Hypocrisy of men preaching gender equality (and the church’s homophobia!)

I HAD a gigantic hangover that morning, one impressively debilitating even by the standards of Rhodes University students. I had celebrated my birthday the night before, and before I was even fully awake, a knock at my res door forced me to wake up.

I dragged my tired body across the floor, all of about 3m or so, and opened it. A fellow Winchester House student told me that there was a woman at the front door who was here to see me. “Are you sure,” I asked. “Yes,” he said. I was not expecting any visitors.

My room was a mess, I smelt like the night before, reeking of someone who had been dancing at Pop Art Café on New Street, and whatever I might have had to keep the energy going. Still, I put on shorts, slops and walked to the front door.

Imagine my b****y surprise when a nun greeted me! Huh? What on earth was this about? I truly thought that I must be dreaming. Surely. She introduced herself (and being the nice older man that I have become I will spare her real name). “Hi. I am Sister Jennifer.” “Good morning Sister.” “How are you, Eusebius?”

She asked it very slowly, as if she had known me for years, and this was just a casual drop in to check on an adopted son who was now at university. It was freaky. I didn’t know this woman from a bar of Lifebuoy soap! Her quiet demeanour was quite disquieting! She was so chillaxed that it threw me off. No hint of the obvious fact that this must be awkward for me, that we are strangers, and that other boys were walking past us at the entrance of Winchester House. I invited her to my dirty room, and that itself required a harrowingly long walk down three passages. I walked in. And sat on my single bed.

“How are things in your life, Eusebius? Is everything still okay with you, spiritually?” I was convinced she was here to tell me that one of my family members was dead. I don’t know why I thought this. But I readied myself to cry like mad once she broke the news.

I told her that everything was still fine with me.

Still being in a post-party haze, I just could not think tactically. How could I get her to just b****y tell me why she had come? WHO ARE YOU? I could not utter any of the obvious questions. And she was eerily okay with remaining vague and mysterious. “Can we pray together Eusebius?” she asked. I told her that I really was okay. She told me to always remember the teachings of the Lord, and then promptly left.

I walked her out, went back to my room, and thought “WTF?”.

I was thinking of Sister Jennifer yesterday as I pondered the hypocrisy of men who preach gender equality on Women’s Day but secretly are the men who skewer them. Ah, hypocrisy!

I never heard from her again. No one had died in my family. And what had prompted her visit remained a mystery for the longest period. It was only a few years later that I accidentally found out what the heck her visit was all about. It turned out that Sister Jennifer had been sent to me by one of my aunts. I was furious.

She was a nun at the same congregation where my aunt was an active congregant. My dad had contacted my aunt to tell her that I had sent him a letter saying that I was attracted to men, and making it clear that I was a moffie – not even bisexual with the hope of marrying a woman one day but 100 percent moffie. And that freaked out my religious aunt who then sought advice from this nun. The nun was seconded to come to pray with me in the hope that perhaps a bit of faith feeling could do the trick before I became too deeply involved in the “unnatural act” of having sex with men.

Why couldn’t Sister Jennifer have offered to pray for my hangover instead? That would have been far more useful to my well-being than worrying about my same-sex attraction. Faith healing doesn’t work. Nor does the homophobia of the church help your gay son or lesbian daughter. Let them be.

Worry about your heterosexual relationship that gives you headaches. We’ll be okay – or no worse than you straight guys. I promise.

How’s this for irony? Years later I asked another aunt what had happened to Sister Jennifer now that we know God failed to stop me from loving men with gay abandon.

Sister Jennifer had left the church, was no longer a nun and now lives with a man.

The bloody agent simply wanted to ensure she has little competition once SHE had decided to come out of the asexual closet! Go(d) figure!