One could easily spot me at the back seat of the 18 sitters bus conveying passengers heading towards south west. With my obviously painted face and gorgeous hair, right on my laps wass a portable traveling bag which contain dresses specially designed to suit my taste from the creative fashion house of purity couture, my best designer, just sufficient for the two weeks Christmas/new year break. I fixed my sunshade back into its position , though inside the bus, that was just the only means I could announce my arrival.
Obviously, I am really set for the coolest moments this Xmas period. Jerking back, like one who remembered something most important, I picked up my smartphone and flipped to Jumia app, to explore different designer shoes, bags and other accessories which can perfectly match with each of my dresses. It was totally an omission, as I have been so engrossed in the choosing of the styles of dresses, that I forgot other accessories while preparing for this trip. It took a while for me to select the ones of my taste from Jumia store and ordered with my home address in Ibadan, definitely I would be home before the delivery date, I muttered to myself.
Just after some moments of gross thinking and imaginations of the outings, foods and drinks awaiting me during Christmas, I suddenly switched into a sane mood, like one faced with reality of life. While still sitted in the bus, My mind went back on a tour to the horrible event during the last Xmas celebration.
I felt a river of water, quickly found its source in my iris, dropping like a heavy rain down my cheeks. I couldn’t control the tears as I reach out for my handkerchief, Just before anyone could notice my cry.
Last Christmas as it replayed in my mind like a movie been shoot in my head, was a horrible one.
I remember vividly that I made a great decision to give my life to Christ at a Rural Rugged program organized by the fellowship I identified with during my service year. It was a great turn around in my life, as I sorrowfully, but enthusiastically surrendered the remaining deformed part of my life to Christ, after so many years of been lost in all forms of sexual immoralities right from my teenage through my university days. My philosophy of life then was to enjoy it to its fullest when I have the breadth within my throat.
After, the rugged experience, at idoani village in ondo state, I was counselled and prayed for by the state executives who then handed me over to a Spiritually mature sister in the subzonal level of the fellowship, which was not far from my Place of Primary Assignment. Sis Deola as we usually called her was part of the executive staying in the family house as the rules of the fellowship required. Although, she has been on my neck ever since we were welcomed as new Corp members, that I should move in to the family house, of which I gave one excuse or the other for reasons best known to me.
By Odesola Taiwo
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