African woman

‘Ada, it is not what you think,’ I repeated with imploring eyes as though I was standing before a judge.

‘I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t know you,’ the teenage girl replied in an unfamiliar tone.

Puzzled at her cold response, the scene at the bible study class flashed through my mind again. Then I realized that the girl was merely paying me back in my own coin. while I figured on what to do next, a middle-aged lady emerged and began communicating with the girl in French language. the scales suddenly fell off my eyes, and I discovered to my utter amazement that that girl was not Ada!

‘Wow, your girl looked so much alike like someone in my church,’ I admitted to the middle-aged lady.

‘It’s just so amazing how God created each person with their look-alike,’ the lady replied me.

I heaved a sigh of relief, as I rejoined Chief Mbadiwe.

‘Dabira, sincerely I wouldn’t mind whisking you to my house right away,’ Chief Mbadiwe beamed from ear to ear.

‘I’m somebody else’s future bride,’ I replied with a frank countenance.

‘Overtaking is allowed,’ he laughed mischievously.


Sleep became a scarce commodity for me that night. I was restless but could not attribute my insonomia to anything in particular.

How does it feel when people refused to listen to your explanations? A thought flashed through my mind.

I would feel very hurt, I replied the thought.

Now, can you recall what you to Ada at the bible study class?  the voice became stricter.

I was speechless. Then suddenly, a large screen akin to the type you found in cinemas appeared before me, and I watched a replay of the incidence which took place at the bible study class. I saw the heaviness and redness on Ada’s eyes as she tried to no avail to get my attention with her entreaties, ‘Aunty, please, listen…’

‘Lord, I’m sorry!’ I burst into tears and the screen vanished into the thin air.


Restitution, occupied my mind all through the week. By the time I finally saw Ada in Church, I hugged her passionately as though I had not seen her in ages.

The look of amazement on the girl’s oblong face, made me guilty.  I could only imagine the manner of thoughts going through her mind at that moment.

‘Please, can we talk for few minutes before the service?’ I broke the silence.

She nodded her affirmation as I led her towards the back of the church building.

‘I’m very sorry Ada for not giving you an audience the other time,’ I paused, observing her mood.

‘I’m ready to listen to you now,’ I continued.

Like someone offered a blank cheque, Ada bared her mind in a manner I had never experienced with any of the youths in church.

Her story began a month ago when she got tired of her masturbation habit. Not knowing whom to confide in, she told a friend who advised that the only remedy of curing that act was through pornography. So, coincidentally, the video sent by the friend came in during the bible study class!

‘I’m sorry, aunty Dabira!’ she broke down in tears.

‘That’s okay, my dear,’ I uttered, ‘henceforth Ada, I want you to see me as your friend; feel free to discuss anything with me.’

‘Okay ma,’ she sniffed.

‘Please let’s continue with this discussion after service today,’ I advised, ‘ your problem is half solved now that you’ve realized that masturbation is a sin.’

‘Thank you, aunty Dabira,’ Ada’s face lit with delight, ‘you’re the best!’

‘You’re welcome.’

A new bond grew between us as I held her hands and prayed for her.

On my way to join the ongoing service, one of the Ministers’ whispered to me.

‘Dabira, you are an excellent wife material.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ I replied and moved on.

Everybody calls me a wife material. Lord, when will this material eventually become a finished product? I pondered.





Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.