By Charity Nyoni
Chapter 1
“Aren’t you a church member?” asked a young woman, who was wear-ing skimpy clothes.
Her question was directed to a woman, who was neatly-dressed. The attention of everyone who was in the queue to see the sangoma (traditional healer) was shifted to the woman. Her name was MaDlodlo, she fixed her attention to a distant horizon, pretending not to hear anything.
“We know you church members, it’s almost time for the church elections. That’s why you’re here.” The young woman continued to heap coals on MaDlodlo’s back. The other people on the queue burst into laughter.
MaDlodlo was the next to get in and she felt relieved as she removed her shoes and got into the Sangoma’s room,
“Makhosi,” the sangoma, sneezed and coughed.
The Sangoma was an old woman, whose clothes were covered by scary animal skin and fur. Different kinds of beads accompanied the fur on both her clothes and doek.
“I have been expecting you. Vumani bo!” “Siyavuma gogo!” MaDlodlo responded as she knelt respectfully before the sangoma.
“You know how you’ve helped me to keep my position in church for so long. This year, I have come for the same.”
“MaDlodloMaDlodlo, grrrrrrrrrrrrr! Haaaa!” She spit into a small animal skin bag that contained her divination bones. “I’m sorry, I cannot help you and your church members anymore!”
“But why Gobela? You have been our anchor for all these years. How can you just throw us to the wolves for no reason?”
“He gave me a warning, to leave his people! He told me not to continue working with wolves in sheep’s clothing, to lead his remnant astray.”
“Who?”
“The owner of the church! Help me by spreading word to your friends, that I don’t help you anymore to get church ranks. Leave now, before his anger strikes me to death!”
Like a silly puppy, MaDlodlo tucked her tail in between her legs and tip-toed out of the room. When she got outside, she saw a number of church members in the queue as well. She gave them a sign to meet her privately out of the gate,
“Guys, things have changed, Gobela will not help us again.” “Why?” asked a shocked Bab’ Gumede. “She said, God visited her.”
“We will find another person to help us then.” said Gumede.
“Mmm, I think we shouldn’t do that. The time for all this to end has come, unless if you want to die,” said Madlamini, a forty years looking woman.
“I agree with you, Bab’ Gumede. We can’t afford to be back benchers at church.” said MaDlodlo.
“Guys, this is getting dangerous. Let’s just leave it. I agree with Madlamini,” said another man, Mr Ntuli.
“Those who want to go with me, let’s go.” said Gumede.
MaDlodlo and other four women followed him, leaving Ntuli and Mad-lamini behind.
A few days later, MaDlodlo stood on the church’s pulpit with a smile, wearing her ever decent clothes, preaching,
“Bazalwane, this is the time to change! God calls us to repent and to be separate from the rest of the world, for we are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood! People who are set apart for the work of God. Our homes should be the little heavens.”
Sitting in the congregation was her daughter, Ruth. Ruth was on her phone during the whole presentation whilst her younger sister, Simangele was in tears all the time. An elderly woman, Mrs. Ntuli was sitting next to Simangele.
“Ooh, my child! Don’t cry,” Mrs. Ntuli whispered at ear shot. “Your mother is such a talented preacher, she knows just how to appeal to the soul. Her sermons are always emotional. She knows what to say at the right time. May God continue to bless her.”
“You won’t understand.” Said Simangele as she wiped her tears, took her handbag and stormed out of the church; leaving Mrs. Ntuli confused.
Upon seeing Simangele leaving, MaDlodlo’s countenance changed but she faked a smile.
The sermon continued,
“In Psalms 50 verse 21, the Lord said that, you’ve done all these things
and I have been quiet. Bazalwane, the time is coming when God will no longer be silent but shall act. That time might not be now but it is here. Repent!”
At this point, Ruth’s mind strayed to her brother Peter. He got crippled at the age of ten. Since then, his parents make sure that every morning by seven o’clock, he is sitting in front of their mall up to eight in the night. Ruth had tried to talk to her parents about it for a number of times but it always ended in tears and insults.
Whilst still lost in thoughts, Ruth’s mind was on Simangele. It always pained Ruth but she always felt that it was best for her sister to always use drugs. She recalled how pathetic she always got when a day went by without taking her drugs. Ruth did not like all this but who was
She was embarrassed when she came back to her mother’s sermon, to find all the eyes fixed on her tearful face.
“Ruth baby, come here and sing ‘Amazing Grace’ for us.” MaDlodlo said with a charming smile. Ruth stood up and gracefully marched to the stage. A church usher, a young man; clothed in red and black, handed over the microphone to Ruth,
“Amazing Grace…………..”
She always sang each word of this song from the heart because, it was her favorite song. It somehow gave her hope, that maybe one day when all the things of this world will pass, the new home of the bible would accommodate her. A home where there is no pain, where the owner of the church would wipe away all the tears from his people’s eyes. She knew that in that new home there will be no falling in love with any man but
she wanted to get out of this prison where she couldn’t be allowed to be with any man. She was nothing but a moving venom, a created weapon to
slaughter men. Well that’s a story for another day. Back to church!
Tears were streaming down Ruth’s eyes until she could not sing anymore. She stopped and wept, leaving everyone in an emotional spell. Her fa-ther, Mr. Zikhali (Zikhali means weapons); stood up from his chair and went to the stage. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the church in a fatherly manner.
“Pardon my daughter! She always gets too emotional whenever she sings this song.” said MaDlodlo, trying so hard to maintain her cool.
After the sermon, Mr. Ntuli stood up to introduce the new pastor.
“Bazalwane, please welcome our new pastor, Mr. Sibindi (Sibindi, means to be brave).” The Pastor smiled and waved at the people who shouted; Amen and others Hallelujah. “This is Hanna, his five years old daughter. Please let’s all make sure they feel at home. Pastor Sibindi, Sir, this is your chance to greet the children of God.”
The Pastor stood up,
“Thank you Bab’ Ntuli for the warm welcome. Greetings to you all in the name of the Lord.” The people cheered in response. “I was impressed by the sermon and the closing song. Mam’ MaDlodlo, may God richly bless you and your family. I have heard of your good works, both for the church and community at large.” MaDlodlo smiled, “If it’s okay by you, please let your daughter come to me and register to join our international
church choir. Her voice is unique and I believe that God will use her to bring the lost to His fold…..”
A few days later, Ruth found her parents waiting for her,
“Sit down.” Ruth sat down without thinking twice because her father
was an impatient man. “There is a cockroach that needs squashing, tonight!”
“No! What if I go to prison again dad?”
“Remember, I have the power to take you into or get you out of prison! So, don’t be late. Be ready by seven pm, my guys will pick you up.” Ruth said nothing but her tears spoke volumes and her mother said nothing.
Epic Media Films Zw 