Chronicles of a Pastor’s Child

Ann, tunakusubiri. Please try to hurry up. We have to leave now!” My mother shouted outside my room after knocking once at my door.

“Dakika moja mum!” I shouted back as I quickly pushed the photograph I was staring at into a novel. I opened my suitcase and dipped the novel into my clothes. Have always been doing this, trying to protect the little, if not the only secret I had.

“Don’t forget to carry your bible. The one your dad bought you on your fifteenth birthday.” She added. I heard her footsteps as she walked away to the sitting room. I quickly stood up and rushed to my wardrobe. I pushed some books away and pulled out my New King James Version Bible. I slowly undusted it, kissed and took it to my suitcase. I knocked my head for having remembered to carry my novel and forget my Bible. Thank God my mum had reminded me, otherwise, dad would have never forgiven me for such a mistake. It was the kind of the mistakes he always told me about, “Hiyo ni kama matusi kwa Mungu.” His words echoed into my ears.

I hurriedly rushed to the mirror. I looked at myself for a moment. The smile on my faces faded away when it really came into my mind that life was going to change. For the next three or four months, I was going to miss my room. The room that knew all my secrets. I looked at my dress trying to make sure that no part of my boobs was visible. I had to cover every part which would have otherwise lead someone into temptation. I had to dress decently, different from the way other girls dressed. My father was strict about this. “We have to light the lamp and put it on the table, for it to shine and others to see. Sio kuiweka chini ya meza!” He always reminded me whenever I dressed for an occasion. “I preach to people about being decent, and so my family should be an epitome. Not preaching water while we drink wine. Ufalme wa Mungu si wa hayo mambo!” he would add. So whenever I was dressing, I would make a million turns around the mirror just to make sure that I looked perfect and appealing, not just before my dad’s eyes, but also before the eyes of God. That is all a pastor’s daughter had to do always. Or was it a way of protecting me from the many hungry men out there? I didn’t care either. I was not interested in them. Maybe only one. One that only my phone and I knew about. It was a top secret just like the American intelligence information. No one new about him, not even the walls of my room. It was something that resided deep inside my heart. I did not let it out. Not even to my mum. I always prayed to God not to expose it to my dad. Not even through a vision or a dream. His photograph was the most protected thing in my room. I never wanted anyone to come across it.

My full-dress mirror convinced me that I was good to face the man of God, who also happened to be my dad. I kissed it for always being there for me and turned to pull my suitcase. It was time to leave the room and let the mosquitoes that disturb me to starve. Four months out of the room was not a short period. Anyone who could have attended a strict and spiritual high school, like I did, would confirm this. A term seemed to be a ten year sentence in Kamiti Maximum prison. Thank God my dad didn’t know I had this perception about school. Otherwise, the visible and invisible spirits would have been exorcised out of me via a not less than twenty minutes prayer. But after all, no matter how long the prayer was, my dad always finished praying with a similar ending, “Kwa hayo machache, naomba na kuamini. Amen!” It was expected of him anyway. A pastor. He had to intercede for people, for his family, for the nation, for sinners, for the sick, for those who had spirits of defiance, he had to break the chains of Satan and thank God for His endless love on us human. So my dad’s prayers were always long. He would get into deep spirit, speak in tongues and seem to see things that were hidden from ordinary people like me. At times, I would have this thought that he knew everything about me. Sometimes his preachings would hit me as though it was really meant for me. “Kile unafanya kwa siri, siku moja Mungu atakiweka wazi!” My heart would skip a beat of hearing the statement. Many questions would crisscross my head. Does my dad know about us? Has God really revealed to him? Will he ask me? I would feel confused. Occasionally, I would rush into my room immediately after service, pick my phone and text him ‘Hey, please let us just call it off. I think my dad knows about us’. It is not that I was really into this, but fear was the sole reason for my quick decisions. My dad always insisted of upholding the highest moral standards. “Kila kitu na wakati wake.” He always told me.

