I was home again last Sunday, for a completely different purpose. This time, it had to do with St. John Catholic Church in Oghara Agbarha-Otor, my village. There was a big event in the Church and I was part of it. My village was having its first Catholic Reverend Father in the person of Rev. Fr Ambrose Oghenekevwe Unuajohwofia. I cannot tell exactly the history of the church, but I grew up to see that there was an RCM (Roman Catholic Mission) primary school in the village for everybody.

The school was established in 1955 and the Catholic Church might have come with it to the village. Or better still, the school might have come with the church to the village since the development of schools, hospitals and other social infrastructure in the early days of missionary incursions was incidental to the main purpose of propagating Christianity. Whichever that was the case, the beautiful outcome was that both the school and the church have remained part of the social landscape of my community.

But while the school developed to serve its purpose, the Church actually got obliterated when the school was taken over by government in 1974 and renamed Osuavwah Primary School. The catechist stopped coming after school on Tuesdays to teach pupils the basic tenets of the Catholic faith. I could remember catechist Ejovi telling us way back then that God created us to Know Him, worship Him and live in harmony with His purpose here on earth and in heaven. He taught us the ‘The Lord’s Prayer’, ‘The Grace’, ‘Hail Mary’ and the ‘Apostolic Creed’ in Urhobo and all have stuck with me till date. He had the patience to lead us through, even when he had to literally knock into our tender heads the Apostolic Creed, which was the lengthiest and most difficult to commit to memory.

Somewhere along the line, the church returned with some vigour to even acquire a location outside the school to put some church house for the weekly mass. But nothing significantly in terms of physical development was pushing the church beyond a mere mass centre to a full parish. Initially, it was attached to the Holy Spirit Catholic Church, Ighwrekpokpor, Ughelli, and later given to St Francis Catholic Church Agbarha-Otor, when the latter attained a parish status.

Before now, all there was to St John Catholic Church Oghara Agbarha-Otor, was a rectangular enclosure like a typical classroom where all liturgical activities took place and then an off-hand plot of land measuring 200 by 200. God knew the constraints and sent a builder called Dr. Richard Iyasere. Uncle Ricky assumed absolute development of the church only in March and set a target to bring the auditorium to a level where Rev. Father Oghenekevwe (Kevwe for short) would say his first mass after his ordination.

And he did. Last Sunday, the brand new Reverend Father said his first mass in the auditorium of St John Catholic Church Oghara Agbarha-Otor, after his ordination the day before at the National Shrine of Our Mother of Perpetual Help, Ugwogwo-Nike, Enugu. And we are talking of a church building that is complete with all structural and architectural appurtenances and almost rising in magnificence to a medieval cathedral outlay.

Uncle Ricky was actually ahead his workmen in the church building project. He lives in Benin-City, but in the build-up to the ordination, he covered the about 100 kilometres distance between Benin and my village twice every week to oversee the work. He increased the frequency to daily visits in the last week to the event, to ensure that nothing failed. He was visibly angry when on June 25, the roofer, pleading some constraints, left a part of the auditorium uncovered with aluminum long sheet, thereby, forcing parishioners into a bout of ecstatic prayers asking God to hold back rain for the ceremony the following day.

Uncle Ricky was also the chairman of the ordination committee, which was constituted in April while I was on vacation in the village. I had participated in a couple of their deliberations before returning to Lagos. Altogether, the preparation for the ordination of Fr. Kevwe was a call to communal duty. The attendant glory and investment spread beyond the immediate and extended family of which Uncle Ricky and I are a part to the entire Oghara community, which was sufficiently mobilized to offer support in cash and kind.

By June 25, all was set for the first mass of Father Kevwe in Oghara the following day. The party, including Kevwe and his parents that went to Enugu for the ordination was being eagerly awaited. They must return to save the next day. I called Kevwe at about 5pm and he said the Enugu ceremony had just ended and that he and some of his guests were about leaving for Delta. It was not Delta in the sense of Asaba the State capital, which is more or less in the same cartographic space with Onitsha and about 100 kilometres from Enugu. They were coming to Ughelli, which is about 120 kilometres to Onitsha, putting the total distance to be covered before nightfall on a most hazardous highway at about 230 kilometres.

I was apprehensive even as I believed the Almighty would never allow the elaborate preparations to welcome our Rev. Father to shift out of tune. I said the Lord’s Prayer and kept the vigil. At midnight, I called a member of the Enugu party who said they were just re-entering Ughelli. It meant the first mass must hold in the new church building as scheduled by 10 am on June 26. I went to bed without worrying about the other major point of stress, which was the possibility of a downpour in the middle of the mass.

The weather, the following morning looked most unpredictable. I said the Lord’s prayer and Hail Mary a couple of times. Uncle Ricky was a bit disturbed, but I waxed in faith and told him that we didn’t have to seek fire from baal if the day’s sacrifice was meant for Jehovah, who could bring down fire to meet His own purpose. In the end, it turned out a breath-taking drama of the elements that bordered on the miraculous. At every turn, the clouds threatened but receded without a drop of rain as if under strict instruction not to cross the dry line.

In fact, up there at the altar, there was no sense of urgency whatsoever among the colony of priests. They, including the officiating Fr. Kevwe, took their time to perform the liturgical rituals, completely oblivious of the threatening weather outside and as if the auditorium was fully covered by roofing sheets. God simply held back the rain all through till the next morning to allow all the activities of the priestly ordination of Father Kevwe to happen under hot sun.

And so, my village recorded its first Catholic priest last week and he is from my family. Actually, there is a special bond between the boy, who I shall now call Father and myself. I stayed with his father, Peter Unuajowhofia Mevayero while in the university. He was born on the day I returned from school. When I was told the mother was in labour and had been taken to the hospital, I left immediately for the Mariere General Hospital Ughelli, and I was around with his father when a birth attendant emerged from the labour room to announce his birth.

His is the only birthday of my uncle’s children that I have in my head. He was born on August 10, 1985. Some piece of superstition was immediately woven around this coincidence. They said the unborn child specially loved me hence he had waited for me to return from the University of Calabar before arriving this sinful world. Father Kevwe conducts his second mass today at St. Martins Catholic Church Ahwire, Agbarha-Otor, his mother’s village.