Heavens
When Mama prayed, the heavens listened whether they wanted to or not. She had a loud voice and when she asked for things from God, she used people in the bible as reference for what she wanted.
“Remember Hannah, oh Lord bless me with a child like Hannah. Don’t allow people to ask me where my God is.”
The last bit was always said in Igbo. Papa said when Mama brought Hannah into the issue, God had no choice but to gift us to her. The only difference between Hannah and Mama was Mama wasn’t interested in giving us up for God’s worship. She was going to raise us to walk in his ways, not give the priest charge over us.
Papa liked to talk about how much Mama prayers had saved us. How much God loved Mama’s voice that he’d give her anything she asked in a heartbeat. Papa said things started working fine for him because Mama had prayed for him, asking that he be blessed like Job. He should have ten thousand of what he had lost. Papa said he didn’t have anything to begin with, but if Mama thought he had lost something, then he must have.
Papa didn’t take God as serious as Mama did. He prayed in the morning and evening, we all did. It was just Mama who went the extra mile. She recited the rosary with utmost dedication. She sang hymns in the afternoons when she returned from her shop after telling our brother Jude that she was coming. While Jude stayed at the shop, waiting for Mama to return and relieve him from boredom, Mama knelt in her and Papa’s room and sang in a loud voice. Thelma always rolled her eyes whenever Mama started praying. Titus, her twin, always joined Mama. We thought Mama loved Titus more than she did any of us, but we didn’t mind. Titus was selfless and whatever he asked, Mama granted. Whatever Mama granted, we benefitted from.
When Mama prayed, she prayed harder for Thelma because Thelma was not normal. She specially prayed that Thelma not be allowed to be a Judas. Thelma could not be allowed to betray God.
Thelma just wanted Mama to tone it down all the way. For a first daughter, Thelma wasn’t like Christa, our neighbours’ daughter. While Christa was interested in helping her mother, Thelma just wanted to hang out with her friends.
When Mama prayed for Titus, she prayed he had strength for the tribulations he’d face in the journey of his faith. Jude often asked why Titus bothered if he was going to face all these troubles later. Titus said God was worth it.
When Mama prayed for me, a sigh always followed. She prayed that my eyes opened so I’d realise how great God was. In fact, she prayed that I stopped being indecisive.
“Just help her pick a side. Don’t spit her out because she’s lukewarm. God, please give her time. Please.”
Thelma snickered and I looked at her. At least, no one was asking God to help me not end up like Dinah, the daughter of Jacob. Maybe Thelma didn’t know who Dinah was.
Papa said Mama could change God’s mind. Papa said we should trust Mama, Mama knew what was best for us. Papa believed all his good fortune came from Mama because it was only Mama who could speak to God and make him listen.
The first time we all prayed together, Mama was lying on her bed, shivering like she was accidentally dunked in ice water. The first time we all prayed together was the first time we saw Papa cry. The first time we all prayed together was when we realised that Thelma wasn’t our mate in the quest for the kingdom of heaven.
In all honesty, she was the only one who could talk to God and make him listen. Mama not included. Watching Mama shiver, Papa and Jude cry to God, Thelma and Titus praying healing on Mama, I was convinced that Mama would be alright. She had to be.
Only Mama didn’t get better. Maybe she did, depending on how you looked at it. For us, a shivering Mama was better than a cold-blooded, unresponsive one. Mama didn’t get better, not because Thelma and Titus didn’t pray well enough, but because the heavens stopped listening.
