“I just want to testify of God’s goodness to me.” When Funke started her testimony that Sunday morning, congregants leaned forward in their seats, eager for a blood-curdling tale that would strike fear in the hearts of hearers. Perhaps, she’d walked away from a six-car pileup without a scratch or she escaped getting her eyebrows singed off by a kitchen explosion caused when she spilled the palm oil she’d been frying unto the stove. Or thieves raided her home but gave their lives to Christ right in her living room!

“I tell you, had the Lord not been on my side, I would not be here today,” Funke continued, “He delivered me from the mouth of the noisome pestilence.” Though they didn’t care for her King James diction, the assembly was salivating. ‘It had to be huge,’ they thought, ‘this testimony that required so much preamble.’ Traditionally, if you have something heavy to impart, you first soften the ground with levity. Perhaps, Sister Funke found a husband, since she was going on thirty. That would be a mighty miracle, indeed. Perhaps, it was that guy that accompanied her to Brother Dave’s birthday celebration last month. What an amazing breakthrough!

Sister Funke broke into song, “when I think of the goodness of Jesus…” The congregants reluctantly joined in expecting their reward at song’s end. The guy must have died. And then rose again, the third day, or perhaps the fourth? The tenth?

“Help me praise the Lord!” Sister Funke concluded triumphantly. She swished back to her seat in her yellow lace lined with white nylon oblivious of the daggers aimed at her from the brethren. They raised their upper lips in derision, ‘mtchew.’ ‘Another testimoaning,’ they thought – a moaning about this and that but no substance. Her friend, Kemi, narrowed her eyes and spent the rest of the service reconstructing Funke’s recent history and devising ways to get the real story.

This is what Kemi got.

Staring thirty in the face, Funke was desperate. She jumped for joy when she met Kehinde at a social conference. He was single, well, divorced, employed, and heterosexual. ‘What, where have you been all my life?’ she mused.

It was kismet. He asked, “Have you been in this town all these years?” She simpered. They had their first date. He met her mom. She met his sister. They built a house together for Habitat for Humanity.

There was only one fly in the ointment. Kehinde wanted sex. Funke loved God. Every time he asked, she prayed. Soon, he couldn’t take it anymore. They set a date for their marriage.

She wore a light blue dress that made her look ten years younger. He wore a pin-striped suit. The clerk asked for two photo IDs each. They produced only three. “Sorry, the court requires two photo IDs each or we won’t join you in marriage.” No amount of pleading or cajoling worked.

He turned to her, “you stupid fool! Why would you forget to bring two photo IDs? After all, you claim to be educated and you’ve been in this country for a while now…” He laid out her life history all the way home.

She crawled out of the car and the relationship clutching at the tatters of her self-esteem.

#abiadegboye.com

#finesisistestimony