Like Siamese twins, you cannot tell Gitegi from drama. And in the heart of every drama sits Harold. As every other politician in the country wakes up in the morning and first checks if their nemeses had another scandal unfold in the night, Harold sniffs around for drama and then dives straight into the fray.
After last week’s incident of withdrawal, and immediate reinstatement, of Sue’s security guard, I thought Harold was rattled enough by the ripple effects of that unfortunate move and choose a calmer route. I was wrong.
When an aggrieved Sue promised to up the ante of her campaigns and included churches on the list of places she planned to visit, Harold and his forces, led by yours truly, lost it.
Messengers were sent to Sue at her drinking den to tell her we were unwilling to host her at the church, Harold’s Assemblies of Holy Associates (HAHA). The messengers were, however, unable to relay the message with the accuracy it deserved, drinking and forgetting most of what they had been sent to say.
As such, we sent a circular, which Harold argued should be called a rectangular, to all and sundry, to inform them that campaigns had been outlawed in churches.
“Harold retains the rights to campaign at the pulpit, seeing as he is the only man who runs a church of note, or anything that can be called a church,” the note said.
The opposing faction used the note to prove that Harold is a dictator.
“Harold here claims that he is the only man that retains the rights, which means that he is intent on taking away the few rights we still enjoy,” a statement from Sue, which must have been crafted by maybe the brightest person in the village, which makes me appear like I was involved, read.
“He says that his church is a church of note, which means that everyone who is unable to contribute anything more than a note, is unwelcome. Boycott!”
Stay informed. Subscribe to our newsletter
I knew that the message would only appeal to the men in the village: first because it is men who frequent the drinking den, and two because not many know what a boycott means; many have asked if there is a chance to girlcott as well.
Sunday afternoon, news reached the house that Sue was planning to visit one of the local churches for campaigns. A frantic Harold instructed me to get intel on which church our common foe was headed for. When I liaised with her communication team, they told me something that shocked me.
Sue had not only started her political party after the infamous fallout with Harold; she had now opened a church!
My brigade and I camped by Sue’s house, waiting for her to leave. All we were supposed to do was follow Harold’s ex-lover and her battalion to wherever they would lead us.
Late afternoon, Sue left the house in the company of her followers. They chanted freedom songs, some straight from the 1992 movie Sarafina. Every now and then, they hurled insults at Harold and his “helpless little sycophantic adviser”.
What pleased me, though, is that they admitted that while they knew Harold was worried for his stomach, hence his aggression in the pursuit of reelection, they did not quite understand why I was supporting his campaign.
The procession, mainly made up of people who have never seen the sunset from their backyards because that hour finds them gulping down muratina manufactured by Sue at Sue’s, proceeded to the shopping centre. We followed.
And were shocked when they all trickled into the bar. There, the service began with Sue turning wine into money and satisfied belches.
I learnt that evening that Sue had started a church of drunkards, and its name was Believers Entertainment and Enlightenment Retreat (BEER). The games had begun. Aah!