The Ilembula Sullivan Summit is On 

By lute wa lutengano 

I am presently on my way home, to that now famous village, Ilembula. Over and above many other factors Ilembula’s fame is courtesy to this third rate column. Actually my home village is slowly assuming its rightful place in the world map – the world Christian map to be more precise. 

For come October this year, the village is going to play host to a mini-Sullivan summit, minus the accompanying loss of local business generation which went with the latter’s Arusha adventure. 

This time Ilembula will play host to more than 500 delegates, basically from Germany and the Scandinavian countries to commemorate 100 years of the establishment of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in the land of the Benas. 

You may have read in an earlier ‘Off Topic’ penning some years ago about the existence of German graves in Ilembula village dating back to 1907. These were of the Berlin Lutheran Church missionaries who traveled all the way from the land of the Kaiser to Ubenaland to convert the native sons of Africans into the ways of some ancient son of the Israelites named Jesus Christ. 

Knowing that these latter-day Berliners and Scandinavians are going to swamp my village, I suddenly recalled that I have a decent structure in Ilembula village which may generate some Christian-related income by housing the European visitors. 

I am therefore on my way to Ilembula to refurbish this structure. If you therefore see me after October with a generous front and a chubby fresh face, know that it has a lot to do with the new Ilembula Christian crusade. 

It may also interest you to know that I am penning this article from Morogoro town, and in a hotel which since my arrival has changed its name from Front View to Fromin. The change however does not include the bar and restaurant part of the hotel. This baffles me but everybody including the hotel staff seem to be happy about it. 

A fine son of Arusha, Ahmed, recommended this hotel to me and even booked my room. And Ahmed is no simple person. At a very tender age, he is already the Morogoro Regional Police Crimes Officer. 

Being a travel connoisseur, there is nothing as more assuring than having a cop, and a senior cop for that matter, for a friend in any locality one visits. 

And the day before, as I drove along the Segera-Chalinze road, I received a call from one of my childhood friends. He, Dr Moses Dagger Halelwa Ligonile, is now an accomplished medical Doctor and a Pediatrician to boot. Coincidentally he was also driving to Morogoro from Kiteto. I easily convinced him to join me at the hotel I was staying. 

Dr. Halelwa and I grew up together in Benaland and in our early school days before he went on to the then Union of Soviet Socialist Republic, the USSR, for his medical studies. 

Another travel advice is to have a Doctor at hand whenever one is on a sojourn. No wonder I had a lengthy dinner date with Dr. Halelwa. However he did not deliver any medical advice to me. Rather he in passing commented that with my bloated body it would take a miracle for me to dash for safety in case of emergency. 

Dr. Halelwa reminded me of our school days in the mid-70s when one day I became the village David of the bible who crushed the Goliaths of a neighbouring village in Ubena. I and the now Dr. Halelwa were then part of the Palangavanu village football team. On that day, a Sunday to be more precise, we were invited to the neighbouring Matovo village for a football match. 

The tough, muscular and elderly Matovo village team members ridiculed us because of what they said of us as being too young, snobbish and fragile boys. They swore that they would as a result teach us a lesson by mercilessly crushing us that we would curse the day we were born.  The arrogant goons even brought to the football pitch their local church choir ladies cum girlfriends, to witness our slaughter. 

Unfortunately we, the Palangavanu boys, outsmarted them. Within the first twenty minutes of the game, they were two down. Dr. Halelwa reminded me that I was the David who hurled the two stones which crushed the Matovo Golliath. That also made me a darling of the village maidens, a potentially very serious and dangerous development. 

To cut the whole story short, the match ended prematurely and unceremoniously when one of the Matovo goons picked up the ball, our ball and the only one in the area, and tore it into pieces. The rest of his teammates descended upon us with kicks and fists. We had to dash for safety into the nearby ravine and flee home to Palangavanu. 

This is a thing which Dr. Halelwa reminded me that I can now never accomplish. Well let it be so!lutengano@hotmail.com.

ADDENDUM

Dear Lute wa Lutengano
 
I am a Tanzanian young man based in Kampala, I am the old time reader of Arusha Times. One thing I like about you is the way you tune your stories.  They are really great though you are telling us about a sad story but the way you put it is just great.
 
I also read your article in the past about Mkwawa Secondary School. I could imagine how good the school was and this is actually what brought my memory.