Nzoka, you are senile. Priests are men, not hyenas. There is only one God and his advice is always for our own good. He is the God of love.
My son, this is where you must think a little if you want to see my plan. In paradise there were only men, but some of them were evil. It was they who bribed the hyena to do their dirty work. They knew all along they were doing evil and hoped that the stupid hyena would take the blame. The animal could equally have been a man, bribed to commit great evil as many men are, so that some other person might benefit. In life good and evil are often the same thing. While you starve, I can happily eat a feast. For me it is good, but for you it is certainly evil, for there is enough on my plate to feed two, and feed them both well. If I also know that, and I still ignore your need then I am evil. It is no more than your father’s teaching, my son.
But there is still only one God!
In paradise there were only men, but they managed to produce evil in a place where previously there was none. Look, Munyasya, at what these priests and their church have done to you. They have all but cut through your family line. There will be no descendants following on behind you to offer help if you should fall on your way. They have caused you to forget your ancestors and your duties to them. And now for all time they will be burdened with their continued responsibilities toward you. But have we rejected you? Have we tried to cut the bonds that bind us to you? Have we tried to be rid of you? No. We have done the opposite. I am here to try to make you see the wrong things you have done. I am here to try to redirect your thoughts back to the path that can lead you away from this place. Through this I am trying to remake the bond that has been almost broken. We know you will always remain a burden for us, but to lose one of our own kind would be a tragedy none of us would want to bear. In the end that would prove to be the greater burden. The truth is clear. These priests and their teachings are the hyenas gnawing to break the bonds which themselves can only be good. In your case, Munyasya, they succeeded not only in claiming your poor old self for themselves, but also through sheer evil, they tricked Nzoka, your poor and long-suffering stepfather back into life where they have imprisoned him. Surely a hand that can reclaim the dead from their journey can be nothing other than purest evil!
But Nzoka, in paradise the evil ones stood to gain from their crime. They thought they would win everything for themselves and banish all other men but themselves from paradise forever. If the priests have convinced me with their words, and even if they have caused me also to convince others, they themselves have gained nothing. They themselves are neither richer nor poorer.
Ah, Munyasya, you must now again think of the poor hyena. When he cut the rope, he himself was also lost to his own paradise forever. Even when he accepted the bribe he was offered to carry out the evil act, he knew that would be the case, and he also knew that if he succeeded then paradise would always be for men and only for men. He did the only possible thing and hoped that he could rule life just as men would rule heaven.
But he was wrong!
They were all wrong!
But what can the priests gain from this conspiracy you describe? They are not rich and they never will be. Compared to what I have seen, not only elsewhere in the world, but also here in our own land, the Church is itself poor.
Remember, Munyasya, that those who pay the bribe win most of the profit. You have seen white men who are not priests. You have seen their fine riches and their fine countries where there is always plenty of food and plenty of rain. You have seen how they can stuff themselves with more and more of the fruit that even our poor land can grow and be happy to watch others grovel in the dust for the skins they drop.
And their priests? What do they, these people’s hyenas, what do they get? A share of the skins?
Look around you, Munyasya. Look over there at the size and the obvious power of the great building before you. I have heard it said that your priests have built this place to be the heart of the lands they have won. This, and the lands that go with it, are their bribe. From Kyuso in the north, through Mwingi and Migwani to here; from here to Mutito in the east; to Yatta in the west and Ikutha in the south, all people like yourself, tricked into ignoring the still obvious truth, now look upon this place as the heart of the Church, as the manifestation of the power the Church embodies. It is a church, but a grand church, a parent to each and every other church, great or small, throughout our land. It is the new heart of the power.
The hyena’s heart?
Indeed, the hyena’s heart.
So we are going to shoot the church?
You are a stupid child sometimes, Munyasya. Can you still not see what it is that my words have shown?
Oh yes, I can see that, my friend. I can see everything, but perhaps only through your eyes. It is certainly very convincing, but I still cannot see how any of this can help me to rid myself of you! And I will not believe anything that you tell me until you can give me complete proof. If you can show me without doubt that this new knowledge can help me and can give me a chance of redeeming my life, then I would believe you. Indeed then I must believe you.
Now that I have explained everything to you, the plan is not difficult to describe, Munyasya. The heart continues to beat because its body protects it. Its body consists of all those people who have been tricked by its promises. Like you yourself have done, they have nurtured it, found joy in seeing it grow, believing that they will receive the benefits it has promised. You were promised those same things, Munyasya, but through me you now have learned that they were lies. What we must try to do...
We?
