It’s not often that I go to church, but when I do its either I have been half dragged to the chapel or I’m in dire need of confession. I’m Catholic by the way, as if that changes anything. These American movies I spent watching during my home-defending days showed me that you could follow any spiritual path you want. It’s a pity that only rich people have the liberty of changing religions faster than a kombi driver shifting gears in the morning congestion. That does not make sense right. Its not supposed to. In fact, I’m all kind of pissed today. Especially pissed at our pure colour wearing brethren, Mapostori (Apostolic sects)! Let me explain why.
You all know that I started my low income manual and really tiring work last week. However my mother believed that there are still spirits that are thwarting my success. Honestly the only spirits which damaged my future were Mainstay and Pushkin! She decided that we had to visit a man of the cloth. I’m not sure what the name was but let’s call him Madzibaba John.
We were supposed to leave for this prophet’s shrine early on Sunday morning, however I needed to smoke a little bit. In the words of Nasty C, “..to take the edge off.” My mother proceeded to go first because she claimed that she wanted to hear the preaching. LOL! I know damn well that she wanted to only see the shenanigans that happen in these apostolic sects. Demon possession and the weird prophecies! I’d rather get there high!
After a quick session with the boys I proceeded to go to this infernal place. I honestly did not want to. I always had bad experiences with these guys and a gut feeling told me that today wasn’t going to be any different. For me to get to the shrine I had to cross a stream which was created to allow the sewage water from manholes to flow away. Sewage is a common feature in my hood, not that the Harare City Council cares anyway. As I was crossing a I noticed a young boy carrying two 5litre containers getting water from the stream. It’s a shame that people have to rely on this dirty water. There has been typhoid scare these past weeks for chrissakes!
As I got near the shrine there is a woman spinning around and crying out obscenities that I can’t state. Madzibaba John was just standing a few metres from her, wearing a white garment and he has a red cloth draped over his neck. He pointed his bamboo stick at the woman clearly in a trance and she fell to the ground. Now that I think of it, the handle of the bamboo stick looks like a cobra head. Scary stuff this. Anyway, I was high and I did not necessarily care about anything here. I wanted to please mom and go home.
When Madzibaba John got to me, he poked me with is bamboo stick. He then started chanting some gibberish I did not understand at all. My mom was also mumbling a prayer, the gullible look on moms face threatening to tear me apart. This was hilarious all the way to heaven and back. A gourd was shoved into my mouth and I tasted water. Dry mouth was catching up on me I happily drank the whole gourd. I happily looked at the saviour who had shoved this gourd into my mouth and he suddenly did not matter no more. Because next to him was the boy from the stream, busy refilling the gourd. WTF!
Inini
