Ladies and gentlemen (and everyone in between) of the cathedral, how are you today? You look beautiful and healthy, have you taken your vaccines yet? My name is Jones; I come from the great state of Kanunga Republic. Okay, enough of the small talk, let’s now move to the medium talk, and perhaps we’ll reach the big talk.
Now, before I start, I’ll request that you all sit down and gather around me as I narrate to you the story of what happened at TeaGony Monastery. Sited? We shall now begin. *Clears throat.*
After spending sleepless nights waiting for the day, it finally arrived. Yaani siku ilifika, kwa wale ambao hawaelewi Lugha ya kimombo (Hi Reuben!).
The group of youth that I met at church that evening was so happy I thought walikua wametetemesha. One girl was extremely excited, she was gamboling all over the place with such vibrant energy that I was left wondering just what it is that she had taken for lunch. Expired cannabis?
Her name was Maryanne.
Big Morgan was also grinning from ear to ear like the proverbial Cheshire cat. For those who don’t know who Big Morgan is; shame on you! Big Morgan is the father of our group, while Sweet Sally is our mother. So, you want to tell me that Morgan is our dad and Sally is our mum and the two aren’t married? Yes! We’re kids born out of wedlock.
Every one of us had a luggage in which we carried personal effects such as towels, mosquito nets, toothbrushes, harpic, pampers and mosquitoes. In addition to some of the above-mentioned, I had also brought with me my pin-hole camera.
The Private Jet err, bus landed soon after we had said our prayers. Riding in a bus is not healthy. According to a website called google.com, people riding in a busy become lazy and fat. I wanted to suggest that we find an uphill road and push the bus all the way to Tigoni. We would then find another uphill road back and again push the bush all the way from Tigoni to the Cathedral. This way, we would all grow sinewy muscles and six-packs from the exercise. The only reason why I did not moot my plan was because I thought it felt fifty shades of stupid. Does it?
Wakati wa kuingia kwenye basi ulipowasili, Hapo ndipo nilipong’amua ya kwamba, wahenga hawakutupaka mafuta kwa makalio na chupa ya mgongo walipoamba ya kwamba, murio wa bathi ni guikara thutha.
The above paragraph is better read in Mohammed Ali’s voice.
Everybody flocked at the back of the bus, but not me. I wanted to reach earlier, so I chose to sit directly behind the driver.
The flight to Tigoni was one whole merry affair. Guys cracked jokes which sent many ROTFOTBL as though they were on crack. For those of you who repeated nursery school (like me), ROTFOTBL means rolling on the floor of the bus laughing.
One of the teenagers laughed so hard that porridge shot right off their nose. That’s gross, I know.
Another one of us, after hearing a funny joke from his crush, laughed so loudly that unfounded reports indicate he peed in his pants! Hahahahabananahahahahaha!
Admit it, you didn’t notice I said ‘banana’ in the middle of that Hahahahabananahahahahaha!
I myself, laughed so uncontrollably that I threw myself outside the window. No I didn’t, but I almost did.
We arrived at Tigoni Monastery an hour later. I was expecting to find a troop of traditional dancers welcoming us with Isukuti dances and a germ-laden guard full of Mursik, but it seems God had better plans for us.
We walked (nay, I hopped) to a certain conference hall where we all sat down and Pastor Ndere, Pastor Wachira and Pastor Mwaura also sat down. After a whole hour of sitting down, I started feeling a strange sensation in my stomach, which I mistook for common labour pains and ignored. However, I discovered these were no ordinary pangs of childbirth when after a few more minutes of sitting down, the internally displaced persons in my stomach, minyoo, held a press conference and threatened to sue me if I didn’t grant them their rights. That is
when it dawned to me that I was actually hungry. I was pleased when Passy announced that dinner was served.
The Buffet was one of a kind! Especially the meat! Wow! I tell you if their ever was a day when my stomach wrote me a vote of thanks, it was that day. Working together in unity (special mention to Gachui); we all ate more food than a third world country could ever consume. It’s no wonder that five days later, yours truly is still leaking his fingers.
