"Engrave It into me! Engrave it into the fields! Engrave it into our homes! Engrave it into our culture! Engrave it into our love! Engrave it into our souls! Engrave it into our hearts for tomorrow is better than today. Because our tomorrow is better than our today. I want to hear you cry it out!"
"Our tomorrow is better than today!" The congregation shouted in unison. They then proceeded to break into song and dance. It was cold outside, December had rolled around and we needed something to warm our spirits for the holiday.
In the night and the harvest moon festival had just ended, now all that was left was to enjoy the feast of our labor. A delicious banquet of finger licking foods. Fried pork and ham roasts, a pan of rice and chicken seasoned with exotic spices. Booze and alcohol for all to drink, whether you were of age or not.
Meanwhile I just sat in the back, torn clothes, dry skin. Long curly hair. In my entire community I actually had lighter skin, so much so that the kids in my neighborhood would call me 'Mzungu' which is just slang for white people. I just sat there, not knowing what this was all about. Why the pastor called us here when we had crops to tend to, why he called us here to feast on food that wasn't ours.
I didn't know a lot of things at the time, like how I would get beaten the very next day. Woken from the sleep I rarely got with a kick to my stomach. Priests from the sacred cathedral were sent to the farm. Apparently our pastor was preaching falsehoods to an unauthorized congregation. False teachings to false disciples.
"Who's your God?" One of the priests asked us after we received a server beating.
"Tell me, who is it?" He wasn't angry or anything, in fact he seemed ecstatic to be beating us up. The grown ups were taken to a local church, meanwhile we were tied to each other by long and itchy ropes that were thicker than steel.
"Who were you worshipping? The messiah doesn't listen to prayers coming from the sinful. Isn't that why you're here? Because you've sinned."
"But doesn't God forgive the sinful." A little boy in asked. I forgot his name, but he was shorter than any of us there, his skin was charcoal black and he could barely pronounce words correctly, especially in English.
"No, not to sinners like you. You're all going to fucking burn in hell, like you bullshit parents." He mocked, saliva from his tongue was now hovering everywhere. Colliding with face , and some in my eyes.
"The only thing you're good for is the fields." He insisted we try and remain calm, struggling would only lead to death.
"And I don't want that, you don't want that, let's all try to be happy, ok?"
We didn't respond.
"OK!!!!!!" He shouted, and his shouts came with punches. To the face, to the stomach to the back. He even order us to be splashed with water, then wiped.
The next day we were allowed to see the grown ups… dead, all dead. Burnt on the stake.
I don't remember much from that day, I can't remember what happened even after that honestly. I can barely remember the other children's faces. All I remember was mumbling to myself, tomorrow will be better.
JANUARY 20TH COMET YEAR 4999
The new year had finally began. That meant more supplies and goods were needed. Loliwe was a small island city just west to the Land of the east sun. It consisted of many scattered islands that was home to the dwindling population of the Kenyan people.
People with skin colour comparable to that of potash, or suet. A people with a culture of their own, a mind set of their own… Until a few years ago, when the freedom of speech was impaired by people who's skins glew like the embers of the sun.
They arrived one day on the beach. White robes with emblems new to the people. They were sketchy at first, but the more they got know about each other the better they appeared, so of course the chiefs at the time agreed to a collaboration.
And so they began spreading the word of the Evangelist. A being they said stood at left hand side of God's thrown, and Jesus on the right.
At first their was resistance as people refused to change from what they knew, but all they needed was a 'nudge' in the right direction, just a little push-push. If a few women died because they didn't listen, ok. They would have to change their customs a bit… just a bit of course.
Just a small nudge.
"AHHHH, AHHH!"
Moaning could be heard coming from the Bishop's tower. At the central most island there was a small fishing village, now the capital of the protectorate. At the center of the village was one of ten cathedrals scattered through the other islands.
The door slowly opened to his chambers.
"Keep moving, I'm almost there!" The bishop moaned. On his lap was a black girl. Judging by her body size no older than 15.
The 40 year old bishop grabbed her exposed breasts, rubbing her nipples like like radio knobs.
"Sir, not inside please!" She yelled.
"That's your holiness, say your holiness please mess up my insides."
"But…But."
"No buts, you want your family to eat two meals a day, don't you?"
