Blessed Virgin Merry

Ecstasy of St. Theresa
Ecstasy of St. Theresa

I was beatified on the same day Sister Irene ‘Nyaatha’ Stefani became ‘Blessed’. While Blessed Irene Stefani began her journey to sainthood, I began mine to slut-hood. The only thing I share with Blessed Irene Stefani is Roman Catholicism and seven-frilled habits. Habits are religious cloths you moron, you can say dresses if you are a fashionista, fashion blogger, or are clueless.

While Irene’s beatification was a public ritual, mine was private. An over six-hundred-people-choir sang for Irene’s ceremony in falsetto in a sweet immix of voices, mine was incessant everything but sweet mosquito tunes. Not that I enjoyed it, I cursed the senseless Mother Superior of my Order throughout for her tough stance on things of comfort like mosquito nets. She insists that we should suffer throughout our lives even to the point of risking Anopheles mosquito bites and getting malaria. For her, flagellation, crown of thorns, crucifiction, and all what Jesus went through is much more than being bitten by mosquitoes.

Sitting with my hands on my knobbly knees like a Sunday school six-year-old girl, a holier than thou smokescreen for the shenanigans that was to come, I watched the most handsome man I’ve ever seen undress before me. A distant cousin of Irene. These things run in the family, right? Perhaps in 2105 AD people would flock to Brescia, Turin, Italy for his beatification. The Devil’s Advocate wouldn’t know of this night, what he did with a young virgin Gikuyu novice who couldn’t keep her raging hormones under control and to herself the very day his distant cousin was beatified.

You know, we Gikuyu women are go-getters. The whole day I had plotted how to get one of Sister Irene’s male relatives to break my virginity. It’s not advisable to die a virgin especially if you could end up in a harem of 72 virgins who would be given to terrorists in heaven. Can you imagine how it would feel having sex with a mass murderer, worse still who’s not of your religion?

We were having common dinner after the tiring events of the day. He was seated next to me. I felt his leg slip on to mine but I did not try to dodge it. Instead, I pastiched the Song of Solomon 8:1 – 3; “If only you were to me like a brother, who was nursed at my mother’s breasts! Then, if I sat on you now, I would kiss you, and no one would despise me.  I would lead you from here and take you to my cell, that Mother Superior has forbidden another soul stepping. I would give you what you desire, the feel of warmth betwixt my legs. Your left arm under my head and your right arm fondling my breasts.” Well, he was not expecting that. Talk of being honest, and raw.

It was not difficult to get him to my cell. After all who could suspect what I was up to?

Sex is central in human life. Ever since Moses brought the Ten Commandments down from Mt. Sinai, religion and sex were forever linked as well as separated! ‘Thou shall not commit adultery’.  The seventh commandment addresses the married, so is the ninth commandment. ‘Thou shall not covet your neighbour’s wife’. Nowhere it’s written that sex between us the chosen few is wrong. We are ordained, to partake in the holy of holies, so did God ordain sex as a procreation means. See, it is holy union after Holy Communion, right?

So, welcome to divine sex. Off went my habit. Thanks to him, a man of slow hands. Too slow I felt like he was not that into me. But he was. Being the much sought-after ka-yellow yellow I did not have reservations that I’d be embarrassed of my body. I was just a hue darker than what he was used to.

Then it happened. We intertwined, fondle, and got oral as one. And then I let him get into me. Holy union. Vicar of Christ and nun one. Baptism in semen. The virgin me took the fun, merry actually, of all time.

Where did I get this idea to seduce and have sex with Blessed Irene Stefani’s cousin? From terrorists. They are wreaking terror in Kenya from Lamu and Mombasa through Nairobi to Garissa and the whole of the North Eastern province so they could have sex with their voluptuous, big breasted virgins in heaven. I fit the Koranic description of their houri, only that I don’t know whether they would accept to have Christian houris. But when I am in doubt, I don’t take chances. So, I am not the Great Prostitute of Babylon.

However, there is a problem. The baptism in semen transformed me to something else. As I drenched in the holy liquids and as they seeped into my body, I felt life beginning, taking form in me. First, leaving the hospices of the church is a no-no. And biting the hand that feeds me is a crime. So, I can’t disgrace the church. That’s why I have decided to abort.

I can’t take people for a fool by giving birth and claim that I did not know that I was pregnant like that Italian nun who still thinks that we fell for her gambit that Immaculate Conception could happen, if not at all, to her. We can pretend to believe the story of the Mary of the Bible; we were not there and no one seems ready to think like a woman, but somebody who’s denied sex by her career in the church and happened to have a one nightstand and conceived from the tryst is a disgusting liar.

So, I will abort. Not because it is common practice amongst us women who men fantasize throughout but can’t get, only the ordained chosen few enjoy our goodies, but because I have my reservations. I could give birth to a terrorist he go around wearing suicide vests carrying Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) launchers killing and bombing people. He could be a street urchin who’d forever forage and scavenge for food with vultures, blowflies, dogs, and crows. He could be a drug baron he sell his drugs to youths and turn them to vegetables forever. He could be a serial rapist, killer, or both; or he could be another ‘Vampire of Naivasha’. Or I could give birth to the Great Prostitute of Babylon who’d display her loose body and booty and kill many able men who could be soldiers in defence of our country. She could be a jihad bride she start seraglios of seventy-two times seventy-two virgins in Eastleigh and California, Nairobi for her terrorist friends. Or she could be the reincarnation of Samantha Lewthwaite.

And above all, my pregnancy my choice, right?

 

© Elove Poetry, 2015. All rights reserved.



