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Is there anyone who knows how the prodigal son felt when he came back home?
Well, I do, or at least I claim to know.
Last Sunday, was my first time in church in six years. Six years punctuated by sin and bouts of holiness. Though in between I attended mass on Christmas, weddings and funerals, but that doesn’t count- so they say.

So on Sunday the, 11th I was convinced half heartedly to attend mass. The kind of service that is beamed all over the nation on national TV. I thought church was a subdued affair but I was shocked otherwise.

First, none of the songs being sang connected with me, and the large projector displaying the lyrics did not help. I was totally clueless!
There was none of the “mungu yu mwema” stuff, in stead there was a full band and choir. Singing in a peculiar twang’.
I am naturally not one to get surprised by things. But the praise and worship session blew me away! The spirit literally came down and carried the worshippers away. Leaving them speaking in a language that didn’t sound legal to me!

Then came the pastor, a white old man from Trinidad who looked like Dr. Yusuf Dawood.
His accent only amused me further and each time he paused I silently whispered ‘yah mon!’ and more than once I actually blurted out ‘irie!’ This though, greatly angered my host, who expected manna to fall down anytime into her handbag a reward for getting me to church.

Since I am of generous spirit, the offering bit wasn’t unbearable to me. But I again had to go against my upbringing. Offering to me always constituted of coins, but no one around me had given anything short of a note with three zeros. Humbly, I did the same.

At the end of the service, I managed to recite the first three lines of the lords prayer and mumbled to the end! The guy to my right didn’t say a word. The first time he opened his mouth I was hit by the smell of stale vodka. His wife glared at him and he didn’t dare defy her.

Later, as I walked to my local, I felt as if I had been away for ages. So I sat down with my cold beer and smiled.
Nothing defines the feeling of a cold tusker and newly acquired blessings. That my friends, is the prodigal son effect!!

4 comments:

NITO said...

Dude!its quite amazing coz as immotals craze for the shortest way to heaven you on the other hand is laying your grand entry into hell!its all in the mind, so they say but believ you me with the fall of the 16th tusker beer on the table,so will be your fate coz you will be sitting on the right hand side of Amin Dada in hell!enjoy

wes said...

nice one...
so you know...my immortal soul too, is searching for its own heaven..
thanks for the comment

faye said...

Dude! You must have compound eyes otherwise how did you notice the lady who was staring at her hubby? who told you they were together leave alone they were a man and wife?
How did you notice the amount people were offering?.......................
I also heard the preacher was not that old, his first born is only 45years!
Thumbs up for the person who convinced you to go to church ,we wouldnt have such an amazing story to read if it werent for her/him

wes said...

...i will forever be indebted to that person who took me to church.
thank you very much, you...