Top government official narrates getting stranded in the U.S, saved by a Kenyan businessman

Dr. Ezekiel Mutua, MBS is the Chief Executive Officer of the Kenya Film Classification Board. Miracles do still happen. There are things that have happened in my life and I knew for sure that was God. I have told this story here before but fb has just brought back the memories. It's a true story.In 2007 I got stranded in a place called Salem, Massachusetts, in the United States. Now Salem is also known as "The City of Witches". Though not too far from the prestigious Harvard University, Salem is a beautiful place, but strangely, with sign posts on the roads announcing "The City of Witches." So it's a place you wouldn't want to be stranded in. I had been sent there for a course by Kopiken, a copyright organisation in which I served as the Chair here in Kenya.By a strange twist of fate, my organization miscalculated my per diem as we thought that the conference organizers would bear the accommodation costs. I had left Nairobi with only pocket money, but come the closing day of the training, I discovered I had to foot the accommodation bill as well. It turned out I would have a deficit of $600 after paying every penny I had in my pocket.I made frantic calls to Nairobi to request my company to clear the bill but was told it would require the board approval and the earliest they could meet was after three days. Calling Kenya from the US for official business can be cumbersome; when you are waking up in Kenya, people are going to sleep in the US, and vice versa. I was stuck. My integrity was at stake. The only option left for me was to plead with the conference organisers to bail me out, but that was a very embarrassing prospect. I decided to pray about the matter before talking to anyone.I remembered the Scripture that "the prayer of a righteous man availeth much. . ." In the middle of a prayer on a Saturday evening a call came through in my hotel room. The man on the line was so excited to have reached me. His joy was almost palpable. In a deep Black American accent he introduced himself to me as "Phares Kariuki Wa Kimungu". I actually heard his last name as "Mungu" and was trembling in awe until he explained that he was from Kiambu and had been given my details by one of the conference organisers.He had heard that I was an accomplished media professional, and used to facilitate training for aspiring Members of Parliament. Since he wanted to return to Kenya and vie for Githunguri constituency Member of Parliament in the General Elections later that year, he badly needed my services as a consultant and would pay anything to get me to stay for two more weeks in the US to help him design his campaign strategy.After almost an hour of telephone conversation about my "busy schedule" back home, I agreed to his request. God had answered my prayer. The following morning a huge sleek car pulls into my hotel compound. A big dark man jumps out and after a few minutes my phone rings. It is Kimungu!After exchanging pleasantries he came to my room and helped me to check out. I was still in a dilemma how to handle the bills. But Kimungu was leading the way and upon getting to the reception he quickly removed a visa card and told the receptionist "I want to pay for my guest." And just like that my bill was settled in full. We got into a sleek machine that resembled Obama's Beast and drove to Kimungu's posh home in Boston. On arrival Kimungu would call my airline and change my ticket back to Nairobi at his cost, then hand me some $1000 dollars as a deposit for the inconvenience of rescheduling my return home, as we negotiated the consultancy fee. I was not only saved from an eminent pecuniary embarrassment, but was suddenly being treated with awe and reverential respect like the Mayor in Nikolai Gogol's Government Inspector.