Our
gate was such a noisy one with two very huge dogs barking within the
compound, keeping everybody awake and at bay. Any attempt to sneak a
daughter of Zion would not pass unnoticed. Dad patiently waited, in
vain, for noise from the gate in the middle of the night. He had to sit
me down and inquire if I really knew stomachs.
I was a different tongue speaking, demon chasing heavenly bound
brother. I was living with the hope that one day I will perpendicularly
ascend into heaven where angels would gladly receive me.the use of the assets hanging loosely between my legs. Those were the days when fathers would be proud to hear village rumours about their sons inflating ladies
One day Rose Simiyu visited me with a more beautiful friend hers; a friend who knew a lot about languages; French, German, Clean Pure English with no Luhya interference, sweet Swahili and Maragoli Languages. She was such a linguistic queen! She was so beautiful with a birthmark dot on her cheeks; her shape was just irresistible. She almost stole my heart but I managed to wrestle that devil to the ground. I took them to the village to see my mother. My insistence on making them sleep at my step mom’s house raised eyes brows; it was a confirmation to my dad that I was long lilo. Long lilo is a man whose apparatus have gone to be with the Lord forever. Alseba, my grandma, insisted that I marry Rose’s friend as she was, according to her, more refined and beautiful than Rose. This Alseba woman knew how to convince me into some stuff but not every day was a Sunday. Dad, on the other hand, never wanted me to marry either of them; he just wanted me to put, my lethal anaconda into some practical assignment awaiting the main game at the appointed time.
The following month, Rose came alone to Mamboleo – at my request. This girl was very bright, she caught my attention this time round but I was not ready to make any meaningful commitment to any lady. I had to set the records straight so that I would not waste her time. When the night came, dad presumed that my lethal injection was ready for work this time round, only to wake up in the wee hours of the night to find his presumed ‘daughter in law to be” sleeping on the main house couch. That day, dad almost banished me from his home for displaying characters depicting me in negative light. He rushed to my room and read Quran for me for almost thirty minutes. I was a serious embarrassment to him. Dad even complained to my friend, Oscar Nyalenge, when he came visiting that morning but I was so deep in the word of God to an extent that my whole body was saturated with the verses of the Bible. Nothing would make me look back. We agreed to remain great friends. I even visited her in her home with so much fish. Her parents were so happy with me – who wouldn’t? I couldn’t just think of marriage or anything related to that at that tender age of twenty one.
My brother George, was happily married to Karnael a.k.a Nyar Ringa (Nyaringa). Nyaringa and I were very good friends; she used to happily do my laundry every weekend as well as those of her hubby. (I beg to stop it at that lest my brother swallows me alive).
I used to go to Deliverance Church – Kisumu, situated at the Shaurimoyo Grounds. My pastor and spiritual mentor, Rev. Paul Oselu (Now Bishop), was so strict on us. We couldn’t dare mess around at whatever cost. He was my role model. In those days, Ramogi Institute of Advanced Technology (RIAT) was situated at RIAT Center next to Kibuye Market, a stone throw away from our church. The students from the college would visit our church on almost every meeting. We were very happy to site some outstandingly beautiful figures – Mwanahawa Hussein Winnie and Jean Mutua Walubengo among others. Mwanahawa would move people with her testimony on how she became a Christian despite her Islamic background. At Oile Park, some Muslims promised to kill her before long but the Lord protected her from them. Musa Maganga Juma was also another friend who broke out from his Islamic background. When his dad chased him away with a machete, he found refuge in our then Youth Chairman, Gedion Obiero (Now Pastor at Kitengela).
Gedion Obiero was a man after God’s own heart.
This guy turned his house into a rescue centre with all young men who
had no place to reside finding refuge in his house. I also joined him
some time later when I became tired of working myself throughout the
night with the fish massacre business. That time we were about ten men
in the one bedroom house situated at Manyata Estate. We could pray our
hearts out with Ishmael Obiero playing his accordion loudly as the rest
of us clapped our hands in praise to the Almighty. Neither the landlord,
who was our immediate neighbor, nor the other tenants complained about
our noise. Some of the brothers in the house had the grace to pray with
one eye open but for me I closed both eyes. These brothers managed to
notice the landlord’s daughter, Beril. This lady swept the young men off
their feet. The brothers would come with many prayer items concerning
Beryl. “Let’s pray for Beryl, she has been unwell for the last few days”
“Let’s remember Beryl in our prayers” “Let’s pray for Beryl’s father”
“Beryl……” Too many prayer items on behalf of the seemingly innocent
girl. Beryl on the other hand was unaware of the commotion she was
causing in the neighborhood. I wonder why nobody, among the brothers,
dared approach her for her hand in marriage.Prayer items increased when a brother, Chris Atemo, from Redeemed Gospel Church started hovering around. Chris was an organized, handsome smart young man who knew how to calculate his steps very well. He would come most of the mornings and escort the lady to Kisumu Poly and somehow escort her back in the evening in the full glare of the deliverance Church brothers. The bad news was that Beryl never noticed any of these DC brothers. Maybe they did not position themselves where Beryl was looking. (I have to cut this short as Beryl and Chris are now happily married. They are both pastors. If you want to learn the tactics of catching your own Beryl, please see Pastor Chris with a good seed).
I continued going to schools with the gospel.
- “The tales are too long” were the complaints from some of you. I’ve decided to reduce them from 2000 plus words to less than 1300 words. Happy now?
Yours Single and comfortable,
Migingo Awat
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