Unfortunately, I am broke and can’t afford Range Rovers from the bond so I didn’t give him any more than the saliva streaming down my open mouth
First, a clarification: some of you who follow and believe so much in the value of Prophet Mbonye will buzz with so much fury at this page for writing about your Man of Gad in a manner that doesn’t resonate with your adoration. Please don’t.
If you do that, you will not be different from the proverbial fly. You know the proverbial fly? Yes, if mourners shook the coffin, the proverbial fly would buzz with anger because it feels someone is disturbing its adoration.
Besides, Prophet Mbonye actually prophesied that Empty Tin will write about him on Thursday, August 6, at 9:25am. The prophecy held that Umeme would misbehave, forcing the eminent brains behind Empty Tin to speed up the article. He also held that the column would be published in Sunday Monitor of August 9.
So, like this Simon whose botanical name sounds like a ‘local door’ kept digging into Nyege Nyege to find his assumptions, we also went further and asked Mbonye, “so on what page will this piece be run by the Sunday Monitor?”
“You can only cross the bridge when you get there,” he said. “You can’t get to the Kingdom of Gad without first getting saved and being born again. You’ve to accept Jesus Christ as the Saviour. When the paper hits the newsstands, get a copy and flip the pages, you will find the column inside.”
As you read this, you can tell the power of the Man of Gad.
“By the way, there will be at least two staples to disturb your fingers before you can open those pages,” he had added.
You can email me if the paper won’t be stapled. For us, we allowed. Who would argue with this? Yes, Mbonye prophesied that we would write this, so don’t get worked up over the manifestation of his own prophecy.
Many years ago when a boy called Joseph Kibweteere and this innocent looking side chaw called Credonia Mwerinde were still kids playing with snaking trail of their urine, Mbonye prophesied that these two would make human flesh smell all over Uganda for days.
He said that Kanungu would be a pit of flames so furious even the angels would weep. This is why I went to visit Prophet Mbonye last week.
If he could tell the tragic event so accurately even before he became a prophet, just imagine what more he can do as one. Mbonye probably knows where Kibweteere and his squeeze Credonia are hold up at, I thought. But the Man of Gad dismissed my questions, saying “Gad gives prophecies.” I don’t know what he meant so I stood there looking lost like his followers. He enjoyed the spectacle of a confused and lost me.
Unfortunately, I am broke and can’t afford Range Rovers from the bond so I didn’t give him any more than the saliva streaming down my open mouth.
I walked away wondering where Kibweteere and Credonia are.
Maybe one day Prophet Mbonye will feel good after soaking in some good kisses at his feet and tell us.
Meanwhile, before I put the question of Kibweteere and Credonia to Mbonye, I heard him say Nyege Nyege would go ahead in spite of this ‘local door’ man’s rants. He said ‘Nzoka mundele mutu mabe te’ and turned his back on me. I could sense his smile from the nape of his head.
He said, “Gad will make you understand Lingala.” Instantly, it came in. ‘The white man is not all that bad.’ A reference to Local Door or whatever’s attack on Nyege Nyege.
It came to me that unlike the other guy who prophesied that a presidential candidate would die and later claimed that he had prayed for it not to happen – he had actually realised that spirits smuggled in bottles over the lake do not give prophecies but drunken rants—Mbonye is legit. He even made my day by saying that after Nyege Nyege, someone will organise a ffene festival.
This, he said after I told him that I did not give a pig’s tail about festivals as I never attend them. “Relax, there will be a ffene festival, and you will attend. Ffene festival will make you a fartivational speaker,” he said. I’m not sure I heard that right, or he meant motivational. The only thing that mattered was ffene and I liked that idea.
When I turned to go, there was a woman draped in a flowing cream gown. She looked like a bride or a bribe or both. The V on her back revealed a tattoo of Prophet Mbonye—suited like a white Madagascan penguin as usual—with the word ‘honour’. She told me in passing that the Man of Gad had prophesied that she would go to that extent.