Yes, Munyasya, we: what we must do is to make that protected heart miss a beat, and then another beat, as many beats as possible. There are many people here who are under its spell. If we can lessen its power over them, then they can be released by the vision of their own thoughts in the same way that you have been reformed by my influence, my son. They can be made to see the evil of which they are a part. I have seen the evil. Now you have seen it. We have seen this great church built here with labour that could surely have helped our poor people. Together we have seen your Father Michael, the Migwani priest-man-father, forget all the work that he says is so important to him as soon as his fine house burns down. And does he replace it with a house that would be fit for the likes of you, Munyasya, or even I, myself? Or does he rebuild his palace in the face of all the poverty that surrounds him? Of course he does, because he exists merely to bribe people like yourself, so he must show his wealth as a way of saying how able he remains to promise wealth to others. It is a share of these riches that he offers everyone who assists his trickery. You, Munyasya, shared some of those riches until such time that you could no longer be of any help. Then, when you were a poor and wretched and confused old man, they not only forgot all you did for them, but insulted you in public and then held you up as an example to the young so that they would be warned away from the misguided ways you had come to represent. If only we could have told these youngsters that the reason you had grown sick was because of these priests and their church and its lies!
If only... But my body does not allow it. Nzoka, I am a weak old man. Do you expect this frame to stand, to gather a crowd and convert them to your ideas with a rousing speech they cannot deny?
You are tired, Munyasya, my son. You can never do that, but for some time, while you have slept in the shade of your acacia tree in the market place, I have been keeping your eyes and ears open and I have been learning all those things that I have needed to understand life today in its own terms. I have learned that this priest...
Father Michael.
...I can never remember that strange name. The title ‘Father’ is very difficult to say... Anyway, this priest comes to Kitui from Migwani every week to visit this place before us. And here we are in Kitui. There are always people everywhere, many people coming and going. There is the great new cathedral and Kitui town’s priests’ hou
se before us, and the post office behind, where people come for their money and their letters. And Kitui is the main town of the District. Whatever happens here is known within an hour throughout the whole area. Now we know that this priest thinks only of himself. We have seen it with your own eyes. Here, Munyasya, he will not be protected by the iron bars that guard the windows of his house. Here we shall meet on equal terms and he will show everyone that he cares not a thought for our people, not even for poor old Munyasya, who has devoted his life to the white man’s work and a good part of it to his Church and its God. He is not here yet, but I know he is coming sooner rather than later. All we have to do is wait for him and be ready when he arrives.
But Nzoka, it is a strange place for me here. Nobody knows me. Who will feed me here? Who will give me my beer? There is no shade here and when a car or a bus goes past it sprays us with dust and stones from the road. I will not survive for long here. I need someone to help me. You can help me in spirit from inside this bag of bones, but I need food and drink to keep myself together.
You need not worry, Munyasya. It will not be long now. Will you carry out my plan? If you do, you will surely die, but it will give you one last chance to atone for your wrongs, but it will be a good chance. What will be seen here will be learned by many. When your heart ceases its beat, neither of us will know how many people will see through the evil conspiracy which tricks them into feeding and supporting their enemy. But, for every person who sees a new truth and whose own heart changes, one step along the road which we must travel together will be made easier for you, Munyasya. It is your chance to save the spirits of those still alive, and every success you have will help. Will you carry out my plan, my son?
If I say no, Nzoka, you can easily command me to act out whatever plan you have devised...
But then you cannot benefit from the results yourself, Munyasya.
I know that. Also if I were to hinder you, your plan would be more likely to fail. I fear that I have done that to you many times already. I have never really supported the things you have attempted and that has been why they have never quite succeeded. But if I help you and you are wrong, I am totally lost forever. I am putting my trust in you, Nzoka, because you are of my family. I am still not sure that you are right, but I can remember what you taught me as a child and you are speaking the same truths even now. Command and I will follow.
You are indeed brave, my son. I can be proud of you again. You and I are both hunters now. All we can do is wait until the trap we have prepared is sprung. Enjoy one last sleep in life, Munyasya. Enjoy it now while I keep a watch for our prey.
***
Wake up! Wake up, boy! It’s time. Come on. Get on your feet and walk. Quickly! Get those sticks of legs moving. It’s not far. Only a few steps...
I’m still asleep.
Come on. It’s not far. And I thought you would be fresher if you had a quick sleep! Come on. Wake up, Munyasya! If this priest of yours had not decided to stop again, we would have missed him already. My plan must be correct, because someone with a greater power than mine has helped us to carry it out. He came along the road and I prodded you, but did you wake up? He went up to that great church of his and I was still prodding you, but did you wake up?
I am getting too much like you in my old age, Nzoka. It was always you who was the lazy member of the family, as far as I can remember... And anyway I have had nothing to eat or drink since I came here. I am weak.
Well at least we have been lucky. I don’t know why he decided to stop again at the side of the road, but at least it proves that God is on our side. We must be right. Everything is working in our favour. Now be careful not to let him see you. Be quiet and be careful. Move quickly, but quietly. It looks to me as if he is not even interested in what is going on around him. Careful, Munyasya, he will see you. If he recognises you we are finished... Now slowly, my son. Be careful. Lie down here. Be careful. Don’t touch that machine of his. It may not be alive, but he can feel it when you touch.
It’s only a piece of iron, Nzoka!
