….We are not called to understand; we’re called to follow. But, walking with is higher than following.
Two days later, she was lounging in her apartment, trying to rest after her 24-hour shift when she heard the voice of the MMD calling out to her, “Major Lametu! Major Lametu! Come, walk with me!”
She froze at those words. The MMD rapped on her door and turned the knob and walked in. He was casually dressed in mufti and had a wooden expression. She was stretched on a cane chaise lounge whose foam had become flat with age. He looked down at her starring into her scarred ugly face, making her cringe with discomfort. She scrambled to her feet for he was a senior officer and she should not be caught in a position of disrespect before a superior officer.
“Are you not well?” he asked with some concern.
She saluted and mumbled, “No, I’m alright.”
“Then, come and take a walk with me!”
He walked through the doors towards the general direction of the orchard and she followed him dutifully, wondering what it was all about. The moon was full on a sky that spotted bright stars illuminating the paths, giving a false ambience to the senses about what time it was in Marewean history. They were not on any civil relationship. They hardly spoke to each other. She knew nothing about him except her suspicions – which were that he was disciplined and came across as a kind fellow although he was completely aloof; that was all. As they walked, he began to speak.
“I came from these parts,” he began with a faraway look in his eyes filled with pains of yesteryears. Lametu admired his back – straight and stiff. He was a good-looking man. She tried to picture him with a wife and some little brown children for Mareweans were mostly brown and very skinny people and the war situation had done nothing to help their stature.
“I’ve seen evil in my land, great evil. (He paused) I was a Christian just like you. (Another pause) I believed the Bible. (The emphasis on ‘believed’ told Lametu that he didn’t believe anymore) I once prayed and sang happy songs. My parents were elders in the church; my wife sang in the choir and my two little angels were in the children choir and acted in their school’s Dramatic Society. We were happy. When the unrest began, we Christians gathered together and called upon God. But the more we did, the worse things became. In fact, they got out of hand! Our lives were endangered and some who had opportunities fled to neighbouring lands. Some of us were patriotic; we stayed on to wrestle our land from the Mad Dog. We were sure that God would be on our side. (He paused again) We pursued Jospus; we went after him and his guerrillas. But some of our people fell to him for the times were hard and Jospus gave out food and false security and killed those who were not on his side.”
He stopped again, this time, for a long time. Lametu said nothing as they trod down the slab parts on the overgrown lawns towards the orchard. She refused to glance at his face knowing what she would find there. After a while, he continued.
“When Jospus took on the airwaves and began to tell us of the new discovery, the Da Vinci Code by one Mr Dan Brown, no one believed him; no one paid him any attention. To prove that Jesus wasn’t divine, he burnt churches, killed the priests and… and…” he stopped abruptly and faced Lametu, and in a deadly quiet voice said, “One day I went to my village where I had taken my family to stay with my parents and the whole village had been sacked – I saw the charred bodies of my loved ones – I don’t know what pains they bore.”
Lametu flinched inwardly. He stopped again. His voice had been terrible. Lametu refused to reach out to him, to comfort him. She allowed him to feel his pain; it was his pain, only he could deal with it. Inwardly, she prayed that the healing that had started within him with this opening up would be completed for she suspected that he had bottled them up for too long.
“That day, I lost my religion. I began to listen to Jospus. His words began to make some sense to me and I saw, to a lot of other Mareweans too. He told us about Jesus and His lady friend…”
Lametu stopped herself from saying that she had heard it before by some inhuman effort. She refused even to protest, to defend Jesus. She was a disciplined soldier; he was her superior. So, she let him talk especially, for the healing of his soul. And he talked as they resumed their walk.
“36 days ago, you joined us from Munsu. You began to speak publicly and proudly about Jesus Christ. You said the word of God is in power and not in fancy controversial words. You said that if anyone doubted the divinity of Jesus that all that the person had to do was to apply His name to a situation and see if it wouldn’t change. Secretly, I listened to you and slowly hope began to rise up within me. As a Marewean, I had fear and I had hate in my heart for Jospus. The spirit of fear had me in bondage. (He paused) I called you out for two reasons: one is to testify that after hearing you, I rebuked fear and cast him out in the name of Jesus and he’s gone from my life. I’m a free man, now. I’ve started reading my Bible once again. I have hope, that in Marawe, dry bones shall live again…”
He stopped abruptly again and Lametu began to think that that was his style, his manner of conversation. His expression was unreadable. And Lametu refused to be happy fast.