What I found most discombobulating (I like using that word) was the fact that ladies too, were eating. Si I thought ladies fast! Okay, forgive my single-digit IQ.
Immediately after supper, room service directed us to our respective rooms. Imagine ati we couldn’t share rooms with members of the opposite sex! I assigned myself room number 30. I think the room was where Saint Valerian used to live, because his name was inscribed on the door. “This is pure utopia,” I said to myself as I sunk onto the comfy divan. I had not carried with me my tape measure as I usually do, but am sure the bed was somewhere close to a six-by- six.
There was a moment I was surprised to see my non-existent twin brother behind the sink, and I would have screamed had I not realized that that was actually my own reflection in the mirror. Smh. Someone once told if I were any more stupid, I would be doing that KICC advert next. That someone was right.
I moved to explore the bathroom and when warm water came out, I thanked heavens for bringing me to a five-star hotel. I’ve never been to a five-star hotel before, but I envisioned this is how the accommodation at Grand Regency would look something like this.
If you think we went to sleep at that time, you are wrong. In fact, you are very wrong that you are a failure in life. You deserve to be beaten and locked up in Kismayu for even thinking of such a thing, ati we went to sleep when the night was still so young! You should be embarrassed of yourself!
Instead, we came to star in the Cathedral episode of Tujuane. You know Tujuane the TV show, don’t you? Now the Cathedral version is a little bit different. Passy Wachira was our show-host. We all sat in a big round circle and our host would fish one person at a time into the center of the circle. We would all watch in glee as the person fished try’s to fight stage fright. One of my friends, (Shiro, I think) was so overwhelmed that her bladder nearly gave way. Why she neither defecated nor peed in the heat of Tujuane is still something that am pondering about, and will write a blog post about it once I find out the answer.
What did I learn during the Tujuane session? There are places with really beautiful girls in this world, and St. James ACK is their capital. Saying that the Cathedral girls are gorgeous would be an understatement of the year. These Daughters of Eve are fearfully and wonderfully made. You can’t find such kind of beauty anywhere else. I had to keep reminding myself that this was a church retreat so as to avoid swooning over the girls. But when the pastor urged us to be ourselves, I actually toyed with the idea of making a move or two. 😛
What happened after Tujuane? If you can’t recall, I’d advise you to scratch your head. Research has shown that scratching ones’ head removes lice, thus helping them recall things.
Having scratched my head, I now remember that music is what followed. Plus a bonfire. For those who don’t know what a bonfire is, let me check up its definition for you online. *Takes out my Galaxy S4*. Lol! Just kidding, I use a Techno Kabambe.
According to www.urbandictionary.com, a bonfire is a large rambunctious fire whose side effects include unplanned pregnancies, hangovers and herpes. Gosh! I never knew the internet could be so misleading! What we had was a beautiful thing whereby we sat around the fire and told stories till 1AM. This was a church thing, remember?
We were a little bit rambunctious I agree, but that’s because we were playing football at midnight. Congrats to that girl who joined the men’s football guys and even shamed some guys like Wafula in their own game. The girls too were frolicking all over the place playing some games that I didn’t make out. Might have been kati or kalongo. Congrats to Big Morgan who joined the lasses in their camaraderie and even put to shame girls like Vanessa in their own game.
Did I mention there was music? *scratches head*
Music was around in plenty, but I didn’t dance. I’d already warned my friends that I don’t shake a leg in public. It’s not my fault. It’s just that every time I dance, someone has to die. And if I dance on a tiled floor like the one we were on, the management would have to replace the tiles the following day. Yea, I dance that badly.
We finally retired to bed at 1AM. Before I slept, I decided to do a little stalking on that guy that used to occupy my room. The Wikipedia informed me that Saint Valerian of Abbenza was a bishop in North Africa, and he was martyred in 457 when he refused to surrender sacred vessels of his church to vandals led by King Geiseric. Valerian was driven out of the city and left to die of exposure.
I was wondering how one dies of exposure when my eyelids gave in and shut themselves tight.
END OF DAY ONE