Omo… the kind of sun that seems to shine on Sundays is of a different breed entirely. As long as it’s not raining, it’s usually unnecessarily hot when compared to other days of the week. If you’re someone without a car, the mere idea of walking home in that sun would be traumatizing you, making you want to hang around the church for a bit.
Many times, it’s always heavy and beating down on the poor folk of earth. Under all the fine dresses that you wear, under all that heavy makeup, and in the tight shoes that make you so uncomfortable you’d want to walk barefoot. Then, despite all those inconveniences, you’ll still have to walk under the sun, using the day’s bulleting or your handbag to shield the bright rays of the sun from your face.
It’s always a frustrating experience, and usually a total contrast to how the sun is when going to church. At that time, it’s always cool and you’ll be feeling fresh. You’d saunter into the church and take a good seat, however, it seems like the period the service is over, the sun won’t want you to go home, increasing the intensity as a way to convince you to remain in the church for a little while longer.
And for churches with good air conditioning and ventilation systems, it’s even worse! If your church is the type with state-of-the-art conditioning, where no matter the weather, everyone would be feeling cold or cool, thanks to dozens of fans and air conditioners blasting cold air into the congregation. This conditions your body to an extent. However, walking into the sun after such a therapeutic treatment would almost make your skin crawl for the first few minutes.
Funny enough, many times all this hot sun doesn’t even come by afternoon. They come before the afternoon. As early as 11 am, the sun is already beating down on Earth, punishing us for a crime we know nothing at all about. It then holds steady until about 2-3 in the afternoon before it begins to tap out. This is usually the reason people rush home because no one would want to dally on the road under such intense sunlight. It’s torture.
For me, back then, I was not one to go home immediately. Many times, even when mass closed by 11, I could get home by 5 pm that day. Not that I was doing anything of worth ooo, I was simply hanging out with friends, avoiding the sunlight over light banter and probably some snacks. Many times, we simply hung around the church until we got tired of waiting. Sometimes, we all packed ourselves to the home of the closest one, and we then stayed there well until evening.
My mom never liked this, of course. She just didn’t understand why other children of God would be getting home by 11 am and I would be coming in by 5 pm without a care in the world. It was always crazy. Anyway, what can I say? I enjoyed those periods a lot because so many memories were created then. In our avoidance of the sun, we did a lot of things that I can now look back on and say made my tween years memorable.
However, I don’t think the same would be the case anymore. Not now when everyone is a big boy and has to work to eat. After mass, I’m running home regardless of how hot the sun is because if I don’t I probably won’t be able to catch up on work and I probably won’t eat throughout that week. Adulthood is really a scam, my dear. Too bad I can’t go back to my carefree days.
Well, it’s all good. What made me reminisce on this is that I collected premium wotowoto from the hot sun today and I was sorely tempted to hang around and just give it a chill. Sadly, I couldn’t. I have my final year project I’m working on, I’ve got a job to deliver tonight, and of course, I’ve got a blog post to make. So, puffing my chest up and being a man, I walked into the furnace.
Obi is no longer a boy.