“Can I call you Lametu?” he asked. She nodded; not trusting her voice, grateful that they were by trees whose leaves dimmed the moonlight and shielded her expression. His voice became hoarser as he said, “Would you marry me? I want to live with you and for, and for Jesus.”
For the second time that day, Lametu was in shock. Good a thing he called her name before asking her, if not, she would have convinced herself that the question was for another. She was a true soldier, grim and austere with expression. She had stopped thinking of herself as a woman, desirable. She denied herself the fantasy of pleasure also, because she knew no man would desire her. Her face had gone. She knew that in man woman relationship, first, there must be physical attraction. She was not attractive anymore, not after the bullet scar. So, with unflinching calmness because she would not want anyone to get her entangled out of pity, she said, “I’m not beautiful. I have scars. Therefore, at 32, I’ve deleted marriage from my system.”
He said gently, “You have external scars, I have internal scars, ‘but God, your God, will make all of us beautiful in His time.’ Malik told me you said these words.”
“Now, you preach to me, sir!”
“Yes officer! Will you marry me? I’m willing to start all over again with you who believe so much.”
“Sir,” she said with some doubt, “I’ll ask the Lord…”
A voice said in her ears, “Say, yes, child and make haste and go back to the wards, a patient in ward 7 has praised down My glory. Go, quickly and help the people and behold My wonders!”
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she breathed.
She was suddenly filled with excitement – that kinetic energy surged within her and she told the MMD to go quickly with her back to the patients for God had exploded in His Almightiness in the wards.
The power of God was so much in ward 7; a thick cloud had filled the ward, moving into other wards from there.
In the last eighteen months, the sound of praises to God had not been heard in Laputo. It was a sound most pleasing to the ears as men, women, children lifted up their voices and sang! The patients sang; the doctors and nurses joined; some soldiers broke down and began to sing as they beheld His glory. The hospital was set on fire! Lametu ran from ward to ward encouraging them to sing more and make a joyful noise to their maker.
Soon, sirens were heard, men of the Fire Brigade arrived with their water hoses. They saw a fire, but there was no fire; it was the Holy Ghost fire! Before their eyes, people rose from the beds, completely healed! There were shouts of joy and loud screams as folks beheld the miraculous. Mutilated limbs grew out; eyes opened, decayed flesh was renewed and the healed rose to their feet, a mighty army! It was a site never seen before, not even in the movies! There was no sick left. There were dancing and rejoicing.
One caught Lametu on her chin and screamed, “Why officer, your face! Your face!”
Another dancing by and trying to engage Lametu in a tango, yelled, “My Jesus de Kristi, your face has come back to you and you’re beautiful, officer!”
Lametu ran to the Ladies. Yes, her face was smooth and beautiful. She burst into tears. Words travelled fast around the hospital. A figure appeared behind her in the mirror, it was Brigadier Yacobo Seko. The MMD hugged her from the back and wept with her. Lametu crumbled to the floor, not minding the dirty hospital floor and they wept and worshipped for a while. Seko was the first to recover and he pulled her to her feet and said, “God has made us all beautiful according to your word – the scars are gone – yes, all our scars!”
The commotion was heard everywhere. Laputo was ignited and an army arose from the hospital. From all over the world curious people began to troop in to see the wonders.
Few days later, Jospus the Mad Dog of Marawe came out of hiding with his guerrillas, their hands in the air. They surrendered to the UN Peace-keeping Force in Laputo according to the word of the Lord in Isaiah 31:8-9 pronounced by Major Lametu Nguchi.
“The Assyrian shall fall by the sword, not of a mighty man or a mean man; but he shall fall by his own sword and his young men shall be discomfited…they shall be afraid of the sign says the Lord whose fire is in Zion and His furnace in Jerusalem!”
.Concluded
