Before I begin this, you should know that I’m not the best believer of the Christian ministry of mankind. Simply put, I believe in God, but I do not believe in the love of His creation for Him. Some people say that makes me a cynic when it comes to matters of faith. I agree. That is why, as I read this piece, I felt as though the writer had burrowed into my mind and unearthed all the skepticism I harbour in there about the present day Nigerian man of God.
This poem gave me the impression of the writer, a congregant, standing in one corner of the vast auditorium of the church, arms crossed, eyebrows lifted in disdain at the pastor prancing about on the rostrum, spreading the good news. I get the impression of the writer giving the pastor that ‘I know what you did last summer’ look, his gaze stabbing the man of God with his knowledge of the ‘Baal prophets you have killed’ and the ‘handwritings on the wall which you have not read’.
I follow his gaze to this man of God at the altar, and because I know what this congregant knows, I see the man of God for who he truly is – a man of the World. A carnal man. A libidinous man.
The evidence of his debauchery is littered all over this well-written admonition.
You tell me each Sunday
Of fervency in the spirit and holiness
But you would not quit the deliverance sessions
At the single ladies’ homes
You specialist in healing breast cancer
We hear of the miracle babies who
By the rod of Moses
Between your legs came into the world
You speak so much of King Solomon`s wisdom
We should have known you loved his marital life too
The last census reveals the harvested seeds
You have sown in the
Needy bellies of the maidens
The signs of the end time you have long talked about
Began in your home
In your room
Under your bed
LOL! My goodness, this pastor is a whore. (Pardon my French)
I especially enjoyed his poem because of its enrichment of sarcasm and humour. I remember first reading it and laughing out loud when I happened on the lines: ‘You specialist in healing breast cancer… You should have known that the walls have ears / And the holes in them are eyes never talked about…’ (LMAO! Akinsiwaju Sanya, you should totally write for MMS. Here’s my card, give me a call 😀 )
And it’s a bit ironic that in the end, the congregant assumes the role of the instructor and the pastor the role of the erring child, who gets to hear the words he so often peddles to the sinful masses out there: ‘Repent! For the kingdom of God is at hand.’
THAT was such a brilliant finish to a write-up that was a joy to read.
Written by Walter Ude
Walter is an award winning Nigerian Writer, Poet and Veteran blogger. He is a lover of the written word, the faint whiff of nature, the flashing vista of movies, the warmth of companionship and the happy sound of laughter. He writes at http://www.mymindsnaps.com/
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