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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Character Based
- Published: 06/06/2024
The Little Tale of a Sot
Born 1990, M, from Blantyre, MalawiThe Little Tale Of a Sot
By Mike Kaupembe
My name is Jameson Phiri, but many know me as "Chiledzerere" - a nickname that often precedes my reputation as a heavy drinker. But I'm not here to share jokes or amusing stories. Instead, I want to tell you a sorrowful tale of how my life took a drastic turn.
It's a story I've never shared before, but one that has haunted me for ages . It began in November 1998, a rainy season that brought new life to our backyard. I had just fired our garden boy due to rumors of his involvement with my stepdaughter. The memory of that day still lingers, like a ghost haunting me.
On that fateful Friday evening, I picked up my wife Judith from work on my company car, Toyota Hilux double cabin. We returned home, and I was struck by her beauty as she stepped out of the car. Her smile was radiant, and her eyes sparkled with a warmth that only she possessed. We entered our mansion, and I couldn't help but admire her as we made our way to the bedroom.
As we prepared for a cold shower, my wife's phone rang. I ignored it initially, thinking it was just a routine call. But my curiosity got the better of me. The message was from a contact named "Sweet Banana" - a name that piqued my interest. What I saw next left me paralyzed.
Nude pictures of my wife and our church's Prophet Mfuti, also known as "Sweet Banana", flooded my vision. That moment changed my life forever. I felt like I had been punched in the gut, my breath knocked out of me. The room spun around me, and I stumbled backwards, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
The images were explicit, leaving no doubt about the nature of their relationship. My mind raced with questions and emotions, from anger and betrayal to shock and disbelief. How could my wife, my beautiful Judith, do this to me? And with a man of God, no less?
That moment marked the beginning of my downfall. My life spiralled out of control, and I became the "Chiledzerere" that everyone knows today - a shadow of my former self, drowning in alcohol and sorrow.
I've been in a coma for seven years now, but the memory of that fateful day remains vivid. It's a reminder that life can change in an instant, and sometimes the truth can be more devastating than fiction.
Many men of God have tried to convince me to join them, but I simply can't afford to trust anyone anymore.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened," the prophet's voice echoed, "and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
I listened intently as one popular man of God in town recited the familiar passage, his words dripping with conviction. But as he finished, I couldn't help but respond with a mix of skepticism and defiance.
"I'd rather spend eternity in hell," I said bluntly, "than be trapped in a fake heaven peddled by false prophets like you."
My words hung in the air, a challenge to the prophet's authority and a reflection of my own disillusionment with the faith.
The Little Tale of a Sot(Mike Kaupembe)
The Little Tale Of a Sot
By Mike Kaupembe
My name is Jameson Phiri, but many know me as "Chiledzerere" - a nickname that often precedes my reputation as a heavy drinker. But I'm not here to share jokes or amusing stories. Instead, I want to tell you a sorrowful tale of how my life took a drastic turn.
It's a story I've never shared before, but one that has haunted me for ages . It began in November 1998, a rainy season that brought new life to our backyard. I had just fired our garden boy due to rumors of his involvement with my stepdaughter. The memory of that day still lingers, like a ghost haunting me.
On that fateful Friday evening, I picked up my wife Judith from work on my company car, Toyota Hilux double cabin. We returned home, and I was struck by her beauty as she stepped out of the car. Her smile was radiant, and her eyes sparkled with a warmth that only she possessed. We entered our mansion, and I couldn't help but admire her as we made our way to the bedroom.
As we prepared for a cold shower, my wife's phone rang. I ignored it initially, thinking it was just a routine call. But my curiosity got the better of me. The message was from a contact named "Sweet Banana" - a name that piqued my interest. What I saw next left me paralyzed.
Nude pictures of my wife and our church's Prophet Mfuti, also known as "Sweet Banana", flooded my vision. That moment changed my life forever. I felt like I had been punched in the gut, my breath knocked out of me. The room spun around me, and I stumbled backwards, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
The images were explicit, leaving no doubt about the nature of their relationship. My mind raced with questions and emotions, from anger and betrayal to shock and disbelief. How could my wife, my beautiful Judith, do this to me? And with a man of God, no less?
That moment marked the beginning of my downfall. My life spiralled out of control, and I became the "Chiledzerere" that everyone knows today - a shadow of my former self, drowning in alcohol and sorrow.
I've been in a coma for seven years now, but the memory of that fateful day remains vivid. It's a reminder that life can change in an instant, and sometimes the truth can be more devastating than fiction.
Many men of God have tried to convince me to join them, but I simply can't afford to trust anyone anymore.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened," the prophet's voice echoed, "and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
I listened intently as one popular man of God in town recited the familiar passage, his words dripping with conviction. But as he finished, I couldn't help but respond with a mix of skepticism and defiance.
"I'd rather spend eternity in hell," I said bluntly, "than be trapped in a fake heaven peddled by false prophets like you."
My words hung in the air, a challenge to the prophet's authority and a reflection of my own disillusionment with the faith.
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