11/12/2024
๐ง๐๐๐๐ฆ ๐ข๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ก๐ฌ๐๐ก ๐๐๐ฅ๐-๐๐๐๐ก๐
โ๐จ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. Please try to hurry up. We have to leave now!โ My mother shouted outside my room after knocking once at my door.
โ๐ซ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ด๐๐!โ 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.
โDonโt forget to carry your bible. The one your dad bought you on your fifteenth birthday.โ 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 ๐ต๐ฌ๐พ ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฎ ๐ฑ๐จ๐ด๐ฌ๐บ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฉ๐ณ๐ฌโ. I slowly undusted it 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,โ๐๐ถ๐๐ผ ๐ป๐ถ ๐ธ๐ฎ๐บ๐ฎ ๐บ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐ถ ๐ธ๐๐ฎ ๐ ๐๐ป๐ด๐.โ His words echoed into my ears.
I hurriedly rushed to the mirror. I looked at myself for a moment. The smile on my face faded away when it really came into my mind that life was going to change. For the next 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 body 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. โWe have to light the lamp and put it on the table, for it to shine and others to see. ๐ฆ๐ถ๐ผ ๐ธ๐๐ถ๐๐ฒ๐ธ๐ฎ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ถ๐ป๐ถ ๐๐ฎ ๐บ๐ฒ๐๐ฎ!โ He always reminded me whenever I dressed for an occasion. โI preach to people about being decent, and so my family should be an epitome. Not preaching water while we drink wine. ๐จ๐ณ๐ฎ๐น๐บ๐ฒ ๐๐ฎ ๐ ๐๐ป๐ด๐ ๐๐ถ ๐๐ฎ ๐ต๐ฎ๐๐ผ ๐บ๐ฎ๐บ๐ฏ๐ผ!โ 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 dadโs eyes, but also before the eyes of God. That is all a pastorโs daughter had to do always. Or was it a way of protecting me from the many hungry men out there? I didnโt 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. It was time to leave the room and let the mosquitoes that disturbed 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 didnโt know I had this perception about school. Otherwise, the visible and invisible spirits would have been cast out of me in 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,โ๐ฒ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. ๐จ๐๐๐!โ
It was expected of him anyway. 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 dadโs 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. โ๐ฒ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ด๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐!โ 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 โHey, please let us just call it off. I think my dad knows about usโ. 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. โ๐ฒ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐.โ He always told me.
๐๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ช๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฎ Pastor Zipporah K. Sila
๐๐ค๐ง ๐๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ช๐๐ง๐๐๐จ ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ช๐ง๐ฉ๐๐๐ง ๐๐ฃ๐๐ค๐ง๐ข๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ, ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ: +254 726601888
๐๐๐ค๐ฉ ๐๐ฎ Micah Amani
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