The Second Path

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

December was already here. The best month of the year.

Zita and Joseph's wedding was next week Saturday and the anticipation has begun. Zainab and I reconciled about the situation that happened on Halimat's birthday. There was still strike. Inna Hauwa has not yet returned, still leaving Kauna in my hands.

Speaking of Kauna, she was at home at the moment, probably deep asleep. For the past few weeks, it was hard for kaka to decide whether Kauna will be going to the mosque or church. At the moment, the decision is for Kauna to be staying at home until we come to a clear mind.

Right now I was in church for 7 am mass, the Hausa service, sitting close to the altar as a visiting priest from Abuja led the Mass today. I looked around me and noticed that almost everyone have been putting all sort of odd expressions since he started preaching. And guess why? Because he was preaching in English.

They were annoyed because 7am mass was for Hausa service while 9:30am mass was for English service.

This was the only Catholic Church in Mansur and almost everything we did in the 7am mass was in Hausa. The Credo, the Lord's Prayer, Hail Mary, the missal readings, the homilies and the hymns were all done in Hausa.

I often went for the 9:30am mass while Kaka went for the 7am mass, but today, I decided to come for the 7am one because I woke up early for no good reason.

Even if I didn't know Hausa fluently, I sometimes came for the 7am mass because I was one of those people that only went to church just for God to tick my name in His attendance book every Sunday. I knew He wasn't doing that, neither did He have an attendance book in heaven for church goers. But I just kept fooling myself, mostly in the name of receiving the Holy Communion.

To make most of the church member's annoyance worse at today's Mass, almost all the prayers said today was in Latin because it was the first Sunday of the month. So those that could not hear English nor Latin were at a disadvantage today.

I continue looking around the church while the priest was still preaching and I noticed a few people were even leaving the church. It wasn't that deep.

My eyes glanced to the row beside me and I found Zita and Joseph grinning at me. She raised her hands high to wave at me happily and I waved back in return. But not with my hands as high as hers.

I usually sit around them most Sundays, but today was different. Thank God. Because every time it was time for the 'peace be with you' handshake, they kissed instead of shake hands. Which makes me really uncomfortable. Some mothers in the church have warned them about it but that didn't change anything.

Today, Kaka was sitting behind them. She was with Zita's mother. Even when Kaka and I went for the same mass, I barely sat with her in church. Neither do I go home with her. She always left church immediately after taking the Holy Communion. She thinks the remaining part of mass after the Communion is pointless.

I turn back to listen to the priest and I didn't see a glint of disappointment on his face while he preached. He seemed so unbothered about everyone's attitude. But our church priests who sat at the altar looked so unhappy about most people's behaviour.

"There is one thing I've noticed during my 23 years of ministry," the priest said once the grumbling reduced. "The unhappiest people in the world are those who judge others."