Man called out church workers at the Synagogue Church of All Nations after he received a bad treatment #CAPondaRUN
A Nigerian man identified as Ivan Lawson has called out church workers at the Synagogue Church of All Nations after he received a bad treatment from them #CAPondaRUN
In the post he shared on Facebook, the young man noted that he attended the church because he admires the founder, Pastor Temitope Balogun Joshua.
Lawson claimed that his mother and his driver were also treated with disrespect at the church. He claimed that they were interrogated like they were suspects of a crime. The young man urged pastors of prominent churches in Nigeria to call church workers to order and asked that they respect members.
Read his post below:
"Well…I have been watching Prophet TB Joshua on Emmanuel TV for sometime now and I must say that I find his ministry pretty captivating. Of course,being someone who believes in miracles,it is no news that I would want to be a TB Joshua fan.The simplicity,and graceful humility the man exudes in his ministrations causes my heart to warm.
Momma is due for return on Friday,so I decided to convince her to let us attend Sunday Service there 2 days ago and experience the raw glory of the prophet! Ikotun is pretty far from central Lagos metropolis,so I had to arrange for my driver to skip his church and drive us down. We left home by 3.30am to beat the sea of people that mill in there round the clock. So here we are on Sunday morning at the popular Synagogue church.Driver finds a convenient parking space,and we all hop out and amble into the premises unashamedly awe-stricken at the impressive exterior decor of the towering buildings. It’s around 5.30am. A COLD WELCOME: As we stroll past the first barricade to enter the front entrance of the church,a group of Ushers accost us,or rather halted us.
They ask us if this was our first time,and when we affirmed it was–a mature looking female usher stepped forward and rudely ordered us to go to the back tent,that only full-time members were allowed to come into the main church. This lady never even offered us a welcoming smile,or warm greetings to somewhat palliate us for all the traffic stress,painfully early wake-up,and hours of road journey we braved to be there. She just stood there barking commands rudely at us like some aggravated platoon lieutenant calling to order a group of annoying rankless recruits.
I visibly winced at the cold welcome the widely acclaimed Synagogue Church accorded us on our visit and I could feel the volcano broiling deep down inside me itching to vent. Mannerless people don’t irritate me as much as mannerless people who don’t consider elderly people when they want to spout their insolence. Be mannerless to me in public all you want—we can slug it out to the end all we want,and I can give you a healthy piece of my mind.But when my mother or any elder I respect or hold in high esteem is involved,just be prepared because the b*tch in me would be unleashed. So it was with supreme effort that my mum and the driver dragged me past that saucy group of first Ushers.
I was sure I wanted to get back to the car and spirit myself home without further ado.I didn’t drive over 30 miles to come and be treated like horse p*ss,and I wouldn’t subject my mother to such nonsense either. In all my years in this world,I had never seen such rudeness from church workers that were supposed to smile pleasantly at new-comers and welcome them into church. So past the gate I reluctantly allowed myself to be led,wondering which of the ‘back-tents’ we were expected to walk into–cos there were several tent-like structures splattered around the premises,and not a SINGLE usher or warden to direct us.
The ones with tags we saw who looked important simply waved us aside or outrightly hurried past us when we asked for directions. They all looked grim, furious and hostile. Finally after wondering around in disjointed circles like 3 tropical millipedes with Jet-lag,we 3 were told by another new-comer that we had to obtain a permit/pass which would only give us access to the over-flow. As we herded into the crowded tent to queue up behind nothing less than 750 random new-comers,I noticed a female Usher yelling at a girl. Everyone turned in their general direction.
Aunty Usher/women leader was rudely telling the girl that her skirt was too short and she shouldn’t linger around the queue or else she’d summon the police to drag her out of the premises. I turned to look at the lady being harrassed.Her skirt was a little above her knees,but not overly vulgar or indecent per se. I also noticed that she had one of the best pair of legs and figures I have seen in this part of the world. Deaconess mean-faced usher was obviously envious that God wasn’t impartial when he was sharing out body parts and beauty.
But a new-comer?? Embarrassing her like that?Good grief!! THE WAIT: I was already feeling unwell by the time I joined the queue. Eventually,we were carted to another tent and made to seat down for 2 hours waiting for the permits to be issued. Suddenly a voice boomed out from the public address intercom in the hall and instructed foreign visitors/delegates to move to the left side of the hall,and present their ID cards for reception.
I was seated conversing with my mother when one dehydrated-looking male Usher walks up to me and lightly taps my shoulder,I swivel my neck around to him,and he asks me whether I heard the announcement. I rooster my head quizzically at him,and he asks whether I’m Nigerian.I am recoiling my tongue in to mouth out some sarcastic retort at the rude clown when my mum intervenes laughing convivially and telling him that she’s my mother and I live in Nigeria. He deliberately ignores my mother and repeats his question to me. I take a deep breath and bluntly tell him to go and anoint someone else with his mouth odour.I remind him that it’s only about 7am and my lungs deserve better. Dude obviously didn’t see that coming. He stands there like the confounded dolt he is,blinking his eyes methodically and saying,’EXCUSE ME?’ on a loop.
Momma is trying to pacify and mediate or explain or whatever when the announcement on the buzzer summons us all to re-queue for our passes.I help momma up and we begin to trudge towards the sea of bodies heading west.I think the Usher is explaining something to his colleague and pointing at me,but I am past caring at this point. SECURITY HARRASSMENT AND SEGREGATION: So we’ve obtained the passes and are queueing up again to enter the church from the rear wing and join the worshippers. Men and women are sorted into 2 separate rows where they are thoroughly frisked and searched before being allowed entry. My driver is right behind me on the queue,and as the person ahead of me steps into the church entrance archway to be cleared,I overhear the