You Can't Legislate Theology

I've lived long enough,

I've traveled far,

I've heard a lot, seen a lot,

And experienced a lot,

And I've come to the conclusion

That you can't legislate theology

Because then theology becomes ideology

And which ideology defines government,

And which government

May be hijacked by a few fanatical lunatics

And turned into an overbearing dictorship.

And that is not democracy.

The Thirteenth Widow (A Novel): The Story (Part 1)

What if you woke up one morning with a broken arm, a broken rib, and six stitches of some fiber across your heavily bandaged face, and you were in a room you couldn’t see, except it smelled like carbolic acid (excuse my archaic language); you knew that you’ve been badly banged and your body ached generally.

Sure there was a feminine voice in the room, and the voice was saying that you’ll be okay; that you were worse a few days before; that some people she couldn’t talk about in public nearly killed you. “You’ll live, Mr. Okoth,” she says, walking out of the room before you could tell her that you were thirsty. Regardless she couldn’t have heard your mumbled words, and she couldn’t have obeyed your need because you were a Nothing-by-Mouth case.

You walked out a month later with a part of your life left behind. You move on back to your life as the headmaster of Soko Primary School, knowing quite well that a middle-school foe had been behind your ordeal; that the woman you remember having shared beer with; the woman you spent a night with, had been a police bait placed on your alcoholic path by friends of your middle-school foe—a bait that would deliver you to hungry intelligence dogs looking for Mwakenya sympathizers. Don’t worry if you never heard the word Mwakenya. Those who lived through Kenya’s politics in the 1980s know that Mwakenya was an underground movement whose sole agenda was to bring down KANU’s one-party state. You were beaten senseless because someone—your middle-school foe—claimed that you were Mwakenya agent, yet you were not, and you had nowhere to complain.

You, Okoth weren’t that lucky, for a few years later, the same foe now was the chief of your location at a time when Kenyan location chiefs wielded much power and directly answered to the President of the nation. You remained a mere headmaster of a Middle School. You drunk together with your chief, call him Chief Omolo, and the chief could insist that you escorted him home, and you did so because no one ever said no to the chief. Along the way to the chief’s abode, you sampled chang’aa (an illicit brew) and the chief did the buying, and you did the drinking. In fact, he only sniffed the bottles of chang’aa you shared. You felt happy as you ambled your way deeper and deeper into the chief’s village, sampling chang’aa as you went. To an observer, the two of you were just two buddies walking shoulder to shoulder. But you were drunk and he wasn’t, and the chief was up to something sinister.

What if you woke up early dawn on a strange headache, singing in praise of your wife Jane, except you were not in your home? You were two ridges away to the south in the house of some widow left behind by a distant cousin. She had been asleep before you sang, and your strange song ticked her off, and now she was ordering you leave her house before sunrise. In her deal with Chief Omolo, who had delivered you to her, the sun was not supposed to rise with you still in the home in mourning; your mission was supposed to have been so secret that even you, the drunkard, wasn’t supposed to have known that you had been in the home of curses. Now you understood the joke. You knew that the late Otieno died a strange death, a fact that had kept his brothers away from his beautiful widow. Your situation stunk: In your drunken stupor, you had inherited the spiritual burdens in your late cousin’s home. If you were a scholar of the Old Testament, or if you had read Apostle Paul’s Letter to Hebrews, you understood that you had become what the people of faith called the scapegoat—the goat that left the sanctuary with communal sins for an uncertain journey into the wild desert where predators roamed.

(To continue . . .).

The American Polygamist

When Chief Chuki gets entangled in a business deal with rival Goldian Army Generals, he finds himself held hostage in a land in which he is revered. Yet even with his proximity to the wheels of power on both sides of the pond, he cannot shout for help because of the desire to keep his good name. Second, his Goldian wife has delivered a son and uses the unique circumstances of his captivity to demand part of his wealth in exchange for his freedom and her silence over his marital status.

