Muli Vasilu Sana

This is what we should do. We should grab guns and pangas and any other lethal weapon we can lay our hands on, hunt down those we are disappointed in and kill them in cold blood. Yes, because we are angry and our anger can only be eased if the people we are angry at are no longer breathing. That’s the only logical thing to do. That’s what our ancestors, when they meet for evening porridge under a huge tree, recommend we should do. That’s what God in heaven would want us to do. I reckon God wakes up every morning shaking His head, disappointed that a few mad people keep asking Him to give them the strength to forgive those who have wronged them when it’s easier and wiser to just kill them.

It really gets His goat, this nagging prayer from His flock. He angrily kicks a tin of water resting at the foot of his bed as He storms out of his room, shouting archangel Michael’s name.

“Where is this Goddamn Angel? Michael! Michael!”

Michael comes out of his hut, tightening his belt. “Everything okay, God?”

“I want you to deliver a message to those idiots calling my name, sijui asking for strength and wisdom to forgive those who have wronged them.”

“Why can’t Angel Gabriel do it? He’s the one in charge of delivering your messages.”

“I need you for this message.”

“Why?”

“Because I need it delivered with authority and who better to deliver it with authority than the man who sent Lucifer and his battalion of rebel angels out of this place?”

“Fair enough. What’s the message?”

“Tell them to sort out their differences by killing each other and not calling my name. I am battling insomnia here and I can’t win this battle if I can’t shut my eyes without someone calling my name.”

“But God, isn’t that extreme?”

“Do as I ask. And who the hell put a rusty tin of water in my bedroom?”

Yeah, that’s what happens in heaven, if what the pro murderers are saying is anything to go by. A man shoots dead his wife and all you read from people is, but he paid her school fees! How could she cheat on him? Mmmh? How could she not love him no matter what? If you ask me, she deserved it. In fact, that man should have reloaded his gun and emptied the bullets on her dead body!

You read these comments and wonder if people have lost their minds. You wonder at what point does a man, or woman, start defending murderers. You wonder if they sleep better at night because they spent a better part of the day furiously typing long comments, defending a man who took a life. You wonder if at the end of the day their equilibrium is well balanced. They make no sense in their arguments, but somehow believe whatever they are spewing are nothing but nuggets of wisdom.

Then we have the pretenders. They say, “What the man did was bad, terribly bad, but…” then they go ahead to defend the murderer anyway. I am not sure how the word BUT even comes to mind.

Here’s the thing. I have said it before and will say it again, just in case you last cleaned your ears in 1963 BC and you are now suffering from a hearing problem. There’s nothing you’ll do for someone that will make them owe you their life. Your wife’s life isn’t yours to take, even if you educated her entire family only for her to fall out of love with you. If they don’t love you anymore, they don’t love you. Count your losses. And if you are among those who can’t count their losses, don’t spend your money on anyone. Use it instead to buy brains.

There’s no justification for murder. It doesn’t matter if you visited your witch doctor and asked them to extract half your ribs and make you your better half, if this your better half later decides she doesn’t want you, that’s it. You can go back to the witch doctor and demand that he extracts some more ribs. Because we all owe someone something. We are all beneficiaries of some favour that we are yet to pay back. And may never pay back. Yet our lives remain sacred and we don’t expect anyone to kill us.

And you know what? If you support gender violence, you’ll always find a reason to defend the perpetrators. Any reason will be enough for you. If something is wrong it’s wrong. You can paint it white and clothe it in a bishop’s robe but it will still be wrong. And it should be called out as so.

I know you do not know me as an activist. And so you might be tempted to remind me that activism is not why you followed me in the first place. Please save your thoughts, because I can assure you I don’t need it. In 2017, when the police were killing innocent demonstrators, I shared a blog post condemning these killings and one of my readers, who obviously supported Jubilee, came to my inbox with a long message telling me to keep off politics otherwise she would unfriend me and not read my posts anymore.

Because my writing career would die if she didn’t read me. I would grow old as one poor and frustrated writer if she didn’t read me. And then one day, with grey hair and bony elbows, I would retire to my bed made of bamboo trees and not wake up again, and it would be a few weeks before my body is found because other than being old and poor, I would also be lonely. All because this reader decided she won’t read me anymore.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is horse shit.

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4 thoughts on “Muli Vasilu Sana

  1. Chebs

    ……..”our wife’s life isn’t yours to take, even if you educated her entire family only for her to fall out of love with you.”
    Nice read Brian, Keep up the good work

  2. Nyarinda

    Si this title just summarises the whole post.

  3. Marren B

    “It really gets His goat, this nagging prayer from His flock…..” nice one 🙂 No chills eh? It is what it is.

  4. Judy

    I don’t know why but (yes, it did cross my mind) this piece reminds me of the country song the older I get by Allan Jackson.

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