"Dance! Move your body for the Lord," the lead praise singer beckoned to the crowd as she moved the length of the altar once, then twice, sweat soaking the armpit of her long sleeve white shirt. Her straight-cut black skirt -- the choir uniform for that day -- threatened to restrict her movement, but she moved still.

The taste of intense praise filled the air like sweet incense. People - young and old - drenched in sweat that seeped into their clothing danced with wild abandon to the rhythm of the joyful beat. The melodious voice of the lead praise singer moved people, drawing them to move their body, sway their hips and dance away their shame. To praise God in a carefree manner.

Chinonye stayed at a corner, feeling a little self conscious. She was wearing a moss green chiffon blouse and a high-waist multicolored ankara skirt paired with black flats. If Hannah was around, she'd have danced with her. She tried to move her body a little, but the big man beside her was encroaching into her space, dancing like a wild horse.

Some days, when the Spirit really touched her, she danced too, but never without knowing what she was doing. Never with such wild passion blazing in her eyes. For she never really let go off her sense of presence. It was what kept her alive.

"Praise the Lord!" The lead praise singer shouted one last time before exiting the stage.

"Hallelujah," the congregation replied, finally putting a pause to the heated praise session.

The lead praise singer's generous behind caused a bit of traffic to the backup praise singers behind her as they made their way back to the choir seat. The pianist kept playing at different intervals as the Pastor climbed the altar to preach.

Pastor Paul or Pastor P as he was fondly called was a sight to behold every Sunday as he preached. His suit was always a size too big, his trouser too, but he would wear it with such confidence it could have been a designer suit. He seemed to compensate for it with his shiny shoes though, shoes that did not need polish, but a good old wiping with a clean rag. Chinonye thought it was just her who had noticed his slightly odd clothing, but she'd heard gossiping from a group of women who dangled car keys and flaunted new bags like it was cheap sweet.

His bald head would glitter with the sweat that he always manufactured each time he climbed the altar. He was a cool man who liked to take things easy, so one would wonder where all the sweat came from. His voice was audible and soothing, with a soft accent that he'd picked up from his years of living in the abroad - America. That was what brought most people pouring into the church in their numbers. They wanted to see the American Pastor. Chinonye found it funny that people would attend a church for such fickle reasons, but who was she to talk? She was only a member of the church out of convenience as it was just a 50 naira drop from her house.

"Children of God, please wake your neighbor sleeping by your side," Pastor P said, eyes shining like it always did, sweat rolling down his dark face. He reminded her of her Uncle, the one who was always so soft spoken when he was angry, but had a loud voice any other time.

Some people dozed off on their seats. The very same people that had just been dancing like their life depended on it. Now it was time to listen to the Word, and a cold breeze seemed to have blown, putting them to sleep.

The service ended an hour later. It was the second and last service for the day. The church only held two services, each for two hours. She was always attending the second one, as it was not too early.

"Sister Chinonye, the Pastor would like to see you," the usher who liked to point her towards the front, even though she never obeyed him said, his beady eyes making her shiver inside a little. Why couldn't he stop calling her sister?

She made her way to the Pastor's office, weaving through the handful of people who liked to stay back and chat after service. She greeted them expertly. Smiling at who needed to be smiled at, and keeping a straight face otherwise. If someone were to ask them to describe her, they'd say, "That nice single mother that never fails to greet people." It was better that way than being labelled a snob in church.

Two people where already seated outside the office, waiting to see the Pastor as she got there. She greeted them and sat down at the edge of the four- seater chair placed opposite the Pastor's office which was at the right side of the altar. Whipping out her phone, she kept herself busy in between polite conversations with the nice old woman seated beside her.

It wasn't until after an hour later that Pastor P came out to attend to her.

"Sister Chinonye," he said, only in his crispy blue shirt with soaked armpits and trouser, his suit long ditched due to the afternoon heat. "Let us stay here."

"Good afternoon Pastor," she said, following him to the front row and taking her seat. She turned her seat to face him, all the while making sure that people where still around. She'd only been attending the church for a year, so she could not fully trust him. Had she not heard stories? As kind and soft spoken Pastor P was, she had to be careful.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine pastor."

"I did not see little Hannah today, any problem?" he asked. He liked to give Hannah gifts from his wife.

"No sir, she's staying with her grandmother this holiday," she replied.

"Hmm. Good, good."

Then he looked at her straight in the eyes and said, "Have you been praying recently?"

She gave him a puzzled look, her brows furrowing ever so prominently.

Now he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, loosening his tie a little as if it was starting to choke him. He cleared his throat and darted his eyes across the rows of chairs.

"I mean, have you been praying about getting a husband?"

She looked at him, eyes popping. "Pastor P, I-I d-don't understand."

"Me neither," he replied. "I just heard from the Lord while praying and I have to tell you this. Discernment will help you. Choose wisely."

She cast her eyes down, embarrassed. "Okay Pastor."

His eyes softened as she looked up again. "It is important that you choose wisely. You may go now."

Standing up, she clutched her bag tightly.

"Wait," said Pastor P, "I know it's hard for you, but it'll get better. The Lord is your strength." Then he turned and made his way into his office.

Chinonye stood there for a while, breathing in and out, tasting the saliva in her mouth. Was she so lonely that God had told the Pastor? Or was it pity that had driven him to ask her such personal question?

As she walked out of the church building, she saw his wife seated in the car waiting for her husband. She was a pretty woman with kind eyes, a perfect match for her husband. They had only one son who was studying abroad. Chinonye noticed the crease in her forehead, she looked deep in thought.

"Good afternoon ma," she greeted her as she reached the side of the car.

Mummy P, as she was fondly called looked up at her and a smile instantly graced her pretty face.

"Good Afternoon my dear," she said.

Chinonye walked away quickly, not wanting to engage in any conversation. Who knew what the woman would tell her? Maybe she had also seen a vision concerning her husband too.

Her skirt rustled as a car sped by, breeze sending her black beret to a corner. She adjusted her beret and smoothened her skirt. Like an automatic DVD player, her chin lifted, and she walked with her usual steps. Her thoughts were intense as she walked to the beginning of the street where she would get a keke to her house.

No matter how nice they all seemed, she knew how they felt about her. Was she not a single mother after all? They must be wondering about her past, with smiling faces as a cover. She did not blame them, neither did she hold a grudge against them. She had once been like that -- shallow -- until she'd seen the different shades of life. Now she walked with her head held high, a mystery and awe to her church members, nothing more than a pretty woman to the people she passed by on the road, and a single mother that some individuals shook their heads at in private when they saw her and Hannah together.

Whatever they wanted to think, let them think. Whatever made them sleep at night. They did not need to know her depths, they certainly may never know it.

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Hey, hey, hey. How was the chapter? 

Me I don't like intruding Pastors oo, but it seems like this one had a reason to intrude. 😏

Anyways, thanks for the 500 plus reads. I see y'all.

Please color that star orange! In layman's terms: Vote abeg, 😪 and comment. These things keep me going. 😻
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