It was 2014 and I had gotten tired of never taking any solos during service. You see, I was a chorister in my campus fellowship. From 2012 when I joined the church (and choir) up until 2014, I had never led the choir special number, praise or worship. The farthest I had gone was back up, and if you’re a chorister you’ll understand how frustrating it was for me. So when my choir mistress casually asked who would like to take the choir ministration for a certain major programme coming up in the Felllowship, I knew my time had come. “Carpe diem”, I said to myself, “seize the day”. So I raised my hand and went out. And just like that, I was chosen to solo the song Graeful by Sinach.
That very night, I was attacked by cough! The next day my voice became very croaky. I went all out to battle this croakiness. Cough syrup, bitter kola, warm water, Tom-Tom sweets, name them. I wouldn’t let the devil prevail. This was backed by fasting and prayers o! Ah, we needed the presence of God to descend heavily after the song, so fasting, prayer and bitter kola became my lifestyle for about one week.
Then D-day came. We were dressed in white. I remember wearing a white shirt and a white flowing skirt with my black wedge shoes to match. “We call on DC Angels for their ministration”, the service moderator called out. We marched out elegantly, in a single file. When we all got to the stage, I came out to the front and took the microphone. My heart was beating violently inside my chest and I could barely hear the cue music. But I managed to remember to enter at the right time. So I started singing:
Grateful, so grateful
My heart I full of joy
Lord I’m so grateful for all you have done…
By the time I started to repeat the above lines, I felt a slight tremor beneath my feet. I thought it was because I was quivering with stage fright. But then, it felt like the stage floor was moving. I thought to myself that it wasn’t possible, that the stage couldn’t possibly… before I could finish that line of thought I was on the floor, alongside all the members of the choir. The stage had fallen!
You see, the stage was not built into the ground. It was a make-shift contraption of metal rods and large wooden flat boards covered by a carpet. This was because the place we used for church service was actually the school’s convocation arena and whatever business we had always ended after service. Everything was caught on camera! People didn’t forget it for the entire year. And the worst part was that I was the butt of all the jokes. It took our Pastor giving an injunction that the incident wasn’t to be mentioned anymore for the trolling to stop, but even he too was laughing at me.
Love and small shame,
Photo source: Pinterest