The Last Fight (1)

By LAWRENCE CHITERI
Published November 15, 2009

This is a Bishops’ residence with a difference. The air around this imposing edifice is serene and explosive. The architectural design was well thought out, and magnanimous. Marble dots the infrastructure, like they were meant to don only this haven. The residence sits in a 100- acre plot, encompassing almost a town, in a town. The security arrangement, and details, would shame an ordinary president’s, by as far as the details, and selectiveness can go. The aura surrounding the Bishop’s residence is magnetic and awe inspiring. That the Bishop is the chief resident here, implores spiritual endowment, and adherents are hypnotized, to the point of adoration of a near god.

No body knows for sure the minute details, completing this castle, except that it flows with the biblical milk and honey. Those who chance to enter the payroll here, are revered to sainthood, and dazzle the ne ‘er do wells of the world. This is a well kept, and maintained residence, with specific attention to minor details of life. This is a special day in the annals of the history of the life of Bishop; and he has carefully selected the people, to grace the occasion.

There is going to be an ordination; it will be a largely private affair, and inside the residence of the Bishop, not in a church! Before the ordination, has been organized an elaborate ball, at which session macho will be unveiled, people will make merry, and see him accept to be priest, in Bishops hierarchy of schemes. The setting is bewitching;  it is solemn, and exclusive. Bishop has invited the who is who in the city, and in his life, they are the fuel that propel his mission, making the common mass irrelevant.

Tables have been laden with every culinary nicety, neon lights have dutifully captured the mood of the occasion, and people are in pairs, murmuring palatable words to co-operating ears. The attire selected by these guests, exhibit a world devoid of want, and misery. Many people have come clad in clothing, cut out specifically for them, and sourced from across borders. Never mind that they found their way to the Bishop’s residence, in cruising machines reputed for the habit, to guzzle and reign in the much sought after monetary substances.

About two minutes to the inception of the ball, Macho has not appeared, Bishop and his hench people, Mother Hinda, Father Zamisha, and Sister Tata arrive in style, but the air of apprehension is pasted all round their frames. There is harmless music, seething from invisible devices, and the aura is resplendent. Just then two butlers rush in, and one of them catches bishop’s ear, he stoops to the level of his cupped mouth, and Bishop is seen nodding in excitement. When the butler is through, they quickly glide noiselessly out of the scene, and Bishop straightens himself up.

He clasps his hands together, smiles in appreciation of all the things, that are happening, and the ones he knows will take place presently. Bishop attracts attention by clapping his hands, and there is a sudden wave of silence, except in one corner, where some people seem to have overindulged.

“Over there please!” he calls, and everyone is silent.”He comes! …Macho comes…thank God this woeful waiting is over…the hand tells me.” Everyone is suddenly ablaze with merriment; Bishop is visibly triumphant, and stoic. He takes immediate control of the proceedings, when he hears uproarious response from his guests, ”your glasses please! A resounding toast! Music,” and a song burst forth welcoming Macho into the flock.

When the music dies down, Macho is standing dazed, right in the front of all the people. Everyone begins to cast glances around, people are dumbfounded, the earlier excitement has been extinguished. Many people are agape, and motionless, nobody finds their voice, until they uniformly scream out, “welcome Macho.”  There is sudden silence again, Macho moves a little towards the congregation, and they retreat from him. It is at this time that they see him well, Macho tries to open his mouth, but words escape him for a while.

To continued.

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