THE TALES OF THE INNOCENT MIGINGO (Part 18)

George Ocholla and James Odiwuor were two young men who closely walked with the saved old men in the renowned East African Revival Fellowship. They had been acquainted to singing the “Tukutenderesa Yesu” song to an extent that they even behaved more mature as compared to their actual ages. They later convinced Oscar and I to join the fellowship where we were required to give our testimonies on our very first visit. Our testimonies did not move the old men. They asked us to sit in the feet of ‘Gamaliel’ to get more direction. Every other person had the same lines in their testimonies making the whole idea of fellowship very boring. The testimonies went like this:

“Opak Ruoth owete gi nyimine” (Praise the Lord Brothers and Sisters)

“An ma unena ka ok alongo e nyim Nyasaye” (As you see me here, I’m not righteous before God)

“An ja richo kaachie kodu” (I’m a sinner together with you)

“To asiko mana ka alokra aloka e remo” (But I keep repenting under the blood)

“Nyocha wuoda man Nairobi okowona sukari kilo apar wapake Ruoth” (My son from Nairobi sent me 10kgs of sugar, lets praise the Lord)

“Nyara ma yande otedo Kabuoch bende yande omako ich ma onyuolo wuowi. Wapake Ruoth” (My daughter who got married in Kabuoch got pregnant and delivered a baby boy. Lets praise the Lord)

Kabuoch is a place in South Nyanza where it’s said that people’s apparatus; do not have the capacity to be called assets but liabilities. That’s why when a lady was married in Kabuoch, it took a miracle for her to get a baby.

As much as I did not like the testimonies, I convinced myself that maybe I was the one who was a bit impatient and had to cultivate some level of endurance. Indeed I was a novice with only four years in salvation. I managed to attend two Revival Fellowship Camps at Chulaimbo and Maseno High Schools. When we made it to Chulaimbo, we were told that the word “youth” was prohibited since a “youth” was somebody who was a bloody sinner. Those were the days when the chief would send youths to the villages to forcefully take cash “donations” for the purpose of purchasing gifts for the visiting District Commissioners’, Provincial Commissioners’ or even District Education Officers. Having no cash would risk your only thuon gweno (cock) as the youth would chase the poor thing around and turn it into delicious soup for the so called visiting government officials. We surely did not deserve to be called “youths” kidhedhe or even Oyoro Tho. We were officially referred to as Owete matindo (young brethren). The work of Owete matindo was to serve Owete Madongo (Old brethren) during and after the camp.

Oscar, Rhoda & I in my step mother's house

I vividly remember the day we traveled to Chulaimbo from Reru. The day was so chilly with scattered drops of rain making the forty kilometer journey very gruesome. A few of us had bicycles while the rest of the community managed on foot.  When we arrived at Chulaimbo, Owete Madongo were directed to the well furnished dormitories while the rest of us, Owete matindo, were told to wait for “further instructions”. The very old, weary but powerful preachers spoke their hearts out on how they became Christians. We all enjoyed the powerful messages. When time to sleep came, every old person disappeared into the dormitories as we were left in the tent wondering our next move. An old man then appeared with pregnant testimony of how they went to “bring salvation from Uganda”. He explained how they suffered on their way to and from that foreign land. “Where is he heading to” a young man whispered. “Young brethren, we were even forced to sleep on banana leaves and stems for the sake of the gospel” He hit the nail on the head. Immediately, we smelt trouble. Something very fishy was cooking..it must have been a shark. This guy was a real fisher of men.

That night we slept in the classrooms; some on the lockers, others on the floor and the rest joined seats together to make a something close to a bed. I managed to sleep on the some joined hardboard seats. I can’t clearly remember whether Oscar and James slept on the lockers too but I could hear their voices in the same cell. Throughout the night, a fellow young brother, from Siaya, seriously lamented at the torturous experience we were going through. He instigated us to revolt against the leadership of the old brethren - he did not get any following. The following night, we did the obvious – slept on the banana leaves and we were encouraged ourselves in the Lord – but the owner of the banana plantation was not very happy with us anyway. Rules were so tight; we were not even allowed to interact with the beautiful sisters. In fact ladies had their separate queues during meal times. After the Chulaimbo and Maseno camps, young men ran from the Revival Fellowship. Oscar and I joined Kenya Students Christian Fellowship (KSCF) (http://kscf.org/). James and George Ocholla later joined us and we worked very well in reaching the students in high schools. Within less than two years I had preached in over one hundred schools.

