They say that when the wolf, even in sheepskin disguised as clothes, was questioned about his occupation, he meekly answered that he was a competent shepherd.

Therefore, it comes as no surprise that a servant of the Most High with the express mandate to deliver the flock from trespasses lured one of the many women in his church to Kings Castle Boarding and Lodging for ‘short time’ prayers.

And according to the grapevine, the prayer session was quite steamy were it not for the interruption of cameras and the victim’s jealous husband who came in and messed up the session, which we are told was steadily ascending towards cloud nine.

Therefore, obviously, we have a deep misunderstanding, which requires demystification. And since prophet Mutahi Ngunyi, he of the ‘tyranny of numbers’ infamy hardly ever comments on issues of the flesh and spirit, yours truly has decided to delve deep into this sensitive issue to discover why pastors have taken to expel the demon from deep within the recesses of women’s ‘fundamendos’.

Maybe their noble intentions are marred by the fact that they conduct this business in houses of sin, but then again, didn’t the Lord himself not dine in the house of a tax collector, even stating that the lost sheep are the main reason why he descended down on Earth in the first place?

Sunday school

When I announce to Michelle that I will be opening the ‘Willing Spirit Deliverance Ministries, she just laughed at me like I was crazy.

“Timbuktu, who ordained you as pastor?” she wanted to know. This woman is a funny wife indeed. If ole Jomo can remember songs from his Sunday school so may years ago, anyone can do it.

“May I tell you what will happen if you go ahead and open your precious church?” she asked.
“No thanks please,” I answered back. “I want to be surprised this time,” I told her, obviously concerned that things happen exactly according to her disastrous predictions.

I would discover whether the problem lay with the pastors some of whom are said to be high on altar wine or the brides of Christ.

My oh my! Isn’t the word of the Lord easy to administer to lost souls. “Luka 2:52” I thundered into the mike after a rendition of the song Kapungala from the Church choir.

“Therefore, faithful, as you can see, even Jesus was as child once. He grew up just fine even though the local MCA, a fellow who was related to Pilate’s wife stole from the public. He increased in wisdom and height even if the laptops never came,” I said amid cheers.

By the time I was through with my sermon, we were in agreement that even the ‘Okoa Kenya’ and ‘Pesa Mashinani’ would not hinder our Maendeleo as Kenyans.

Of course, after such a rousing sermon, I received an uproarious applause, plus a standing ovation to boot. But do I say! I, however, attribute all to the spirit, which was at work inside of me.

“Willing Spirit Ministries ‘inapamba’!” someone shouted. I knew that at this rate, I would soon get my own TV ministry and perhaps grow as rich as those wannabes driving around in big cars in Jesus’ name.

And then I will perform an ordination of my number one doubting Thomas who goes by the name of Michelle. Make the woman my number two in the church hierarchy so that we fit in with the rest of the crowd. The ‘kina’ Kiuna’s, Muiru’s etc. I am sure that way, she will have attained her celeb status just like that. Curing her malignant disbelief.

I step down from the altar, just as the choir, backed by the band were starting the song ‘Lingala ya Yesu’. A very danceable tune that I could not resist even in my robes.

The entire congregation joined in the jig. We danced Kuku, Helicopter but before we went ‘chini kwa chini’, I made sure there was no Kwale man around with a ‘bakora’.

Of course, being a public figure, I did not want to suffer the same fate as the former Prime Minister who was attacked for apparently getting jiggy close to someone’s wife.

Selfies

The faithful were throwing their hands in the air as the song hit crescendo and it was difficult to tell who was who. Of course, most ladies took the opportunity to snap selfies with ‘Mchungaji’, (Ahem! that’s me) for posterity and in the process, I got a gazillion prayer requests.

“Haki pastor Timbuktu, ‘si ukam’ to my place ‘uniombee. Mapepo’ are really bothering my head!” they would whisper into my ear.

I nodded in agreement to all requests; although I knew I would have to do some vetting. All women from Nyeri would have to make do with preaching from the pulpit.

‘Sitaki noma’. And divorcees getting welfare from their exes were also a big No! These jealous exes are the ones busting pastors during ‘special prayer sessions’.

The best option are career ladies and single parents with no strings attached. The only problem, however, this is the group, which happily posts the details of your affair on Deadbeat.

I am confused. But what I have realised is that women are the ones endangering serving the Lord.