I knew he was very right. There were some things I was not supposed to engage into at that time of my age. But I just wished he could understand how much this guy meant to me. His texts always excited me. We used to meet for only few minutes, whenever I slipped of the compound, but the impact would last for hours. I wished I would be seeing him daily, each morning I wake up, I wished he would be the first thing my eyes to see. His voice always made my nerves react to unseen stimuli. I would lock myself into my room, dig deep into my wardrobe, in the old book, and pull out his photograph from the novel, Think Big. I would stare at the photograph with a broad smile on my face. Sometimes I could not control tears from dropping from my eyes. Tears of mixed emotion. He was the secret I protected. I never wanted us to be separated with circumstances. I loved the fact that he was part of my life. And meeting him still remained the best thing that ever happened in my life. Sweet Charming Jack.

Before I opened my bedroom door, my phone vibrated. I leaned the suitcase against the wall and pulled it out of my handbag. It was a text message from Kate, my best from high school. It happened that we were desk mates and also slept it the same dorm. She was such a nice friend and sister to me. She had made my high school life to be simple despite of the strictness of the rules. I always prayed to God never to separate me from her. After high school, I had thought that was the end of our friendship, but I only realized that God had answered my prayers when I learnt that we were to join the same University. Our connection became more strong as we called and texted each other about the fantasies of being in campus. It was a long wait but finally, we had less than two days to join.

‘Hey dr, umeget place ya kustay? I was suggesting we can rent a room. Since both of us hatujaget hostels!’ The text read. I looked at it for a moment wondering what to reply. It was a nice idea. No! A brilliant one. I would have loved to stay with her. I would have enjoyed it. It was an idea that had once struck my mind but had not let it out. My heart started racing when I thought about this. It would really give me a chance to be meeting Jack regularly. I started fantasizing how Jack will be vising us. I would be there for him, fully with nothing to worry about. Without looking over our shoulders. I longed for this. I smiled as I texted back. ‘Nice idea dr. I’m delighted. We can…’ I quickly stopped texting when reality dawned on me. The power of making the decision was not in my hands. My dad was the sole decision maker and had already came up with a solution, changing his mind was the hardest task unless you would convince him that your idea will result to direct entry into the promised land, Heaven. I quickly erased the text as my smile faded abruptly. I changed the reply to ‘Dear, very nice idea. But let me talk to dad first then nitakushoo!’ I pressed send button as I swallowed bitter saliva. The phone vibrated again. ‘Ok dear. I hope he agree. Tell me soon!’ she replied.

Before I replied back, I heard quick footsteps coming towards my door, the followed and angry voice calling my name “Ann kwani for how long are we going to wait for you. We have to leave!” It was my mom. I quickly dropped the phone into the handbag and grabbed my suitcase. My eyes met with my mum’s frowned face when I opened the door. “Babako amejam. You have been keeping us waiting for long.” She yelled.

“Sorry mum, I nilikuwa niki….”

“Ukichat!” She interrupted me. “Twende tuombe tutoke.” She said as she grabbed the suitcase from my hands in the name of helping me. She quickly led the way.

My dad gave me a strong look as we entered the sitting room. He shook his head, his eyes fixed on me. I quickly looked at my chest. I suspected that maybe he had noticed a mistake on my dressing code. “Ann!” He called me as he stood. “Learn to listen and keep time. Unaskia?”

“Ndio dad.” I responded in a low tone.

“Ukifika kwa Nyumba ya mchungaji mambo ya kuchat, achana nayo. You are going to represent us there. Please behave. I know Reverent Ken very well. He always insist on discipline. That is where I learnt my virtues from when I was still a mare church member. Until now I am a pastor, my friend, Rev Ken has never changed. They also have a daughter and utaona vile wamemlea.Please behave very well the way we have brought you up.” He paused for a while, his eyes fixed on me, perhaps trying to make sure that the words were sinking in me. “Always remember Ephesians six verse one to three.” He added.

