"God forbid!" She yelled and one by one, she squeezed all the papers containing the test results, to the bewilderment of the doctor. "My God is not a God of infirmities. He didn't die on the cross for my child to have diseases."

"Diseases come and go. Proper treatment is not idolatry, madam." The doctor wanted to explain further, tell her that good hygienic conditions could have prevented most of the diseases that are brought in daily, that she did not even have the right to be angry, but her glare shut him up.

Now, as the red dust slowly covers the brown coffin laid six feet deep, I watch Helen wail, held back by two women who probably fear she would jump in. Sogo's classmates are here, staring in disbelief even as the coffin disappears under the weight of the earth. Their friend couldn't possibly be gone, their graduation was only a couple of weeks away. The pastor continues to talk about God's will and how his ways are not our ways. He said we lost but the heavens gained.

"God, why? God, I served you faithfully. God, I paid my tithe. God, why me?" She continues to scream, while onlookers shake their head as though they understood exactly how she felt. Watching her, anger surges through me. I feel pity for the boy whose saving did not cost more than ten thousand naira, the boy whose mother claimed had already been saved by the precious blood.

Truly, faith is believing blindly. Faith is hoping, trusting, waiting. I have heard the story of the woman who prayed her rosary into a cup of water and drank it everytime her head ached. I have also heard of the woman who refused CS and ran to church to deliver her baby. Faith defies logic. I consider faith a gift because some of us are not capable of surrendering completely, hoping for a tadaaa from God.

As I watch Helen thrash around and scream while the people around her struggle with her wrapper that had fallen to the floor, I realise that faith is not foolish stubbornness. The doctor is not your enemy, the sickness is. Getting medication or taking blood transfusion does not mean you have betrayed Jesus.

Faith, when misused stops being a gift and changes into a curse. Helen was going to live with the aftermath of her faith now. Her son's empty bedroom, cleared of his belongings. His pictures folded away so that she wouldn't see him everywhere. Everything would haunt her; his laugh, his grumpiness, even his favourite snack. His mates would go on to the university and achieve all the things her son could have also achieved.

If only she did not have faith...