BORN TAO: How madam preacher was kicked out of Zion

“Repent! Repent, jehanamu sio swimming pool,” that was the thunder-bolt voice of an elderly woman preaching to the lost sheep.

She preached the Word of God with fear, and her description of hell was similar to a horror movie. We kept silent and gave her space and time to proclaim the word as any interruption was met with immediate condemnation on how one would burn in hell.

This was not your ordinary Sunday service, but a sermon on the Embakasi-bound train that we commonly referred to as ‘Zion’, coined from Bob Marley’s song “Zion Train”.

SAVINGS

It was an ordinary evening and on the train ride home, and I had invited Solo, my Sunday school buddy, to enjoy the benefits of the 'Zion' ride – it saved us a lot of money every day.

Back then, the train fare from Embakasi to the CBD was Sh15, while matatus charged Sh60. The equation was simple: our parents would give us with Sh200 daily inclusive of fare and lunch. And after paying our fare and using only Sh40 for lunch, the rest of the money would be used to woo the beautiful girls in college.

With such a lucrative venture, Solo was happy to board Zion – and said he would continue doing so for the rest of his college days. But what I didn’t tell him on his first ride was that the coach, which always had many young people, was often a temporary church to miss preacher when she had finished preaching in her ‘church coach’. Before the preacher came, most of the college students talked and listened to music on loud speaker from a phone.

This time Babby Msoo had some new hip-hop mixes and he was eager to let us sample some Tupac Shakur.

“Wasee Leo mtatambua Tupac alikuwa mnoma kuliko Notorious B.I.G (Today you will discover just how much greater an artiste Tupac was compared to B.I.G),” he announced, turning on his mobile phone stereo. The girls giggled and Solo smiled. I could tell he loved the vibe and the energy that was starting to build.

Babby loved hip-hop. And even though he was enrolled in a catering course, his dream was to become a Dj. He usually thrilled us with stories about his visit to America when he was a child. His dress code was iconic – he wore a silver stud on his right ear, buggy shirts and faded jeans sagged loosely below his waist line. Unlike the rest of us who were saving on fare to treat girls, Babby was saving to buy a new set of DJ decks.

GOING TO ZION

The train roared to life making its way towards Muthurwa bellowing grey smoke into the horizon as the sun gently set. Since our coach didn’t have seats, we made full use of the space by break dancing while Babby was singing along to Tupac songs. We enjoyed it.

“Shidwe! Shidwe! Nyimbo za shetani ndio zinachezwa hapa?” Miss preacher appeared like an apparition from the neighbouring coach.

“Buda, kwani huyu mathee alikuwa area?” Babby whispered to me. I shook my head in agreement.

“Neno lina sema hizi ndizo siku za mwisho, ziwa la moto linapepetwa,” she began as she placed her handbag on the floor.

Rumour had it that she once worked at Nyayo House. I wonder whether I was the only one who suspected that she served there during the Nyayo torture chambers era…Her message of hell and pain was more than meets the eye.

The coach was dead silent with a distant echo of Tupac rap, as Babby had not switched off the music. She moved swiftly towards him, sized him up from head to toe and spit on the floor in disgust. 

“Hii mavazi ya ulaya ndio suti ya jehanamu,” She shouted.

Without hesitation Babby switched off his phone.

Solo made the mistake of laughing aloud madam preacher turned towards him, changing the summon periodically to suit those who mocked her.

“Na wewe pia ujue pale jehanamu ni kilio sio kicheko,” she said.

When the train made a stopover at Donholm, everyone in the coach moved to another one, leaving her alone.

But she boldly followed her ‘congregation’ into the new coach.

But as she was preaching, an old man shouted: “Wewe mama toa kelele yako hapa.” Other passengers then began telling her to keep quiet or leave the coach, with some using unkind words.

She went back to her ‘church coach’ where we could hear her ‘congregation’ sing loudly.

That was the last time she attempted to preach in any other coach apart from her usual one. And that was also the last time I saw Babby Msoo on Zion Train.