Ruth's pov
When we got home, we settled in front of the TV, the glow of the screen illuminating our faces as we watched movies and ate. My father looked over my mother and asked, "How far with the preparation for Mother's Day? Hope it's not too stressful?"
She nodded. "It's okay,
How will you go about it? You'll be in charge of the cooking and celebration, right?"
"Yes o," she replied with a sigh. "But don't worry, the Lord is my strength."
I smiled at her confidence. She always found a way to keep going, no matter the struggles. After eating, we prayed together and then went to bed. As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but look out the window. The sky was clear, and the stars shone brightly, like little diamonds scattered across a dark canvas.
"Thank You, God," I whispered, my heart swelling with gratitude. "You are so merciful. I am so grateful to You. Thank You for loving me. I am so loved by You. I am the apple of Your eye." The words came from the deepest part of me, a prayer I had said countless times, but that night it felt even more profound.
The next day was Youth Saturday. I wore a black long skirt and a brown top, excited to serve and be part of something bigger. I arrived early and started helping with the preparations, arranging chairs and setting up for the event. Grace spotted me and grinned, walking over to me. "Wow, Ruth, you look so good!"
"Thanks," I replied, feeling a rush of warmth at her compliment.
As we continued to prepare, David and his elder sister walked in with their mother. "Oya, go and sit there," she spoke in Yoruba, her voice firm. "Ife mi, jo, joko ni ibè," which means, "My dear, please sit there."
We continued setting up, my mind occupied with the work ahead. But soon, nature called, and I needed to use the bathroom. I walked to the back, where the toilet was, but on my way, I stumbled across David, standing by himself, holding a cigarette.
"Good morning, David. How are you?" I greeted him politely, offering a smile.
But he ignored me, turning his head away and snubbing me entirely.
"O well, not my business," I muttered under my breath, brushing it off.
I went on my way, trying not to let his rudeness bother me. As the youth gathered and began discussing plans, I felt a presence approach me. It was Mummy David, followed by our president. Since I was the assistant president, I stood up to greet them.
"Please, Johnson and Ruth," Mummy David began, her tone filled with a sense of urgency, "I want David to join your club. He needs to get used to church activities. I like how you both assist in the church like visiting the orphanage, helping the elderly in the old people's home, and preaching the Word of God."
Before I could respond, David scoffed. "Oh mama, please," he said with disdain. "I don't need this."
But Mummy David wasn't backing down. "If you don't join them," she warned, pulling him by the arm, "I'll let your father take you to the army boarding school. It's a correction center. Believe me, those Hausa soldiers will beat all this stubbornness out of you."
David's face shifted, and for the first time, I saw something that looked like resignation in his eyes. He looked like he had no choice but to comply.
"Please," his mother added, softening her tone slightly, "just give Christ a chance. You will love it."
The tension hung in the air as I watched David's expression. For a moment, I felt a pang of sympathy for him, caught in the middle of his mother's demands and his own resistance. It was clear he was struggling, and it reminded me of how many times I, too, had struggled with God's plan for me. Would David ever find his way? Would he come to understand the love and peace that church could bring?
I hoped he would. I truly did.
The next day, Sunday, arrived quickly, and I was excited for church, as I always was. There was something peaceful about the familiar faces, the songs, and the comforting presence of God's house. After the service, we all gathered for our usual after-service meeting. The room buzzed with conversation and laughter as we settled into our seats.
David and his sister walked in, and David immediately sat down with a sour expression on his face, like he would do anything to avoid being there. His body language screamed discomfort. It was obvious that he didn't want to be part of this, but here he was, dragged along by his mother's insistence.
Our president, Brother Johnson, began the meeting. "Alright, everyone," he said, his voice strong and commanding, "let's start with today's topic—God's love."
He cleared his throat and began to quote the familiar passage:
"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life." — John 3:16.
The verse echoed in my mind as I repeated it silently. How powerful those words were. It had always comforted me, reminding me of the unfathomable love God had for us. I looked around the room, seeing the familiar faces of the youth. We all shared in this love, even if some of us were struggling to understand it fully.
After the discussion, we moved on to the allocation of work for the week. "Alright, let's get started with the responsibilities for the week," Brother Johnson announced.
"Sister Sarah and Sister Rebecca, you will be sweeping the church for the week," he said, looking at the two girls.
"Sister Mercy and Sister Grace, you will handle the children's ministry," he continued, and both girls nodded in agreement.
"Brother Tunde and Sister Faith, you're in charge of hospital visitations," Brother Johnson added, glancing at the pair.
"Sister Ada and Sister Jessica, you'll be visiting the elderly home, helping out where needed," he said with a warm smile, and I felt a sense of duty as I nodded.
I continued to call out names until I got to mine. "I and Brother Johnson will also go for home-to-home visitation on Tola Street this week."
The room went quiet for a moment, and I glanced over at David, who was looking anywhere but at me. He seemed to be lost in thought, his arms crossed tightly, as if he were shutting himself off from the rest of us. I wondered what was going through his mind—whether he was regretting the choices he had made or feeling resentful for being forced into this situation.
Brother Johnson gave a warm smile and said, "Thank you, Ruth Now, the new members, just pray for us for the week, and next week we'll allocate more responsibilities to you."
We ended the meeting with a prayer, and I offered a silent prayer of my own, asking God to help us all find peace, to guide David, and to give me strength for the week ahead. As I finished, I couldn't help but feel a sense of sorrow for David. I knew the path ahead wasn't easy for him, and I wondered if he would ever truly understand the love that he was being invited into..