MUSTARD IV – Ch. 8 | KT OLLA

THERE had been those non-denominational groups of Christian folks in Morrow’s town those years.

They’d held meetings, reading scripture and praying. Among them was the continent-wide bible study group, S.U.

Then some others were Christian clubs of career people. Like the global group called ‘Full Gospel’.

So, these storms of revival had been quite boisterous that by the 80’s, they’d grazed earth’s circumference...

Then in fact touched this inside core called Ede, Nigeria.

It was wildfire.

Well, it was one of those windstorms. The moon that night wore a bright smile, and the skies too.

Everything was bright and the clouds weren’t sad.

Only Morrow was, that evening. It was one of his achy days, so he laid weak and sad.

There was light rain early that morning, yet it had poured hard in the towns close by.

It was October in ’84, but there was no storm.

Well, there was this one that blew somewhere close to Banji’s house.

A man pitched his tent in a park a little away from Banji, and preached the gospel on speakers.

Now it wasn’t the “revival tent” those days, but then an outreach happened.

Revd. Oduwale, as they called his name, was one of those disciples who caught the fire.

The middle-aged evangelist had sent his team to ask permission to use a school ground.

Then that team had met with Morrow the school director. For Joshua Morrow had been transferred home to start the place.

Yes, the school principal had planned that ground. He’d built classes, a football pitch, and planted trees by the lanes.

Now Morrow hadn’t met with Odu, but he knew about the group using their ground.

They’d said they were an outreach team from another place—Ode-Omu or whatever, Morrow hadn’t cared.

 So the outreach started, with more Christian groups volunteering. 

The revivalist preached Jesus, the way out of every toil and the way into life.

That day the winds of change blew again, then took his words to Banji’s heart.

That day, there were miracles; for Christ backed the man’s words with full proofs.

Bamiji heard those things happen and wondered. He’d never felt God’s power before, now he was hearing this.

He thought to pick himself up, stagger or walk, or even drive—he just thought to go there and see.

Perhaps he could get delivered, too.

Still he lingered.

I’ve never been around people like this. I call ’em fanatics and all.

I’m the school principal of there, an elder in the society.

Now if I go join those zealots—or what do I call them now?

If I go join them, everybody will talk!

He was suddenly cautious, afraid of being seen.

But then he stopped, sat up and looked round him. He was still by himself, alone.

So he stopped talking folks, and talked to himself.

But they’ve got proof, haven’t they? Those people.

If praying people have true proof, then that’s all I want!

Fanatic or whatever, those guys know God!

I mean, look at these!!

(He was referencing signs of God’s outpouring.)

Therefore Morrow was stirred. He stood to his feet like he was there in person. Like he’d got something to say.

Now that small leap was the response he had to give. But it went far more than nods from church pews.

He went far.