I don’t care what it is. All I want is that you should take no chances. We’re almost there. Lie down here, Munyasya… No! The other way! He will be able to see you if you lie there. Now lie down… Munyasya, that’s it! We have done it! We have done it!
How many times have I heard you say that before? How many plans have you hatched since you came back from the dead to haunt me?
Don’t move, Munyasya. Stay where you are! Be patient!
Move? How can I move with you sitting on me, Nzoka? I can’t even lift my own legs these days, never mind set off in my own direction...
At last, Munyasya, this is it!
You sound very happy and very proud of yourself.
I’ve waited generations for this, my child, many many many more years than I ever should have.
Impatient as ever.
No, Munyasya, I know I am in control this time. It is not impatience you can hear this time, but confidence. I know I am right. And I know others will see it and that their attention will be fixed forever on what we both want them to see. Look! Over there! There are people coming down the hill... We’ll even have an audience!
I hope you’re right this time. You made me bang my head last time... And today I have not even had any beer. If that happens again, I will feel it this time. I hate to think what I will have to go through today if it turns out that you are wrong...
More audience, Munyasya! Look! There are a dozen people, no, even more than that! They are all coming this way. I hope they are not too busy driving their cows to see what will happen. It’s going to work this time, Munyasya. And at last we have chosen the right place.
Father Michael does not seem ready to set off. Perhaps he is going to leave his car here all day and go down to the bar... It will be very hot lying here in the road all day waiting for him to come back. I’ll get very thirsty.
You’re always trying to prove me wrong, Munyasya. Look! Behind us! Another of these metal cows has come to watch. Munyasya, look there! It’s stopped just behind the priest’s machine and it’s mooing.
It’s in gear, Nzoka! You are right!
Calm down, Munyasya. Calm down, now. Didn’t I tell you it would work? Are you all right?
All right? I’m dead!
I’m free.
But every bone in my body is broken! How did you ever expect me to walk the path like this?
Munyasya, look at all these people. Look at their faces. Look at your priest. He doesn’t know what to do! We have done it, Munyasya. We have done it!
Nzoka, how did you ever expect me to be able to journey forward through the past with every bone in my body broken? How can I ever get back to paradise like this? You’ve tricked me again!
Be quiet, boy! Listen to what they say. It’s important for both of us. If my plan works, they will turn on your priest. Maybe they will kill him and then they will have seen through all like him.
But, Nzoka, my bones...
Shh! Oh, Munyasya, my son, thank you for what you have done. You could not have been luckier than this. Look who has come from that other machine. It’s Mulonzya, one of our great chiefs. Surely he will give you all the help you need. If anyone will uphold the values we both need to be strengthened, it is him.
Nzoka, everything is broken. My legs, arms, ribs, back, neck... I can’t even stand up. I could do without a stomach. I don’t need to eat any more. I could do without a head, for I have nothing to think about. But to walk a path as long as time itself without any legs...
Munyasya, we have won! Listen to what Mulonzya is saying! Listen to what he is saying about you, yourself, and these priests. He is praising you, demanding that everyone recognises your achievements in life. You are to be mourned, my son! It has worked perfectly.
But I need crutches, not words!
It will take time, Munyasya. No one is ever
very well fitted to start their own journey. Death, after all, does not leave a man whole. Over time, acts of mourning, which these people here will carry out on your behalf, will strengthen your spirit and eventually rebuild it. When enough time has passed, they will then forget you. By then you will have been made strong enough to make your journey and, by letting your memory fade, helped by carefully never speaking your name, the living will release you so that you may start.
And you, Nzoka, for you are still tied to me.
That is still true, Munyasya. But at last the beginning of the end is in sight. Listen! He is now turning against your priest! It’s worked! Mulonzya is saying that this priest does not live his own life by the rules he teaches to others.
Nzoka, I don’t really care any more what he is saying. I want a beer.
Don’t care? This man is saving you through these words. What men do is forgotten, but what they say is remembered. Can’t you feel the strength he is giving to you? Can’t you feel it beginning to grow? He will soon give you the final push you need to start you on your way.
But it hurts, Nzoka.
Of course it hurts, you idiot boy! You’re dying! Everything has worked perfectly for both of us. I couldn’t have asked for more. But listen, Munyasya, because what this man says can make things very much easier for us and, if we are still lucky, he will say everything that we will need.
Yes, Nzoka. It seems that everything you have asked for, I have received...
Well I think I can say that this is my part in the process finished, my son. Do you want me to help with your last breath? Or will you be able to manage it yourself?
Don’t do anything more, Nzoka. It hurts.
There’s no more I can do now. I am beginning to feel myself become free of you, my son. Your priests are condemned. You will be forgiven because you have surely saved hundreds of people from their deception and treachery, from the same fate that you yourself suffered and has caused you such problems in life and death. Through the example I have helped you set here today, you will be mourned and made strong and then you will be ready to start your own journey. People will remember the teaching, but forget the teacher as the knowledge becomes common.
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