SOWE rekuDOMBOSHAVA had been the pastor’s choice.
He had said that there was power in those mountains; power to unlock God’s favour.
His sermon on God’s favour had been inspiring.
He had said: “God’s favour will give you the job you don’t qualify to have. God’s favour will give you the spouse everyone thinks you don’t deserve. God’s favour will open doors for you. God’s favour will get you the visa to the UK and the USA nyore nyore with no questions asked.”
On the mountain slope, a college girl had been possessed by the spirit of a fallen freedom fighter and caused quite a fracas and identified himself as Comrade Gandidzanwa before the network was lost.
The girl had no clue as to what had happened. An age mate explained and teased her about it.
She wondered how it was so.
“I think we are being short-changed. We cannot come up this far on this spirit booster and lose network.”
The college girl’s age mate wished the service provider would restore the network.
The pastor overheard the young people. He couldn’t contain his amusement and burst out laughing.
He chastised the boy: ‘Iwe mupfanha be serious wanzwa?’
But there was a part of him that wanted the boy to continue. He was thinking kuti the analogy was good material for his next Sunday sermon.
He kept close to them but his proximity only made them self-conscious. They code-switched to a social media jargon that excluded him. They also stepped out of earshot and his age failed to keep up.
The pastor read the strategy and countered. He called for a halt and explained that they should keep close and not stray. While waiting for the stragglers to catch up with the main flock, the college girl suddenly got up, thrust a fist into the air and chanted: “Icho!”
Someone remarked: “Ah-h-h Comrade Gandidzanwa is back!”
The medium’s age mate said: “Pano panenge pane good network apa.”
The observation drew laughter.
The college girl also laughed and chided her mate: “Iwe comrade uri kumbonyatsoti kudii?”
The flock observed that she was still Comrade Gandidzanwa and looked to the pastor for guidance.
The pastor maintained an awkward silence and the flock acted on the awkward silence to sit themselves on the slope.
The college girl remained standing and she turned to face the pastor.
The old guide found the set-up intriguing … like a war time pungwe without guns.
The girl thrust a fist into the air and shouted: “Pamberi neChimurenga!”
When there was no response she said: “I can see hamusikuda kudaira slogan. Asi mapanduka kani?”
A big woman who was not the first big woman hushed to those around her: “Askana tikateedzera kadhimoni aka tinoshaya chatainga muno.”
The girl pointed to the big woman and said: “Mhaiyo speak up so that povo yese can hear you. Not everyone can hear whispers and thoughts like us. We knew you would be coming. And we have been trailing you since you started the ascent. We know what each of you wants and we heard what each of you said. We know who is fake and who is genuine. We know who is clean and who is unclean. Saka tamirira kuona kuchawira tsvimbo nedohwe.”
She surveyed the surprised flock with a strange gaze and challenged: “Did you hear what I have just said? I said that we know who is fake and who is genuine. We know who is clean and who is unclean.”
She raised her brows and challenged again: “Are there any questions or doubts?”
She suddenly crumbled and her age mate grabbed her before she hit the granite surface on her face.
The young man grinned and remarked again: “Oh my God. Network yaenda zvekare.”
Three women rushed forward to get her out of the hands of the male.They carefully laid her down on her back.
An elderly woman edged to the side of the fallen hero, put her hands on the head of the hero and started praying.
Another woman raised the song: “Jehovha chiona zvaite nyika ….”
It was slow and solemn and it caught like a clean camp fire that burns without smoke.
The elderly woman’s prayer was mature and without insult. She did not cast the fallen hero out of the college girl.
Nobody spoke in tongues.
Nobody invoked holy ghost fire to burn down mweya yemadzinza.
The pastor observed the whole thing in subdued awe.
The first big woman looked sullen and kept her subscription from the song yenyasha.
The aspiring Member of Parliament sat with his head between his knees, determinedly not wanting to be part of the acquiescence to the war veteran demon.
It was 45 minutes to midnight.
That was how far the flock was from the top of the mountain.
The pastor remembered, with apprehension, the visions several among the flock had had about a group of armed men pamusorosoro pegomo of which, unbeknown to the flock, some of those spirits had already been stalking them and possessing the college girl.
He wondered how many more among the flock were already possessed without knowing it. How many more were not here by their conscious choice?
He was especially disturbed by the challenge: “Did you hear what I have just said? I said that we know who is fake and who is genuine. We know who is clean and who is unclean … Are there any questions or doubts?”
The pastor noticed that the girl had revived and was showing signs of confusion. The old guide was asking her ‘silly’ questions to ascertain if the spirit was still in the girl. The pastor found himself not liking the old guide even more.
Someone suggested that the girl could be escorted back to the minibus at the base of the mountain where they could collect her at the close of the retreat mangwanani.
The first big woman strongly supported the idea but others rejected it off-hand. The small woman who had thought that those who had paid the ultimate price for Zimbabwe’s independence could not be demons argued: “This sister came to seek help and you cannot turn her away. You cannot believe that no weapon fashioned against you shall prosper and yet run away from problems such as these.”
The majority of the flock concurred and the college girl thanked them.
To be continued…
