I was a guest at a child thanksgiving after-church party the other day. A lavish one thrown at the residence of the couple, on a Sunday afternoon.
Most guests who were present at the occasion happened to be church members of the couple who followed the celebrants from church to their home. So, the party was Christian-themed. More so, with an invited priest around, dressed in his complete priestly regalia; it was deemed a religious gathering.
In fact, the party was almost a continuation of the church service held few hours ago – there were long prayers, praise and worship sessions and bible lessons.
Every item was spiritualized. No Wizkid, Olamide or Phyno jamz. No show of craziness. What will the priest say if things were done the other way round?
Safe, corny jokes were told by the MC, Tables had only Malt, bottled water and soft drinks – The type of drinks Jesus would approve of. While crates of beer were safely hidden at a corner – Even though many church brothers on my table obviously longed for alcohol. But what will the priest say? Every guest was careful not to do anything that wouldn’t honour or glorify God, in the priests’ presence.
I can confidently say the whole sanctimoniousness was awkward as hell. If a lot of folks like me seated under the canopy were seriously honest with themselves, the party was boring as hell!
By the time the host couple were called out to dance, i cringed as they attempted to dance rhythmically to gospel songs by Don Meon and Panam Percy Paul. Behind the fake smiles and forced jubilant dance moves they showcased; i could tell it was a struggle.
You seldom find any priest spending too much time with mere mortals at a party or even eating and drinking in public. So ‘father’ excused himself and took his leave.
It came as a relief to ALL!
That’s when the party really started. After all, We didn’t come to church, we came to party!
Immediately, the MC grabbed the mic and joyfully announced, “free yourself o…pastor don go o! we can now do as we like. Abeg DJ number 6!”
Music quickly switched from Frank Edwards to Phyno “fada fada”…next Flavour’s “golibe”…next Tiwa Savage’s “my darling”….
While these party jamz blasted from the speakers, everywhere gradually came alive and bubbled. Brethren began to get their groove on. No dulling. The celebrants were now happier than ever.
Beer bottles were passed around each table, as everyone snapped out of their hypocrisy and got merry.