The location of the Church gave a good view to worshippers. It overlooked the River Taia, a river famous for its historic role in all traditional wars. The people remembered that in times of war they could all hide under a big flat rock over which the river flowed. When the enemy sat with complacency the people emerged from under the rock under the river to spy on them. The end result was mostly victory for the people of Banta Mokelleh. It was obvious—they knew the terrain better than the strangers.
Not only that, the river was known to be the home of ancestors who protected the village. Even outside war times the ancestors stood up against bad witches. They are there to support good witches for the village and so they would never allow bad witches to derail the loads of blessings they brought along for their children. The cost to the village was never high—the river took one of their children at the start of the rains (when the river swelled its banks) and at the end of the rains (when it went down again). Everyone knew this and was very careful when they fished or rowed their canoes.
A new Paramount Chief would not take up his appointment except after approval by the ancestors. At an appointed time the villagers would stand on the bank of the river to wait for the staff to surface and dance without human help but was accompanied by shouts of “Hoyooooo! from the depths. Even though the present generation did not witness any of the characteristic features on the River Taia, they still believed in its powers and took a touristic view of it whenever the opportunity presented itself. So worshippers kept gazing through the windows in the direction of the river.
That Sunday the service started with songs sung off note with English words sounding like Greek. Some men in the congregation tied their bath towels round their waists and ignored the wearing of shirts and trousers to church—indeed the Pastor had told them they needed not to stay away from Church for lack of decent apparel. God looked on the inside not on the outside. God knew their hearts. Some even smelled of raw palm wine which put them in gear for singing bad notes. The women dressed better except for the few holiday makers who came to Church half naked sometimes. Their dresses were tuned to the wavelength of American catalogues.
Joe was calculating in his mind the length of time remaining for him to harvest his new rice. A large farm of thirty bushels of rice was going to give him a good enough yield to help service his debts and take his neighbour to court for a land dispute that seemed to have rested some ten years back. With so much money in his pocket he could wake up every sleeping case in court. He wondered if God knew his heart too. Sallay was in love with a most respected leader in the Church. Joe had passed half of last night at her place before going home. Did God know her heart as well? The Pastor had taken his three boys to be members of a secret society against the teachings of his Church denomination. Did God know his heart?
Melrose and June, the daughters of the blind Paramount Chief, were in Church too. The Church here was completely different from the one they were used to in Monrovia Liberia. However, they appreciated it as the only thing that came close to civilization or modernity in that environment. The Pastor’s sons who were also there on holidays kept their eyes going to and fro in the direction of the visitors from abroad.
At the end of the service, both Samson and David accompanied the two visitors to the Paramount Chief’s house without obtaining permission from their own father the Pastor. They were lured by the skirts and open backs to the point that they forgot the tradition of having lunch together as a family on Sundays. David remembered and quickly found an excuse to go back home leaving Samson behind as the latter seemed to have other things on his mind. Pastor Isaiah Paul did not take kindly to the misdemeanour of his elder son, one that was expected to be an example to his younger siblings.
After some three hours had followed the end of the Church service, Samson sauntered home sandwiched by Melrose (his favourite) and June. Pastor Paul the retired captain wore his imaginary soldier boots and stepped out of the house counting his steps towards them as soon as the trio entered the compound. With his two hands behind his back his son could not guess what his Pastor father was up to.
Up to this day Samson has wondered how the old man got him to the ground before the caning started. Not only that, he also did not understand how his friends disappeared. He felt so much shame when he saw the crowd that had gathered to watch the drama in such a cinematic spirit. No one came near them but each person stood on top of a heap or a veranda to catch a good view. One wondered if they watched the drama or the famous river that formed the backcloth of the show. To this very day Samson has not set eyes on his “Sweet Rose” or her sister June nor even heard of their location in the entire universe. He once enquired after Rose and someone told him she was in the country working as a nurse in Makeni.
What he never forgot though was the admonition his late father gave him later that Sunday afternoon.
“:I want you to know that I don’t hate you. All I am trying to teach you is that in life one needs to get his priorities right. For now I am paying your school fees and I am not prepared to support a grandchild. Once you get through your college education you can get as many women in your life as you choose. When you become an adult you are free to carry yourself in society as you deem fit—with or without God. You can even choose not to look after me in my old age. My support to you now is not a license to harass your life in future. You always have your rights. For now we are looking at your right to good education. I hope I made myself clear?”
“Yes Papa.”
