A horrible honk blared.

"Argh!!!!!!!!"

It was a really bad idea to have a house near a busy road! Ibadan. I regretted everything from my parents divorce settlement to my new home.

Dad was at work. I was stuck with a small button phone that could only make calls. It also had a small flash light and a jump game.

There was no power supply.

Just great.

I was gonna resume school the next day, at a new school, in a new town, in a new class.

I was entering grade 11. Almost done with high school.

Dad had some work to do even though it was a Sunday. He promised to get back home in time for us to get to church in time for the second service.

I didn't understand how the God of Christians makes his laws. Don't have a boyfriend. Don't lie. Don't steal. Respect your parents. Don't think evil. Love God. Help the poor. Love your enemies?! Give to the needy and it goes on and on and on. I even heard that the Bible is a book of God's laws. And the Christians still read it. They are so weird. I even heard them speaking (with eyes closed) in alien languages. My dad is one of them.

He is a Christian. He even asked me to accept the God of Christians into my life. I scoffed. Since then I have been backing off from his friends and himself.

Now, he wants to make me follow him to church.

I glanced at my new school uniform. A clean black pleated skirt, a cream shirt and a black tie. It was well ironed. My frustration which I let out on the poor iron was visible.

Then another honk blared. This time it was right in front of my new home. It was Dad. I mini-ran to open the gate. Dad wes petty and got irritated at the slightest mistake. Overall, he was impatient.

I opened the gate. He was parking outside. After parking, I had opened the small division of the gate for him to enter. I greeted him and he gave me a box.

"Go and get ready. We're heading to church now."

I walked into my room in our three bedroom house and sat on my bed. I opened the box gingerly. I was afraid of what I might find in the box.

Then, I saw four neatly folded dresses. They were beautiful but I was just never a fan of dresses. I was either seen in shorts, Jean trousers or my night wears (short and top length depends on the weather).

I wore a blue dress and some flat shoes. I thanked my Dad for the clothes and went out to sit in the car. I took a book and a pen incase I wanted to write something queer about this God.

Dad wore an Ankara shirt and trousers. He drove us to the church.

Once we arrived there, Dad ushered me to a separate building. On the walls, there were some words painted in purple.

Teens' Church

I walked in and waved to Dad. He left.  I sat in the middle of a column. They were having a choir presentation. I was bored. The song was too slow for me to enjoy and I didn't hear (I didn't listen to) the song lyrics.

I saw a few of the teenagers standing to leave. I left. I strolled around the church. I walked into the restroom to have a look at myself in the large mirror. The dress fitted perfectly despite my too-chubby-for-your-age body. I was applying a faint layer of lip balm unto my dry and cracked lips when I saw something move in the mirror.

It was a face. I turned to look back.

No one was there. I took a step back and ran back to the church building. I was never this afraid.

I had gone through military training from my grandfather. I had gotten lost in a forest once and I almost fell into a well. I rarely had my heart racing because of fear. Now, it wasn't just racing, it was banging.

What's wrong? It was just my imagination. Why am I not calming down?

"Hi. Is everything alright?" A girl sitting beside me asked with a smile.

"Yah. I'm fine."I said casually.

I focused my attention to what a teenager was saying. She was tall and had natural kinki hair. She was sharing one of her experiences since she became a Christian.

I brought out my pen and began to write.

Her salvation

1. Peace and Joy
2. Grace
3. Power
4. Life
5. Love

After I wrote love, I felt something stir in my heart. Tears were clouding my eyes. I rushed out of the building to the restroom. Someone was following me. I didn't care. I sat on a plastic chair by the wall and cried.

Toughen up Tegha. You're not the only one here.

I looked at the person who was following me. The girl who asked if I was alright before stood in front of me.

I dared not glance at the mirror.

"What is happening dear?"she asked.

"Nothing! Go away!" I snapped.

She didn't move or even flinch at my rudeness.

She stood looking at me with her concerned brown eyes.

I wiped my face dry with the back of my hands. I watched as she took another plastic chair and sat beside me.

We were there for several minutes.

"How are you feeling now?" She asked.

"Why are you so concerned?"

"That's because you look pained."

"Well, I'm not."

"Can you just tell me your name?"

"No! Go away already! Go and join your singing perfect church and leave me alone."

"Okay. I'll respect your space. My name is Love."

I slapped my forehead.

Her name is Love. Sheesh.

She stood and walked to the door. She stayed there gazing intently at me.

"Can you go away? And leave me alone for crying out loud!" I shouted. She left.

Her name is Love. Could anything get worse? What is wrong with me? Mummy always told me that she loved me but I didn't feel love. How can I start crying at the mention of the mere word? I stood and advanced to the door. I made a quick glance at the mirror.

I was almost blinded.