I told Apostle Elkana that I knew Fiolina was planning to give him some money.
When schools closed, I was looking forward to a quiet holiday, where I would finally take a well-deserved rest.
The only exercise I had planned was the daily walks to and from Hitler’s for adult classes — a walk I consider both educational and medicinal.
If Fiolina expected me to do any work, it would only be the light kind: picking litter (a few leaves) from my magnificent, well-manicured, state-of-the-art compound where stands the famous cutting-edge bungalow—that years later, is still the talk of Mwisho wa Lami. I was not going to touch any equipment: not a jembe, not an axe, not even a slasher. Holidays are sacred.
But it seems my close enemies had other plans. As you know, trouble started when Maskwembe, my sister’s useless husband, turned Caro into a drum.
When things escalated, I staged an intervention—something you all know ended in spectacular failure. And after the failure, Caro, instead of thanking me, turned against me.
I was still recovering from that embarrassment when another complication brewed in Mwisho wa Lami. You may have noticed that I haven’t mentioned Apostle Elkana, the spiritual superintendent of The Holiest of All Ghosts Tabernacle Assembly, for some time. That silence was intentional. Not accidental.
You see, Apostle Elkana and I no longer see eye to eye. And the entire issue has everything to do with Fiolina—the lucky laugh of my enviable, blessed life.
Performed miracles
Let me remind you: it was I who worked tirelessly to get Fiolina into teacher training. I, who fought to get her a TSC number. I, who performed miracles, somersaults and gymnastics to help her land a TSC job. Publicly, I claimed I did it for her, but the truth is I also did it for myself.
When she got posted far away, did I not go there, rent her a decent house, furnish it, and fund her life as she waited for her TSC money? I did all that with love.
And honestly, I expected that once she received the money, she would call me with respect and say: “My husband, here is the salary. How would you like us to use it?”
My friend ... wapi!
Fiolina alimeza pembe. She declared the money was hers and hers alone. She said she was ready to refund whatever I had spent—even the rent—and that she was willing to calculate every shilling I paid at Mosoriot TTC. She proudly announced she would take a whole year to repay.
“Me getting a job was God’s work, not your work. If you could help me get a job, I would have gotten it long ago!” She said this to my face. To my face!
Then she credited Apostle Elkana for everything. “I attribute Apostle Elkana to my getting a job. He prophesied it. I got it.”
I tried to argue, but reasoning with Fiolina these days is like reasoning with a radio—the radio continues playing whether you talk or not.
Her new obsession became tithing. The good Apostle convinced her that tithe must be calculated on gross salary, not net. This was after she gave the Apostle her payslips—something I had never seen myself! Yet I was still paying rent, sending her upkeep, and running the house in Mwisho wa Lami.
When she came home, she did no shopping. She expected me to handle everything, including toilet paper. The only things she purchased were shoes and clothes for her and our son, Sospeter. I honestly expected her to buy me at least one suit kwa sababu ya heshima, but again, wapi!
When schools closed, and she came home, I was hopeful that we would finally talk. Unfortunately, that hope was misplaced. When I am home, she is always praying loudly. We have become like roommates who only exchange greetings through the window.
What I have noticed, however, is Apostle Elkana’s frequent visits. The man comes to my house as if KRA sent him. I try to avoid him because he and I cannot agree on anything. When he is not around, Fiolina is visiting his church.
As the only gainfully employed member of the congregation, they treat her like royalty—their very own sponsor. They expect her to finance everything, including an upcoming Christmas convention in Mwisho wa Lami.
I learnt all this at Hitler’s, along with the shocking headline of the week.
“Have you heard the world is ending on December 31st?” Nyayo asked on Friday.
I told him I had not heard such nonsense.
“What do you mean? Isn’t your wife a loyal member of Elkana’s church?”
He then revealed that Anindo, his own wife, had been selling everything in the house—chickens, cups, potatoes—to donate to the Apostle. Apparently, Apostle Elkana had convinced them they wouldn’t need anything after December 31st.
I told him Fiolina had nothing significant to sell.
“That’s the problem,” Nyayo said. “I hear she’s taking a big loan to give to Apostle Elkana.”
My friend, which sobered me instantly. I marched home like a chief.
Loan application
When I confronted her, she quoted the Bible: “No one knows the day nor the hour when Jesus will come. He will arrive like a thief.”
She added that the signs as revealed in the Book of Revelations were clear—Jesus was almost here. When I asked whether she was taking a loan for Elkana, she philosophically announced: “We came with nothing. We will leave with nothing. All is vanity.”
Then she left for church.
While she was gone, I inspected her documents and nearly fainted. There, shining like a demon, was a bank development loan application form for Sh300,000. She had not discussed anything with me. When she returned, I confronted her.
Her reaction? “What were you doing in my documents? That’s invasion of privacy?”
I tried to explain to her that we needed to discuss our financials together, but she shouted back: “You have no right to question how I spend my money, NO RIGHT AT ALL!”
And with that, she left, I don’t know to where, and she not been picking my calls since then.
Carrying a panga, I walked to Apostle Elkana’s home and told him to keep off my wife. I told him I knew Fiolina was planning to give him some money, and told him if that happened, he must be ready for consequences.
“You will know who Dre is!” I warned him and left, not allowing him to say anything. The panga I was carrying seems to have scared him.
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