Beneath the Pulpit
Doreen Masika
CHARACTERS
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Early 50s. A flamboyant preacher who insists on his title, loves money, theatrics, and has selective morality.
BABU: Late 20s. The diligent church accountant, caught between faith and skepticism.
MWAS: Early 30’s. Babu’s roommate, tech-guru. A free-spirited skeptic.
BODYGUARD: Late 30s. Apostle Mwamburi’s personal security detail.
CONGREGATION: Enthusiastic worshippers.
SETTING
An ageing Pentecostal church in the heart of Nairobi. The story moves between the main sanctuary, and the cramped church office.
SCENE 1
An old Pentecostal church adorned by fading paint and cracks, hidden beneath layers of bright fabric. A large silver cross hangs on the wall, its shine dulled. The pulpit, drowning in velvet and satin, conceals the worn wood beneath. Apostle Mwamburi, in an all-white suit with gold trimmings, grips the podium, his golden cross swinging as he preaches. Beside him, a bear-sized Bodyguard in dark shades scans the congregation, unmoving, unreadable.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Brethren! When the Lord blesses you, do you just say Amina and move on? Is an Amen enough?
CONGREGATION (loudly) : NOOOOO!
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: I said, when He wakes you up, do you say Amina and keep your pockets shut?
CONGREGATION (louder) : NOOOOOOO!
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Hallelujah! Last night, the Lord spoke to me. He said, ‘Mwamburi, my faithful servant, build me an altar! A place of worship bigger than Solomon’s! A cathedral for my children!’
(He pauses dramatically. The congregants at the front clap as if they were paid extra to do so.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: My people, we must give! Give what you have. Gold or silver! Do not hide, because the Lord sees your bank account!
CONGREGATION (murmuring): Ehh?…
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: I said, the Lord SEES YOUR M-PESA BALANCE!
CONGREGATION (suddenly charged): YEEESSSSSSSS!
(A moment of rapture. People wave handkerchiefs, some fall into dramatic worship, and someone in the back starts speaking in tongues that sound suspiciously like street slang.)
SCENE 2.
A small office in the church. Babu sits before an old computer, balancing the books. Enter Apostle Mwamburi, clutching an overheating laptop like it’s an explosive. His bodyguard follows, watching everything – a security camera with muscles.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Aiya! This technology, Babu. These inventors think they are wiser than the Lord! But look now! My laptop has frozen!
BABU: Have you been watching…umm…your inspirational videos again?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: You better watch your tongue, young man! This laptop has demons!
BABU: My roommate, Mwas, can fix it.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Perfect. Wait… (He pauses, eyes narrowing) Is he saved?
BABU: No. But he is really good at his job.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Good is not enough! Does he tithe?
BABU: Must a mechanic be born again to fix a car?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: A God-fearing mechanic won’t steal your battery.
BABU: And a corrupt preacher will still steal your flock.
(Pause. The Bodyguard shifts uncomfortably.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Fair point. Call him. But if he corrupts my laptop with his atheist demons, you and him will answer before the Lord and I! Oh, and Babu…
BABU: Yes, pastor?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Apostle! It is Apostle Mwamburi! Do not demote my calling, young man!
BABU: Sorry, Apostle.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Tell him to hurry up. I need to use it for spiritual purposes this evening.
(An hour later, Mwas, a casually dressed, confident young man, enters the church office. He is carrying his laptop bag.)
MWAS: Ah, Pastor! I see you are in need of worldly assistance?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Eish! It’s Apostle. Apostle Mwamburi! I have earned that title in the vineyard of the Lord!
MWAS: Ah, forgive me, your Apostleship. Your laptop needs divine healing?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: It has been lagging, and I need it to conduct my evening prayers.
(The Bodyguard steps forward, his voice calm, but with an edge to it.)
BODYGUARD: Evening prayers, Apostle? I thought you said you had a…private meeting tonight. Something about…spiritual counselling?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (flinching slightly): Ah, yes! Yes, of course. The Lord’s work never ends. (nervously chuckles) But first, this laptop must be fixed!
BODYGUARD (nodding slowly): Of course. Wouldn’t want anything…unholy interfering with your schedule.
(There’s a tense pause. The Bodyguard’s gaze lingers on Apostle Mwamburi, who avoids eye contact. Babu and Mwas glance between them, sensing some tension. Mwas sits, connects cables, and starts working.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Anyway, Mwas, do you believe in our Lord, Jesus Christ?
MWAS: I believe in strong Wi-Fi and honest people.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Then you are lost.
MWAS: Yet, here I am, saving your laptop’s soul.
(Babu snickers.)
MWAS (surprised): Aiii! Apostle, these files…eh! You are a very…curious man of God.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: What do you mean?
MWAS: Apostle…should I say it out loud? Or do we let the Lord judge in silence?
