Sunday,February 16, 2014
To Do List
- 1.Survive church
- Lunch
- Braid Sarfoa’s hair
- Iron for school
- Study
- Who wants to be rich
- Study
I was working on the Sudoku puzzle Chidi had given me on Friday. I was sitting on the last pew in the church so there was no danger of anyone seeing me and giving me stares of disapproval. Stares that spoke louder than any words they could utter. Stares that said, “As the pastor’s daughter I should know better” or “As the pastor’s daughter I should set a better example”.
Even though I was on the last pew and the chances of anyone sitting by me were zero, because it was the second service—the Twi service, which was usually attended by the very older people and they needed no prompting to fill the front pews—I still hid the paper in my Bible. Unless the person was standing right over me, they’d think I was just reading my Bible, underlining stuff or writing stuff in the margins.
I shut the Bible with a snap when someone slipped into the pew beside me. My fake smile was plastered onto my face as I turned. It was just Chidi. He was in a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His hair was in an afro. He had a Bible and notebook in his hand.
The service leader asked that we get up and welcome each other. I got up and offered my hand to Chidi. He ignored it and hugged me. A real hug—not the type where you’re barely touching that church people like so much. A genuine hug like what Dad gives.
Then we mingled and shook hands with the other congregants, a fake smile on my face, a genuine smile on his. I made my way over to where Dad was speaking to a chorister. He smiled and hugged me. He always seemed to be happy to see me in church even though he knew I’d be there. I hugged him back and breathed in his smell.
“Where were you?” Chidi whispered when we got back to our pew and the church secretary began giving the announcements for the coming week.
“When?”
“First service. I looked for you everywhere.”
“In Dad’s office. Studying.”
He looked surprised. “Studying? On a Sunday morning?”
I nodded. “The exams start on the first of April, you know?”
He nodded and said, “I thought you’d be at the first service.”
“I prefer the second service.”
“Why? All the young people were at the first service. There were even some people from school. We’re the only ones below forty here.”
I shrugged and went back to the puzzle.
He looked at what I was doing. “You prefer the second service because no one from school is here.”
“It doesn’t really matter. I don’t believe anymore.”
“Don’t believe what?”
“God. Life after death. All this,” I said taking in the whole church with my hands, “I come for my dad. He doesn’t know I don’t believe anymore. It would hurt him.”
“When did you stop?”
“Last year.”
“After your sister died?”
I looked at him, nodded, and dared him to say something. He didn’t. He just sat back and read his notes from the first service.
“Where’s your dad?” I asked when it was obvious he wasn’t going to say anything.
“He left after the first service.”
“Why are you here? The second service is entirely in Twi.”
He looked at me with those golden-brown eyes and shook his head like the reason was so obvious and I wasn’t getting it.
“The sermon’s about to begin,” he said as Dad went behind the pulpit. I picked up my pencil and went back to the puzzle.
With Chidi by my side, I couldn’t run back to Dad’s office when the service was over. I remained in the pew at the back and waved when people waved or got up and greeted them when they came close to me. Dad was by one of the front exits, greeting and exchanging pleasantries with church members. There hadn’t been any first-timers.
Sarfoa came up from the Sunday school and stood by Dad, smiling and shaking hands and being entirely cute. When she saw me, she let go of Dad’s hand and ran into the church, straight to where I was sitting.
“Your hair’s just like mine,” she said to Chidi.
I should have known Sarfoa wouldn’t have been that excited to see me.
“Yeah, except I don’t have a hairband with a blue and white bow.”
“Gyikua put it in because my hair wouldn’t lie down. My mummy doesn’t want me to relax it like all my friends. I want my hair to lie down.”
“I think it’s beautiful like this,” Chidi said, smoothing it. “It’s like cotton. Like black cotton.”
Sarfoa didn’t look impressed.
“You haven’t seen a cotton plant before, have you?”
She shook her head. “I want my hair to lie down, the same like everybody’s.”
Chidi wrinkled his nose. “I hate being the same as everybody. I think it’s nicer to be different. Can you imagine if all the dogs in the world were black? Or if all the cats were white? Or if . . .”
“Or if all the butterflies were yellow?” Sarfoa asked.
“Exactly, that wouldn’t be nice would it?”
Sarfoa shook her head. “No, it’s nicer when everything is different.”
“It’d be nicer if we all didn’t have the same hair too, right?” Sarfoa nodded.
“You look nice and different with your afro hair.” Sarfoa giggled, “Daddy says I look like a lion.”
Chidi cocked his head, considering, “He’s right, you do look like a lion with all that hair.”
Sarfoa looked so pleased that I thought she’d hug Chidi.
“Ready for lunch?” Dad asked walking up to us.
I nodded and picked up my Bible and purse.
“Chidi, you’re welcome to join us. Have you had fufu yet? Ghanaian fufu? We’re going to a local restaurant not too far from here,” Dad said. It was his turn to pick a place.
“Thanks. Yes, my dad and I had some last week.”
That was news to me. I thought all he ate were dessert foods.
“Okay, let’s get going,” Dad said leading the way out.
“Onco Ampofo? Can Gyikua ride with me? To show me the way? I mean in case . . . um . . . I get stuck at a red light and lose you?”
Dad looked at me. I shrugged. “Okay. How about you Sarfoa?”
Sarfoa shook her head. “I’ll go with you. Can I sit in front?” Dad shook his head.
“No. What did we say about sitting in front?” he asked Sarfoa, then he turned to me, “You guys go ahead, I have to pick up some things from the office. Order palm soup for me with smoked fish and garden eggs.”
“I want groundnut soup, wele, fish, crab and two meats,” Sarfoa said, following Dad.