The Transformer

By: Tosanwunmi Tarre

“Prayer is the key,” boomed the Chairman’s deep baritone. Nods and murmurs of “yes” emanated from the crowd that gathered in front of him.

“In this life, one cannot afford to live a life devoid of prayer. Many are our enemies but the Lord our God is stronger than a thousand of them — ” He paused to wipe off the little beads of sweat that dotted his upper lip with a brown handkerchief — “which is why we are gathered here today to seek His face, to pray unto Him, to ask Him to show up and fight the enemies of darkness that have refused to let us enjoy stable power supply in this community.”

The murmurs rose up an octave, an indication of a disgruntled crowd, a crowd that was fed up of being cheated by the forces of darkness stealing their power supply and was now ready to take whatever action necessary to put an end to such malfeasance.

“Which is why we the Landlords Association of this community have asked a representative from each household to gather here. We are putting a foot on the ground and we say, ‘Enough is enough!'”

“Enough is enough!” the crowd echoed him, pumped fists in the air. “What is it sef? When we are not accursed!” others chimed in angrily.

A passerby, perhaps a stranger in that community might not have immediately understood the reason for such assemblage of men and women and a few teenagers around a brand new transformer but if the stranger had asked, they’d be filled with details on how certain powers that be had long been giving the community a tough time as regards the community transformers. Indeed, the stranger’s ears would be stuffed — much to his or her consternation and delight, especially if he or she was one that was excited by gossip — how every fortnight a newly installed transformer in the community would suddenly cease to work permanently. This, along with half-truths and ridiculous lies (to spice up the story, of course) would be relayed to such a stranger.

Presently, the Alfa of the community mosque was offering intercessory prayers up to Allah. Not many of the residents liked him much. He was a pompous fellow who believed his judgment was what was best. Just outside his mosque was a borehole, a source of water for the community folks. Now religious people believe that as God has freely given water, it must not be withheld from others, especially when it was within the premises of a religious ground. The Alfa probably was of a different school of thought. So, when someone fetched water, they had to pray that he was not around to hear the rushing sounds of the water because if he did, faster than lightning, the water would cease to flow.

Still, no one took it up with him. People do not question religious leaders.

“Lift God high!” the Alfa ended his prayer.

“Allah is great!” the people chorused.

Next, it was the Christian’s turn. Like the Alfa, the Reverend wasn’t much liked either, especially by the teenagers in the community who he was so quick to dub as “yahoo boys” and “wayward girls” whenever they did something he did not approve of. Heaven help you if you had finished secondary school the year before but were yet to gain admission into a higher institution or weren’t gainfully employed. You’d fit nicely into his sermons on “lazy youths” and “wayward rascals” who brought shame to their parents and the community and needed to repent or hellfire was their reward.

The Reverend began with worship songs, followed by different prayers for forgiveness of sins.

Twenty minutes later, the forgiveness of sins prayers was still on but if anybody had a complaint, they swallowed it back because people do not question religious leaders.

After what seemed like a thousand years, the prayers finally came to an end much to the relief of the Muslim cleric who halfway through the prayer had begun to grumble, howbeit not-so-audibly.

“Praise the Lord!” the Chairman boomed.

“Alleluia!” the crowd roared, victorious fists pumping the air.

“Lift God high!”

“Allah is great!”

“Yes, my fellow community residents, our prayers have been lifted high to the heavens. God will fight for us, in fact, He already has and all our enemies will be put to shame. Let us return to our homes celebrating for no more will this community cease to have light!”

The jubilant crowd shouted and screamed for joy. Finally, their ordeal in the hands of the dark forces was finally over. They could also begin to enjoy a stable power supply as other communities.

Behind the Chairman, the Treasurer for the Landlords Association had a wicked flash in his eye, only one with a terrible secret did.

*****************

Four days later, the newly installed transformer in the community developed an irreparable fault.

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