My dad’s words landed in my heart with a very strong effect. Not that I was feeling touched, but because the words were really trying to remind me that the idea of staying with Kate was actually a dream that will never came true. It was a reality that we were about to leave the house for Rev Ken’s home, the place that I was to stay and commute to school. It’s not that I hated the idea, but I really knew that it was equal if not worse than staying at my home, where I was always expected to remember that I was a daughter of a man of God. I had always to implement the biblical teachings in whatever I did, whatever I said, whenever I went, or whatever I dressed. It’s not that I hated this, in fact, it earned me respect. I knew it will still be heard to meet Jack. I was hoping that joining the campus will give me a chance to spend a day or two with my happiness, Jack. “This is just a dream.” I thought. But somehow I was hoping that I would at least get a little freedom when I join campus; at least to mingle with my friends without being monitored and told to asses my friends before building strong ties with them. I needed some chance to explore the world, learn the virtues and vices that these hordes of humanity engage with. I wanted to stay with Kate. I knew Kate would never have been an obstacle to meeting I was really wondering how I could convince my dad and change his ever static mind. I took a deep breath and looked at him, our eyes met.

“Dad!’ I called in a low tone.

“Yes daughter. Una kitu cha kusema?” He asked as he took some few steps towards me. I turned and looked at my mum. She was staring at me, her hands in front holding a purse. She had been silent all through.

“Mum una kitu cha kutuambia before tutoke?” She also asked. A smile cut across her beautiful face revealing her snow-white set of teeth. Her smile gave me courage. Courage to face my dad and tell him our idea. The idea of renting a house together with Kate. My mom had always been my best friend. She was like a sister to me. We talked freely and I loved how she used to crack jokes and make fun of almost everything. Even the serious things. Sometimes she would make fun of my dad’s Sunday sermon and then she would simply say, “God forgive us!”. She was also a religious woman, strongly believed in God. She always taught me how to pray. “Prayers make a person to overcome any kind of challenges. Please uwe ukiomba daily my dear mum!” She told me always.

“Yah. Nilikuwa tu na swali.” I said while swaying side by side like a week tree on a windy day.

“Ehe! Uliza tutakujibu.” Said my dad.

I did not speak immediately. My heart was pounding loudly. The saliva in my mouth was boiling. I could feel some sweat drop from my armpits. I looked at my dad then my mom. They were all curious to know the kind of question I had in mind. The smile on my mum’s face faded when our eyes met. She probably knew I was troubled. She nodded her head at me, perhaps trying to tell me “Take courage girl and speak up.”

“We don’t have all the time Ann!” I heard my dad roar. “Or is it something that we can talk while on the way?”

“Dad…” I began in a low tone. “Do you think Rev Ken’s family will be comfortable with me staying there for the whole semester?”

My dad quickly turned and looked at my mum. He then turned and looked at me. He shook his head then looked at his phone. “It is getting late. We have to go!” He said.

“But you have not answered her.” My mum finally spoke after a moment of deafening silence.

“I know I have not answered her question. Because she clearly has the answer to that question.” He said while moving towards the door. I was confused. I knew I had annoyed him. My dad had strong faith and trust in Rev Ken. He always spoke positive of him and always praised him. “Reverend Ken is a true servant of God. I always admire to deliver my sermons like him.” He always said. He never wanted anyone to speak ill of Rev Ken. To him, Rev Ken was second after God. “Let’s get going. Masaa si yetu.” He said tying to open the door.

“Baba Ann, hata sasa kuomba hatutaomba?” My mum asked while still standing. My dad pushed back the door and turned. He ignored my mum’s question and started moving towards me. From the look on his face, I could notice that he was annoyed.

“Pole dad. I didn’t mean to..”

“Yes. It was the devil in you doubting God’s plan. Acha nikujibu hilo swali lako na swali lingine. Ok?” He said as he stopped just a step from me.

“Ok dad.” I answered as I had been taught. Always address directly the person talking to you. Yes dad, Yes Mum, Yes Angle, No sir and so on.

“Who suggested that you should go and stay there? Was it me?Your mum? Who? Tuambie Ann!” He looked at my mum then at me.

“It was Rev Ken and his wife.” I answered in a low tone.

