Diary - MFM kicks me out of church




.....and I suddenly felt like going to church this morning. If you know me very well, this is not really a favorite past time. But for sometime now the way the devil has been fighting, I felt I had to just sneak in humbly and do some penance. The need to go to church was further heightened with my seeming loss of erection or what you would call power failure that has been my lot these past few days. Some say it is the excess Sugar I throw into my system via the six bottle a day coke habit, the others say it is old age slowly creeping in. Whatever the reason, I felt that this was enough cogent reason to take the war to our Lord to fight for me. I cannot loose this 'power' not at this age and at this time.

So I jumped into my car and drove towards the MFM Headquarters located in Yaba. As usual parking was hectic and I had to park a good distance from the church blocking other serious members of the Church and assuring the Ushers that 'I won't be more than five minutes, I swear'. This was prophetic as I truly did not spend up to five minutes, they did not allow me enter o.

As I strolled towards the main gate, I proceeded to remove the accessories that usually annoy the ushers in this church. I pulled my river Island beaded hand bangles, my Michael Koss Gold Bangle and my sterling Silver chain with satan nailed to the cross which hung dutifully from my neck and rests comfortably on my chest. This chain in particular I knew would rile the gatekeepers of the Lords house so I pulled everything and had only my torn Kanye West 'secret life of Pablo' inspired green River Island Tshirt. I just bought it o and it cost a small fortune . My Old Navy pink shorts with beautiful white straps hanging loosely but sexily down my waist and matched it off with my black Gucci loafers completing my humble Jesus look.

Confidently I approached the House of the Lord, looking very meek and humble as I moved but intermittently touching my crotch to see if there was any sign of life. But the thing remained limp and lifeless. My mother had once told me that anxiety could cause it and that I should remove my mind and think of something else. So today I thought of King Solomon and his many wives wondering if he ever had power failure and if he did how he came over it. But then something in me now cautioned me that of all the problems I was facing in life from the continuous wahala with the Grinch at Work, my financial problems, my inability to produce a second edition of my Magazine, my struggle with School fees and my Father in laws passing it was power failure that finally brought me to church. This showed my true essence, the greatness in my being which made me nod my head and acknowledge the fact that I was truly an essentric Gafa.

I was suddenly brought to earth with a gentle touch of a black hand on my chest. I looked up and saw this not very good looking gentleman in front of me with a sweet smile. He said I could not enter. I looked at him with shock, was it my wrist watch? It was Gold but then again it was a watch. He said it was the shorts. My River Island shorts? The one I saw on david Beckham and which inspired me to hide that $150 in my underpants throughout the eight hour flight from Dallas to the UK to buy. The one that made me almost walk naked in the shop when they could not find my size. The one that I have been wearing for the last four days without pulling, is now the one that is making these people, stop me from seeking everlasting solution to my power failure.

I looked at this baba with strong curiosity. It could not be about these shorts. This man just did not like me because I was Akwa Ibom. He was a racist but why would he bring it to church. I tried to explain to the MFM man that this was River Island o, that David Beckham modeled it o. The Baba said that the only David he knew was in the Bible and he did not wear the Shorts. I was tempted to show him the label but something in me thought otherwise he would not know. The Baba did not look like he had ever seen the cover of GQ talk less of opening it. So I pleaded with him, that I had to enter and that I had a major problem I had to talk to the Lord about. He said I should go and change, I said my house was too far and that I had allotted only five minutes for the lord and this argument was eating into the Lords time becuase I was scheduled to see Timi the Printer and did not want to eat into his time. At this point, Baba now ushered me into a seat outside the arena but strategically located near the pulpit where I could at least see the man of God but not near enough to touch his garment which was what was needed to heal me.

But as I was moving towards the chair, he screamed and called me back. What again o. He had just seen my tattoos. Oh God, he had seen my 'zara' tattoo, the one I had put to celebrate my last daughter. At this time he was very sure that this was the Devil himself. As I moved closer, the other tattoos like the David Beckham inspired gothic cross on my right upper arm suddenly came in view and by this time like six other ushers surrounded me with bible in hand and olive oil gently asking me to leave.

They did not even offer to pray for me, they just asked me to leave. I said ok o, I will take my anointing somewherelese. I took it to domino to buy Pizza. Those ones did not mind my shorts or my tattoo, they did not mind that my bow legs were on display they were just after my money.

So my people see the picture attached to this story and let me know if indeed I deserved to be turned back today. But sha, I will try again next year but this time I will either wear something else or go to a living church that would see beyond my shorts but the content of my heart which is to find solution to my power failure. Kai, that is true I still have the problem o, what will I now do.

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Cc lalasticlala

This is totally hilarious. You just killed me with laughter

Between you and that lady wey expose breass last week for the same church I believe na you craze pass.


See your face like person wey chop sheet.

Hehehe

Guy man! next time you are in Rome, please behave like a Roman...

i just love your writing style and sense of humor, you're good. As for the shorts, am not seeing anything bad.. Perhaps the tattoos was the major trigger of such a funny and embarrassing scenario. Pele