Let us begin at the very beginning. Once upon the longest time possible there lived a man who was not born of a woman. He is the richest man ever because the title deed to this world was in his name. Good people, the tycoon was none other than Adam.
Adam the tycoon was not satisfied with owning the whole world and his manufacturer noted as much. His manufacturer gave him an overdose of Piriton and the tycoon became three quarters dead. The Manufacturer removed a spare part from the tycoon in the form of a rib and, with a great deal of magic, produced a likeness of the tycoon only that it was inside-out. When the tycoon resurrected he looked at the new shape of his rib and decided that it was beautiful. That is why he called it Eve. She was a tycoon too because were they to divorce she was entitled to half the land, sea and space. Since the two tycoons skipped zygote and toddler stages neither had a belly button.
The two tycoons signed an MOU with their Creator to the effect that they would enjoy mangoes, quavers, avocados and the like but not fruits from the tree of life. Forgive me because I forget the name of the fruits from the tree of life. The two also received a very tall order of unleashing a population explosion on earth. By then the world population stood at two and the thought of 7 billion Homo sapiens was as heroic as Vision 2030.
Multiparty politics had since begun with God leading the ruling party and Satan chairing the official opposition. The leader of official opposition was also a magician and that is why he took the shape of a black mamba and hit the campaign trail where he met the rib and gave her his manifesto. One thing led to the other and the two tycoons dishonoured their MOU with their manufacturer.
Before they joined the opposition the two tycoons wore birthday suits because private parts were public parts. The dishonour of the MOU led to the discovery that indeed there are private and public parts.
Their Creator, now as irate as an Honourable Member who has lost his sitting, standing, walking and sleeping allowances, told them, ‘siasa mbaya maisha mbaya’ (bad politics leads to bad life). To instil some manners in the two defectors He sentenced them to a life-time of hard labour and suffering. Whenever Eve visited the maternity ward to fill the earth she would wail in pain. As for Adam, well, it was the end of spoon feeding because he would live like a donkey from Warufaga. For those not in the know, Warufaga is a domesticated, tongue-friendly version of that place called Elbagon.
The irate Creator did not stop there. He went ahead to introduced an expiry date. To this end, sooner or later the two tycoons would get an untimely and unwelcome visit from Mr. Death. Ladies and gentlemen, that marked the beginning of the crisis since the punishment would carry on to future generations. Ras Mutambaruka, one of my neighbours, knows this and that is why he tells me that we are sufferers of Jah.
Towards the end of the last millennium a certain young man from Kiandutu called Munyotoku son of Mung’aru decided that he was of age to replace his rib. He identified his rib and, after lengthy negotiations, the two agreed to form a coalition of the type known as marriage.
Munyotoku wa Mung’aru and his rib knew that not only was it irresponsible but foolish too to leave the world as they found it. Unfortunately, tougher and self-centred fellows like Newton and Galileo had already allocated themselves all the discoveries years before. However, the Munyotokus were such a dedicated couple nothing was going to stop them from leaving a mark. Their breakthrough came in the shape of the order given to their greatest grandparents to fill the earth. The product of their resolve is yours truly, Wizard alias Mali ya Mungu and a young rib called Supuu.
Good people, when I stand in front of the mirror I see Mr. Universe. Nonetheless, there must be a collective defect with eye sight because a lot of people have problems with my perfect anatomy. Kisangau, one of my neighbours in that plot owned by Adolf, stands out in this campaign. In particular, Kisangau has issues with my head and dental formula. My incisors are so shaped that I smile even when I am mad so that were my face to undergo alignment I would not need Operation Smile but Operation Don’t Smile. It would call for a tough doctor who can either lengthen the upper lip or make the incisors stand at or close to ninety degrees.
To add sunshine to a very friendly face, I am the proud owner of a very smart gap between the smiling teeth. Kisangau translates the gap to mean a defective dental formula. He pretends to forget how the likes of Vera used to fall head over heels for the owner of such a gap not so long ago. For those not in the know, Vera is a tough rib simply because she is taller lying down than standing. This is because her Creator decided to use enough material to create several Wizards on that part of body used for sitting. As for my head, well, God was just a little bit more generous.
I am either tall or short, dark or light-skinned depending with my location. This is because if I happen to be in Sudan I will be brownie Zakayo. If I happen to be in the neighbourhood of Congo I will be Cain.
If you met someone with similar characteristics it could have been me. If the person frightened you then it wasn’t me because, to be honest, I look like God.
Stick with me so that we can know each other better.