I sat on the front pew the usher had directed me to, my hands folded tightly in my lap. The polished wooden bench felt harder than usual, or maybe it was just my mood. Around me, the church buzzed with the fading echoes of the special program-chairs scraping the tiled floor, murmured conversations, the rustling of handbags as people prepared to leave.
My mum had texted me earlier that I must attend her church program, after sending the banner to me on my WhatsApp, which I ignored, as my mind wandered to it, I unlocked my phone to check what the program I am already attending is about, 'Singles Deliverance prayer' what?! I can't believe I am here to be delivered from being single even when I am certainly not.
This had gone far beyond obedience. It was somewhere between guilt and the emotional manipulation my mother had mastered over the years, earlier that day, she had practically cornered me.
"You must come," she said over the phone, her voice firm in the way that meant she had already decided for both of us. " The pastor said today will be powerful."
I rolled my eyes "the pastor" hmph!
I deliberated on telling her about my date with Richard but I decided against it, I don't want to answer ridiculous questions.
"Please," she said suddenly, her tone softening into something that sounded almost like begging. "Just come. For me."
I stared blankly at pastor Jeff prancing on the podium preaching about whatever- I tuned him out, " oh, how I wish he would just fall off that podium and die" I muttered, " I am in the church I shouldn't have such thoughts" I thought to myself.
The program finally ended with a loud "Amen" from the congregation. People began rising from their seats, some stretching, others chatting excitedly about the prayers and prophecies they had received.
I was already reaching for my bag when my mother appeared beside me.
"Wait," she said.
I paused. "For what?"
Her face carried that hopeful look I had seen so many times growing up.
"I asked Pastor Jeff and a few prayer leaders to pray specially for you."
My stomach dropped.
"Mom…"
"It will only take a few minutes."
Of course it would.
I pulled out my phone and typed quickly.
I'm so sorry, Richard. I won't be able to make it. It's already 5 p.m.
I stared at the screen for a moment before pressing send.
The message delivered instantly.
No reply.
A strange heaviness settled in my chest.
A few minutes later, Pastor Jeff approached with two church women trailing behind him. My mother stood proudly to the side, like a parent watching a graduation ceremony.
"Daughter," Pastor Jeff said warmly, "your mother told us you need special prayers."
I forced a tight smile.
"Please kneel down," he said.
I hesitated.
My mother gave me that familiar look-the one that said don't embarrass me.
Slowly, reluctantly, I knelt on the cold tiled floor.
Pastor Jeff began to pray loudly, his voice rising and falling dramatically.
"Father, we break every spirit of delay! Every spirit hindering this daughter from marriage—"
The women behind him shouted, "Amen!"
My head throbbed.
Then Pastor Jeff reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of olive oil.
I froze.
He uncapped it and began sprinkling it over my head.
Cold droplets slid down my scalp.
Something inside me snapped.
"Stop!" I shouted, jerking backward. "Stop!"
The suddenness of my voice echoed through the nearly empty sanctuary. Conversations around the church halted.
Pastor Jeff blinked in confusion.
"Daughter…."
"I said stop!"
My heart pounded so violently it felt like it might burst through my chest.
"I am tired of this!" I said, my voice shaking. "Tired of all of this!"
The room had gone completely silent.
"I'm tired of pretending that everything is fine," I continued, my hands trembling as years of buried anger rose to the surface. "Tired of people acting like prayer is the solution to everything while ignoring what really happens in this place."
My mother looked alarmed.
"Sweetheart…"
"No," I said, turning toward her. "You wanted a special prayer, right? Well maybe everyone here should hear the truth first."
The words sat heavy in my throat.
But once they started, they refused to stop.
"In case anyone wants to know," I said, my voice cracking, "Pastor Jeff harassed me…"
The air seemed to leave the room all at once.
The two women behind him gasped.
Pastor Jeff's face drained of color.
My mother looked like someone had slapped her.
"What?" she whispered.
I turned to my mother" Yes, the day I was waiting for you after church service, he called me to his office and touch me with his disgusting hands!" I said, everyone gasped
I laughed bitterly, I couldn't control the tears as they stream down my face
My mother stared at Pastor Jeff, her mouth slightly open, as if her mind refused to process what she had just heard.
"Why are you saying this?" Pastor Jeff said quickly, his voice defensive now. "The devil is trying to…."
"Don't," I snapped. "Don't you dare blame the devil."
The words came out louder than I intended.
"You know exactly what you did."
No one spoke.
I wiped angrily at the tears streaming down my face.
"For years," I said quietly, "I kept quiet because I thought no one would believe me."
My eyes flicked toward my mother.
"And honestly… I wasn't sure you would either, but now, I don't even care!"
Her face crumpled.
"I didn't know," she whispered.
I couldn't stand there anymore.
I grabbed my bag and walked quickly down the aisle. The massive wooden doors felt miles away.
By the time I reached the parking lot, my vision was blurred with tears.
I fumbled with my keys before finally unlocking my car and sliding into the driver's seat. My hands shook so badly I had to try twice before the engine started.
The church building loomed in my rearview mirror.
I pulled out of the lot without looking back.
Years of silence, years of pretending, years of having to relive my trauma
My phone buzzed in the passenger seat.
Incoming call- Mum
I ignored it, I do not want to hear anything from her, not blame nor blackmail, I am done!