Skip to main content

My-Once Molly (Sunday Preaching),

 





































Hi Molly. Hope you are good. So, hurting from your Sunday kind of lovin’, I went to church. You remember how Sunday afternoons were special? Me and you finding exciting places to see, savouring fresh tastes that were newly discovered culinary delights… walking down the aisle that was the jacaranda leaves in autumn as the sun danced on your cheeks and lips…

So, my body was in church, but my spirit was elsewhere… Sunday afternoons as your loose blouse conspired with the whispering wind as we hiked the Ngong Hills, the teasing peek of ebony skin underneath… I know, I know. I shouldn’t be thinking these things in the holy precincts of church.

Anyway, it’s like the preacher hear my unholy thoughts. His sermonin’, the book of Samuel… How the Lord called Samuel three times, with him waking up Eli. At last, Eli asked him to answer. This preacher, lovely stories, he tells. Asks us married folks if we planned them babies or they just happened.

Samuel and his parents, he tells. They had trouble getting a child and people were talking, as they always do when married folks aren’t getting kids. So, they pray – maybe fast – if they were coloured like us. Anyway, they get a baby boy, straightly ship him to the House of the Lord. That’s where he get his callin’.

The preacher, he asks, what brings us to church? He is new – visiting. Says, the choir is all lovely, the drumming lending a soulful taste to the proceedings. Is this what brings some of us to church? To enjoy a moment of livery in our otherwise humdrum lifin’? He would come to our church for this.

Them married folks, he asks, do they come to church to forgot their quarrels? He then tells this story. That he had a dog, Tommy, his name. So, there he is on his farm, Tommy for company. Tommy, charming dog he is, he has all the neighbours’ dogs around for a good play.

Tommy, he sees a rabbit far-away and gives chase. Simba, Tiger, Jack… Tommy’s friends, they are soon chasing after him, though they can’t see the rabbit. Up and down, Tommy chases for a lovely snack… soon after, the others tire and give up on the hilly section. Is this how we live our lives? Without purpose? Without a calling?

Anyway, Molly, I felt personally attacked and didn’t give offering this Sunday. Petty of me, I know, but love does make a man do petty things. Anyway, after church service, I went back to the house, my heart pained by your absence and I did a piece. Hope you’ll get to hear it someday.

Again, I still have my book launches to do in February. The news is bleak… out of a total of Kshs 100,000 for the two launches: ‘A Funeral Dress for Nyasuguta’ and ‘Love Told, Poetry Souled, Family Bold.’ I’ve raised a wonderful Kshs 300 in total through my ‘#20BobSanaa.’ Maybe, I should pray very hard like Samuel’s parents for a miracle… The miracle can happen by you donating here:

Buy Goods Till Number: 9080911, Gatere Mwangi
Send Money: 0708 276 622, Mark Gatere

My Once-Molly, I miss you… that’s my signing out. Hope the piece below will convey what the preacher said, love, dreams, and all:

Your beat? Your dance?

The orchestra picks up, the beat strong
On the dance floor waltzing, you belong
Gaiety all around, you spin and tap along
Steps, chimes, flirting and  swirling to the gong.

But, is this beat  of your choosing?
Are the steps – quick - your making?
Are you dancing the life of another
This trip embarked, are you lost a sojourner?

Do you hear the music or yours is mime
Do you hear the echo or yours is hollow
Do you lead or you’ve been seconded to follow
When it ends, do you say – that song was mine?

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

#20BobSanaa

  With a heavy heart, having cried my heart out, I let go. Of these dear books with many a memory. This to support my book launches. Gladden, though, for they are on offer for as low as Kshs 20 – 20bob (exclusive of delivery costs): 1.        Betrayal in The City 320 2.        Paper Doll 320 3.        Royal Scandals 320 4.        Poems from East Africa 320 5.        Mimba Ingali Mimba 220 6.        Half a Day and Other Stories 120 7.        Kitumbua Kimeingia Mchanga 320 8.        Walenisi 420 9.        Horn of My Love 220 10.    Mayai Waziri wa Maradhi 120 11.    Brisinger 520 12.    Cabal 320 13.    The Patriot Game 320 14.    The Resurre...
Post a Comment
Read more

Gossip this morning

 I heard this morning, that… The price of unga, is about to go up I heard this morning, that the price of unga, is coming down I heard this morning, that the government, it has banned, unga Perhaps, the speaker meant, burnt Either way, our bellies, they burn Some, of hunger Others, belly full. I heard mid-morning, that, oil, is scarce Or, for cars, the speaker, he mumbled about. I heard mid-morning, that, he has passed us Or, the pastor, is us The messiah, he plays games. I heard in the afternoon, the government, is broke The weather, out of order The war, just In my afternoon, there was no peace. In the evening, I held counsel My ears, blocked with wax My eyes, blinded in tears My tongues, stilled in fury These things, they are not for me Screams of - baby Isak Shrieks of - Fatuma Howls of – Abdi Bombs, play toys Up above, silver streaks The rain, violent For a Utopia, the soldier man.
Post a Comment
Read more

My-Once Molly (thinking of Valentine),

My-Once Molly… the girl who broke my heart, the one who got away, the one who promised me the world and left me to survive alone – typical of our Kenyan politicians… I hope you are good. Now, as February – the month of love – lurks about, I find myself thinking of you. Thing is, my dear Molly, I have new neighbours. A young couple, very much in love like we once were. The young lady, her name is Val… maybe Valentine… I don’t know. This Val, a spirited girl with rich, deep, heaving laughter - almost like yours. Her smile… ah! You should see it. The shine of the morning sun distilling the dew upon cool meadows… I am totally in love with her. Alarmingly, she teases me much and I am getting ideas… Molly, dear, wherever you are, please pray for me… the temptation is too much. If you don’t, the frail creature that I am may fall. This, despite having numerous songs in my playlist to warn me. Invariably, Majengo – that infamous locale – does a dishonourable appearance in most of them… ‘Maj...
Post a Comment
Read more