Counterfeit

Lenhle grabbed her ‘my Boaz’ list and beamed at the number of checked boxes against her preferences for the ideal partner. She checked the ninth one out of twelve of them, as she pulled out her floral, cocktail party dress which she would be wearing as Sive’s plus-one.

Sive Khumalo was one of the many new congregants that had joined her church just under a year ago, and since Lenhle was a youth leader, she was tasked with familiarizing the new members with their new home and sanctuary. She loved communicating with people, especially concerning the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Now, as she approached her 35th birthday, she was more than eager to settle down with a good husband. She was fervently praying about this every chance that she got, and had submitted this desire to her leaders in the church.

“Lenhle, how are you, my daughter?” her spiritual father asked her via WhatsApp.

Lenhle eyed the message notification and cringed. Even though she had let the man of God know of her interest in Sive, she felt a pang of guilt in her belly whenever any questions were asked concerning her dating the young man and she assumed he wanted to do just that in this moment. She pondered how to answer the question and resorted to playing it surface-level.

She answered him.

“I’m well Pastor Mhlanga”, she clicked send.

“How are you, Sir?” she prompted.

The phrase ‘typing…’ appeared below her text and Lenhle played with the fabric of her dress as she waited.

From her end, it seemed that her pastor had much to say, typing and pausing for nearly three minutes. Lenhle’s heartbeat quickened, and she began to ask herself if she’d done anything wrong at church or to anyone in particular. She couldn’t think of any such instance. She frowned when the pastor’s message popped into the chat.

“I’m well, I’m well my girl. Listen, I want to implore you to be careful not to rush anything with that new boy Sive. Keep praying and exercise caution. I don’t want you getting too excited that you lose discernment. Okay?”

Lenhle bit her lower lip anxiously, but felt relief that she wasn’t being reprimanded. She wondered why she’d felt scared at all when her pastor contacted her, but quickly brushed it off and texted the servant of God back when she heard her doorbell ring. The young man she’d been prompted to be cautious about was at the door. And early. Another green flag, Lenhle noted and grabbed her purse to leave.

Their courtship was about four months in, and Sive had made his affections toward Lenhle known to her following an all-night prayer at the church and again during a children’s ministry celebration. He had told her he admired her love for the young adults and was inspired by her willingness to help others. For Lenhle, it was safe to say that he was an observant man, which was a trait listed as number three on her ‘my Boaz’ list.

Sive was more on the reserved side, which Lenhle considered exciting because she’d be on a mission to discover what he didn’t display for all to know and see. So far, she knew that she liked the sound of his voice and that he’d attended every church service since he’d joined the church. She also noticed that he didn’t shy away from offering a helping hand – financially, to any work that needed such help within the sanctuary. She marked that habit of his as generosity and ticked it off on her list as well.

He was a manager at a local bank and was considered a seasoned professional by his peers, with just over a decade of experience along with a handful of qualifications under his belt. Lenhle liked that he was driven, but was yet to hear about who he was outside of his church suits and the job he was thriving in. During their conversations, Sive had a way of allowing their chats to stay on Lenhle, and Lenhle had no issue expressing herself but there was a growing longing in her to understand the man. As she and Sive drove to the party they were attending, Lenhle figured it was a good opportunity to learn more about the bachelor.

She swore she’d caught a whiff of alcohol in his breath, but he drove well enough and she decided it wasn’t anything to worry about. In her conversations with God, she’d clearly asked that whoever her Boaz would be came with a personal ‘no drinking policy’. Nothing that God couldn’t do, she contended with herself. Perhaps she could accommodate casual drinking, as long as it was under control, she thought to herself. She drifted with htat thought, fighting to justify her negotiation with her own preference.

When they arrived at the party, Lenhle watched Sive mingle with his friends and colleagues, introducing her to some and walking on to find refreshments. Lenhle spotted cans of fruit juice and picked the grape flavor. Sive marched up from behind her and offered to open it for her.

“I hope you’re not feeling too out of place”, he said.

Lenhle took a sip of her drink and shook her head in response. She swallowed her fill to speak.

“Not too much, but I like that I’ve met some of your friends’, she lied.

Do you hang around them often? What do you guys do?” she probed cautiously.

