When we parted ways here last week, Fiolina — the lucky laugh of my enviable life — had left me in a huff. This was after I dared to question why she was taking a Sh300,000 loan — money she intended to give to Apostle Elkana, who had assured her and other congregants of The Holiest of All Ghosts (THOAG) Tabernacle Assembly that the world would end on 31st December, and therefore nobody needed money or property anymore.
When she left, she did not say where she was going. I also decided to give her a day or two. After all, Fiolina is an adult, not a child — although recent events were beginning to challenge that assumption.
On the second day, I tried calling her. She did not pick my calls. I then borrowed Nyayo’s bicycle and rode to the school where she now teaches. From the market centre next to that school, I had rented a one-bedroom house for her. She was not there.
Whenever Fiolina deserts me, she usually goes to her parents’ home. Given that her village is just next to ours, news normally reaches me the same day. This time, it didn’t.
The following day, while at Hitler’s, her brother Tocla — after taking two glasses on my bill — asked to see me.
I asked him to explain, but he added that their parents were not happy.
I told him I am known for many bad things, but beating even a fly has never been one of them.
“The problem is Apostle Elkana,” I said. “Your sister no longer listens to me. She only listens to that man.”
“Yes,” Tocla said. “She has just been singing and praying since she arrived. She has even refused to eat — only taking water.”
“That is because the Apostle told her the world will end on 31st December,” I explained, adding, “and that is why they are behaving like people who have already resigned from life.”
“So why did you send her away?” Tocla asked. “You could have just let her pray and sing and we wait and see what will happen on 31st. Me, I don’t believe it — and even if it were true, I still want to enjoy life before it ends.”
I told him I had no problem with Fiolina praying and singing. She has been doing that for years. While I have never lost anything from her praying and singing, I also have never benefited from it.
“So, mbona ulimfukuza (so, why did you chase her away)?” he asked.
“Sikumfukuza! (I didn’t chase her away!),” I said. “She left on her own when I asked why she was taking a loan to give to Elkana. It is a lot of money. If you hear the amount, you will be shocked.”
“What?” he asked. “I asked her for Sh1,500 and said she didn’t have. Now she is giving money to Elkana? How much?”
I told him it was a lot. “Over Sh100,000,” I said.
I did not say Sh300,000, because I doubted Tocla had the capacity to process such a number.
“My brother, we are with you on this one,” he said. “We have asked Fiolina to return to you. We also do not agree with her giving that money to Elkana.”
“My son, how are you?” He asked politely — quite unlike him.
“We have told Fiolina to come back to you and never to go to that church again,” he said.
By then, news of other congregants selling things had spread far and wide. Anindo, Nyayo’s wife, had sold all household utensils and was in the process of selling Nyayo’s motorcycle, saying he would not need it in a few weeks.
This was a first. Usually, when Fiolina goes to her parents, they accuse me and make financial demands. This was the first time they were siding with me.
I had planned to send our sons to her parents’, but on hearing that Fiolina was not welcome there, I decided to wait.
She returned on Monday evening, still not speaking to me — just singing and praying. The only person she spoke to was our son Sospeter, and even that was limited to instructions like “bring this” or “take that”.
The next day, I called together people whose spouses or family members were selling things to give to Apostle Elkana. They were many — Nyayo, Rasto, Tito, and Alphayo among them. We agreed the matter was beyond an assistant chief and went straight to the chief.
The chief came with police officers, and Apostle Elkana was arrested.
To our surprise, he was unfazed. He did not resist. He walked willingly to Mwisho wa Lami Police Post cells.
“It is only for about a week,” he said confidently. “These cells will not be there. And I will be drinking milk and honey while you burn in hell.”
“If that is so,” Tocla asked angrily, “why are you collecting money from people?”
“Where will the money for milk and honey come from?” Elkana asked calmly, adding that even heaven needs finances to run.
The man’s confidence was convincing. The assistant chief even tried to defend him, saying he might be right. But the chief and police overruled him, saying what Elkana was doing was wrong.
Back home, Fiolina was still singing and praying. She had grown thin and emaciated after not eating for over a week. But yesterday she finally ate — after hearing that Apostle Elkana, who had been leading the fasting and prayers, was eating very well in police cells. In fact, congregants were visiting him with food, which he did not refuse.
Other than Sister and a few church members, Fiolina has not been talking to me. She says she cannot speak to sinners.
I still hope she did not go ahead with the loan. Because if she did, and the world does not end on 31st, I will be the one to pay it back.
