can do???

To them, me and my self-righteous, goody-two-shoes chair can go to hell.

The moral of this post is: If you come to my church and see me sitting behind the pastors, don’t try and help me calculate my Christianity. I’m just a normal girl, trying to work out her faith in fear and trembling.

I love you guys…  

Birthdays and Gratitude…

12

It was my birthday on the 1st of July and I woke up feeling like an ungrateful wench. I think I muttered a brief prayer of thanksgiving, but that was all. I wasn’t angry (I think), but I know I wasn’t exactly overjoyed. I just wanted to stay in bed, watch Tv and have the day go by quickly. I didn’t even go to church, even though I told my mother that I did.

By 7:00am, I got a call from the Workers Care department of my church. Turns out that all leaders in church get a cake on their birthday. I didn’t know this so it came as a pleasant surprise. The caller wished me a happy birthday and asked for my address so that they could have my cake delivered. Later in the day, my brother visited with lots of food. I was so touched… before he left, I gave him a huge chunk of the cake. In the end, my day wasn’t bad. I consoled myself with the fact that last year’s birthday was amazing, so it’s ok that this year’s was quiet.

Life has been ok. I’ll admit that so far, the bad days have far outnumbered the good, but when people ask how I am doing, I now say “I’m great”, with emphasis on the great. I do this because I’m sick to death of constantly being on the defensive. I defend positive things like how I got a new phone, how I got a new pair of shoes, or why I spend so much time in church. I once had to defend taking an Uber instead of taking a bike. I’m constantly explaining why I sometimes come across nice/basic things if I’m really as ‘poor’ as I say I am.

The problem is, I’m not a very assertive person. Plus my confidence level is at an all time low so when people are telling me (unfiltered) what they think I should be doing with my life or my time, or when they are telling me all the things they are sure I’m doing wrong, I can’t pull my hair out and tell them to leave me the fuck alone. I just sit quietly and nod. Now I keep every progress, and every milestone, no matter how small. I keep my ambitions, and most of all, I keep my failures. This way, there’s peace. If I’m asked how I’m doing, and I say, “I’m doing great!”, there’ll be nothing to fix, no solutions to offer.

The resulting isolation isn’t healthy, yes, but for now it’s safe and it’s familiar.

I sound like an ungrateful fowl right? Yes, I know… birthdays have always been hard for me. Ironically, my room is full of sticky notes with reasons to be grateful. The idea is to see them everywhere I look so I have them up on the wall beside my bed, on the bathroom mirror, on the door of my fridge. Do I need to list them out for you?

Sometimes, I want to go away to a place where no one knows me. No phones, no Tv. I would have internet so that I can play the daily challenge on my Spider Solitaire app, and also so that I can have access to Creflo Dollar and Robert Morris sermons on YouTube. If there’s a local church, I might attend once for the first-timer’s refreshments, otherwise I’ll be in my room.

Sorry if this post doesn’t make sense… my thoughts are all over the place.

My Royal Wedding experience…

19

A few years ago, an old friend called me up. He’s best friends with a guy I once dated. He wanted to know if I was seeing anyone because he had a friend who was having a hard time finding the right kinda girl. No deformity, no weird fetishes, his friend was just a really nice guy with bad luck, so he thought of me.

Of course, I was very flattered. I asked, “Is he serious? Abeg I don’t have power for games.”

“Yes, he’s dead serious. He doesn’t want games either.” So he sent the guy my number, and BOOM! we hit it off. The chemistry was instant. We genuinely liked each other and we never seemed to run out of things to say or talk about. All this was at a time when I used to hide from people because I was ashamed of the issues I had with school. I had taken steps in the right direction, but I was a full decade behind my mates. (Till today, I still hide, but not as much anymore).

Anyway, one day, I gathered courage and told him about school. To me, that was my biggest deal breaker. He listened intently and when I finished, he asked, “And?”

I said, “Well, that’s it.” He looked puzzled while I tried to convince him there was a problem where he obviously didn’t see one. I was doing well now, he said, and that’s what mattered.

Brethren, after that conversation, I began to pick out baby names in my head! I thought he was perfect. He was such a gentleman, a little traditional, but a very decent person. One day, while we were in his house, he joked about bringing wine to my father to make his intentions known. On the outside, I rolled my eyes and hissed like I thought he was being silly. Inside me though, I was moonwalking with joy and twerking with gladness. By my calculations, if we had a November wedding later that year, I could give birth to my first son Deshawn by December the following year. Then I would have the twins- Shaniqua and Treyvon – two years later. Sadly, I didn’t know that was the last conversation we would ever have.

