There were times that Kamenju recalled his church-going days. He had never liked going to church but like every other employee at the Mejas, it was expected that you attended service at Golden Harvest Ministries.
Golden Harvest Ministries was especially notorious for collections , tithes, offerings, first fruits, thanksgiving, special sacrifices, sacrifices for the removal of ancestral curses, offerings for orphans and widows(money that never reached the said persons), offerings for strengthening marriages, offering for passing exams and a thousand dubious for the financial harassment of the poor faithfuls.
At golden Harvest Ministries, all men were expected to wear ties. The ties were provided free by the good pastor himself. The likes of Kamenju were easily distinguishable from gainfully employed brothers and sisters who mostly drove themselves in.
The one acre church compound was surrounded by a fence of corrugated iron sheets. Two security guards manned the gate and conducted security checks. The checks themselves angered Kamenju to his very bones. They were discriminatory as Hitler. The security beeper was waved only on poorly dressed faithfuls the like of Kamenju.
The maltreatment, church debts and numerous issues at home were taking their toll on him. He was fairly new to the church yet he owed it four thousand shillings. After the last service on Sundays, the church was conducted to a wholesome, thorough investigation to ascertain everybody was in the clear when it came to church debts.
There was a group of influential members who always met with the good pastor after service for refreshments. These people were the very backbone of the ministry. Every one of them with a special interest. Kamenju always felt out of place. He had once seen an influential member wash his hands with bottled mineral water. It shocked him as he knew how much the bottle cost.
He felt small and useless in his over sized ill-fitting suit, his sharp pointed shoes were two sizes too big and the scraggy tie which he'd never learnt to tie a knot yet. The knot had gotten smaller and smaller even a bit lopsided but he didn't give a damn. He had been given the suit by a brother after he noticed that Kamenju didn't have a change of decent clothing. The brother was a bit large than Kamenju but that is neither here nor there.
Yes, Kamenju was now a 'saved' brother but he still found it hard to kick his smoking habit. At times he'd hide in bushes or in a latrine and have his fix. He recalled how he'd taken to burning rubbish at home and at the Mejas. That way, he'd smoke and nobody would know. He'd tried all kinds of prayers. He'd attended altar calls, prayed earnestly to God to quell the habit in him but either God was taking a siesta or he wasn't trying hard enough to quit. At least he'd stopped taking alcohol. Even if he wanted to he simply couldn't afford it now. Most of his money went to church.
Pastor Chris had once dedicated a full session to rave and rant on the unacceptable behavior of putting coins in the Khaki envelopes.
'Surely, you should be ashamed of yourselves.' The good pastor admonished gazing menacingly in the general direction of Kamenju and his fellow 'wakula jasho'. Since then everybody at least put a 'finje'- a fifty shilling note in the envelopes. This was too much sacrifice for Kamenju.
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KAMENJU AND MTOTO IN JAIL
Kamenju was startled when his cell mate was transferred to another prison and another ruffian was brought in. The guy never stopped running his lips. He said his name was Mtoto. His face was vaguely familiar to Kamenju but he couldn't place it. Lately, Kamenju had started reading novels and he didn't take kindly to interruptions of any kind. This never dampened his cell mates' mood.