Preaching in funerals and local churches did not have any financial benefit. I had to think of something I could do part time as I needed money to have much impact not only in my village but also in the surrounding villages; high schools notwithstanding. Photography hit my mind and I went for it with the support of my dad. Young windows would call me to take their photos with some asking me to take them in their birth suit – an idea I could not give even the slightest thought. Taking photos of kissing couples was never in my domain. In short, I had thinned my customer base to descent photos only. I would help my mom with the farm in the mornings, tether the animals and ran to the lake to the lakeside to take photos. In many occasions I would ride on my bike to and from Kisumu for picture printing. Kisumu is about forty kilometers from my village. My dad claimed that such kind of bike riding would interfere with my apparatus.

The photography business became so interesting until I started doing it just for fun. I then embarked on ferrying water, for sale, from Achuow dam to Reru market. Dad had bought two donkeys that were very obedient to me for some time. I had to wake up very early, fetch water for resale then get to the farm to help my mother, come back to tether the cattle and prepare for evening school ministry. My schedule was too tight to an extent that even my own dad missed my presence.

Dad was a very hard nut to crack but I wanted him to get saved anyway. I knew he loved to flirt and the only person who would bring him to Christ would be a lady. We arranged and asked one Rhoda Onyango, my spiritual mom, to come over and talk him to Christ. Instead of Dad receiving the message of salvation, he began to question Rhoda on the reasons for her long stay as a single lady. It was a case of the hunter becoming the hunted and Ondiek chamo wendone (a hyena eating its visitor).

School ministry wasn’t an easy task. Students, especially the ladies, would come up with very mind-blowing questions to me, a young preacher. A lady once came to me for counseling and she had a problem with men. “Brother Awat, I always feel like I need a man. This is my biggest issue” She said “Even now?” I asked “Yes even now!” she replied. The way she was looking at me suggested that the human being would jump at me any second if I continued with the counseling. I used to counsel them in the field where everybody could see; this helped me avoid so many temptations things with the girls. “The problem gets worse just before and after my periods. Like now my periods ended just yesterday” She continued. At that point I knew even the dwarfs would turn into giants. I handed over the sensitive case to the lady C.U patron. Matters of ladies mouse was never my area of expertise.

George Ocholla, Migingo Awat & Allan Oloko

There was this other case where a lady was raped by a so called Japolo (Man of Heaven). Jopolo (plural for Japolo) were those long bearded people walking around in white robes pretending to prophecy about the future of the unsuspecting individuals. Most of them were from Roho Fueny Church, Roho Msalaba, Legio Maria and such indigenous churches. This form two lady used to fail in class and the mother felt that there were some spirits behind this.

“So my mother took me to this Japolo in Kolweny ” She narrated.

“Japolo prayed for me that day but did not allow me to go back home with my mother. I was left alone with him for night prayers.” She continued

“Your mother left you alone for the night with another man!!” I exclaimed.

“Yes. She trusted him so much due to the fact that this Japolo was in my dad’s age-group. She knew he was so descent for any indecent act”. She responded

“He woke me up in the middle of the night for prayers. That’s when he started touching me everywhere without my consent. I tried to scream but he covered my mouth with his hands” She continued in horror with tears rolling down from her deeply depressed eyes.

“Brother Awat, Japolo raped me! I felt excruciating pain – the kind of pain I cannot describe in words. I was a virgin!!” the lady said amidst painful sobs.

“When did this happen?” I enquired

“About six weeks ago. When I told my mom about it, she asked me to stop accusing Japolo falsely. She caned me insisting that I was lying!” She responded with loud scream, the kind of scream that has refused to leave my ears 15 years down the line.

“Brother Awat, I contacted gonorrhea from that experience” She added.

“Oh, my sister. I’m sorry. ” I whispered in her ears with a deep urge to give her a comforting hug.

“Did you manage to contain the disease? What about pregnancy – have you gone for a test?” I asked hurriedly.

“I managed to use my pocket money to secretly seek treatment. I never got pregnant as the ordeal happened during my safe period” She responded.

She deserved a comforting hug but that would not suffice as it would lead to my automatic disqualification from preaching in that school again. I decided to forward the issue to the C.U patron but the lady seriously begged me out of the idea claiming that her parents had warned her against dragging the name of Japolo into such issues. Japolo had told her parents that the demons in their daughter were responsible for the false accusation. As much as I was begged to conceal the horrific experience of the lady, I felt the need of sharing with my KSCF Kisumu Team who took over the matter. The sixteen year old lady did not deserve such a punishment.

Yours in God’s Service

Migingo Awat