CHAPTER Eleven — NYSC
The afternoon light spilled lazily through Meri's sitting room window, catching in the soft curtains and scattering gold dust across the tiled floor.
A fan groaned overhead, turning in slow circles, stirring more noise than air.
On the TV, a Nollywood pastor was laying hands on a sobbing woman. His microphone squealed, his white suit gleamed. Somewhere behind him, a choir sang "I am free!" with theatrical devotion.
Lilian sat on the edge of the couch, half amused, half disgusted.
She and Meri had been talking since morning, gossiping about old classmates, complaining about the cost of transport, and most importantly, about NYSC. (NYSC is a government Compulsory service for all Nigerian Students after graduation from the University)
The online registration portal had been unstable for weeks, and everyone was waiting for it to open again. Their group chat was buzzing daily with speculations and panic.
"I just hope this registration starts soon," Meri muttered, packing another wig into a nylon bag. "I'm tired of being at home."
"You?" Lilian asked with a dry laugh. "I'm already planning my redeployment strategy. I can't serve anywhere that has more goats than people."
Meri chuckled. "Abeg, you go where the Spirit sends you."
"Spirit better send me to Lagos," Lilian shot back, rolling her eyes.
Her friend's phone beeped, then an order notification.
"Oh! That's the woman from yesterday. She's coming to pick up her hair now. I'll be back soon, just wait a bit, abeg. Don't let Levi bore you."
Lilian groaned softly. "He's around?"
"Yes na, he's upstairs. Just came back from the gym. If he starts his 'Jesus is Lord' sermon, run."
Meri laughed and dashed out with her wig bag.
Lilian sighed and stretched out her legs, feeling the silence of the house close in. And as fate would have it, moments later, she heard soft footsteps on the stairs.
Levi appeared tall and light-skinned, the kind of mixed-race glow that seemed to annoy her on sight. He wore a grey T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly damp, his presence deliberate but unassuming.
"Hi," he said politely. " Lilian , quite surprised, it's been so long since you decided to visit us.
"Yes," she replied. " Been a while, and coupled with the fact that I have missed Meri, I just had to drop by."
He nodded and sat opposite her, keeping a respectful distance. "Meri told me you're waiting for NYSC too."
"Yeah. Still waiting for registration to start. It's been delayed for ages."
Levi smiled faintly. "The whole country's on delay mode. Even destiny is waiting for clearance from Abuja."
She laughed in spite of herself. "You sound like Twitter motivational quotes."
"I'll take that as a compliment," he said with mock seriousness, and they both laughed lightly.
Then, his tone softened. "But seriously, how are you coping with all this waiting? Feels like limbo, doesn't it?"
She shrugged. "It is. You graduate, people expect you to have your life figured out. But you're just… stuck. No service, no job, no direction. Just anxiety."
"Maybe it's not stuck," he said. "Maybe it's preparation."
She gave him a side-eye. "Here we go. Pastor mode."
He smiled without offense. "I'm not preaching. Just saying, sometimes waiting reveals more about us than movement."
She frowned, picking at her fingernails. "You sound like those church people who turn suffering into sermons. Not everything is divine waiting. Sometimes life just sucks."
Levi chuckled quietly. "You've been burned by religion, haven't you?"
"I've been burned by hypocrisy," she said sharply. "I've seen men of God turn homes into prisons. I've seen women forced to stay in abuse because their pastors said, 'God hates divorce.' So yeah, I'm not exactly inspired by church folk."
He nodded slowly, as though he'd expected that answer.
"Not all churches are like that," he said gently. "And not all men of God are devils. Some are just human, flawed, learning."
Lilian crossed her legs and looked away. "Spoken like someone who's never been disappointed by faith."
Levi's gaze flickered. "On the contrary. I've had my own share. I just chose not to confuse people's failures with God's silence."
Her irritation spiked. She hated how calm he was, how unbothered, how his voice never rose.
"Oh, please," she muttered. "You sound like one of those who 'pray away' pain. That's not healing. That's denial."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Maybe. But some prayers are more honest than words. Some prayers are just breathing when you want to stop."
That silenced her for a moment.
The fan hummed louder. Outside, a generator sputtered to life.
On TV, a new program had started a talk show on Youth and Morality. The host was asking a guest why young people were leaving the church.
Lilian's lips tightened. "That's another thing. These same churches that push people away then wonder why no one comes back."
Levi tilted his head. "Why do you think they leave?"
"Because it's full of lies!" she burst out. "Fake tongues, fake miracles, fake humility. People shouting 'Hallelujah' on Sunday and cheating on Monday. I don't hate God, Levi. I just hate what people turned Him into."
He studied her quietly, his brown eyes searching hers, not accusing, just steady.
"You ever think," he said softly, "that maybe God hates it too?"
That stopped her.
Her fingers froze mid-pick, and for a moment, she didn't know what to say.
"You think God hates what people do in His name?" she asked finally, her voice quieter.
"I think He grieves it," Levi replied. "But love doesn't give up, even when it's misunderstood."
I saw a write up about existence being chaos, about how people only pretend to have purpose.
Her head snapped up.
Lilian forced a smile. "You think anger and searching can mix?"
"Maybe they're the same thing," he said. "People who question God are often closer to Him than those who pretend to know all the answers."
She looked at him, unsure whether to be impressed or irritated. "You sound like you're trying to psychoanalyze me."
He laughed softly. "Maybe I'm just listening."
She sighed, glancing toward the door. "Meri's taking long."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe she's giving us time to argue theology."
She rolled her eyes. "If that's what this is, then you're losing."
Levi leaned back, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. "On the contrary, I think we're both learning."
She wanted to scoff, but instead, she found herself… smiling. Just then, Meri's voice echoed from outside: "Lili! I'm back oh!! Levi stood, his movements calm as always. "Guess the sermon's over."
She chuckled. "For now." As he passed her, he said quietly, "Don't let disappointment turn into disbelief. You might find meaning again when you stop running from it."
When he left, Lilian stared at the TV without seeing it. Her fingers itched to type something. A line, a thought, anything to empty the storm in her chest. But nothing came.
Just Levi's voice lingering in her head like a riddle she wasn't ready to solve.