“Then? I think you now has the answer. And he has always been calling to remind us that unafaa kuishi kwake. He wants to protect you from the claws of the world. It is God’s miracle. Don’t you see that? Imagine kujoin college iko karibu na kwake, Ukakosa hostel, hata hatukuuliza. Vile nilimwambia tu umeitwa huko, wakajitolea ukae kwao. And you, instead of thanking God, you are asking whether they will be comfortable with you. Really my daughter? God want you to stay close to him.”

“Pole dad!” I responded in a low tone my eyes fixed on the floor. It was now clear to me that my dad would not even want to hear my idea. I was angry. Angry at myself for nothing. For a moment I regretted being a pastor’s daughter. I admired the other girls, the girls who lived freely, who made their own decisions even without consulting their parents, decided what to put on without being monitored. I felt cut down my spine. My mind was lost. I was wondering what to tell my best friend, Kate. I felt disappointed. I knew life will be the same. It will be hard to meet Jack, just as it has always been. I hated myself. I hated everything. “Why me?” I wondered.

I came into my senses only to realize that my dad was praying. He was holding my right hand while my mum the left one. The way they grabbed the hands I could not tell. “Mungu abiriki familia ya mtumishi wako Ken. Tazama amejitolea kuishi na mtoto wetu wakati anapoenda kuanza masomo Yake. Nakushukuru kwa ajili ya baraka hizi…” I heard my dad pray. His voice was strong especially when he was praying. It was a long prayer. Unfortunately, I could not concentrate. I only heard some parts of the prayer. “Mungu usaidie mtoto Ann adumishe mafunzo tuliomfunza na awaheshimu wazazi wake ambao umemchagulia mwenyewe. Muepushe na kasumba na aibu za dunia…” he continued. I occasionally diverted my mind to Kate’s suggestion. I was deep in thoughts, thinking of how I will tell it to my mother. I assumed she would help though she had no say. I was still wondering when I had the words, “Kwa hayo machache naomba na Kuamini” I quickly aroused myself from my reveries and shouted “Amen!” as I pulled my hands away.

“Twendeni sasa.” My dad said as he took my suitcase.Immediately, my phone vibrated. I quickly pulled it out of my handbag. It was a text message, from Caro. Seeing the text made Goosebumps fill my whole body. It read “Will I see u b4 utoke hun?” I stood there rooted on the ground like a pole. Was really wondering what to tell him. I had promised to make sure I saw him before leaving my home. I had failed him. It was Jack. That is how I had saved his contact in my phone, as Caro. It was also a way of protecting him. It was my duty to. I was confused. I did not know what to tell him nor what to do. I would not have left the house at that moment. I was not ready to answer millions of questions. Loneliness engulfed me all of a sudden. I was missing someone. I needed to see him, even if for a second. I longed for his voice, I missed his tender hand on my neck. I missed his voice, I missed his shining and piercing eyes. I wished something to carry me and drop me right in front of him. He meant a lot if not everything. I wanted to tell him goodbye, not through text, but through a word of mouth to whisper in his ears. I wanted my breath to penetrate deep inside his ears. I longed for him more than ever before. I was totally lost in the world of fantasy. I wanted Jack. Yes, I needed him.

“Have you forgotten anything mum?” I heard my mum’s voice. It was like a reverb.

“Oh, Sidhani.” I answered quickly in a confused manner.

“You seem to be so deep in thoughts, anything the matter?” She asked, her eyes fixed on me.

“Hapana mum. Was just trying to remember whether nimesahau kitu!” I answered simply.

“I hope not!”

“Yah! Nimepack kila kitu I need.” I told her.

“Ok. Let’s get going” She said leading the way out of the house.

My dad’s phone rang immediately we left the house. He pulled it from his coat. “Hata ni mchungaji.” He said with a broad smile cutting across his face. “Bwana asifiwe ndugu…Ndo tunataka kutoka tukuletee msichana wako…” My dad said as he turned and looked at me. I was smiling. I forced myself to smile back. “Yah. Anafaa kureport on Monday.” He continued. “ Ati utapitia ukimchukua? Oh that’s really great. At least on Kesho kondoo wangu hawatabaki bila Mchungaji. Godbless you much mchungaji. Tunakusubiri.” He hanged up the phone and looked at my mum.

“Change of plans….. to be continued.

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