Chapter 8: Religious confrontation.

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        RELIGIOUS CONFRONTATION

Without regards for my choice, I was made to seat by her side in the car as she drove towards our family church, standard living faith church. I stole glances at her with an upset representation drawn across my face but she couldn't care less. I don't think she even noticed. Her eyes stabilized on the road ahead and I hated my position more than ever.

"Mum, do you believe I'm possessed?" I queried as I looked up to her. She glanced my side once.

"God forbids. You're not possessed."

"Then, why did you force me to come along with you?"

I needed to hear a better explanation though I had a vague view of what her reply could be.

"Kamharida, do you need to be possessed before you go to church? Aren't you grateful to God for keeping you alive?" Her tone went up a bit and I could pick out the disappointment that laced in them. Strangely, guilt swept over me.

"I am," I muttered under my breath as I lowered my eyes in shame. Mum was good at this, playing the guilty mind game.

In the end, I let out a light sigh as I turned away and gazed at the view outside the window. We were forced to a slow pace as a result of the familiar traffic jam that occurred right around this route and time. It was evening and nearly every worker was making their way to their various homes. Cars, buses, a few autorickshaws and motorcycles intercepted into any line each time they saw the slightest space.

One or two cursed, another yelled, a few honked and yet, this was our daily lives. All we had to do was bear it for a few minutes if one was lucky and the unlucky sometimes spend hours on hold. The city was populated and so everyone had to withstand the effects of its overpopulation.

Feeling a little awkward and out of place, I infrequently moved to the praise songs the leader of the praise team anchored for the evening while the rest of the church chorused after her. My movement was one step to the left and another to the right as I clapped my hands. Yes, I grew up in a religious home but when it came to expressions, my sister and I were nothing like mum though we truly believed in God. Mum was a hearty believer and wasn't shy to dance her heart out in church.

Sooner than later, the atmosphere became much quieter as the pastor upfront taught a few things based on the verse he picked out from the bible and everyone paid attention. I lowered my eyes and suddenly, I was reminded of Bayo. That's true, I haven't seen him since we left home. Did he eventually leave? No, he sounded like he wouldn't disappear till I spoke to his mum. Wait, can he disappear, like in the movies? Almost right away, I shook my head. It can't be possible, right?

"What's wrong?"

In a weak startle, I was forced to look in the direction of the voice. There he sat on an empty seat beside me. I looked mum's direction once to check if her interest was still fixated on the pastor and thankfully, yes.

I leaned a little forward, resting both my elbows on my knees, "Where have you been?" I asked him in a close whisper and without sparing him a good glance. The last thing I needed was for a few more people to stare at me like I was insane.

"I gave you some space."

"Space?" I repeated and he nodded. "So, you just evaporated into thin air?"

He gave up a light chuckle. "Kind of." His reply was dubious and that left me a bit irritated that I found myself completely staring at him and after what would seem like a while, I looked away. I sat up just as my interest was back on the pastor.

For what would seem like a while, I stood by the car, awkwardly waiting for mum as she exchanged greetings with a few people after service that evening. Each time they took notice of me, I smiled my brightest and greeted them politely. They rendered a few praises and little acts of surprise at how grown I've become. I smiled and nodded in accordance.

"A minute Rida." Mum declared just when I thought it was over and I watched as she walked away. Only when she stopped did I realise whom she had taken off for. She was on her best behaviour smile as she greeted the pastor and they began conversing. I fixated my gaze on them like that would help me understand what they were discussing.

"Do you think they're talking about you?" Immediately, I turned to the sound of the voice in a startle. One look at who it was, I shut my eyes for a second as I took in a deep breath.

"Don't ever do that again." I cautioned with a deathly glare and only when I saw a ray of remorse in his eyes did I let everything go. I returned my gaze to mum.

"No, I do not think they're talking about me. I'm just... I'm just observing." I lied.

"Well, she did say you were going to get a deliverance..."

"Shoosh... you're talking too much." I hushed him up because he was starting to mess with my head. It's enough that I see him. I don't need him messing with my thoughts as well.

Mum's expression was serious as she listened to the pastor. I couldn't help but wonder what he was saying to her. What did she say to him? Where does my fate lie in the nearest future?

As if having read my mind, mum shifted her eyes to me and gestured that I come to her. My heart sank as I stood straight. Is this it? Am I going to get a deliverance? I thought she had joked about that. I spared Bayo a look. "If things go out of hand, I'll never forgive you," I muttered loud enough to his hearing before I was on my way to mum.

"Good evening sir." I greeted politely as soon as I was beside mum. He smiled his warmest with a nod as he lightly laid a hand on my back, a sort of embrace.

"Evening Rida. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine sir," I replied alongside a courteously smile.

"How is school? Your mother tells me you're preparing to start your final exams."

"School is fine sir. Yes, the exams are close." I answered still with the same humble expression. I watched him nod in accordance.

Pastor Nelson was one of the older pastors in the church. He was nice and had a way with words. The members loved to approach him with the worries that filled their troubled hearts and mum wasn't any different. I remember, mum would always say, 'the anointing on that man's head is great.'

"Not to alarm you or anything of that sort but your mum told me, recently, you seem a little troubled. Is that so?"

I gulped down. Here it is.

I spared mum a glance only to realise they both had their gaze fixated on me, waiting for my reply.

What situation is this? How do I tell a minister of God that I can see the spirit of a comatose classmate? What would be his reaction? Would he believe me or simply chuckle at my confession? Rida... what is it going to be?

Nervously, I gulped down once more.

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