MY FAMILY AND OUR LOCAL CHURCH

I know that some of us here are church members, or even workers. Yes I'm one of y'all, but that's no what this post is about. Actually I finished this post already but the fucking app I used to type just decided to frustrate me this afternoon. How can I be funny twice with one post? How?

But I promise you the first one might have been funnier. But then you won't know because you didn't read it. Nice one WPS!

The story is actually about my local church. If you're like me and grew up in the village, then you should know those churches that almost all the families claim that their ancestors were the founding fathers.

For me I grew up hearing my grandmother and my dad constantly point out how my grandfather built the church. How he'd leave his own thatch house leaking while he goes to hold together the church pillars whenever it rains so it wouldn't fall.

It was ironic though because I was also taught that it's the most high that builds his church. So I guess my grandfather was my church's 'most high'.

My family was really prominent in the church and one of them was my aunt who was the church treasurer. She was a market woman who was always feisty and outspoken. She "knew" way too much about way too many people.

Whenever it was time for the church audit, my aunt will always go missing in church. Then one day the pastor decided to take everyone unawares for the audit. After service, me and my siblings and cousins decided to wait behind because my aunt never lacks drama.

After proper scrutiny, it was observed that there were discrepancies in the accounts and when my aunt was asked, her reply was "the church used it". Everyone was shocked because they knew it wasn't possible.

After being pressed more my aunt explained that "the Bible says that we're the church, so I as the church used it. I'll only return it when I have it". That seemed to settle it as every grumpy voice were only given a glance by my aunt and they all seemed to retreat into their caves, including my pastor. Whatever he had on all of them must've been really powerful because till today 'the church' hasn't returned the money.

Then there was my father who was famously called "the purple" (his father's name was Yellow). He was the undisputed church grammarian. Unfortunately for our student pastor who was sent to our church for his IT, he was to find that out the harsh way. Truth be told, I wasn't sorry for him, because showoff always has a way of biting back.

It was during a Bible study session that our student pastor decided to show us how proficient he is with English. It's understandable that you don't understand the native language, but there's basic English to use. But no, his showoff self decided to show forth. All these while we were observing my dad smiling and shaking his head.

Little did our student pastor know that he was digging his grave. When it was time for questions, he noticed us laughing and looking for pens and books when my dad raised his hand. Perhaps out of curiosity, he pointed at him. Ahan! So much for digging your grave and choosing the undertaker.

The next thing we heard was "It's quite flippant the conundrum you've just extrapolated in the unsuspecting subconscious of these innocent geriatrics. The mishmash you've contrived with the holy scriptures has only left a miasmic lacuna in their brain, leaving them gander. Contrition can only indemnify so much for your peccant demeanor"

For 3 minutes our student pastor stood there looking lost and confused. I know that just like us, he was oblivious of what my dad had just said. In his head, he must have been wondering what he had done to warrant such an outburst.

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