“It all over, Chelsea are the new European Champions!”
That statement was what got me to church on Sunday. Chelsea had the last laugh. And oh my, was it sweet. I am not a Chelsea fan, but I had a lot banking on that game. For a start, Ksh. 3850 on bets was on the line. Yes, it was that serious; to me, the unexpected is expected, because I have come to expect the unexpected in football. And I had promised God that should the wife grabbers win the match, the very first thing I’d do on Sunday was to go to church. Ok, not really, I first had to sleep as the match ended way after Sunday started, then I had to wake up, shower, take breakfast and walk to church. It was the very first time I kept a promise to God.
I know, it sounds immoral; the fact that I needed financial motivation to go the House of God. It isn’t. We all have our reasons why we go to church; many to find potential spouses that are ‘born again.’ Or as a Luhya would say, “Porn Again”; God loves porn again people after all. Others go to church because they bought expensive new heels that only they can afford and do not want to miss a golden opportunity to show them off to multitudes of people that have gathered gladly for the show. Very few, I repeat, very few people, go to church to pray. Finally, there are the few like me, who believe God is the benefactor of everything including life and money.
So I found myself tagging alongside my mum, who frankly, was astounded that I was even awake at 9.00 am, leave alone accompanying her to church. Needless to say, we parted ways the moment we entered that gate- somehow I have never understood why churches have doors and gates, you’d think the House of God would be the most secure place on earth. I headed over to the corner, as far away from the watchful, painfully reproachful eye of my mother, just in case the need to post a tweet on twitter should arise. And it did.
The pastor started off the sermon with “I am just from Nigeria in case you are wondering why I am dressed like I am.” In my head it sounded something like “I have been to Nigeria. See my heels and my elegant skirt, you’re damn right they are not from your pathetic country so shut the hell up and listen to me.” I was willing to overlook the fact that I had just been stepped on by a woman I had never seen before, except she proceeded, “and I am here to cast out demons.”
Much to my bewilderment, people were applauding. Some people, the show offs, took this opportunity to throw money on her feet. I am not saying I thought it was pointless, I found it amusing actually as it looked similar to the same fashion the Catholic Church lost its money fighting lawsuits they couldn’t win; lawsuits of child molestation. Pointless on the other hand is why they sterilize needles for lethal injections.
All religion-related activity in my brain ceased. For the first time, I noticed the people I seated next to; I was more confused than an infant in a topless bar. I found myself looking around just in case I spotted a demon, or worse, Lucifer seated like a boss at one corner, laughing quietly, scheming his next move. Nothing. I looked back at her in frustration, willing every nerve in body to stop the mutiny that was going on in my head and which was about to conquer my mouth next. I took out my phone to prevent myself from shouting back,
“Excuse me little miss sunshine from Nigeria, I have looked around and I can see no demons. Please be kind enough to point them out for me.”
Instead, I tweeted my thoughts.
Not that I don’t believe demons exist; like the suicidal blonde that killed her twin sister by mistake, it is stupid to believe that God exists when you don’t believe there is a Devil. But the thing is all the demons I have come across are people. People with troubled minds who look to the church as validation that they are not insane; that they are in fact possessed.
I have a hard time trying to convince myself that the man who bombed a church some time back in Ngara was possessed. Or that the guy that raped a 6 year old girl was in cahoots with the devil. Or worse, that that the man who first his wife to death, then set his house ablaze so he and his entire family would burn to death, including the two young girls that were fast asleep in their bedroom, was led to do it by the little red devil perched on his shoulder.
I believe that there is a God and there is a Devil and likewise, that there is good and there is evil; two things each man must decide which to be. Like two sides of a coin, you cannot be both at the same time, but you can have both. It all boils down to which face is up but unlike the coin that needs to be tossed and cannot choose for itself, everyman has it in him to pick one and fight the other. Then there is the third side of the coin that nobody ever considers significant.
If you’ve watched the movie The Adjustment Bureau then you know how much power mere chance has in reality; chance is responsible for lots of things. Hitler got into the army by chance; but it was the decisions he made there after that would later prove the platform for his misguided politics and the cause of a six year war that would leave in its wake 60 million people dead including him.
My point being, we are our own worst enemies; we create the world we live in and likewise the demons that haunt us as portrayed in the thriller, Inception. A few misguided words of advice here and there, a few moments of weakness, a few moments of rage, hate and jealous glances; those are the downfalls of man. And the question is what type of person are you and what side of the coin are you on? Are you the good guy, the bad guy or do you leave it all to chance before you can decide. As far as I am concerned, everybody seems normal until you get to know them
***FACT: If you take the first letters of the first names of the main characters of Inception, you get the word DREAMS; Dom, Robert, Eames, Arthur, Mallorie, and Saito.***