“Look at the book of Proverbs chapter six and verse six to nine” Rev continued with the sermon.
“The bible says ‘Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest. How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? When wilt thou arise out of thy sleep? Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep: So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man’” He continued and before we knew it, he started addressing Gedion Obiero directly. “Gideon, you are making young people very lazy! Feeding and giving them a place to sleep without reminding them that they should work hard to earn a living” He continued.
That evening Gideon asked all of us to leave his house and get back to our respective parents. He however exempted Musa Maganga Juma from leaving as his case was very special. Each of us was wondering where to go. I dreamt about going but to Mamboleo to continue toiling with the fish and muraa luggage; the dream was more of a horror. That night, the Holy Spirit must have spoken to Gideon as the next morning, he requested us to stay as “my calling requires me to stay with people who need my help”. That was how I remained there for close to three months before voluntarily returning to Mamboleo. Lazarus on the other hand left immediately. He rented a small single roomed semi-permanent house across the road. He enjoyed every bit of freedom he had been yearning for.
My covenant friend, Oscar Nyalenge, had by that time rented a house in Manyatta Siany Estate a.k.a Koyango. That estate was very swampy especially during the rainy season. His house was a semi-permanent one with a communal toilet at the far end of the plot. Monthly rent was about three hundred and fifty Kenya shillings for the small room and a kitchen. Oscar at a point shared with me how enjoyable it was to live alone as opposed to eating free food while under the bondage of parents. That was when I asked my dad to allow me move in with Oscar for sometime before landing into a decent job. Dad allowed me under one condition – he would cease paying my college fees forthwith. I made a deal and left.
I began to realize that Oscar and I were so
different in nature. I loved making jokes while he never felt
comfortable with the jokes. My style of prayer was – LOUD in underlined, bold capital letters, he liked whispering to God. I never loved cooking – he was a cook from his mother’s womb.
He surely knew how to cook omena with little oil and some milk
sprinkled on the eyes of those small fish. I realized that I was veryarudha arudha (very
fast) with some fake twengs (sp); a fact that Oscar had to deal with in
humility. I remember him coming to the pulpit, one time, as if he was
bringing a seed, only to whisper in my ears “people are not
understanding you – please speak slowly and normally”. The Spirit almost
left me right there but I controlled myself. At least a handful got
saved.careless unlike Oscar who was very organized. Otherwise we lived and went into every gospel meeting together. Those days, I used to speak
Oscar noted a funny behavior in one of the girls’ schools, in Nyando district, which he brought to my attention. All the ladies who came for prayers were falling down under the “power of the anointing”. To me it was just normal - not to Oscar.
“Have you realized that all the ladies in this school fall when you pray for them” He queried
“Yes brother. These girls are so submissive to the Spirit of God” I replied cautiously as Oscar never began such topics without something under his sleeve.
“I think there is something you’re not aware of. Thank God I have pictures to prove my point” he continued. This Oscar guy used to take pictures in all our meetings.
“Most of these ladies fall forward instead of backwards. Why?” he asked
“Because I do not push them, they follow the stimuli of the power of God emanating from my anointed hands of clay” I responded.
“What happens when they fall forward? You notice in this picture, you’re busy rescuing a lady from falling face first. Look at your hands of clay” He continued with some sarcastic smile on his face.
“It was not intentional brother” I retorted.
After such a discussion, I realized that some of these ladies wanted me, the anointed man of God, to touch their milk tanks a.k.a bright futures and the only way was to rush to the pulpit, at every alter call, and fall forward whenever I laid my anointed hands on them. I was so clueless until Brother Oscar opened my innocent but darkened eyes. It was also customary for ladies to seek counseling after the service. We would sit down in an open space with Oscar waiting to handle serious counseling issues. We had never gone to any counseling class or anything related to that. Osh, as we used to call him, always had a shorter line than mine as he was very strict and to the point unlike me who was always smiling and praying for almost all the individual cases. Some of the girls were just crazy silly, giving us trouble during these sessions with the farfetched lust issues. (why do I feel I had said this somewhere?)
God gave us wisdom. Generally, we lived well with Oscar wuod Nyalenge despite our difference in opinion and character.
I later landed in a not so well paying teaching job which could at least sustain my very simple lifestyle. Despite the heavy work and meager salary, I decided to get the bull by its horns. Oscar and I agreed to leave separately. I moved to another similar house in Oscar’s neighborhood. I was paying a whooping four hundred Kenya shillings, though the house was exactly similar to that of Oscar. We were literally living in the slum for lack of a better word but we trusted God for a better future. I prayed and hoped against hope for a day when I could own a motor bike; that would surely rescue me from the tedious work of riding a bicycle to and from work. My friend and former classmate, Abala, was riding on a company motorbike. He continuously ridiculed my bicycle with unpalatable jokes to a point that I decided to stay aloof. Statements like “Migingo, I sympathize with you when you have to use a lot of energy, on your bicycle, especially when going up the slopes. Imagine it is effortless of a motorbike” He mocked. I forgave him for he knew not the damage he was causing to the innocent Migingo. This gave me more motivation to work hard for a better future.
The
job I got required me to teach Kenya Accounting Technicians Certificate
(KATC) Intermediate and Final classes. We were just a few guys, in
Kisumu, who had managed to walk through KATC Final then. Our services
were needed all over though at a pathetic consideration. I did not like
where I was staying but I had to prove myself as a man – a man who could
break from the walls of coercion and dependency; and live freely and
securely alone. Living alone had its own challenges in the dusty city of
Kisumu. The dust was too much until we ,one time at Oile Park, prayed
for rain. Our prayers were answered in double portions almost
immediately. The heavens opened the flood gates and it poured cats and
dogs. I was so proud of this God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob for sending
us rain. Everybody in the park was amazed at how God could answer
prayers so fast!After the rains, I rode my bicycle back to my humble abode whistling and praising God for answering our prayers and shaming the devil. I did not believe my eyes on arrival at Koyango – it was flooded with water right from Koyango Market with a slow flow towards the direction of my house. Reversed roles played its part as I had to carry my bicycle nyagongo-gongo while penetrating the swamp through to my house. I made a mistake of opening the door so fast; the plates, sufurias and other utensils were floating on water in one accord trying to make their way through the water filled door to join in the free flow of water, downstream. “The devil is a liar!” I shouted. One of the sufurias had some left over fried meat that was meant for my supper – I had to drop the bike without winking to enable me grab the sufuria.
I stood akimbo in the messy but flowing water with the sufuria in my hands. I wondered my next move. Reality downed on me – I was staying alone. Oscar also had the same problem and therefore I had to die my own death. This was not the time to think about how rich my dad was and how he was now sitting with my step mom at the fireplace far away from the swampy waters. I had to wait for about an hour, keeping myself busy with encouraging Luo Christian hymns. When the water had subsided, I prepared a great meal, in that filthy environment, while thanking God for the answered prayer. I told God to give us just enough rain the next time we ask for it. I then retired on a mattress less bed as the soft matter was also water saturated.
That was how staying alone greeted me.
Yours in abundant waters
Migingo Awat.
Ja-Koyango
