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I refuse to feel bad when I am called ‘Old School’ by the young generation. I know that many things are different today from the way they were when I was a young convert. In some areas they are better, and in some, we were better.
In the late seventies, someone knocked at the front door of Bro. Dike’s house in FESTAC Town. He opened the door and beheld a stranger. “I have been going from one apartment to the other, looking for stickers that would help me to identify a fellow child of God, until I found one here. Emma Oloye, a Christian brother, is going to wed this morning in Lekki and he needs a car. Do you have? Can you spare it?” The strange man requested. Dike led him into his sitting room and entered his bedroom. Some minutes after, he came out with his car particulars and key, took him to the car park and handed them over to him. That night, the man returned the car with gratitude. If it were today, that car might not be seen again and Dike would be blamed for carelessness.
In those days, Christian stickers, pasted on the wall of a house or on the car, was a foolproof that the owner was born-again. It brought much joy when such a car was seen on the road. You would wave at the owner and he would also respond joyfully. It was the same with pinups inscribed ‘Jesus saves’ on the neck tie, shirt or blouse for ladies.
A Christian brother, wedding in Ibadan, requested for one of our cars and we obliged him. Not long after, another brother requested also for a car to travel to his village in the Eastern States and we obliged him. Giving out cars was normal but the main concern was for believers to learn to be contented, especially like the man, as he had never owned a car. Was he travelling home to give a false picture of himself or did he need the car really, when public transports were available? At that time, it was not enough to help a fellow child of God, your interest was extended to his spiritual wellbeing.
In 1978, someone knocked at our door and one of my housemaids opened the door for him. “I want to see Bro. Osondu,” he told her. She led him to our living room and came to my bedroom and told me that we had a guest. When I saw him, I asked him whether we had met before. “No sir, Bro. Tony Ewelike gave me your address and told me that if I come to you, you will accommodate me,” he said. “Who are you?” I asked him. “I have just finished my NYSC and I have come to look for a job,” he said. “Which university and what discipline?” I went on. “University of Nigeria, I studied Accountancy,” he said. “So, you are a lion?” I asked with great delight. “Yes,” he answered. “My wife and I are also lions. I read Accountancy too at Enugu Campus,” I told him. His attitude portrayed that he was aware of all these through Tony. I took him to the room, where Bro. John was, a lion also, but from Nsukka Campus, who came to look for a job.
The coming of these two men to our house, who, like us, were members of the Christian Union [CU] of University of Nigeria, brought much warmth to our family devotion. It was really ‘the Church in my house’ affair. When it was close for the birth of our first daughter, Chukwuma left for Tony’s house while I sent John to Dike’s house. In those good days, it was not necessary to plead with any child of God before he would accept such responsibilities assigned to him. The understanding was that the Lord Jesus owned the house and we were His stewards. It was not therefore, a big thing to allow believers, no matter their tribe, to live with you.
The essential requirement for Ify, as a French Language major, included spending some time in a University in France. After doing that, she travelled to London to buy our wedding outfit. A lady, that was to host her and her colleague for a few nights, transferred the responsibility to a man well-known to her. That night, Uncle did his utmost to sleep with them. As they were weeping and praying aloud, the other woman, being married, was more concerned about Ify than for herself. “God, You will not allow this man to defile my chaste sister. You know that her wedding is in December. How can she lose her virginity now?” She prayed. That was Christianity of the Seventies, where brethren were concerned on issues affecting others, more than themselves.
We thank God that Uncle, like magma, cooled down, when the prayer tempo was beyond what he could bear. The only problem was that the two ladies did not close their eyes all through that dark and long night. Early in the morning, they contacted the lady that brought them to that hell-on-earth residence! She took them to her room.
Ify left for Bedford to visit Tunde, my brother, who was doing his M. Sc. in Mechanical Engineering. Achara, our town’s man, Tunde’s classmate, was shocked that a Yoruba man introduced her to him, instead of the other way. It did not matter that Tunde was single. Faithfulness was the order of the day. My roommate and a CU member too in UNN, was slapped, when he toasted a Christian sister. When she reported to brethren, they started calling him, ‘Half brother’.
Our choruses and songs were not for entertainment. They carried the Gospel message, reminding us about Heaven, our eternal home. They were also warnings to sinners for them to repent because of the repercussion of going to hell. There was nothing like body movement. We would be standing almost attention like soldiers, when singing and worshipping.
The Church, someone was attending, was not important then, except prayer houses. Our concern was whether he was born-again as well as his spiritual growth. During a Church programme, brethren from other Churches would be there, more so, if the Guest Speaker was popular. The beauty of it was that these brethren would not behave as guests. They would even join in counselling the new converts.
We related closely and were sharing intimate issues with believers but separated from unbelievers, whether they were our parents or family members. In Ketu, in a building of four flats, it was occupied only by believers. In 1981, our brethren were surprised when they saw unbelievers living with me. It was considered worldly if one’s house was furnished luxuriously. Luxury being relative, what was luxurious to someone, might be the normal standard of living for another.
What is needed today is the marriage of the old and the new, making the most out of each as circumstances demand.
For further comment, Please contact: Osondu Anyalechi: 0802 3002-471; [email protected]