He joked about it again. When can he see my dad? How often does he come into town? I said he doesn’t come into town.

“Oh?” He thought it was weird. Does your mum go to see him often? How do they cope?

And that was when I realised where his confusion came from. I told him off-handedly (maybe too off-handedly), “Ooooh… my parents are divorced.”

He paused for a long moment. I wasn’t paying attention. If I had been paying attention, I would’ve sensed there was trouble, but alas, I was too busy thinking about the kids; De, Trey and Shay. His demeanor changed and he started asking serious questions.

“How long have they been divorced?” I did a mental calculation and told him.

“Ok… that’s not too long ago.” He sounded relieved.

He pondered some more, then said, “So… as the children, what steps have you and your siblings taken to reconcile them?”

*RECORD SCRATCH*

Huh??? Rekkon-whaaat?

The question drew me out of my day dream. He asked again; What are you guys doing about the situation?

We’re living in peace, that’s what we’re doing, I thought, but I knew I had to carefully word my reply. I was used to people being shocked at my divorce jokes… my divorce jokes were like Yo Mama! jokes, but about divorce. He wouldn’t have laughed. Yet, how was I supposed to explain just how very bad things were without revealing embarrassing details?

He said he was disappointed in my attitude. In our culture, divorce is blah blah blah… separation is blah blah blah… the white man has normalized blah blah blah. I wasn’t moved by his speech. I was too busy living in peace.

The rest of the conversation was awkward. In the car, on our way to drop me off at home, he was brooding. We said goodbye like we were going to resume texting each other in a few minutes, but I never heard from him again. Our mutual friend later told me that this guy’s parents would never have allowed him “marry a girl from a broken home.” I was sad, yes, but not surprised. He was the second guy I was losing to that particular deal breaker. I actually appreciated him because the first guy strung me along for a while.

Last week, I saw an article about the wonderful implications of Meghan’s wedding/marriage for black women worldwide. It was all BS. I don’t think her marriage did any extraordinary thing for black women. I’m happy for her like most people are. What thrilled me today was that a prince, a whole, REAL LIFE prince, married a girl from a broken shattered fragmented disintegrated home. If a lot of people die, she actually has a shot at being queen (I think). Or maybe not, I don’t know.

So that was my best thing about the Meghan and Harry wedding… and maybe for other girls like me who have to jokingly bring up the topic of divorce early in a relationship to gauge the guy’s reaction.

 

Dear Ladies,

So his parents are Knight and Lady Selfriteyos P. Ricks of one backwater parish in the middle of a village?

His dad is a red cap chief and his mother is a lolo?

They are church elders?

Directors in SPDC?

Good for them… but if Queen friggin’ Elizabeth and Prince Charles can let Harry wed Meghan, surely, SURELY, his parents can get over it!

What not to do when there’s a fire.

4

On Wednesday, I went to church without eyebrows. I was almost running late and didn’t have the time to draw them on before leaving the house. I figured I would do it in the bathroom in church, but then I got to church and just couldn’t be bothered. I’ve started to care less and less.

You’re probably wondering why this is a big deal, right? It’s a big deal because I have serious image issues. Although I don’t know how to wear layers and layers of make-up, I cannot, CANNOT, be caught dead outside without at least eyebrows and lipgloss, and of course my wig.

In my former compound, we had a number of couples who lived together. I used to be fascinated by how comfortable the girls got with their boyfriends. They would leave for work in the morning all dolled up, every strand of hair in place, but the minute they stepped through the gate after work, they would whip their wigs off their heads and walk into the welcoming arms of their boyfriend. When the cornrows are freshly done, it’s fine, cute even. It’s the three-week old dreadlock-looking cornrows that shocked me. And the scratching! I used to wonder how the boyfriends truly felt about it, if it was something they could openly complain about. Or maybe there was a secret support group for guys with wig-less girlfriends, where they could meet and let it all out.

 

However, it is true that often times, the things we hate are things we secretly envy. I envied their carefree, wig-free lives. Among all the couples, I noticed that even when there was a beehive nestled in her hair, and flies started following her around, it never took away from the love. It made no difference to the guys.

Still, I consoled myself. I’ve watched many relationships tank over time, and I’ve learned that those little things that used to be trivial, maybe even once described as cute or quirky, can gradually become annoying and irksome over time. One day, I thought, years from now, when their families and in-laws are trying to settle a fight, this boyfriend-turned-husband will list her larvae-infested hair as one of the reasons he no longer loves her. 

