PASTOR DAGITARI KIHARA MWANGI – THE NIGHT GOD SAVED MY THUTHA(ass)

PASTOR DAGITARI KIHARA MWANGI – THE NIGHT GOD SAVED MY THUTHA (@SS)

After my taxi business drank water 💦, I returned to what I learned in college — Ms Word.

One hot afternoon, I was just cooling my bells in the office, broke like a deflated tyre, wondering where to remove money ya matubo (food).

A phone call came from a factory in Mang’u. Their machines were misbehaving in Ms Word. They wanted me to go treat them asap.

After agreeing on charges, I called PM (my wife) and told her:

> “PM, today abuse the shopkeeper, mama mboga, and landlord. Tell them we will never sing problems again for a month! Abuse them piu piu! because their money was staying.”

I took a matatu to Thika, another to Mang’u, then walked for an hour to the factory — mind you, bodabodas (public motorbikes) had not yet been invented.

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The job itself was small — 20 minutes max — but I stretched it for 2 hours. Installing, uninstalling, typing DOS commands like I was fixing NASA.

When I finished, instead of cash, they gave me a cheque.

Between me and poverty stood 400 bob — just enough for fare to Nairobi.

I called PM again:

> “Ume-abuse vile nilikuambia?” (Did you abuse them like I said?)

“Yes,” she said.

“Un-abuse immediately!” I told her. “The cheque will mature after four working days!”

By then, even same banks didn’t know instant clearance. Four days had to finish.

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Darkness had already entered. I walked about 4km to a small centre where matatus passed.

Two suspicious characters appeared — men who looked like they had just escaped from Kamiti (prison).

They asked, “Boss, unangoja matatu?”

I told them, “Nope. I’m waiting for my uncle.”

They moved away whispering. My head told me they were discussing how to climb me. The only confusion was who would start climbing and who would cut me after.

That area was famous — if a car spoiled there with a beautiful lady, they’d look away like they saw a ghost. But a man? They’d high five each other and say, “Down trouser!” 😭

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After waiting for an hour, I walked to a nearby shop and asked,

> “Matatus bado hupita saa hii?” (Do public transport still pass now?)

The shopkeeper held his chin and said,

> “After 7, it’s easier for a Karumaindo lady to give you tiita (free something) for one week than a matatu to pass here.”

He told me the only place I could get rooms or lucky mats was Kamurugu, a few kilometres ahead.

Immediately, the story of the four lepers in 2 Kings 7:4 came to my mind.

They said, “If we stay, we die; if we go back, we die; if we move forward, maybe we live.”

I decided I’m going forward!

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I walked unmeasurable distance until I reached Kamurugu. The place was alive small — not like Sodom where I came from.

Three men were waiting for a matatu. They didn’t look like Kamiti (prison) escapees, but they also didn’t look like choir members.

After a while, one said,

> “Let’s take a taxi together, 500 each.”

I looked at my 400 bob and almost performed a miracle. I rejected.

Then a light appeared from far. A car was coming. Someone shouted,

> “Ni Njuguna rugamaa!” (It’s Njuguna, stop!)

The car stopped. They ran — I ran faster! When the back door opened, I was the first to enter.

We squeezed — five at the back, two in front.

One said,

> “Njuguna, ona pastor ndugatige!” (Don’t leave the pastor!)

I realized they thought my small bag was a Bible. I thanked God for that bag.

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Inside the car, they started talking about Mugweru, who almost got them beaten and once “left the machine in the field.”

My spirit told me — these are robbers.

I started my last prayer quietly:

> “Father in heaven, forgive me all my sins before Flying Squad turns this car into a sieve.”

Before I finished becoming born again, the car stopped at a Thika bar — one of those wazee joints.

They said, “Pastor, no mat now. Let’s eat njaro (supper) till 3AM when shamba mats start.”

We entered. They ordered dogogio (alcohol).

The waiter asked, “Na wewe pastor, unakunywa nini?” (Pastor, what will you drink?)

I shouted, “Nipee white cup baridi!” (Give me a cold white cup!)

The whole bar went silent. Then laughter exploded!

> “Waaa, pastor anasema anakunywa moja? Muuzie pastor piu piu!” (Waa, pastor says he drinks? Serve him quick quick!)

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Within two hours, I had drank five white cups. Everyone was drunk, even the demons were dizzy.

One man shouted,

> “Pastor tuhunjirie! (Preach to us!) Tuokoke kutokana na dhambi!”

I stood on the table and said,

> “Andu oothe me guku (All of you here), listen to this messenger!

Ibuku ria Ngai (Book of God), Deuteronomy 23:1 — whoever’s bells are crashed or josto(p£nis) cut off will not see heaven! Hareruya!”

They all shouted, “Wa iguru!” (God in heaven!)

Then I flipped again:

> “Deuteronomy 25:11 — if a woman catches your bells during a fight, that hand must be cut off!”

The bar roared like a stadium. Dogogio (alcohol )flowed. They promised to join my church as lifetime members.

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When morning reached, they dropped me at the stage, paid my fare, and waved goodbye.

So if you ever see me walking with swag on River Road, just know...

> Dogogio ningagura wokaa na pipo igiri!

(will buy alcohol when you come with two ladies!)

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I am

Pastor Dagitari Kihara Mwangi

Snr. Gyno, River Road Inc.

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💡 Moral: Sometimes, God saves you through drunk robbers, white cups, and Bible verses you didn’t even know existed.