It was early June when Moses listened to Josephat for the first time in his life. He had seen him in the village a few times over the years, and had heard people talk about this strange wandering prophet, but he had never taken the time to actually listen to the man when he was younger. Josephat would just appear in a village in the morning, after having slept out in the open or on a doorstep from sometime in the middle of the night. He would stay for a few days, and then disappear as he had appeared, without warning, sometime during the night. Josephat walked wherever he went over the Kenyan interior, wearing a black felt hat and a robe-like covering made of rabbit skins. In his right hand was a beautifully carved walking stick, which, like the robe, was his own creation. No one knew exactly where the hat came from, but it added to the overall look of eccentricity.
People in the village listened to Josephat politely as he sat on the steps of the post office quietly sharing his message; but they were not about to join him in his strange lifestyle.
Western Kenya was mostly divided between Catholics, Quakers, and various Pentecostal and traditional sects. The Protestants took Josephat more seriously than the Catholics, but Catholics listened too. Moses didn't go to any church, but he was intrigued by Josephat's strange dress, and by things he had heard. It was midday and one of the busiest times for bodaboda drivers, but Moses left the stand and wheeled his bike over closer to the crowd, so he could pick up on what was being said.
"God's going to destroy those that destroys the earth," Josephat was saying quietly. He didn't shout like so many of the street preachers who frequented the village. He spoke quietly, and the people listened patiently, occasionally interjecting or asking a question.
"I think it's close now," he went on. "You can't trust the churches no more; the government is full-on corrupt; and the people are all sinning bad as ever. It's bad times. Won't be long till he destroys those that destroys the earth, like he sade in The Revelation."
"People been saying that for a long time, Josephat," said Obadiah, the postmaster, who had come out from behind the counter to listen; no one could get in or out of the post office anyway, not while Josephat was there. Obadiah was a respected elder in the Upendo Congregation of the Faithful, Church of the Holy Spirit, and a regular listener to Josephat's pronouncements. "I'm not saying you're wrong, brother, but I been hearing that for must be 20 years now."
"So we're 20 years closer now than we was when you first heard it," Josephat replied with a smile, and the crowd supported him, some because they could see the humour in what he was saying, and some because they could see the truth. Josephat himself had only been preaching in those parts for the past 10 or 12 years.
"We hafta be ready, brothers and sisters. We hafta be ready," he said to the crowd.
"And how do you think we can do that?" asked Obadiah.
"You hafta learn how to listen to the voice of the Spirit. Not your churches and your leaders, and not your own natural thinking. Just listen to the Spirit...
honest and humble-like."
"And what if we can't hear no voices like you?" someone from the crowd interjected.
"You can hear," Josephat argued. "Not like I'm talking right now, you can't, but in your heart. You just have to be still enough and be real quiet in your spirit.
Push away all your own thinking and your doubts, and you'll hear God talking...
same as in your conscience."
"And what's he goin' ta say?" the same voice asked with a clear touch of cynicism.
"Different things to different peoples," Josephat answered, straight-faced.
"But I know he'll say ni lazima about getting ready."
"Ready for what, Josephat?" This question, from Obadiah, was expressed more sympathetically.
"Ready for the troubles. They's going to be troubles. Worst troubles in the history of everything. I can't say what you need to do, cuz some of it's secrets, just for the dearly beloved. You hafta ask Him if you want to find out. But real soon now, he's goin' ta destroy them that's destroying the world. That's what he told me."
Moses couldn't see much difference in what Josephat was saying and what he had heard other locals say... especially the Pentecostals. Jesus coming back.
End of the world. It didn't seem to make much difference in the way they lived, though. So what was the point?
Of course it did make a difference to Josephat, and that was probably why people listened so intently to him when he came through. He would turn up in the village maybe once or twice a year, sometimes carrying a plastic container of honey, or at some other time carrying bowls which he had carved from local wood. He never sold his stuff, just gave it to different people. But others gave him things that he needed too... maize mostly. It could have been how he got the felt hat that had become one more item in his overall image. He would only ever stay long enough to preach for a few days like he was doing now before moving on.
That night when Moses arrived at Amy's, she offered him some honey with his tea.
"Where'd you get that, Winky?" he asked gruffly.
"A friend gave it to me," she said with a smile.
"You mean that old preacher man with the walking stick, don't you?" Moses stated. "I didn't know he was your friend." He was definitely not impressed.
"Has been for a couple of years," Amy answered.
"So you believe the stuff he saze?"
"Depends on what stuff," answered Amy.
"End of the world stuff," said the youngster.
"I do and I don't," she answered cryptically. "It's more spiritual for me... being ready to die... doing what God wants. Stuff like that."
Something strange was happening. Moses didn't think of Amy as a mother.
She had her family, and there wasn't time for her to be more than a friend to him.
So he didn't feel jealous about the time she gave to the other children. But something about her having this friendship with Josephat bothered him. Why hadn't Winky ever said anything to him before, about Josephat being her friend?
And what business did he have with her in the first place? A bit of honey didn't give him the right to mess with her head if, in fact, that was what he was doing.
All of this was going through Moses' mind in a way that clashed with his normally clear thinking. He could see that he was reacting strangely, but he still believed the problem lay with Josephat and not with himself. Josephat wasn't just messing with Winky's mind; he was messing with his too. And Moses didn't like it.
"Son, Josephat is doing the best he knows to serve his God, same as you trying hard to care for Rosy," Amy explained. "We each have our jobs to do, and the Good Lord has the final word on us all."
"Yeah, sure," Moses said, looking uncharacteristically glum. But not for long.
He just didn't have the disposition to stay upset for long.
"Anyway, let's count the money," he said, bouncing back in that incurably optimistic way of his. "Me, I got a couple of big fares this afternoon. I wanna see if it evenates for what I missed at lunch time."