I’ve been brought up as the single child in a fairly stable and generally happy household. We did not do Bible study as such, and my parents were certainly not fanatical church goers. Still, I was expected to attend Sunday school and KJA (a church initiative for the youth, featuring fun events like Sunday night koffiekroeg, beach outings and watching Fiddler on the Roof).
In later years, there was also that examinable theology-lite course on Heidelberg Catechism, which, whether you studied or not, directly culminated in a full-blown Dutch Reformed Church membership. I seem to remember a lot of round stamps that we had to stick into a white folder, one for every year of completion.
Meanwhile at home, religious impositions were more or less restricted to the muting of the blaring theme music to the A-Team so that my dad could say grace before meals. Now that was annoying: our TV at the time - an old Telefunken PAL colour that outlived three successive family dogs - had no remote control, even when it was still a young TV. If you are the only child never encourage your folks to purchase a remoteless anything. I found Sunday school utterly boring (in Afrikaans there is a wonderful term describing exactly this: sielsdodend), and I was probably not a very good Christian.
I can recall only one occasion during my early teens when I was so completely convinced and overpowered by the holy ghost, that, while walking home alone late one night after “koffiekroeg” I found myself loudly croaking “Praat ek mense engele tale” in my tortured pubescent range. But it was only that once, and I never again experienced such a mindless certainty about anything supernatural. During the next twenty years, my Christianity became an ever growing source of embarrassment. I became ever more uncomfortable with it. Something wasn’t quite right - little did I know. When asked to do a prayer in public, it felt very insincere, and always cut it short to a few sentences. Then in my thirties, I decided to call it a day.
Would it have been any different if I grew up completely godless from day one instead of letting my faith peter out from that day when I loudly sang 9th symphony spin-offs in the streets? I think yes. Try as I may, and even though my religious upbringing was very mild in comparisson to some of my friends, it still left a bitter taste, and maybe some resentment, that I was exposed to religion at all. Because of it, I suspect I am perhaps too aggressive and proud an atheist. But then again, I was only a lackluster Christian, and, just maybe, it is now time to strive towards exceptional atheism. 
Rigil
