That Sunday

Fiifi slammed the door and tossed his bag across the room. Exhausted from a long day’s work, he yanked off his shoes and socks and settled into the recliner by his bedside.

Almost immediately his phone rang. He groaned inwardly as he glanced at the screen. It was Zac from work. He knew what the call was going to be about; Zac wanted to know whether he would come out for drinks later that night. Frankly he was tired and exhausted, and he’d be damned if he said it out loud, but drinking with the boys no longer did it for him. He knew he’d pick up the call and go eventually, but deep down he didn’t want to.

He used to enjoy it all, but lately nothing seemed to fill the hollow in his chest. Not the slow burn of the alcohol, not the loud hum of Burna’s voice blasting through his speakers, not even Afia’s bedroom antics. Nothing. Rather, the yawning feeling in his chest had just gotten wider & wider, enough to engulf all the things that used to give him pleasure. These things no longer distracted him from the numerous thoughts that were wedged at the back of his mind, clamouring for space at the front.

Except that one time…

He shook his head as he tried to forget. He had no interest in feeding that thought or giving it an audience. Thinking about it too much would validate it, and as far as he was concerned, it was probably all in his head.

His headphones lodged precariously on his head, he put his afrobeat playlist on auto shuffle and pulled out his laptop to play a quick round of the new betting game Lanre had put him on.

“I no go fi take your insult ooo…” Burna crooned as Fiifi bopped his head to the jam he’d rinsed too many times before. But loud as the music was and try as he might, he couldn’t push the thought he’d been avoiding down. That one time he’d felt a peace he didn’t think he’d ever feel.

He gazed into space as the memory tried to force its way to the forefront of his mind. It was a Sunday. Church wasn’t his thing. It’d never really been his thing. When he was younger, his grandma had forced him to go. Every Sunday without fail. All he could remember was how long and boring the services were, and the cold ice-cream Nanna always bought him after service, licking his parched throat. Yeah, the ice-cream was definitely the highlight of church back then.

As he grew older he decided to stop going altogether. He had too many questions and too few answers. He could think of so many other things he could do with his Sunday morning, least of them being praying for long hours to a God he wasn’t even sure existed.

He scoffed as the memory continued to unravel in his mind. So what if he felt peace that one Sunday? Was that supposed to make up for all the unaddressed pain, confusion and anger he’d felt over the years? Where was God when his dad died instantly in a car crash? Where was he when so many people around him were falling sick and dealing with one tragedy after the other? Did he ever bother to listen when he called on him in times of stress and for help? Nah. He decided that such a God didn’t exist, and if He did, Fiifi wanted no parts of him.

So why couldn’t he shake this nagging feeling he’d been having ever since that Sunday? It was a few weeks ago and he’d gone just to stop his grandma from her incessant berating. “Fiifi whether you like it or not you are a child of God o! You have to go to church.” she would state vehemently. Every Sunday without fail, even though Fiifi’s answer was always the same. “Next time Nanna.”

But that particular Sunday, he randomly decided to go. After all, what would it hurt? That Sunday was meant to be like every other Sunday from his childhood, save for the ice-cream part – he was too old for that now. Except it wasn’t. He couldn’t place his finger on what it was, but that Sunday was different.

He’d been scrolling mindlessly through his phone, counting down the seconds till the service ended. He was bored out of his mind and he wondered why people even bothered. “Beloved, God sees you, and He knows you by name!!” The preacher boomed into the mic. He rolled his eyes mentally. Whatever. “He never left you. He’s been there all along” Rev. Kusi droned on.

He scoffed.

“Okay God”, he thought to himself. “Humour me. If you really see me then show me that you see me. I know it’s too much to ask, but let’s put this to rest once and for all so I can prove to you that you’re a fraud.”

Obviously, he didn’t actually expect anything to happen. And for a while, nothing did. Until service ended and a man he didn’t recognise walked straight up to him, placed his hand on his shoulder, looked him right in the eye and said “Son, God does see you. He always has. And deep down, you know it.” He gave him a quick smile, and almost as suddenly as he came, he turned and left.

Fiifi blinked in shock for a few seconds. What had just happened? As he pondered over it, something clicked in that moment and Fiifi felt a strange sensation in his chest. Like a peace that ebbed and washed over him. It was such a calming, albeit fleeting feeling. Kind of like an assurance. Although, he was contemplating if he’d imagined the whole thing.

He had never felt that way before, and till date, he was yet to feel that way again. But he did his best to push that memory out of his mind because deep down, he knew that he’d had some kind of encounter with God in a way he couldn’t explain and that was precisely what bothered him about it. The fact that he couldn’t explain it. It was why he hadn’t told a soul about that moment. It was also why he tried hard to pretend it never happened. Acknowledging that experience meant acknowledging that he believed that there was in fact a God, and he was afraid to entertain that thought.

“What’s stopping you son?”

He jerked up from the recliner, the voice jolting him out of his reverie. Startled, his eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of that audible voice he’d just heard. Did he really just hear that or was he dreaming ?

Was that …? No. It couldn’t be haha. “I must be losing my mind” he laughed to himself.

“What’s stopping you? Come to me.” This time, it was like a gentle whisper in his mind, sure but true. He definitely didn’t imagine that. Fiifi paused the music and took off his headphones. God…is that really you? Silence.

He heaved a deep sigh. “Okay, you have my attention. Where do I start from? How do I come to you? What does that even mean?”

Still nothing.

Reluctantly, he got on his knees, awkwardly silent for a few minutes not knowing what exactly to do or say at first. And then he opened his mouth, and for the next fifteen minutes Fiifi prayed to God like he never had before. And as he did, that same sensation from that Sunday washed over him.

Finally, Fiifi was home.