22 thoughts on “Blessed Virgin Merry” by elovepoetry (@elovepoetry)

  1. Hmmm! @elovepoetry wetin dey ur mind? Nobody forced you into the convent and now, u wanna make anoda man to commit sin? loool. If I was a Rev. Father (though I never wished to be one), I would need nuns like you around me, at least, the life for convent go sweet die. Afterall, I wonder why people put themselves in perpertual bondage of self denial for a show of sacredness and its not like God expressly commanded celibacy but only permitted sex within the confines of marriage.

    1. @mcsnol, @gmoney… Thank you for reading. Perpetual bondage in self-denial of God ordered practices and ordained rituals like sex are one’s choice catalyst being the all time religious tirade and indoctrination. If people could think beyond what life teaches them, what folks tell them even about religion, they wouldn’t end up in cells they wish they never entered in the first place.

  2. Rhoiy (@Roy-journals)

    Wow! I honestly don’t know else to put this. This is just wow! Whew!

    1. @Roy-journals thank you for your reading, and comment.

  3. the tongue-in-cheek approach you took in writing this story worked perfectly. Well done, but sha nobody send you go become nun oh

    1. @Folakemi, you are right. There is always a choice, but do we really have it. Since we are born we are taught how to live, in the end our lives become what has been handed down to us over the years.

  4. I totally fell in love with the way you write. I wonder where the inspiration to write this came from…Nuns or nun, you wowed me.
    I still wonder why some ladies decide to take the lonely path of nunship though. I might need to google that up. You did well with this. Lest I forget noone’s answered the question yet. @elovepoetry Go tell her wherever she stays, whether in the confines of the cathedral or in the abode of hungry mosquitoes, the pregnancy is hers but the choice is not. Pregnancy is not an option. She wants sex, freedom; deliver the baby and get kicked out. Simple. Freedom attained.

    Well done.

    1. @praize, I get my inspiration to write this way from the life around me, the need to revoke vices while at the same time entertaining. I am not a serious literature person, and in the court of them serious literature judges I will always be guilty of something because serious literature restrains, has rules….

      Well, in the end the choice is hers, whether to kill the baby or not. Point is, we are told not to abort, someone ever thought how harsh this world is, when you bring that kid to world hot s/he would suffer, or bring suffering?

  5. louis (@luwizdrizzy)

    @mcsnol that’s was exactly what came out of my mouth (oh boy) (if you ask me,na who I go ask??)

  6. louis (@luwizdrizzy)

    @elovepoetry this is just amazing,and you made me to imagine things in my head (though I imagine lots of stupid things)lol. This is a lovely piece

    1. Come on @luwizdrizzy, let it out. What sort of stupid things?

      Thank you for your comment, and reading.

  7. I’m passing o. I never reach 18yrs.

    Nice one there @elovepoetry

    1. Thank you @Chime221, you mean you are still underage?

      1. Na the thing o! I’m still a small boy
        But seriously, the narration is great.

  8. You sef, @elovepoetry, wet in carry you go convent.
    And again the Koran did not promise any virgin to terrorist abeg.
    I have never understood why some people choose to be nuns or fadas, I mean no holy prohibits sex na, a beg o I tire.
    Nice write up, your title and cover pix sef.

    1. @ameenaedrees, thank you for your reading and commenting. It is such a sad state of our religions that people just get into them without interrogating the teachings, and that’s my message.

      You won’t believe me, but I know that the Koran doesn’t promise virgins to anyone, whatever is written can be misintepretted to mean anything by any gullible persons; so is in Christianity, or any other religion.

      Just to let you in, I spoof religious texts to make my writing seem controversial, and interesting, to bring in a new angle but in between the lines is the message I want to pass.

      And I am not religious, but I am spiritual (I believe in some god), and whenever you see something that might rub the wrong way with you, know that invoking the holy book and the wrath of your god won’t work on me because, I don’t believe in them.

  9. I would directly ask if this is a subtle shot at the Roman Catholic Church and her doctrines?
    Or would it be a shot at the Virgin Mary?

    Whilst I am irritated and possibly a little disgusted at the not-so-veiled snigger at the perpetual virginity of the Mother of God’s own son (God Himself), I must confess that this is a well written work.
    Expressive words and great use of language.

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    1. @Theo, It is neither a shot at Roman Catholic or the Blessed Virgin Mary but at individuals who join the Church for personal interests, blindly, and utterly confused.

      And I am not sniggering at the ‘Mother of God’ but the subtext is not people not having the ‘balls’ to question the details of this ‘God’ they so much believe in, just as the devil is in the details, so is god in the details people don’t question because the fear of hell has been instilled in them.

      1. Thanks for your reply.
        It is my firmest belief that Faith, hand-in-hand, with humility causes us to ‘believe’ without over-questioning. After all, exhaustive, seemingly independent-minded questions have not yet provided the answers to why things are ‘believed’ to be what they are.

        The fear of hell never saves, neither does the love of heaven… Faith alone and good works, nicely added, saves.

        Of course, the independently thinking type is not in need of salvation.

        I enjoyed the read nonetheless as it was well crafted. Thank you

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        1. @Theo, you have said something to raise my antennae. Faith, yes, it behind every belief. However, if I get @elovepoetry right, the fear of hell instilled in people makes them steer their behaviour towards what’s desirable and what would guarantee a trouble-free life, heaven. No love of heaven is greater than fear of hell.

          However, as you said, independent thinking do not need saving. I love Plato’s allegory of the cave. That’s where it starts.

          1. @vincentdepaul, I think we should leave it that we might not troll elovepoetry’s thread. Thanks, Vincent.

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