Testimony Time
A creative non-fiction about the similarities between testimonies and stories — from Faith Amarachi Ekekwe
Testimony time is my favorite part of every church service. I may not listen to anything in church, but once it is testimony time, you have my full attention. Testimonies are like stories and I like stories. I love them actually. The build-up, the analogies, and how it all climaxes leaving the storyteller as a hero of sorts. Testimony time means someone was going to recreate a scene as vividly as they could and if the Leader of Service was feeling jovial and we had enough time, we will hear every bit of the tales: how expertly the driver swerved if it was an accident, how they had to drag out someone’s leg from under the bus after it got stuck to how intimidating the kidnappers looked, if it was a one-chance bus.
I like to listen to Mr. Okolie’s testimonies best. I believe in the Miraculous for sure. It is hard not to but again, my mind does that thing where it tries to make everything into a story. Last week, when Madam Kamsi gave the testimony of how God saved her and her family from an accident along Benin-Asaba road, there were no dry eyes in the church by the time she was done. I even had a tear or two. Such magnificent storytelling skills. I would have applauded this if we were not in the presence of our Maker. The transitions, the proper use of onomatopoeia, the facial expressions, the tone of voice which changed to fit into every scene she painted. If this was a class, she would have left with an A+.
Today Mr. Okolie has submitted his piece of paper and the leader of service has announced that he should get ready for his testimony. I imagine Mr. Okolie is dotting his Is and crossing his Ts: shaking off wrinkles from his shirts, dabbing at his face for sweat and dusting his shoes.. Just last minute preparations as he is about to take the stage.
“Praiiiiisssssseee the Lord!” He goes as soon as he gets the microphone.
“Halleuluuuuuuujah!” The congregation responds.
“If you are happy to be among the living, praisssseeeee the Lord!”
I do not care much for this preamble but it will ultimately lead to what I know is to come. He breaks into a song-
“For what the Lord has done, I will sing alleluia,” ×2
“For what the Lord has done, I will sing alleluia,” ×2
“Sing alleluia unto the Lord.”
Good use of suspense there. You must dangle the carrot before the donkey. Tease them, let them use their imagination before you get into it.
“I don’t even know where to start.” I roll my eyes here.
“Start from anywhere.” The congregation responds, as eager as I am.
“The Lord has been so good to me and my family. He has kept us from January to August and he still continues to preserve and protect us.”He continues.
“Halleluyah” Someone calls from the congregation. Someone who I am guessing wants him to get on with the whole thing.
“It happened last Friday, I just came back from work and I said let me take small fresh air outside, as I usually do to recover from Lagos hustle and bustle. But something kept prodding me to go inside my house. I tried to wave off the voice but I wasn’t at peace again. So I heed to this voice and went inside.”
“Not even up to ten minutes I stepped into my house, I heard a loud noise- gbim! From outside.
He breaks into another song-
“Come and join me sing alleluia, Jehovah Jireh has done me well,
“Come and join me, sign alleluia, Jehovah Jireh has done me well.
“Brethren, the AC hanging above the building I usually sit in once I come back from work has come loose and fell directly on the chair I usually sit in.
“Jesus !” Someone from the congregation screams
“The Devil came late.” Another voice goes.
“I don’t even know what to say. I just stood there staring at this thing and wondering, if I hadn’t gone inside what would have happened to me?”
“What would my wife have done? So people would have asked us where is our God?”
“I am standing before you all today to thank God that I am in the sanctuary and not the mortuary, that God has kept me in the land of the living today and it is not by my power neither is it by my righteousness but it is the Lord’s mercy.”
“A wretched sinner like me and God still shows me mercy every single time. I lie, I quarrel, I backbite, but this faithful God still doesn’t look on my sins but he continues to save me.”
By now there are a few watery eyes, plenty sighs and a lot of introspection going on for people in the congregation. This is the part of reflection. I mean the point of this type of story would be defeated if it doesn’t make you probe yourself and promise to make amends. Of course, most of the promises will be forgotten even before the service is over but for now, the purpose has been achieved. Mr. Okolie is still at the front of the church going on-
“I want to thank this faithful God who never puts me to shame. I call on him once and he answers twice. This God who is too faithful to fail me.
The leader of service signals with a bell. He has been generous enough, time to wrap this up.
“May his name be praised forever and ever. Amen.” Mr. Okolie hands over the microphone and goes back to take his seat.
Faith Amarachi Ekekwe is a Nigerian writer who is obsessed with African literature. Her reading obsession started with Harlequin novels filled with tales of well-chiselled rakes, but later evolved to more familiar narratives. You can catch her on IG @ekekwe_faith sharing mini blogs and book reviews