Sive dusted invisible matter from his jacket and resisted eye contact for a few seconds. Then he raised his head like a mischievous child who’d just thought of a plan to escape punishment for wrongdoing.

“We mostly do work stuff. Come! I want to show you the crazy expensive paintings inside that that guy bought just to show off. Sive pointed to one of his friends before grabbing Lenhle’s hand and leading her into the three-story mansion.

“Oh wow!” Lenhle remarked as she stepped into a brightly lit living room with room enough to hold a children’s assembly. The couches were painfully white and had cushions that looked more like aesthetic pieces. Even though the house was filled with people, Lenhle could tell it was a very modern house with less furniture and more interior designing to define each room.

“You see that one over there”, Sive shouted to beat the background music.

Lenhle nodded, shrugging off the uneasiness that was looming over her.

“It cost him about E15 000. CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT?” He gave her a dazed glance and chuckled.

“Wow, at least it’s beautiful”, Lenhle tried to engage his conversation.

He ushered her into the kitchen and she leaned on the marble island as he marched to the fridge. She was fighting to be good company and not dampen the mood with her sudden disinterest.

“Are you still having your juice? There’s plenty more here”, he spoke while he scanned the fridge.

Sive pulled something from a bottom shelf and shut the fridge door.

Lenhle kept her head down and eyes focused on the flowers on her dress. Suddenly, she wanted to leave but Sive didn’t catch her queues. Instead he threw himself beside her and opened the can of beer he had in hand.

Lenhle rolled her eyes at that and looked straight at him.

“When will you start sharing real things with me?” Lenhle asked him angrily.

Sive’s shoulders froze briefly before he dropped them to maintain a calm posture.

“Well?” Lenhle pushed him.

The can of beer was a trigger, but her annoyance stemmed from his reluctance to share any real part of himself with the young woman, she realized in that moment that she’d been compromising a core value of hers and her pastor’s advice was acting as a subtle reminder now.

“I don’t do things like others do things. You shouldn’t rush me baby girl. In due time you’ll know things.”

Lenhle felt that pang of guilt from earlier more intensely now. It was a familiar sentence. A familiar remark she’d heard before from a previous, failed attempt at a Godly romance. And she knew exactly how it would end. Sive was either going to keep those passive remarks coming until she disappeared into his schemes or she would work herself up into emotional exhaustion, trying to defend what even she couldn’t define.

“Okay. How do you do things then?” Lenhle asked.

She knew she was only killing time, but a flicker of forced hope made her linger to hear if he’d say anything she could hold onto instead of leaving him there and then.

“I just let things flow. See where it goes. I like you and we’re seeing where this could go, being ourselves. The problem with you people is that you want to live in a bubble like you’re characters in the bible. This is real life, things aren’t like they were for Moses and his friends.”

Lenhle wanted to strangle him and then she wanted to smack him across the head with the same bible he just spoke so loosely of. How dare he? What did he mean by you people? Was he really excluding himself from the body of Christ to back up foolishness? She felt foolish for even entertaining the conversation this far. She had so many ways that she wanted to confront and combat his loose tongue, but Proverbs told her constantly that engaging in arguments with fools made you a fool also. She suppressed her vigor for battle and prepared herself to leave the extravagant, ‘trying too hard to impress’ party. She drank the last of her juice and walked to the dustbin she’d spotted in the corner of the kitchen. Her eyes welled with tears but she’d decided she was leaving. Disappointed…again.

“I’m not willing to flow with you”, Lenhle gestured a flowing motion with her hands and pushed down the lump that ambushed her throat.

“I’m leaving. I’ll call a taxi. Enjoy your party!”

She left the kitchen, the house and didn’t look back.

When she was in her apartment again, she cried the rest of her disappointment into her lime duvet and didn’t know whether to call her friends to vent or simply crawl into a hole and never come out.

It wasn’t his reluctance to let her in on his personal life that broke her heart, it was his ignorance of the principles of the Gospel and how he clearly was not where she’d hoped he was spiritually. It was a non-starter. Another discouraging experience to add to her ‘don’ts’ list for her youth ministry. She knew she’d need to spill the beans about this soon enough, and dreaded seeing him at church again on Sunday. That’s if he wouldn’t have gone with a different flow by then. At least, she’d dodged yet another bullet and fled.