If Love Can Defy All Odds, What Excuse Does Hatred Have?
… PAST…
Adekunle Aduke’s dry, husky voice made her the envy of… No one. It was just a topping to her generally unlikable self.
Who would like the community whore? And to make matters worse, Aduke reveled in being disliked.
Once her peculiar voice was heard miles away, mothers would draw their children aside, shut their doors and windows and hope that Aduke would not knock on their doors.
She knew this which is why she sometimes chose those exact moments to send special greetings to her customers.
“Mr. Godswill, you were amazing last weekend, very much better than Uncle Tope despite the age difference … Hope you men are taking care of your wives?”
Her laughter would not have died off before the expected arguments and fights would start in the affected homes.
Aduke only switched on her sing song voice when she was working at sweet mouthing a man into doing things her way or trying to put on a show that she really cared about her daughter.
“Lolooooo…”
Lolo rolled her eyes. She was this close to getting into dream land and her mum just had to spoil it. Why did she have to always spoil things?
It was the weekend. Another man would be gracing their home and forcing fake pleasantries at her while waiting to pounce on Aduke’s free but expensive goods. I mean, anyone could have the goods but even Lolo knew it was hard work trying to put up with the varieties of men she serviced. So, expensive was just about right.
With her mum’s sing song call coming earlier than usual, this weekend’s candidate knew something about punctuality or maybe he just wanted to get in early enough to eat.
“Lolooooo… You really should come meet…”
Lolo plugged in her earphones, tuning off her mother’s all too sweet, caries inducing voice. Candidate 2012Xyz-?Name would have to wait. Besides, if he did not meet her, no harm done.
By Sunday morning, he would be gone, Adekunle Aduke would drag Lolo along to the church just around the corner where they would confess their sins, Monday would fly to Friday and… Back to square one.
Lolo’s father died while preaching. She was only six years old but she was not going to quickly forget the screeching noise from the microphone as it hit the floor. The congregation was hellishly silent in the first few seconds, stunned to the highest heavens. And after those serene seconds, all hell was let loose. Elders gathering round him, praying, speaking in tongues, binding the spirit of death or were they loosening it off him?
Pastor Mrs Adekunle sat still, watching with unseeing eyes. Her husband had not been sick. He had not complained about anything that morning, not even a headache. He had winked at her while preaching. And now? He was dead. When her eyes finally found focus, she walked out the church door and did not look back. Not even to search out her only child.
They relocated from West to North. And started a new life that included church just for routine sake. Aduke would dance with all her might during praise sessions and snore with just about the same might all through the sermon.
This went on for eight years. Eight solid years, Lolo lived in the shadows, living her life as she pleased, watching her mother sink farther into the mire she had created and realising each day that she did not exist, at least, not to her mother.
Then Lolo’s mother met him and things changed.
Her mother went out for an altar call.
Got baptized in water and in the Holy Ghost.
Became a firebrand member of his church.
A year later, they were married.
Just like that, Adekunle Aduke was a Pastor Mrs once again.