Now, a desire for secrecy demands that Chuki engages the expertise of a fellow Iraqi War I Veteran and his high-tech buddies, who have created a lucrative business niche negotiating the release of Western hostages from the high-risk world of African warlords, terrorists, and sea pirates.

In THE AMERICAN POLYGAMIST (ISBN-13: 144992798-1) , J.R. Alila weaves a story with many twists and turns as family betrays family, honor is traded for wealth and an honorable man becomes a prisoner of his own secrets.

Enter Chuki’s American wife, Patty, who suspects that he has at least one African wife and child in Africa. Mrs. Patty Chuki is ready to revisit old Brooklyn-High-School romance with a Major Frank to get to the truth while in a Harvard reunion with her billionaire husband in the Masai Mara. But will Admiral Ndeki of Goldian Navy let Patty taste the forbidden fruit in peace in Nairobi?

COMING SOON at:

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002QD5TDM

www.createspace.com/3413870

Author JR Alila

Author, Poet and Novelist Joseph R. Alila is a native of Kenya. JR Alila is a Chemist by training. JR Alila considers creative writing to be a natural consequence of the aging process. JR Alila has written extensively on his Luo people's marriage and other cultural practices, criticizing them where criticism is due, and shedding a sage's light so as to put meaning to old traditions. JR Alila's mournful caution against the practice of polygamy in the era of the AIDS virus comes in SUNSET ON POLYGAMY. JR has written extensively on pride, bigotry and prejudice in the spiritual/cultural novels, THE MILAYI CURSE, NOT ON MY SKIN, and SINS OF OUR HEARTS.
In his writings, JR treats each of his characters as "the total person"---a writing style that has made such works as WHISPER TO MY ACHING HEART, SUNSET ON POLYGAMY, THE LUO DREAMERS' ODYSSEY: FROM THE SUDAN TO AMERICAN POWER, NOT ON MY SKIN, and THE WISE ONE OF RAMOGILAND, to be informative anthropological treatises on people and their physical, spiritual, political, cultural, and social circumstances.
When JR set out to write he had no voice or agenda. His objective was to tell stories about his Luo people and his experiences as a Christian, a Luo, an African, and a World Scholar uprooted from his home base to chase scientific dreams. But Eight Novels and two Epic Poems (RATENG' AND BRIDE and THIRTEEN CURSES ON MOTHER AFRICA) later, he finds himself speaking increasingly for the burdened and voiceless African women and widows (in THE THIRTEENTH WIDOW, SUNSET ON POLYGAMY, and WHISPER TO MY ACHING HEART) whose yokes are the marital culture and practices whose original intentions were protective, but now turned spiritual death traps from which there is no escape.
JR has found his political voice in RATENG' AND BRIDE (Kenya's 2007 Presidential contest), THE LUO DREAMERS' ODYSSEY: FROM THE SUDAN TO AMERICAN POWER (A historical-cum-spiritual fictional march of the Luo into the world's only citadel of power---inspired by Obama Presidency), and THIRTEEN CURSES ON MOTHER AFRICA (An Epic Poem; theme: Africa is deluded with perilous crises, a lot of which are due to amnesia, poor leadership choices, greed, greedy friends and brother-on-brother conflicts, with Ebony the African Woman and her children bearing the brunt of their deadly consequences).
Eight novels and two epic poems later, in THE WISE ONE OF RAMOGILAND and THE LUO DREAMERS' ODYSSEY: FROM THE SUDAN TO AMERICAN POWER, JR Alila comes out as a sage's torch illuminating various aspects of the Luo journey, Luo cultural practices, Luo spirituality, and Luo thought.
Finally in the novel, NOT ON MY SKIN, JR Alila describes the American experience, consciousness and attitudes at street level, inside houses of worship and at the work place. This author has come of age.

These books are now available at Amazon AUTHOR CENTRAL, where this Author/Poet/Novelist from Nhiwa (Kenya) is proudly featured. This author has come of age, friends and fans.
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002QD5TDM