On the drive back home neither father nor daughter said anything. She was too ashamed to say anything and he was too upset. He wondered where he had gone wrong. Was he not the greatest preacher to come out of Zambia? Did not God himself live in his house? How then could this wickedness happen right under his very nose? He was grateful Mwansa had let him deal with it in his own way. He owed him quite a lot. As young men they had grown up together. They had gone to the same school and at one time they had dated from the same household, at the same time. To everyone else he was Pastor Bwalya but to Mwansa he was Jake.

Mwansa had been the one to encourage him to follow his heart and do what he thought was good for him.Against his parents wishes he had gone to Bible College rather than become an engineer, which was what he had originally studied. Every one had believed that he had wasted five of his years at the University, but those years had opened his eyes. He now believed what people had always said about the University- no one could claim to have attended university if he came out with the same outlook as when he went in.

He parked the car in silence and when he got into the house; his wife and Natasha were anxiously waiting for him. One look and his wife knew that a storm was about to hit the household.

'Natasha, go to your room.'

'But mum.'

'Natasha, do as your mother says.'

For the first time Natasha really looked at her father and what she saw frightened her. Obediently she went to her room. Precious sheepishly walked into the house.

'Go on. Tell mummy what you have been up to. What's the matter? Have you lost your tongue?'

'Ba shi Natasha please.'

'Shut up woman. You are probably the one who has been encouraging your daughter to be behaving like this. Look at the shame she has brought to this family. What sort of mother are you?'

'Suddenly it is my fault.'

'Are you saying that I 'm responsible? Damn it woman! You fail to discipline your daughter and so you want to shift the blame. I 'm not a violent man but you and your daughter are tempting me.' His hands had clenched into fists. The fire was raging out of control.

He raised his hands and just as suddenly dropped them. He appeared to be praying. Without saying a word he left the room.

He was gone a full ten minutes. His wife sat there looking at her daughter and shaking her head. She couldn't believe that this was happening to her family.

'Precious, what is all this nonsense? How can you sit there in silence? What is this that you have done? How did you ever manage to go out wearing that outfit? Is that what you mean by going out to study? What have you been studying? Prostitution?'

Bwalya walked in carrying a suitcase.

'Ba shi Natasha, don't do this.'

'Shut up woman or you will join your harlot of a daughter. Now as far as I am concerned I have no daughter. You will leave this house and where you go is up to you. I never want to see your ugly face again.'

'Ba shi Natasha please don't do this. How can you do this to your own daughter? Does your being a pastor matter more than your daughter?' She began sobbing and so did her daughter.