Harold?s 'pay for prayers' plan trashed

Finally, Harold and his puppets approached the Soup Rim Court, our highest court, with an aim to have their final appeal for the Prayer Payment Initiative (PPI) heard.

And although I head the village courts, I have little to do with what they do. I am a ceremonial head. Any person that suggests that I am privy to the decisions they make is deluded.

Over the course of the national examinations, Harold intensified his call to have people pay him for prayers. he used this same tactic last year and made a lot of money at the expense of parents whose children brought home marks that could be counted on one hand. 

PPI, which sought the directive that the amount of prayers one needed be commensurate with the contribution one made to my uncle, has been frustrated time and again.

It failed to convince conspiracy theorists, who called Harold a wolf in a sheep’s skin. I defended Harold; he is just a wolf in a wolf’s skin. As you already know, he preaches wine and drinks the same.

Opponents of this course, with Sue leading a determined pack, went to the courts. They started with the Magic-Strait Court, where the jury is said to rely on the power of magic to influence cases.

Often, the magic is the money that the complainant or the defendant is able to fetch the court. Harold did not have any and PPI was trashed. He appealed at the Hi Court.

But the Hi Court was also not willing to listen, and Harold found himself hanging around the Court of Uphill, in the hill of Gitegi, to try have the case against his PPI overturned.

As he is wont to, Harold lost the case. And so this week, we met at the highest court in the land, the Soup Rim Court, to hear the final fate of Harold’s “very noble”, according to my uncle, course.

After a long wait, with the judges telling us non-issues such as the reason why Mwene Mutapa empire failed and the reason Lionel Messi refused to sign for Gor Mahia, it was time for the final verdict.

One of the judges had made it clear that she was in agreement with Harold about the legality and sanctity of the PPI.

We all knew that she has been a beneficiary of Harold’s very rare generosity, and wanted to squeeze herself between Sue and Clarissa’s in my uncle’s hierarchy so she can always get a share of the offertory that Harold gobbles up every Sunday.

The chief judge who until recently was yours truly (again that was just a ceremonial position and I did not even know what I was supposed to do) told us it was time for the court’s verdict.

Remember that in my village, the judiciary is supposed to be independent. But Harold thinks the judiciary is a vestigial limb, and therefore one that should not be given much attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” went the head of the village courts, and immediately his breath hit my nostrils, I knew she was on Sue’s payroll. “Today is a remarkable day...”

By the time she was done, Harold's dream was dead. On a foolscap, on Fool’s Day, a two-line judgement was read.

Harold was asked to stop conning poor villagers and to take advantage of the rainy season to grow some corn instead.