She hesitated for a bit, "Your holiness, mess up my insides." She moaned, "I'll take all all your children!"
"Yes, yes, that's better."
KNOCK!
"Ahhhh!"
A boy walked in just as the old man finished. He had master the timing, knowing just exactly when the old man finished.
"Gil." The bishop grabbed the girls ass. "Want some?"
"No sir." He said, "I'll pass."
The bishop kissed her on the neck. "You may go, but don't forget our next scheduled meeting."
The girl got up, on a chair was her clothes. She took them in hand and began to make her way to the door. Bowing her head as she passed Gil.
"What is it you want to discuss?" The bishop rolled back in his bead. He was a relatively young looking man with white hair and a strong physique.
"You have a morning sermon today." Gil's voice was low and his frame was slender, but he ate well, here at the church. He got all the nutrients a teenager needed to grow, and plenty of sleep.
"Not today. Push it to tomorrow."
"But sir, you said that yesterday."
"Your holiness, your holiness. Call me your holiness, and I said push it to tomorrow!" The bishop yelled as he turned to sleep.
"When's my next appointment?" Is what he asked.
"Just after lunch." Gil looked at his schedule, "Exactly after lunch."
"Who is it?"
"The fishing family along the north."
"Oh, the north." The bishop smiled, "They have some very beautiful looking young girls."
"Actually sir, she just turned 18 and would like a prayer for…"
"Ah, stop right there. What have I told you Gil. I don't pray for girls over 16, they are old enough to pray by themselves."
"Yes si… I mean your holiness. I'll inform them right away."
"Good, now if you excuse me." He said, "I need to take a nap."
"Ok."
Gil slowly backed up and closed the door. The central cathedral was a holy ground established by one of the 'good bishops.' Quite some time ago. Although Gil found it here when he was sold around four years ago. Since then he attended Christian school in one of the many orphanages.
After some time his talents were noticed by one of the only black people teaching at the school. Because his skin was a bit lighter, he had no trouble fitting in the church as an alter boy. Luckily for him the priests here seemed to only be into women. So he was safe.
For a time of course. At some point he wouldn't be able to sleep soundly at night. He had his own room, which was better, but if one of the pastors decided they would want to pay him a visit one night… no one would here him scream.
Somehow luck seemed to always be on his side. He wasn't the active type, he never went out of his way to seek out validation or anything. He never talked to people unless necessary, all he ever did was dive nose first into a book. Any book really, even the ones that spoke different tongues.
He was a leaf in a raging current, and as such decided to go with the flow. What happened along the way was God's choice, there was nothing he could do about it.
He walked down the steps, bowing before some priests along the way. The cathedral air was heavy, like dumbbells. Pressing against his cheeks threatening to crush him. Gil didn't know what it was all about, but perhaps it was everybody's gilt pressing on him.
He got down to the altar. Had himself a little prayer section.
"May we have a blessed day, Amen." He prayed for all his comrades and the people he'd been back on the fields. He wished them good tidings a good year.
"Gil."
He turned. A woman with white hair and a wrinkled face. She was a nun for a local orphanage, a nice old lady, probably the only one.
"I hope your prayers are just as wish full as you are." She had a cane that she used to see, her eye sight was poor, but still there.
"Of course sister Anne, I pray for you and the orphans every single day." Gil responded as he took a bow.
"Good, I was afraid you weren't alright since you don't come for prayer days anymore."
"Well, this and that, here and there." Gil fumbled, "Lots of responsibilities piling up."
"Not an excuse." She said firmly, "Always put God first, after all he'll be the only one truly there for you."
"Um sister Anne."
"At the end of the day it is not man we should put our faith in, but rather the lord himself to guide us through the trials and tribulations of this world."
"Sister Anne."
"Yes deary?"
"You're talking to a wall, I'm over this way." Gil waved his hand."
"Oh dear, I'm sorry. My eyes aren't what they used to be."
"It's ok, I'll do my best to help anyone I can."
"Oh ok, I best begin my prayers." The woman slowly walked across the hall and sat on one of the seats, when she felt cozy enough, she took a bow.
Gil looked at the clock hanging on the wall. "Oh, I need to head over to the orphanage."
With the bishop not doing his job, Gil had to go cover for him.
"I best be on my way."
OFF TO SPREAD THE GOOD NEWS!
TO BE CONTINUED