Good Friday Resurrection

The Good Friday was my first major denominational celebration since my infamous decision to join the Opus Dei. I perceived this day as conceivably one of those day’s that binned believers somewhere between grief and joy; not sure whether to mourn or celebrate the glorious but painful death of Christ. Of course, Christ had died to free us from the burden of sin as per the lessons, and who would mourn being relieved of their burdens, no matter what the cost had been. But again, how would you celebrate someone much superior losing his life for your sake. All sermons of the week bearing this Friday had been about a great Man making his way to Jerusalem to a man lying lonely in a concealed tomb somewhere near a place of skulls. Earlier on in one of the catechism classes I had attended, I heard a kid questioning why a man so powerful could just allow himself to be flogged and eventually crucified.

“But surely, why could this Jesus fight back” the kid asked innocently

“The catechism teacher who seemed to have been caught off guard giggled a little bit then responded “Because that’s what had brought him to earth to die for our sins” she got to the kid and rushed his hair gently as he responded.

“But at least he could have fought back…” the kid had insisted genuinely looking disgusted, and I realized the teacher had a long way to go, so I walked out to give her space with her kids.

I made up my mind I wanted to join the Opus Dei, one and a half years into paying my last respect to James, my fiancé. Their work place had blown up for reasons still not established to date, and he’d been one of those individuals reported to have flamed up beyond recognition. We buried James’ ashes a few days later and after a whole year of hoping he or another James like him could one day appear, I decided the best way to burry my love life would be to join the nuns. My mum could occasionally walk into my room to try convince me to maybe reconsider my decision her efforts never brought about any fruit.

 “I know you won’t find it easy to accept this, but listen to me love, losing a fiancé doesn’t end it all” she could enter my room with a new form of inspiration that I took in as cliché. She could then refer to a movie series we watched together of a lost lover coming back to the surprise of everyone, just to make me believe in her narratives. 

“Mum. I think we had talked about this, I’m just passionate about the Opus Dei, I’m not joining because I gave up on love” I countered, thank God I too had my lines ready and never to lose the ground.

“No, I know you very well Anna, can’t deceive me. It’s written all over your face”

“Mum. I’m okay” I could mask in a smile as I respond, making sure my emotions didn’t win over me.

“Maybe you should meditate about it. Its one and a half years since we buried James and you’ve never been the same ever since” Mum could proceed and so to halt this conversation, I had to act.

“Okay mum, I’ll try think about it” I could respond jumping off my bed to give her a hug and a peck “Good night mum. I love you” I could then add to make sure I put everything to a complete halt.

“I love you too mummy” Mum could respond drawing on her face the most tender smile of all mums put together. I never wanted to see her smiley face stained with sadness, so I always had to pace up this conversation to set let her out and to give her some relief.

This Friday, I had attended the first service in the main church then decided for the second service I would join the kids. What never jumped off my mind is that mum and I had managed to convince Father. Seki to join us for a family Good Friday lunch. For that reason, immediately the kids service ended, I rushed to the Fathers office just to jog his memory lest the middle-aged busy man forgot. 

“Hello, Anna. Is the lunch ready” Father Seki, now in a long creamy rob said immediately he spotted me at the entrance.

“Actually, I just came in to remind you about it” I responded feeling sheepishly nervous. I had expected something like “Oh, I forgot, can we please do it on Easter Monday or some other day”

“Okay, I’ll join you at the parking in a short while”

“Thank you Father” I responded then rushed out to the parking lot where mum and dad had been engaging in a seemingly important exchange with one of the seminarians and a nun. The nun’s name was Sister Lenah, my closest of all the parish residents. I had admired her a lot and was one of my inspiration to joining her team, though I never made this known to her.

“Have you confirmed Father’s visit” Dad inquired as I approached them.

“Yes. He said he’ll be joining us here shortly”

“That’s great” Dad responded “Your brother is waiting in the car” He added, which I thought was a way to conceal their conversation from me, because as soon as I stepped into the car they went on. However much I never got a single word from them, my instinct told me I knew what they were talking about. I decided to anyway consider it none of my business.

We got home a few minutes past two, Sister Lenah and two seminarians had joined the Father and had managed to build up a humorous exchange while mum and I got the kitchen busy. Mum could regularly leave me in there to contribute to the ongoing conversation. My little brother Yohanna had gone directly to his room. He looked exhausted though he had said he had a gift for Father. This rare visit had to be given a rare treat in all sectors. I listened to parts of the stories which had this point gone nostalgic. I came to realize that dad and Father Seki had attended the same primary school in the village, parted ways to join different high school then reunited in an engineering college. But why would an engineer consider being a reverend? And if an engineer could become a father, what was wrong with an accounting graduate like me becoming a nun?

 “The meal is almost ready” I interrupted the prolonged chronicle session, “I suggest we move to the dining room” I added smiling. 

“Oooh, that’s okay. Thanks Anna” Dad, said standing up to guide the visitors to the dining room “Where is Yohanna?”

“In his room” 

“Alright, don’t forget about him” 

Just as I veered to make my way back into the kitchen, mum called out

“Anna, we need some desert from the shop. Please go get them as I prepare the table”

I never minded. I picked dad’s keys from a stool in the rest room, rushed to the car and drove straight to the market for items in a list mum had written. I found an empty parking space just in front of the market entrance.

“Anna” a voice called out immediately I jumped off the car and was I throwing back the door. It was a familiar one, though I couldn’t remember the exact host. I turned back to see the host and there it was. An over familiar being dressed in a white round-necked t-shirt with black pants and white sneakers. He was leaning on a graphic painted street wall just opposite the shop’s main entrance with a grey back pack on his right shoulders. A face I had seen about two and a half years ago, a face whose ashes, our guest had presided over its first memorial service, a face that kept my eyes hurting and heart bleeding any time I watched a picture we had taken together just a day before its “Burnt beyond recognition” news went viral, a face I had admired most and finally a face whose presumed exit made me crave for Opus Dei.

“James” I called still in complete shock. My legs had suddenly gone numb. He didn’t respond. He instead gave a smile. That neighborly smile that had once kept my heart bubby “Hey, don’t move any closer” I warned him as he made hesitant steps towards me but he kept moving. I stepped back only to realize I was leaning on the car that I had barely move a step from. I watched this familiar ghost coldly matching closer to me.

“Anna, its me. Come on. I’ll explain…”