(Apostle jumps from his seat, sweating profusely.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: It is…it’s my nephew! He borrows my laptop! He has demons!
BABU: Didn’t you say you lived alone?
(A moment of silence. The Bodyguard and Mwas exchange glances.)
MWAS: Eish! Your nephew has expensive taste…These videos are in ultra HD!
(Apostle Mwamburi claps his hands in prayer.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Mwenyezi Mungu! Deliver my household from temptation!
(A moment of silence. The laptop hums. Apostle dabs his forehead with a silk handkerchief. Babu grins. Mwas casually clicks through files, whistling.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (voice trembling): Young man, do not be led astray by the devil’s trickery. Close your eyes, let me pray for you.
MWAS (clicking): Mmmh. Maybe after I finish clearing your… Sorry, your nephew’s browsing history?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: I insist. Let us pray. Dear God, cover my son with your blood.
MWAS (interrupting): After seeing all these clips, I think He should not just cover me with His blood, but His temperature, too.
(Apostle lurches forward, attempting to slam the laptop shut. Mwas expertly dodges, spinning the device away.)
MWAS: Relax, Apostle! I am here to serve. Isn’t that what ministry is about?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (panicked): That laptop holds sacred work! Sacred, I tell you!
BABU: Sacred work in Ultra HD?
(A hush. Even the Bodyguard stops checking his phone and looks up.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (clutching his chest): This is persecution! Persecution of the righteous! You cannot humiliate a servant of God like this!
MWAS: (raising an eyebrow) Humiliate? Who said anything about humiliation? Si we just share the good news? Maybe even during Sunday service?
(Apostle Mwamburi gasps, pointing a trembling finger.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: Satan’s agent! You have been sent by the devil himself.
(A tense silence. Apostle paces dramatically, hands clasped in ‘holy’ agony. Babu watches, smirking. Mwas continues typing, unbothered.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (suddenly inspired): The devil is a liar! He has infiltrated technology to test the faithful!
MWAS (casually): Or maybe it’s just…your own doing?
(A tense pause. Apostle breathes deeply, recomposing himself.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (Pointing aggressively): Watch yourself, heathen! The Lord smites mockers!
MWAS: He does? Because right now, it looks like the only thing getting smitten is your internet history.
(Apostle grabs his golden cross, dramatically kissing it for some kind of extra protection. The Bodyguard looks away, pretending he sees nothing.)
BABU (Laughing): Apostle, relax. Mwas is just joking. (Beat) Right, Mwas?
MWAS (Deadpan): Of course. Who would dare suggest a man of God would… (He pauses, squinting at the screen) oh? What’s this?
(Apostle Mwamburi lunges toward him, but the Bodyguard holds him back.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (agitated): Let go of me, you…you muscle-man!
MWAS (grinning): Apostle, Apostle, Apostle…you have a very interesting subscription list here. Ah, see? (clicks) A whole year’s worth. Paid in full! Hallelujah!
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: I rebuke, in Jesus name!
BABU (leaning in): Eish, Mwas, let me see. Maybe it’s Bible study videos.
MWAS (mockingly): Ah, yes. Very spiritual. These thumbnails alone would bring a man to his knees…in prayer, of course!
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (breathing heavily): Shut it down! Shut it all down! This is the devil’s work! The devil has hacked my machine!
BABU: Apostle, it even says, ‘Thank you for your continued support.’ Surely, the devil wouldn’t be that polite!
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: You think you are clever, don’t you? You and your blasphemous ways! But I tell you—
MWAS (interrupting): You tell us what? That Satan personally logged into your laptop, subscribed, entered your card details, and confirmed the payment? Alaa, Apostle, let’s be serious!
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (weakly): It…it must have been my nephew! He’s a growing adolescent with hormone demons, you know?
BABU (chuckling): Your nephew and his “hormone demons” have access to your credit card details?
(A tense silence. Apostle Mwamburi dabs his forehead furiously. The Bodyguard clears his throat, suddenly deeply interested in the ceiling.)
MWAS (leaning back): Apostle, no need to panic. See, I can make all of this disappear. No one has to know.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (suspicious): Disappear? How?
MWAS: For a small tithe, of course. (grinning) Consider it…an offering for discretion.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (clutching his cross): How dare you blackmail a man of God?
MWAS: Blackmail? No, no, no! Just a small appreciation for my ministry. After all, the Lord loves a cheerful giver!
(Babu bursts out laughing. The Bodyguard snorts but quickly straightens up.)
BABU: Apostle, maybe we take this as a lesson. You know, “he who is without sin” and all that?
MWAS (closing the laptop): Should we let the congregation judge? I’m sure they’d be very interested in what their tithes are funding.
(Apostle Mwamburi glares at Mwas, then at Babu, then at the heavens, searching for divine intervention. None comes.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (resigned): How much?