In January, I resolved to not do anything to my hair for at least six months… no weaves, braids, nothing. So when I went to see my ex, I dreaded taking off my wig. In his house, I locked myself in the bathroom and just sat on the toilet for a long time. I was giving myself a pep-talk.

Are you going to wear your wig forever? 

If you face him with only your good side, he won’t notice that your head is flat at the back. 

Life is more than Missionary. If you’re going to be swinging from the ceiling, you should be focused on your core muscles, not worrying about your wig falling off. 

 

He knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you ok? What are you doing in there?”

I answered, “I’ve removed my wig but I don’t know if I’m ready for this level of commitment.”

He laughed because he thought I was joking. Eventually, I came out wig-less AND without makeup. Throughout the evening, I kept trying to steal glances, to see if he was horrified or scared. In the end, it wasn’t bad. Even his friends saw me without my wig and just like that, I had become one of those girls!

I’m glad I’ve come a long way. Maybe I haven’t yet gotten to the level where I can fall under the anointing carelessly without the fear of my wig falling off, but I’m certainly not where I was around this time last year…

It was early one Sunday morning in April. I was awoken by the sound of sparks, like little explosions. I looked out my window and saw that a small fire had started from some cables under the circuit breaker box. In a matter of seconds smoke had filled the corridor.

Do you know what your favorite blogger did?

She jumped out of bed, reached up and grabbed her wig from where it hung on the wall. She adjusted it on her head before running outside and yelling, “FIRE O! FIRE!”

Short Quiz: Are you Anointed or Available?

0

Hello people! I put together this short quiz for all my Christian readers who are active workers in church.

BACKGROUND: I started off by getting acquainted with the subject. After that, I did an extensive literature review, mapped out my objectives and formulated a hypothesis. Then, with the use of an advanced questionnaire software, I created the quiz.

This quiz was specifically designed to help you determine your level of anointing. It’s pretty straightforward. You can tally your results at the bottom of the page.

Good luck!

 

QUESTIONS

1. Which one of these scriptures are you told the most by church leaders?

a) Esther 4:14 …and who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for a time such as this?

b) Hebrews 6:10 God is not unrighteous to forget your work and labour of love…

 

2. A paid member of church office staff resigns. It’s an admin role you are familiar with because you occasionally support the office holder. You submit your CV and voice interest in the vacant role. The response you receive is;

a) “We are erm… looking to have you erm… start off as a erm… unpaid volunteer, at least for the first few erm months and then we’ll erm see how it goes from there”.

b) “I don’t know about money, but it will definitely give you the exact kind of platform and exposure you need to really push your business.”

 

3. When you lay your hands on a crippled person in a wheelchair and command the person to walk, the person;

a) Swats your hand away like a fly.

b) Stands up, takes one shaky step, wobbles, and crumbles to the floor.

c) Dies.

 

4. Something good happens to you. It’s not groundbreaking, but you’re excited because it’s been a major prayer point. So you share your testimony in your group chat. The reaction you get is;

a) Silence at first, then a counter testimony that’s bigger than yours. (“I see your cured Tuberculosis, and I raise you two brain tumors and one full blown AIDS”).

b) A comment from a leader: “I knew it! I wasn’t praying for nothing. There’s no how I will pray for you and God will not answer me.”

 

5. Nothing good is happening, you feel like life is upside down. The reaction you get is;

a) “Are you sure you are seeking God’s face? God is faithful, but you have to play your own part”.

b) “Have you sent me a copy of your CV?”

 

6. You tell your leader/HOD that you are low on funds, and he tells you to;

a) Start confessing positively… you are not low on funds in Jesus name!

b) E-mail a copy of your CV for the third time.

 

7. There’s a leader’s meeting in church, during which it rains heavily. The meeting ends late and by the time you come out, there’s a flood in front of the church building. How do you get home?

a) NOT by getting a lift from the HOD of another department who drives past you and pretends to not see you.

b) You remember that Jesus walked on water, so you place one foot on the surface of the flood water… and quickly sink to the bottom of the gutter.

 

8. You’re walking away and someone pulls the hem of your garment. The reason is most likely that;

a) The 100Naira note you used to pay for your roasted corn is torn and the corn roaster is calling you to change it.

b) An Igbo man wants to sell you a pair of or-taint-eek day-zaina jims.

 

That’s it!

If you answered mostly A, I am sorry to let you know you are just available. You don’t have one single anointing… unless you count the ability to drink the water that someone else turned into wine.

If you answered mostly ‘B’, you are also just available. Zero anointing. Stop deceiving yourself.

And thank you for taking my quiz.