2019, I attended a church service along Ngong Rd. There was a section for youths, adults & kids. I had gone bald so decided to huddle with the adults, youths had mohawks. Service is good: Pastor says adults move forward for prayer, I move forward solemnly, hands behind my back.

Service proceeds. It is almost over when an ex-campus classmate sees me; he is in the youth section & has a mohawk. I had already implied I was an adult and was not going to be compromised by him...when he gets to me I ask loudly, "How are your parents, Mike?"

He is dazed by the question when I disappear further into the adult section. Church ends, pastors commends adults for taking time away from their busy schedules to attend church and guide the youth, I shake my head in agreement. "It's not easy," I whisper to another adult.

Before the close of service pastor invites his daughter, she has an announcement for the youths. My heart skipped a beat. She was the most beautiful thing I had seen that year. She says, "Hallelujah". I say "Amen!". She says, "youths will be meeting after church"

I had to meet the pastor's daughter. Yet, I had implied I was 40 & above, so I knew right there & then that was the devil's work. The pastor has preached about outmaneuvering the devil, so I stayed behind. As a youth. I was not going to let the devil win this one.

I merge with the youth after church, one mofo had seen me in the adult's section, started saying "you were in the adult's sec...", He didn't finish. I glare at him bite my jaw like Rambo. It scared him. Then, I pinch my voice, & say, "I am a youth". Like a bitch. They believe me.

Pastor's daughter says, "guests will stay behind for a little meeting with her". I look around, and the only other youthful guests raising their hands were four women. I whisper quietly, "Oh! you God of miracles". She says, "Praise the Lord!", I say, "AMEN!!"

After church we meet, I tell her about how I was raised in the church. How my father, grandfather & great grandfathers were preachers. I quote John 3:16, "If you go, you will come back, sayeth the Lord". They are very impressed by my depth. I say, "praise be to him".

She ignores the other lady guests, but I did not ignore them. I take their numbers, for communion. As the Lord instructs. Once they leave, I tell her I would like to talk to her about my journey in Christ, she gives me her number, and says, "Welcome, brother Troy".

All week I bombard her with scriptures via text. She bombards right back. But on Sunday, I do not show up. You have to be strategic with these things. In the evening, she says she didn't see me in church, I tell her I am sick. "Dry-spell Mellitus" - heart condition. She is sad.

She says, she will visit to pray with me. By Wednesday, she hasn't arrived yet so I download a picture of a hand on a drip, in a hospital ward & post it on WhatsApp status. I lock others from seeing it. I caption the image: "I have fought a good fight..." She calls me, in tears..

She comes on Friday, I had told her I would be released on Thursday. I pretend to be dying, I pinch my voice, & ask for water. She goes to the kitchen, comes back, holds my hand, and we pray. Then she cooks, I take two bites, pretend I can't eat anymore.

She nurses me back to health. After 2 weeks, we go out. And then another out, and after a month, we are an item. Everything was going well, until 2 months later... I had started noticing that every time we went out, & I excused myself for the washroom, my food would be pinched.

Like you know, if I had left 5 pieces of beef on the plate, I would find 2 on coming back. It bothered me, but I was not going to grieve loudly. After all, she is the pastor's daughter, imagine accusing her of stealing your lettuce. .

So one time, we head to the supermarket. We are walking down the aisles. AAt the back of my head, I can see 3 attendants hovering right about us. I get upset & shout indignantly, "why are you hounding us? Do I look like a guy that can steal?" They back off. I am pissed.

We shop around. I get her some stuff. Our trolley is full, I tell her, I can buy her the whole supermarket, "I don't joke, baby". I had started to notice that her stomach was swollen but I dismissed it as her folded stomach. It probably was pulling out of her tights.

We get to the counter, I pay for the stuff. This is where my embarrassment starts. As we are moving out, the alarm goes off. Everybody turns to look at us, I am thinking, "what is this". I tell the manager, "I will sue you for this!", he pushes us to a room in the supermarket.

We are told to strip, I oblige. Baby is crying, I am thinking, "these mofos will pay for making my baby cry". Next thing you know, a total of 6 packets of sausages fall from my baby's stomach. I am thinking, "Jesus, what did I do to deserve this?"

I am thinking, "surely this bitch". There was ps4, there was a diamond ring, there was an expensive watch in the supermarket, but you go and steal fucking sausage?!! I mean, how hungry can you be? If she had stolen something proper, I would have defended her. But sausage?

I am left with her, to think about what "we" have done. Now I see where my beef pieces have been going to...and why the supermarket attendants were all over us. My baby had gone & stolen sausage... I am thinking, "how can you waste a crime like that?"

I tell her to stop crying, she was sounding like a hyena. I tell her, "look woman, why would you steal? I would have gotten you the sausages". She says proudly, "I can't help myself, T. I am a 'Kilepealiac'" Oh man! The future mother of my kids can't even spell "kleptomaniac"

That night we sleep in jail. I call my friends, they are beside themselves with laughter. Her father comes for baby in the morning, I hear him telling the cops, "I knew there was something wrong with that boy the moment I saw him". Damn! I should have never gone to church fr.

So yeah, if one more Jehovah's Witnesses knocks on my door in the name of salvation, I will be going back to jail for murder. Tell someone, to tell someone. Save a life. I am done with church girls. When they are not demons, they are 'kilepealiacs'. Sticking to my hoes.