MWAS (grinning): Now we’re talking, Apostle. What exactly are you proposing?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (lowering his voice): A blessing, my son. A great blessing for you. Let us reason together, as the Good Book says.
MWAS (raising an eyebrow): Aha. And what would this “blessing” look like?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (quickly): Anything you want! Just name it. A car? A plot of land? A…(pauses, eyes shifting) a financial breakthrough?
MWAS: You’re always preaching about charity, Apostle. About helping the needy. About building the Kingdom.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (suspicious): Yes…
MWAS: So let’s do exactly that. Every cent from the building fund, every single one, goes to the poor. Food drives, school fees, medical aid. The whole community benefits.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (stunned): W-what? You…you want me to give it all away?!
MWAS: No, not me. The Lord. (smirking) Isn’t it His money?
BABU: (laughing) Amen!
(A stunned silence. Apostle stiffens. Babu’s eyes widen slightly.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (stammering): That is such an absurd request.
MWAS (casually): Oh, I just thought since you are a man of God, you’d love to see the money actually help people instead of, you know…financing unholy desires.
BABU (mock gasp): Oh no! Apostle, surely you’re not hesitating?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (voice shaking): You don’t understand. That money is meant for…
BODYGUARD (cutting him off): A cathedral bigger than Solomon’s? Please. We both know you were about to buy a new Mercedes.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (furious): You fat-muscled, back-stabbing liar!
MWAS: So…what’s it going to be, Apostle?
(Apostle swallows hard, eyes darting between Mwas, Babu, and the Bodyguard. He licks his lips nervously.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (desperate): But…but the congregation expects a cathedral!
MWAS: And won’t it be a beautiful one? Built in the hearts of the people, where it truly matters. Imagine the headlines: “Apostle Mwamburi, A Man of the People!”
BABU (clapping): Wah! The press will love you!
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (hesitating): But…
MWAS (softly): Or we can share other headlines. About the good Apostle’s Ultra HD taste.
(Apostle’s face drains of colour. The room falls silent.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI: My son, we are all sinners. Even you. Even Babu. (pointed look at Babu) But the Lord teaches us about redemption.
MWAS (nodding): Mmmh. How convenient. Speaking of which…how much has the church raised for this cathedral?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (nervous): That…that information is confidential.
MWAS: Oh, but I bet Babu here knows. Right, Babu?
BABU (grinning): To the last coin.
MWAS: And tell me, Babu, how much of that has been used for, you know, actual building?
(Silence. Apostle coughs dramatically, stalling.)
BABU (mock surprise): Oh, you mean the cathedral? Not the luxury car fund?
MWAS (whistles): Wah! And here I thought the Lord’s house was under construction, but…it is the Apostle’s garage expanding?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (clutching his cross): My son, be careful with your words! Accusations can destroy reputations!
MWAS (scoffs): Only if the accusations are false.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (calmer, forced smile): Young man, the Lord is merciful. He sees our flaws, our human weaknesses, and He forgives. That is the beauty of salvation.
MWAS: Mmmh. How manipulative.
BABU (grinning): A God who forgives intentional Ultra HD sins? Wah, this salvation is elite!
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (stern): Mock not the anointed, Babu. Remember what happened to the boys who laughed at Prophet Elisha? A bear devoured them!
MWAS (laughs): Eish! Then we are lucky. No bears in Kenya, just fast Wi-Fi and a very active and curious congregation that may want to know what their dear Apostle does in his free time.
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (whispering): You wouldn’t dare.
MWAS: Try me.
(A long beat. Apostle looks at the Bodyguard desperately, who is suddenly very interested in his fingernails. Finally, he exhales, defeated.)
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (muttering): Fine.
MWAS (cheerful): Sorry? What was that?
APOSTLE MWAMBURI (gritting his teeth): Fine. I will…redistribute the funds.
MWAS: Now that’s the spirit of giving! See, Apostle? We didn’t even need a miracle. Just a little…persuasion.
(Apostle slumps in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Mwas stands, clapping his hands together.)
MWAS: Well, gentlemen, I believe my work here is done. Babu, let’s go find a cold soda to celebrate this blessing.
BABU (laughing): Ah, truly, the Lord works in mysterious ways!
(They exit, leaving a defeated Apostle Mwamburi clutching his golden cross like a life raft. The Bodyguard finally looks up, shaking his head.)
BODYGUARD (smirking): So, Apostle…Did you think I wouldn’t find out that you have been flirting with my wife and asked her to one of your nasty spiritual counsels?
CURTAIN
Doreen Masika (she/her) is a writer, filmmaker & poet rooted in Kilifi, Kenya and shaped at Daystar University, Nairobi. Her work ranges from surreal to intimate with appearances in Flash Fiction Online, Isele Magazine, Kalahari Review, Afrocritik, Qwani and elsewhere. She co-wrote the psychological thriller Run Mary Run (2023).
*Image by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
