I went on a pilgrimage to 'Calvary' and met the 'Pope'

NAIROBI: The news that a Sh 70-million mausoleum was to be built somewhere in the remote jungles of Migori County in honour of a religious sect leader must have surprised many Kenyans.

Even more baffling was the presence of Migori County Governor Okoth Obado at a fundraiser for the mega project.

Clad in full Legio Maria regalia, the governor was a prominent guest at the fundraiser where Sh 1.5 million was realised.

Baba Simeo Lovdikus Melkio Ondeto, the Legio Maria sect leader and black Jesus to his devout followers scattered all over East Africa, died in 1992 aged 66.

He was buried at the sect’s headquarters on a squat hill called Got Kwer and fondly referred to by his followers as Calvary. According to the biblical gospels, Calvary also known as Golgotha is a hill outside the walls of Jerusalem, where it is believed Jesus Christ was crucified and died.

Convinced that their messiah would rise from the dead as did Jesus of Nazareth, Ondeto’s non-embalmed body lay for three days and nights, decomposing in the sapping heat until his followers reluctantly buried it when the stench became too much to bear. The idea of a mausoleum was conceived forthwith and with it, the conversion of the site into a holy destination for pilgrims. The latest such pilgrimage bringing together over 7,000 sect members from all over East Africa took place last month.

Unlike Mecca where hundreds have died in tragedies over the years, Got Kwer has generally been tragedy-free and low key until the governor graced the fundraiser last month.

I never met Ondeto. Neither did I have the privilege to bury him. Years later, the curiosity to know more about this black messiah of our time (he was born in 1926) saw me embark on a grueling journey to Got Kwer, a feat that I had to accomplish on foot, thanks to the absence of a proper road and vehicles to the site at the time.

Not much of that has changed to-date and Obado must have taken advantage of four wheel contraptions at his disposal to manoeuvre his way through the jungles.The walk to Got Kwer for pilgrims and others eager to reach there starts at Masara, a dusty or muddy trading centre depending on the weather on the Migori/Muhuru Bay road.

Businesses here are dominated by food outlets where porridge, tea, nyoyo (boiled maize and beans) and steaming ugali with fish and other local dishes are readily available at affordable prices. I had nyoyo washed down with a cavernous calabash of sour porridge and readied myself for the journey ahead.

Soon, sweat was coursing down my profile as I padded it through well-beaten footpaths across cassava, wilting maize, sweet potato and sorghum fields in the humid landscape hugging Lake Victoria.

Pits upon pits of abandoned gold mines yawned all over. I would occasionally come across miners in action or women washing out the unrefined mined stuff for the treasured metal at river beds.

Got Kwer was still far off, they would tell me to my dismay, with a word of encouragement that reaching Calvary would be fulfilling, the fatigue notwithstanding.

It was several hours when I finally reached the simple settlement of mud, concrete and corrugated iron roofed structures perched on a scraggy hill. A modest church that served as the headquarters of the sect was alive with the sound of worshippers. I was directed to a house where I was lucky to meet Ondeto’s successor, the late “Pope” Timothy Blasio Ahitler, said to be the first African to attain the papal rank.

Blasio, towering in his white robes looked every inch a revered man of God. I was barefoot out of reverence by the time he extended his hand for me to shake. He was seated on a high backed chair in his holy residence metres away from the Calvary Church and Ondeto’s grave.

“A pressman, you mean?” he said, smothering me with a gaze that bespoke disbelief. “People of your ilk rarely visit us here. Feel welcome.”

I could hear my heart pounding against my chest. The black “Pope” in his humility prayed for me and granted my request to visit the Messiah’s shrine, a simple tomb whose access is littered with pebbles.

I had to walk there barefoot, picking my way cautiously on the pebbles, some of which were too sharp for soles like mine used to shoes.

As etiquette demanded, I knelt down at the shrine in prayer before I nervously stood to click away for a few memorable shots to go with a story that I wrote on the puzzle that is Calvary away from the biblical Calvary.