The third time, in a space of three minutes, I was summoned. Religion was relentless and clearly offended by this mere mortal, and so I said: “tell her to fuck off. And get my kids out of that gathering - Joy Isi Bewaji"

When I moved to my own apartment, three years ago, I would allow my kids join my neighbours for Sunday evening prayers. i believe prayers can come in handy, one way or another, so I let the kids pray.

It wasn’t so long after they joined, that I was summoned by some prophetess to hurry down to my neighbour’s house for prayers. She had the 411 on my future, my heart desires, my life. I rolled my eyes and told my children’s nanny to tell her and her crew that I was busy.

But religion will not have that, no way! Its aggressive and intrusive nature would find me rude and shocking. So I was called upon the second time; and for a second time I told my nanny to deliver the same message: I am busy!

The third time, in a space of three minutes, I was summoned. Religion was relentless and clearly offended by this mere mortal.

And so I said: “tell her to fuck off. And get my kids out of that gathering."

I would choose death, quite easily, over fear. I do not want to live afraid.

What is the worst that can possibly happen to a human being? Poverty is worse than death. I assume death to be soothing.

The lucky ones are dead. Look at my friend Sylvester, he is not here anymore to deal with the issues plaguing this sick dumb nation. He is not here to read stories of Pakistan women killed like rats for falling in love, for getting pregnant and stoned to death by their own fathers. He is not here to imagine the depravity taking place in the lives of young girls abducted by terrorists. The conspiracies are not for him to worry about anymore.

And religion, with all the shit in the world, is trying to keep me alive and afraid.

What is that?