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Aunty Feminist goes to Church | Church Chronicles 2

The period when women were told to be silent in the church was over. This was what Aunty thought before returning home to Naija.

Unpacking her luggage, she thought about the foremost thing she wanted to do. She would show up in church, the home church she’d been nostalgic about in the UK. 

Life as a working student had not allowed for too much church. She had only attended virtual church gatherings as much as she had the time. Homecoming, she dressed in the only native attire she had, a green agbada and trousers her UK tailor had sewn, ready for the non-virtual experience.

The Worship Experience | Church Chronicles 1

The worship leader collected the wired microphone from the prayer coordinator, who had set the atmosphere burning with some capital tongue speaking in the rented hall.

“Lerogete aikolema ribainda, Endoskelesh endoski barabai!”

He had declared with ferocity and some vibration of hands. One could see that the few members who came to church early had caught the fire. 

Sayo watched through thick concave glasses as the pretty assistant choir coordinator took her place behind the wooden pulpit. A glance at the choir stand made her wonder why the role of praying, using the ‘Prayer cord’ as a reference, usually went to the guys while the Eve gender huddled together for the singing role. Maybe God answered their prayers faster, she thought. 


Peter dropped them at the hospital. He didn’t have to open the door for them as he had when they had first gotten to the house. They got out of the car and he had to run to catch up with them.

Peter looked haggard. His hair was uncombed, and the stubble on his chin looked like irregular grass. Chief Adegoke had been in a coma for the eleven days. The last instruction he had given was what Peter had followed to the letter. He had been told to keep the three people safe no matter what.


Femi’s father turned to leave Bimbo’s private hospital room. She was asleep when he came to check how she was doing.

“Can you please call me when she is awake?” he asked a nurse on duty.

“The patient in room 5?”


Sandra came out of the station then. She looked at Mr Adegoke and shook her head. She didn’t believe all that she had been told by the police.

“Your persuasive skills are great sir,” She told him and left, Bimbo’s phone in her hands.


Femi and Sandra sat together in the waiting room, cold and comfortless. They looked constantly towards the emergency room where Bimbo was wheeled into.

Sandra’s phone beeped and she picked the incoming call. She stood from her seat and walked farther away from the waiting area.


Femi woke up earlier than usual and left for the police station. He was disappointed as he couldn’t see his father yet. It was too early in the morning. He went straight to work to face his query.

Just like he expected, he was summoned by the manager. He sighed deeply on getting to the manager’s office.

intensive listening to a playlist


“I’m not here for any ritual. I’m here for something different,” the man said in his calm voice. His thick voice had to be censored so as not to pass the wrong message. His son, the direct opposite in that aspect, had no trouble trying to sound calm.

“Stop pretending Step-daddy. I’ve talked to your son. You can take me away,” Bimbo insisted.

woman listening to a sad playlist


Bimbo opened her eyes quickly. The knock came rapidly again. Bimbo was already up on her feet. Her hands now seemed to have a mind of their own – they vibrated seriously.

“If this man gets in here, he’s not going to kill only me, he’ll do the same to you. Do you have anyone that can help us? Maybe your parents, I mean, your mum, or maybe someone else? Your pastor maybe?” Bimbo asked frantically.

sad woman listening to a playlist


“Who are you? Why are you here? Are you the one he sent to kill me?” Bimbo asked, teary-eyed.

“No, Bimbo.” The Holy Spirit sent me here. Even I don’t understand why I’m here.”

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