UNWORTHY(Melody Kuku) She lay on the street, ready to die. Her lips were dried and cracked with unquenched thirst. She held the baby close to her, covering its head with the edge of her wrapper as the sun was scorching and hotter than it had ever been. Her back lay against the wall that was the fence of The Christ Saving Church.

Her Feet were sore from the wandering, they ached now. She tried to ignore the pain, listening instead to the weary heart beat of the baby clutching at her breasts. It had ceased to cry. A few minutes ago, she had allowed it to suck on the dry breast, but not even dried lumps of clotted milk fell into the eager mouth of the infant.

As if understanding the situation, the baby withdrew its lips, closed its eyes and pretended to fall asleep. Every now and then it would open its eyes and stare at her as if to say; "Mother, tell me, when shall we die and this maddening hunger cease?"

In reply, she would stroke its tangled jet black hair and let a half broken smile spread across her face. She couldn't cry anymore as even tears had become precious liquid.

"What nonsense! A mad woman in my church premises?" the Bishop's voice thundered.

"She isn't mad Sir, she is homeless", his PA replied.

"Mad or homeless, I'll have none of it. Off you go woman. This is the house of God not an orphanage or a charity home", He said to the startled woman who gathered her baby in her arms and rose.

"Where should I go?" the destitute asked.

Her voice was soft and almost melodious. It was devoid of the harshness pain brings to a sufferer's voice.

"Anywhere except the house of God,'' he replied.

His words sounded ridiculous even to him but he didn't stop to ponder it. After all, Jesus flogged and threw out of the Temple people who were trying to make money in the house of God. He was only doing the same. The sight of her would discourage sinners from receiving salvation in his church and he wanted none of that.

The woman nodded and began to walk down the street that seemed to stretch endlessly.



* * * * * *

"I'm all ears prophetess. Tell me what the Lord has for me", the Bishop said as he settled himself comfortably in his cozy armchair.

"You had a dream didn't you? Jesus told you that He would visit you", Prophetess Sade began.

He smiled.

"Yes, yes. In fact, I have been praying and fasting ever since", he replied.

Prophetess Sade sighed then continued.

"Well, He did visit you but through a human being like you and I. He sent his daughter and her child your way".

The Bishop sat up.

"No, no Prophetess Sade. Since the revelation of His visitation came, I have been extra careful. I have fasted and eagerly waited for the Lord. Also, I have met no stranger that acted as a representative of the Lord".

The Prophetess stared at him. He wriggled uncomfortably under gaze. Even though she was a prophetess, he was a Bishop and renewed at that. How dare not lower her gaze.

The Prophetess sighed and removed her glasses to wipe the beads of sweat forming on her face.

"Bishop, think again. You met someone from the Lord and you turned the person away".

The Bishop frowned.

"You must be mistaken, I never…", he stopped to think then looked at her in alarm.

"Could it be that…"

"Yes, it is what you think, the beggar like woman you sent out of the church was sent to you by God as a test. God wanted to test your readiness to meet with him and experience great miracles.

The Bishop shook his head as the picture began to form in his head.

" The Lord revealed it to me. You told her that she and her baby have no place in the Lord's house. The bible says; He was hungry but you fed him not. He was in need of shelter but you turned him away. Bishop, doing it to a child of God means you did it to God".

His head felt like it would explode. He held his head in his hands before sinking to his knees. The rug in his office no longer felt like warm furs; it felt like thorns.

"I didn't know, I didn't mean to do that. I just had a quarrel with my wife before getting to the church. You see, I was in a very bad mood. I wouldn't have done that on a normal day", he stammered.

"God is angry with you and he's going to punish greatly except you look for her and do to her what you would do if it were the Lord", the Prophetess said as she picked her handbag and stepped out of the room.




* * * * *

He sat down on a pavement by the road side. He had searched everywhere but couldn't find her.

Then, for the first time, he noticed the crowd that gathered a little distance from where he sat. They were gathered around something that seemed to draw exclamations of pity and sorrow from each person.

Curious, he pushed his way through the crowd. There she was, covered in blood. She was dead, dead. Her arms were wound tightly around her baby's head, as if to protect its skull. It was dead too.

"No, you can't die! Oh, God! WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?" he asked, half shouting at everyone.

"She was trying to cross the road when a speeding vehicle ran into them. She had noticed it just in time to shield her baby with her arms. I saw it from where I sat, in front of my shop. Pastor, do you know her?" The ruddy man in green black shorts and T-shirt who stood beside him asked.

"No, not really. Excuse me, Bishop said as he walked away, ignoring the stares that followed his back. He suddenly felt dizzy. He buried his head on his steering as soon as he climbed into his Range Rover.

"For even as you do good unto these ones, it is as if you doeth it unto me", a still small voice whispered to him.

It sounded so close and he jerked his head up and turned to see if he was alone in the car. He was. As alone as a man who wanders away from God with empty hands is.

He took off his white collar as the tears flowed unashamedly down his sad, sad face.

THE END

---