CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT: SUNDAY FEELINGS
"Shut up, Morayo!" I hissed, pushing her face away from my ear as she leaned too close while whispering something mischievous.
"I knew it!" she replied, her tone quiet, but the smile on her face betrayed her amusement. She leaned back, pretending innocence.
I turned my attention to Samuel, who had been quietly observing the exchange between Morayo and me. He looked curious, his brow slightly raised. "You know each other from home?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"No, we met here and became friends," I replied carefully, not wanting to add unnecessary details or sound evasive.
"Oh…" he said, smiling faintly, looking away for a moment before returning his gaze to me.
"How old are you?" he asked, his curiosity evident.
"Nine. I am nine years old," I answered almost immediately, a small chuckle escaping me at his expression.
"Already nine, or are you about to clock ten?" he asked, surprised, as if my age was unusual for someone in J.S.S. One.
"Already nine," I confirmed, giggling lightly at his surprise.
"Wow! You are super young to be in J.S.S. One. Did you do Primary Six?" he asked, trying to understand how I ended up in the class at such a young age.
"I didn't do Primary Six," I explained patiently. "My school doesn't have a Primary Six. When you reach Primary Five, you cover both Primary Five and Six studies."
"No wonder… but doing both in just three terms must have been brain-cracking," he said, a hint of concern on his face.
"No, it was quite easy because I already covered some of the Primary Five work in Primary Four leisure classes," I replied, slightly proud of my early progress. His eyes widened in silent surprise.
"Oh… okay," he said, and then looked away for a moment. "I'm actually two years older than you," he added, before glancing at me again.
"Eleven? You must be eleven!" I exclaimed, quickly calculating in my head.
"Yeah!" he confirmed with a nod, smiling faintly.
He was about to say something else when an usher barged in, cutting our conversation short. She warned us firmly not to talk again. I felt a mix of relief and annoyance. Relief, because she didn't make me stand up like some students—imagine the embarrassment in front of the whole congregation! Annoyance, because my discussion with Samuel had barely begun, and now it was interrupted.
Before I could dwell on it, the special number activities concluded, and various other activities followed—hymns, separate choir ministrations for the junior and senior students, and the reading of the Bible text before the sermon began.
"Urgh!" Morayo groaned loudly as the church coordinator climbed the pulpit once again.
"Praise the Lord!" he announced cheerfully, raising his hands as the congregation echoed, "Hallelujah!"
"Let's stand up to pray," he instructed, before starting a worship song.
"I knew it… can't he just tell us to bow our heads instead of standing on our aching feet?" Morayo complained, groaning as she reluctantly stood up.
"So, you can sleep while bowing your head, ba?" Victoria asked sharply, standing beside her. Her tone carried a playful edge, teasing Morayo.
I couldn't help but laugh at Victoria's remark.
"You are talking as if you won't sleep as well!" Morayo said defensively.
"Me? Sleep? In your dreams!" Victoria retorted immediately, recalling all the times Morayo tried to nudge her to sleep during prayer.
"There is no need to remind you," Morayo muttered, glancing away toward the pulpit, trying to ignore Victoria's sarcasm. "But all I know is that you have fallen asleep while bowing your head for prayer—not even once, but multiple times!"
"When? Where? How? Which time?" Victoria whispered, shocked by the accusation, her voice barely audible over the murmur of the congregation.
Morayo ignored her and focused on the prayer, bowing her head as she listened intently. I noticed Victoria's eyes following her, the frustration clear in her expression. I wondered why she was taking it so personally. Perhaps she felt Morayo was misrepresenting her, or maybe she just didn't like being called out. Either way, I decided it wasn't worth commenting on and quietly turned my attention back to the sermon.
After the prayer, the church coordinator instructed everyone to return to their seats. As the sermon commenced, I tried to focus, though my attention was partially caught by a group of students in hijabs passing by the chapel window.
"The Muslims always finish earlier than us," Morayo complained, dragging her words.
"You can go outside and join them," I said dryly, not understanding her frustration. Was she here just to complain, or was she genuinely interested in the blessings of the service?
Victoria, sensing my irritation at Morayo's constant complaints, leaned slightly toward me. "Shake my hand, jare," she said, her smile softening the tension. I reached out, shaking her hand, though I was a little confused by the sudden gesture.
"How did you know what I wanted to say?" she asked with a teasing smile before releasing my hand. Turning toward Morayo, her voice took on a harsher edge. "You can leave if you know you are uncomfortable staying here."
Morayo sighed, ignoring the warning. "Someone cannot complain again like that," she muttered under her breath, clearly annoyed but unwilling to back down.
"You can complain, but not in a way that doesn't make sense," Victoria said firmly, crossing her arms.
I couldn't help but chuckle quietly to myself. My own complaints earlier about not being allowed to gossip during the service, or finding the Chapel boring, suddenly felt small in comparison. Even I had to admit, everyone had the right to like or dislike certain things—but it was all about how you expressed it.
As the sermon continued, I tried to focus fully, letting the words sink in. I glanced at Samuel occasionally, noticing how attentively he listened, his posture straight and respectful. For a moment, I wondered what it would be like if everyone in the Chapel paid such close attention. Maybe Morayo and Victoria's occasional complaints were just normal reactions, but I decided it was better to concentrate on the lessons being taught than to get distracted by the small arguments and minor annoyances around me.
The sermon flowed with teachings that made me think about responsibility, respect, and patience. Each story the church coordinator told seemed to resonate differently with each student. I saw some nodding along, some taking notes, and others, like Morayo, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, balancing between restlessness and interest.
I realized that Sunday in the Chapel wasn't just about listening to the word of God —it was a lesson in observing, interacting, and understanding the different personalities around me. Everyone had their own way of experiencing worship, and that was okay. Some would stand quietly, some would dance, some would complain, and some would sit quietly and reflect. And somewhere in the middle of it all, I was finding my own rhythm, learning, and even starting to enjoy the chaotic harmony of it all.