Madame Victorine Mahfouz held the church in apprehension. As she boarded her sleek car for Westlands, thoughts flitted through her mind. The Christian wedding, which was precursor to the marriage certificate, approved the well -to- do as better Christians than the poor. In many cases, the ceremony transformed an adulterer into a deacon, a slut into a marriage counsellor and brute into an honourable saint.
She recalled Jane’s wedding. Having been friends the previous seven years, Madame knew Jane. She had cohabited with six men and abandoned them for their poverty. Yet in her wedding, they had cheered and revered the spiritual blessing upon her. The pomp that had adorned the event erased the grievous errors of her person and the pastor had sizzled with praise for her.
Madame Victorine herself had harvested matchless glory as the chief sponsor of the ‘spiritual’ event. In a black thigh- length skirt, white blouse and as sparkling blonde wig, she had strolled piously behind the lovely Jane. The milling cars, roaring trumpets and crashing cymbals created a pious atmosphere and the couple had become angels in heaven. The pastor had not hesitated to note the dazzling luxury that engulfed the two women. More so, the sexy and sophisticated looks of Mme Victorine had moved him. She remembered it so clearly. Even as he preached, Aluta, the aforesaid clergy, kept stealing glances to her. She had responded and the clergyman had smiled at her.
Mesmerized by ‘God’s blessings upon her, Aluta had made persistent efforts to establish a rapport with Mme after the wedding. Honestly, Mme Victorine had ignored his calls. She had misled thousands of men but she had not touched the ‘men of God.’ She had some mysterious fear for this supernatural being. Nevertheless, she doubted the credibility of some like Aluta. She wished he made the slightest advance now.
She clinked into her compound with the sleek BMW and turned the television on. He searched through the channels and a familiar portrait struck her sight. She paused and there he was. Aluta was teaching about the keys to prosperity. The message exploded via a pleasant baritone and lucid oratory.
“There is no other key”, he roared and proceeded “there is no new truth but giving. Do you want to prosper? Abraham only prospered after giving to Melchizedek. He got descendants only after he gave his only son; a giving Christian is a prosperous Christian. A stingy Christian is a miserable Christian. Look at the church today! Why are Christians poorer than pagans are? The answer is simple: the pagans give, the church is mean! God’s principle is one; whosoever giveth receiveth. It does not matter whether he’s a Christian or not?”
“It reminds me of an experience I had in church. A young man came to me one day. He was a graduate but never used to give tithe. Consequently, poverty ate him up. His fiancée could not stand it. She fled. A ha, ha! What do you expect? The Bible says that a rich man has many friends but a poor man losses even those few he has. And he complained to me. My answer was simple, ‘Give and you will be rich; girls will run after you,’
“I rarely compromise with misers!” He thundered, “God is very just. If you don’t give, never expect much from Him. Compare this miser to this lady who came to church. She was not saved. She was clad in a mini and it provoked criticism from ‘the heavenly bound.’ A ha! But see what? She single handily sponsored a wedding a week later! Good heavens, God blesses such souls. I made a follow up after a fortnight and got amazed to discover chains of business enter prices in her name”.
Madame Victorine smirked.
