Portable: The Reason for the Season By Bamidele Johnson

Portable: The Reason for the Season

The visually-offensive Portable and Pasuma, from media reports, performed at a Celestial Church of Christ Thanksgiving event. Some way to thank and praise Jehovah Nissi, Jehovah El-Shaddai, who must have found it breathtakingly edifying to see His alleged children get drunk on music by the two musicians, one of whom is weapons-grade bonkers.

But credit where due. So, thumbs up to the Shepherd of the parish for standing up to or persuading one of the leaders of the church, who’d tried to call off performances by the two artistes. Whatever tool he used to have the church leader greenlight the performances entitles him to the title of disruptor.

Predicrably, Portable is getting more post-performance attention. I don’t think people found videos of Pasuma’s performance worthy of release on social media. There’s a chance I’m wrong, but I haven’t seen any. News reports said he sang gospel songs the fuji way. Hardly unexpected, given that he is a “fujitive”. He’d have to be content with playing second fiddle to Portable, whose more energetic demented cat stage mannerism and chicken-on-the-rotisserie routine got the delighted crowd mooing like cows.

He was the star of the story; the parish’s reason for the season. He even wore sutana or sultana (don’t know the spelling) and was genuinely funny, asking to be pelted with with naira bundles instead of notes, which he said-in jest-that church members were picking. Were Pasuma and Portable barefooted? No proof that they complied or did not with a non-negotiable Cele entry requirement. That observation may not really matter, given that the performances were not in the church building, which they take as the equivalent of the biblical burning bush.

But I wonder how self-identified Muslims are the right fit for a church programme with a stated objective of soul winning. The parish shepherd must have got his wires badly crossed. One of them calls himself “Omo Iyawo Anobi” (son of the Prophet’s wife). “E yin Oloun logo o de mo mosalasi, aluwala mosa mosa (maza maza) o de soosi” is what I know. That Yoruba saying, the origin of which I have no idea, means “praise the Lord” is an anathema in a mosque, while the call to “quickly perform ablution” is the same in a church. The age of anathema may have begun its march into history. Who knows?

Whether or not an error was made, it must have been a great experience for members of that parish and its neighbours. I suspect that the big-bootied among the women, abetted by the famously transparent white garment, woulda put a few prominent bum cheeks and gluteal clefts on conspicuous display while dancing. The men must have been gasping and gently whispering “Luli” and “Jerimoyamah” in muted lechery.

I may be in the minority, but I think the modern church, including its soi disant Bible-believing arm, isn’t a soul winning enterprise. It is for aggrandisement and filthy lucre. Its directing minds view church doors as turnstiles. But unlike at a stadium, congregants don’t pay until they get in. That’s the difference. You need consistent performance to keep fans coming through the turnstiles. That killed the church.

The church was finished when joke-cracking pastors, backed up by strumming guitars and drum kits with keyboard accompaniment and, eventually, comedians, were deemed necessary to draw in congregants who, like North Koreans, are expected to spend their waking hours praising the leader.

Having Portable perform, in a church, his repertoire of deranged songs for soul winning was bold and wrong as with having comedians. Wronger moves will be made, I believe. Sooner than later, that is. Not going to rule out belly dancers, strippers and shisha sessions in a church, which could even add vibrator repair service providers to cater to sexually-marginalised members. O ti zeh.