Maybe he did lie. The reverend did lie. All those sermons about Jehovah’s great love,maybe they were cooked or just another version of seasoned fallacy, and the bible is just a textbook straight out of the middle age. Maybe, churches are really just walls; projects founded by men who really only wanted to ‘invest’. Maybe… But it doesn’t matter anymore. It wouldn’t.
“Eva. Let the good Lord guide you” those were Mama’s last words. Words no one remembers; no one except me. Looking back now, it was like begging me to walk through a furnace or chant “to God be the glory” in a chimney, because I used to be a ‘runs girl’-a prostitute. I was too beautiful….too sexy to be dormant, my eyes caused men to fall, my hair-shiny black and silky, words, I mean words conveyed by my sweet sonorous voice could make a man forget his age. But I obeyed, I went to church on Sundays even though the sermons never really got to me. I became one of the beings taking a seat at the pew.
I followed Mama’s seemed-absurd advice and served in the church, my all did I give. I gave what I had, my body. It was the choir coord first. Ah! Eva. I took him in my late mother’s room;the deaconess’ room. “Eva. You can’t tell anyone what just happened” he pleaded after we had it.
But I never learnt to lie. So the next week he was out of the church. But I stayed, I had to. The reverend was my father. He covered me-or him. The choir coord wasn’t the last. “I am Eva. Men answer to me”
The post-mortem did say i died of AIDS, but the truth…i died in sin. I stood at the gate of fury as the doctors declared me dead and Yahweh pronounced my sentence. If only I could go back….But I
knew, game over.