so, after having a not so great yet thrilling weekend, i wanted to tell a story, not a great story though, a simple one, and as i remember i had promised to tell tales about this land awhile ago, here i am, having had a not so great yet thrilling weekend, having planned a lot yet accomplishing non of that, so i better tell my damn story and get back to the shit of a week that’s ahead of me with my head held high-for at least i told a story!!
So today is not going to be the day i tell of Atoti Koko, not that he doesn’t still live in Ekot, but because this story is non of his business, if it was, it would be because he is nosy, he has nothing to do with it, okay??..so Ekot the village and no Atoti Koko today, Atoti Koko is funny and what i am about to narrate has nothing to do with his shitty funny twists. Agreed? cool!
So a man preaching in what was the last mourning night for one late son of Ekot, he had left the world- at this point the son, and quiet young he was, he had been shot..by who?..wait a minute, this is not his story, today the story is about the preacher, so the dead young son of Ekot only comes up because he would have to be buried the next day and the preacher preached about reconciling ones life with the creator on this very night, too much publicity on this topic, the story is about what ensued after the preacher left this home, so buckle up, tighten that freaking seat belt and read more, you know i come from Banana hill which is not a banana republic, we just grow them-bananas of course, and up there we use a lot of euphemism so freaking means something else. remember??
So after telling people about this heavenly journey and how to get a ticket there, he already had one-this he promised, though this took a whole freaking long time, (he would just have summarized it and given his damn obvious conclusion, but not this preacher, he was an orator, gifted with a tongue and mind that captured peoples attention, and he knew how to paint pictures, illustrating things that people felt connected to and around, he told better stories than i am trying to but today is my day and not his, so i tell and you freaking have to just buckle up, get over your freaking hangover and just relax, i woke up in this mood so oblige and be good, i did the dirty work your’s is easy get a cup of tea or a bottle of water and squeeze your way down the story,you are lucky, wonna know how?for example, you could jump this crazy part if you like??)
So i also try to copy you and jump one part-the part where he took tea after the preaching. So now we find ourselves in the part where around mid night after escorting people, most of them women and young girls-part of who were in this congregation of a mourning night( by the way, i am so jumpy today- the reader should know one thing, in Ekot if somebody passed away, they do the mourning week, this is what happens- every night people come to your house or compound or somewhere near there, meet up plan about the final send off, give the little money they can, sing a lot in an attempt to comfort the next of kin and actually succeed-they always do, because there, it takes a village to bring up a child and so does the send off, nobody needs to be invited, they just come for that’s who they are, now you know the culture even as you sip your tea or water to relief your headache—hangover in quotes, and now you know you owe me one..steve the culture teacher ja?)..wait, did i also mention that after this singing and its late night it’s the task of men to ensure that every woman, young or old get’s home safe? yes this is the way of life there and the preacher was just doing the norm!
So what i am about to narrate to you now can not leave this wall, please do not say i told you this because it’s sensitive. We are now in the next day, where the village woke up in a misty day expecting to pay it’s last respect to the departed young soul, but got shocked, there was another dead, one of its own, one who had preached the previous night, a good man who had escorted many women home, an orator, oooh what a shock…relax, this is not what shocked many for he had a ticked to heaven and this he had promised them, its how it happened..shiiihh..okay..According to the eye witnesses-there are no first responders in Ekot just eye witnesses! A body of a man, who would later be positively identified as the preacher by eye witnesses, had been found in a thicket adjacent to a coffee farm-they grow coffee and tea over there so sip in yours knowing where it comes from, found with his pants open wide his whatever i will not say for euphemism reasons(dick) standing stiff but of course dead and by the look of it he had died in the act.
Later they would learn of a certain Mama mboga who was the last to be escorted by the preacher, and her story affirmed all their fears, he died on the act, he had been doing normal in the-this she said after being pressured she was the last to be seen with him,up untill at a certain point he stopped became stiff and she freaked out , pushing him aside and running away, she was so frightened indeed and the people agreed she should have been, The man had diabetes and this is how it kills so take sugar at your own risk and i too agree, but the man died in a good spot i dare think but i don’t say for some people might accuse me of crazy staff or even think i got crazy which is nearly the truth as i tell of this village, Ekot, and yes i said one day i will tell of crazy stuff but all this happens there, what happens in Ekot, stays damn in Ekot, Shhhhhh….don’t tell a friend!!