all tried to do when they did deign to speak to her, he was fishing for information about her mysterious life.
If Baba Sally continued down this line of conversation, there would be questions like “She told me you stopped going to that church. Why did you leave the church?” and “When did you say you got married again?” These questions were like a formula, adding up the year she left the church with the year she got married subtracting that from the age of her twins all in a bid to calculate if the rumours were true: did she get her children out of wedlock? Had she trapped Mr. Mutiso into marrying her?
‘She told us you used to be a world class singer in the choir.’ Baba Sally nodded in the direction of his wife, the other party in the “us”. Mrs. Mutiso turned to look at the lady whose eyes bore down on her venomously.
‘Yes it was a long time ago. Have a good evening Baba Sally.’ she moved away to ensure she didn’t hear his follow up question.
~
‘Uh…hello?’ Mr. Karanja voice didn’t rise above the din as he had hoped it would. ‘Good evening everybody,’ he tried again, nodding along to his words, his voice not reaching further than Mr. Mathai who looked up when he realized Mr. Karanja was trying to get people’s attention.
With a wink, Mr. Mathai stood up and began to talk as if Mr. Karanja had asked for his assistance.
‘Everyone! Hello! Okay, okay this is very good. Waow look at that. We have been here for three months and I was beginning to think this estate was full of ghosts only. Thank you to the Karanjas for creating such a wonderful institution for us to meet one another.’ The room went silent as Mr. Mathai spoke.
‘My names are John Njoroge Mathai and this is my loving wife––’ here he beckoned for Mama Kanono to stand up. She did so reluctantly and only because he would insist she stood up if she tried to refuse. Mama Kanono was not the only person wishing Mr. Mathai would sit down. Mr. Karanja watched Mr. Mathai delivering his little speech as if this were his house with what was, at first, bewilderment but by now had metamorphosed into irritation.
‘Eh…okay, thank you Mr. Mathai for the introduction. Thank you, I hope there is somewhere for everyone to sit.’ Mr. Karanja tried to steal back the spotlight from Mr. Mathai.
‘No no, not at all, thank you for inviting us and what a lovely home. You can really feel the spirit of God in this home.’ There was a wave of “amens” uttered with deep feeling.
‘Mr. Mathai, we are only doing God’s work,’ Mr. Karanja said, not displeased that his neighbours had noticed how spirit filled his home was.
And now here was Mrs. Karanja standing next to her husband. Her appearance by his side shifted everyone's attention from Mr. Mathai to her. The Karanjas were, as it was becoming evident to Malaba’s residents, an interesting mismatch. Mr. Karanja was the kind of person you’d keep meeting throughout your life and each time you would do the right thing and introduce yourself always forgetting you knew him already.
Mrs Karanja on the other hand!
Where Mr. Karanja’s features were bland and made him indistinguishable from any other light-skin, port-bellied, Kikuyu man, Mrs. Karanja was striking. To start with all the hair on her head that made up the bouffant she wore for the better part of that decade was all hers. She was the kind of woman people stopped on the street just to tell her how beautiful she was. She could easily have been a TV ad model and she was on track to becoming one when she met the Lord at a Billy Graham crusade at Uhuru Park and never looked back.
I am merely speculating here, but the only way Mr. Karanja landed Mrs. Karanja was because she was on the look-out for a man willing to build a church with her and he shared the same vision as she did. Chance is a wily bastard, let no one deceive you.
~
Mrs. Karanja opened the Bible Study with a short prayer. In the natural order of things, a worship song came next. It took a few minutes for the gathered to pick a song, as would be expected from a multi-denominational gathering. Amazing Grace was thwarted because it was too sad. Someone suggested The Old Rugged Cross. Someone else shot it down because it wasn’t Easter so there was no point singing it. Another suggestion, Tunakushukuru Mama Maria was received with enthusiasm from the Catholics but was dismissed by the other denominations. Finally, a song was picked, a song universally loved and claimed by all denominations: Baraka Za Mungu.
‘Mrs. Mutiso was a choir master once. I think she should lead this one,’ Baba Sally piped up before his hand was slapped by his wife.
‘Oh really? In high school? We got to the regionals. Which school did you go to? We might have competed against each other,’ A bold voice asserted.
Mrs. Mutiso’s tongue felt heavy in her mouth. The attention on her made her feel claustrophobic.
‘I…uh…’
‘I can lead it if the honourable madam doesn’t want to,’ Mr. Mathai offered and he proceeded to do so though he didn’t know all of the words.
~
‘My fellow brothers and sisters in the Lord, thank you once again for coming today.’ Mr. Karanja’s voice was an arduous monotone. From the second he opened his mouth to speak, minds began to wonder. After the song, a few minutes passed where he explained how the Bible Study would work. They would read through the entire Bible over one year, using a study guide to assist them.
‘Eh…this guide…don’t you think we should be studying the Bible using the Bible itself not a study guide?’ Mama Sally interrupted him. This observation got a few nods, a few grunts of approval and even an “amen”. ‘I mean, why are we using another book to study the word of God? What if the person who wrote it is wrong in his interpretations?’ More people were swayed by her thinking.
‘Eh…’ Mr. Karanja had not anticipated a challenge to his plan.
‘I think we should vote on the matter,’ Mama Sally continued.
‘Wait! Wait just a minute.’ Mr. Mathai got up to intervene. ‘Mr. Karanja, I mean, Pastor Mister Karanja here is the ordained pastor. If he has read the book and thinks it is in line with the word of God, then we should do as he says.’ Mr. Mathai knew only too well that a vote would end in acrimony and to think this could be the end of such wonderful get-together with his neighbours. He wouldn’t have it.
‘Eh…’ Mr. Karanja resented Mr. Mathai’s interjection even more than he did Mama Sally’s challenge. He’d also not found the words to defend his decision yet––
‘Yes, we have been going through the Bible using this study book with our church Bible Study and we can personally attest to the fact that it is in line with God’s word,’ Mrs. Karanja said standing up as well to assure her neighbours.
Mr. Mathai and Mrs. Karanja had a pull on their neighbours who preferred to side with them over Mama Sally. They were the popular kids of this particular high school. The matter was dropped and Mr. Karanja was given over a subdued crowd which stayed that way until Mr. Mathai interrupted to say ‘––but the words in this book are very small.’
‘In which book? The Bible or the study guide?’ someone enquired only too willing to welcome the interruption.
‘The study guide. Mama Kanono can you see this?’ Mr. Mathai held the study guide to his wife’s
