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THE CURSE OF MY BLESSINGS IN MY POOR VILLAGE.

My first home that was to be burnt.

My Names are Paul Weringa. I was born and raised in the villages of Kakamega county, 10 kilometers away from Kakamega town on your way to Mumias. Being a first born in a family of eight siblings, I grew up seeing my dad and mum live like outcasts and beggars in our village. Everyone knew us as the most desperate family and every evil was linked to our us; leave alone being baptized with different bad names of mockery and shame.

I grew up a bitter child because of how my mother and father were treated so badly. My mother was always blamed by one of my uncles for the death of his chicken, goat or a calf. My dad was one day in my eyes shamed by one of my aunts who pulled up her clothes and remained naked in his face while she insulted him.

Some of the saddening memories that I carry from my childhood includes:

• Seeing my mom cook food in a cowboy tin which she picked at the dumping site in our market place because we did not afford to have a proper kitchen ware.

• Staying hungry the whole day until the late nights waiting for my dad to come with at least something to put in the stomach but only to come home empty handed and then send me in my grandfather’s sugarcane plantation to steal some canes which we did chew, drink water and then sleep. I do confess to the owner of the sugarcane farm that these we did many times.

• Coming from school and on reaching home, I used to find nothing to eat. Obviously as a child the next plan was always to go to my grandmother’s place and stand right at the door peradventure, she may have mercy on me. But in many cases I would watch her eat with my young uncles as I swallow my saliva. One day, my aunt had come to visit my grandmother and as it was my habit, I did go and stood watching through the window as food was prepared. Little did I know that I was bothering my aunt. What hit me that day, only the Lord knows. I found myself running in the compound screaming for help as the skin on my back was ripped off by hot water which was poured on me by my aunt. I still hold the burn marks on my back until today.

• One day I spent the whole day in school without eating anything because I knew that there is nothing back home. In the evening while going home, I decided to have a piece sugarcane from a plantation that belonged to one of my grandfathers. I tell you; my short sized grand father together with his wife beat me like a dog using the same sugarcane and left me for the dead.

• One of my aunts came home and threatened my mom saying that either her or her son (me) will die on a date that she gave us. She was very sure of what she said and we knew that she meant her words. Few days to the date given, my mom and I were plowing and something mysterious happened. A strong force came and lifted and carried me to where my mum was and as she lifted up her folk to dig the ground, she ended up digging the skull of my head. I literarily died but after some long hours I found myself in a hospital bed, helpless. Up to until today, my skull has never healed properly. When the very date that my aunt said came, one of my beloved uncles died. Guess what? My grandmother, my aunts and their relatives came home crying saying that my mom should be given the body of my deceased uncle and eat because they claimed that she was responsible for his death. We were never able to move freely because we would be eaten alive for killing my uncle.

My schooling was full of problems. I thank God for one Madam Risper Shikuku my primary school teacher who sympathized with my whole situation and decided to share with me her food and money. I would literarily sit in the office together with her plus other teachers and eat from her plate. Besides food, she helped pay my school fees and also provided food to my parents. I know that I can never pay her enough. The Lord bless her for me. She is the reason I put on the first pair of shoes, a trouser and a shirt.

After my high school education, I was not lucky to join a college or a university like the rest of my friends for lack of money. I ended up doing manual jobs of every kind to take care of my needs. It’s after 15 years that I was able to join Masinde Muliro University. This is after God had opened my ways and granted me a job.

As if the pain which was inflicted on me by my own people had come to an end, things even got worse when I gained the power to change my life and the life of my parents in a very small way. I started hearing a song of “he is a devil worshipper” sung and I thought that it was just a joke of the day. Nobody wanted to associate with me for having things like a poultry farm and a mere small house.

It dawned to me that my people were serious in hating me when I bought my first small car and when I installed electricity in our home. I vividly remember how one of my uncles stopped me having a machete (panga) in his hand and threatened to kill me if I dare pass through his home with the car. Our neighbor on the other side of the home reported me to the authorities for having the electric wires pass over his land to my home. Every route in the village was closed save for one that remained accessible. Trees were planted on the foot paths just to make sure that my small car does not pass through their homes.

