When we parted ways last week, I was in Ejinja, a small market centre not far from Mumias, being hosted by my cousin as I bought time before my return to Mwisho wa Lami. To bring up to speed those who have not been to Jerusalem, Prophetess Perepetua Elkana, the Spiritual Prophetess of Modern Day Saints, and the first and only wife to Revered Apostle Elkana, the Spiritual Superintendent of The Holiest of All Ghosts (THOAG) Tabernacle Assembly, had instigated my arrest, demanding that I produce Elkana, as in her words, I was the only person who had been seen last with him.
She had asked for me to be incarcerated until I produced the man of God. But I had bought my freedom and was released, but with a caution that I do not go home directly, that I stay away for at least two weeks, lest I spite the woman of God.
Life in Ejinja, a sleepy market centre, was nice. It was a perfect hideout. The local Hitler had stuff that was five times more potent compared to the water the Mwisho wa Lami’s Hitler sells, and given that I had nothing to do most of the day, I found myself spending there most of the time.
After informing Fiolina that I was a free man, I kept my phone off most of the time, and every time I switched it on, I would get notifications of many people who had tried to call me. From Nyayo to Saphire, Lena to Sella, my dad to my aunt – Senje Albina. Even my nemesis Kuya had called. He had followed up with an SMS asking me if I was safe.
I had called back. “I am sorry to hear that you were arrested over a matter I know you are innocent of,” he told me when I called back. I told him that was true but assured him that I was fine, and that he needed not worry about me. I was safe.
“I am at an undisclosed place,” I told him that I was now free. He told me that people were very worried about my whereabouts and urged that I needed to return to Mwisho wa Lami if I was free. “As your HOI, I need to report your whereabouts to TSC.” I have been an HM, and I am now an HOI and I’m not aware of any requirement to report travel whereabouts during school holidays. What hurt me most was him referring to himself as my HOI; yet he was my deputy, and I was his boss.
On Wednesday, I switched my phone on and decided to only pick the calls I wanted to and to ignore the rest. From around midday, my phone started ringing – incessantly. Saphire, Nyayo, and Rasto, flashed me expecting me to call back. My sister Caro and Mwisho wa Lami’s cabinet secretary for misinformation, miscommunication and broadcasting lies sent me multiple “please call me” messages. Even Fiolina called me. I picked up her third call.
“Hello dear, how are you?” I said when I picked up the call. She was surprised, for that is never how I start calls. I usually start with “Sema.” She was taken aback by the sweet start.
“Are you ok?” she wondered. “You must be committing some sins, and you are using nice words so that I can’t tell, but just know I have my eyes in Ejinja.” I assured her that I was as clean as cotton.
“What!” I exclaimed, asking when he had returned. She told me that he had arrived an hour earlier, and people were headed to his house to welcome him.
“Please come back; no one can now ask you to produce him as he has produced himself.” I called back Nyayo, Rasto, and Saphire, all of whom confirmed to me that the village was abuzz with activity following Apostle Elkana’s return. “The sleepy village is, once again, very busy and vibrant. I didn’t know we had been missing the good man of God,” said Nyayo.
I thought about going back to Mwisho wa Lami the same day but decided against it; I did not want to take the thunder from the Apostle’s return, so I travelled back on Friday, arriving at midday. As soon as I alighted from Msamaria Mwema at midday, word of my return also spread like bushfire. For over a week, word about my police abduction had spread. And since I had had my phone off most of the time, with many people unable to reach me, rumours had started spreading that I was no more.
Fiolina welcomed me home with a feast. She had overdone herself with cooking. There was ugali, chapati, beans, matumbo, you name it. Soon people started visiting. First to arrive my fellow Hitler’s compatriots: Saphire, Nyayo, and Rasto.
Later that evening, Apostle Elkana arrived unannounced. Mine was the first home he was visiting following his return. He was accompanied by his wife, Prophetess Perpetua Elkana.
Although Fiolina, the love of my enviable life, had not welcomed Prophetess Perpetua when she visited earlier, and had reminded me how Elkana had made me suffer, she seemed to be star struck as soon as they arrived, and she welcomed them happily.
Apostle Elkana prayed for a long time. In the prayers, he thanked God for listening to his prayers to heal me and for also listening to his prayers to release me from the police and protect me generally. Once he was done, he asked how I had been, and I told him I had been well. When I asked him where he had been, he said he would announce the next day.
“I invite you to my homecoming in church tomorrow, where I will announce where I have been,” he said. I told him I wouldn’t attend. “You cannot miss, it is our homecoming as we have been away.” We discussed this with Fiolina. I did not want to go, though she wanted us to.
I did not attend, but Fiolina did. I did not discuss it with her but what I gathered is that Apostle Elkana announced that he had been in heaven, and God had sent him back to the world, to save more souls. He also added that he had been allowed to carry just a little anointing oil in a five-litre bottle. Surprisingly, he sold all of it at Sh300 per small bottle.
With Apostle Elkana back, life will be very interesting in Mwisho wa Lami.