The old car.

One day, my grandfather had reported me to the authorities for a crime of employing his former employer on our land. Things did not turn out right with me for he had bribed the authorities and therefore the case was ruled in his favor. After some few days, he unfortunately got very sick to a point whereby he would not make a move. Plans for taking him to the hospital were made and my dad requested me to carry him in my small car. Believe me you!! My grandfather refused to get into the car demanding that I should ask him to forgive me. What baffled me more is the fact that everyone including my uncles used this same opportunity to insult me singing a song of “illuminate things will perish”. My grandfather later accepted to get into the car after I played a fool and asked him to forgive me.

So as to leave and head to the hospital, my dad and his brother (who is my uncle) were to accompany him. To my shock, only my dad got into the car but my uncle swore never to use that car. He followed us using his bicycle.

Even though they hated me and the things God blessed me with, they later began to use the same electricity in their functions and charge their phones. My car would be used by some in the late nights for to take them in hospital while sick.

Tragedies do happen. But unto my people, someone must be given the cross to carry. In September 2017, my daughter passed away. It was the most difficult time of my life because my dear wife had gone through an operation and therefore, she would not be present with me to see our daughter buried. My people came to mourn with me as it is our culture. My dear mum did her best to make sure that everyone ate. My dad was out to make sure that a coffin is purchased. After all was done and my daughter buried, the same people that came to mourn with me left claiming that I was responsible for the death of my daughter. You ask “how”? I was blamed for acquiring riches through the power of worshipping the devil and therefore I gave my daughter as a sacrifice to him. You can tell how bitter I was in my heart. I had to stop all of them from fetching water in our home because others claimed that their kids were sickling because of using things from our home.

My departed daughter.

Few years down the line, everyone in my village had no doubt that I was in a secret society known as illuminate and that my well being was dependent on giving human sacrifices unto the devil.

Late 2017, a man in our village was knocked by a bus but did not die instantly. He was taken to a referral hospital and admitted in the intensive care unit. I was shocked to see his people come to my home wailing, some going naked claiming that I was responsible of their brother’s situation. They left my home threatening to burn my small house should their brother die. Unfortunately, he did die after some few weeks. My family and I were not safe. The plans to burn my house were underway. I had to seek help from a nearby police station.

I have to admit that I have always lived a life of fear should any of my close family members die. Every time my wife conceives, I keep pleading with God to keep her alive together with the unborn should the songs of my enemies be confirmed to be true. I thank God because since I lost my daughter, my wife has had three children through an operation and are all doing well.

In the year 2023, the Lord enabled me to help my parents have a small permanent house after their house of many years was almost going down. These did not go well with my people.

Last year (2024), the Lord further opened my doors and I did build a permanent four-bedroomed house. Since then, so many things have happened against my family. What hurts most is the fact that my people have openly claimed that the construction of the two houses is done by the power of my influence in the secret societies. As much as I have tried to ignore these enemies of progress, I realize that this is a situation that I will have deal with the rest of my life.

Our new house.

The same devil followed me to Nairobi.

In the year 2022 February, one of the ladies in our church died after having been sick for a long time. After we mourned and buried her, some people left our church claiming that I had sacrificed her to the devil.

Our church.

After things calmed down in our church, a couple lost a baby prematurely and guess what? The same song was sung against me; the servant of God. A lady came in our church with a problem of fainting. It was said that I am responsible.

God has blessed people in our church with children and many other things but I am always afraid should anything happen and therefore give the devil a place to glory in the hearts of those who hate me and our ministry.

My daily prayer unto the Lord is to help me never to be ashamed in the eyes of my people who have long made me look like an evil man. Even as I hope to see God’s blessings through my wife soon, I hope and pray that all shall be well with me, my family and church .

My family.

If this story has touched you in any way, please remember to pray with me because it’s only God who can heal my wounded heart.

I thank God the father of my Lord Jesus Christ for preserving me and my family this far even though the will of my enemies is to see my downfall so that their narrative against me is proven true.