All Grown Up

PenSieve has grown up and become Xpensiev....  so I won't post on this site anymore. See you there!

Bird In The Kitchen

Yesterday morning a bird flew into my kitchen. It wasn’t a big bird, it was one of those small sweet brown birds that are common to Dar-es-Salaam and at first it didn’t bother me. But after a bit, the bird’s panicked fluttering got to me, and well, it was dropping bird pellets all over the room, so I tried waving my arms at it to shoo it out, but, jamaani, I’m a little short and the Kitchen ceiling is high, and BB (BROWN BIRD) just checked me out from way up there like I was a nutty woman and entertainment for him. Eventually, I got a broom and holding it upside down with my arms held up over my head, I waved the broom around in the air, trying to guide BB back-out through the open door.

This at first just resulted in me chasing BB all over the Kitchen, me getting tired and irritated at this unwanted cardio-exercise first thing in the morning, BB just panicking and fluttering ever more wildly round and round my Kitchen coz he just didn’t get it – infact, he kept flying straight into the glass panel above the Kitchen door instead of ducking and flying OUT through the wide open door. Anyway, eventually, at the point when my arms were screaming in pain, BB ducked his head and flew out the door into freedom, back to where he belonged.

As I put the broom down and rested my achy-achy arms, I thought, ‘hey, this is what the Lord goes through for us!’

You see, we often fly full speed into situations and rooms where we shouldn’t be.

And we settle, for a time. Then we realize that , hey, we’re in the wrong place, and although, as Believers, we’re not on the ground slithering with the snakes, we’re up there flying on Eagles Wings, we’re still in the WRONG PLACE.  And at the back of our minds, we wonder, why is the Lord making us uncomfortable here? So, we watch Him, we’re entertained by God stuff, in our Churches, in our homes, we entertain ourselves with Christian TV, Christian Radio, Christian Books, CCM, Christian Friends, we watch God.

Then, God moves, and the question in our minds becomes: Why is it that it feels like every time I settle onto a perch, the Lord waves a broom at me to get out of here? It could be anything – like being in the wrong job and nothing is going right despite all your talents, your drive, your enthusiasm and your God Entertainments. It could be a project that you’ve volunteered for and you’ve thrown in money and time and your entire SELF into, but it’s still not coming together and you’re unsettled. It could be a good deed gone wrong somehow, whatever situation it is, the Lord is waving that broom under you and trying to guide you out, shoo you out, of that room – but, you keep flying full speed into the window above the door and bashing your brains out in utter frustration. You finally get-it, understand fully what the Lord is whispering to you, or shouting to you, you finally realize that you’re flying in the wrong room, but every single time you make a panicked move to leave, you’re still trying to fly out through the glass panel above the door.

At one point I seriously felt sorry for BB. How long, I wondered, before he got IT? DUCK DUDE, bend your head, lower yourself, fly LOWer!!

For the The Key to flying out of our confinement is humility. The bible says in Deuteronomy 8:3
 He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.

So, we are flying High on our ‘we are Believers’ belief, often forgetting that we should live our lives, lead our lives, not on the fact that we’re saved  and sanctified, but on EVERY WORD THAT COMES FROM THE MOUTH OF THE LORD. That’s a lot of Bible Reading.

The Bible also promises us in 2 Samuel 22:28 that ‘You save the humble, but your eyes are on the haughty to bring them low’. I went into my dictionary, and found out the meaning of ‘humble’:

humble |ˈhəmbəl|

adjective ( humbler , humblest )

1 having or showing a modest or low estimate of one's own importance : he was humble about his stature as one of rock history's most influential guitarists.

• (of an action or thought) offered with or affected by such an estimate of one's own importance : my humble apologies.

Note to self: I have stature as a Child of the Living God, but in my thoughts and deeds, I should show a modest or low estimate of my own importance. My goodness! That’s a tough call!! Ama? It means listening to a lot of people who may be far less talented than I am, or may be my junior, or may earn less than me, or may be of a different race or country, or simply being humble to people I actively dislike…

And it especially means being Humble to the Lord.

But if I do not, if we do not, humble ourselves before the Lord and our fellow Christians, then we shall be like that Bird In My Kitchen, forever bashing our heads against the clear glass panel above the open door, wondering why we’re not settled. A promise from God is that, when we duck, and only when we duck our heads, will many of our frustrations cease and we can fly out of our frustrating confining boundaries and out into the freedom that the Lord really really wants us to be in.

And remember, He’s as frustrated as we are by our confinement. Just as you would be if you had a bird in your kitchen. So, if you feel the Lord waving a broom around under you, keep 2 Chronicles 7:14 in mind:

2 Chronicles 7:14  If my people, who are called by my name,

will humble themselves and pray and seek my face 

and turn from their wicked ways,

 then I will hear from heaven, 

and I will forgive their sin 

and will heal their land.

Nyakio Munyinyi © 2012

The Old Man

An  old old tale is told, of an equally old but sprightly missionary who began a small mission on a perpetually misty, cold and isolated mountain-top deep in the heart of Africa. Dedicated and full of faith, he engaged the help of five strong young converts and set to building a beautiful church in the Mission Compound that would seat 500. Alas, Sunday after Sunday, the old but sprightly missionary would preach to his 5 converts and their families alone. But his faith never failed – he believed that one day soon, every bench and pew would be taken. Thanking the Lord for the 5 converts and their families, he devoted his time joyfully teaching them about God.

Now it happened that every single month on the exact 25^th day, the old but sprightly missionary would travel for 5 days through jungle ,valley, plain and river, through days that were wet and cold, hot, dry and windy, to the nearest ‘post’ – one can hardly call it a town – to buy supplies that would last a month for the Mission Compound.  And so it came to pass that on this particular 25^th day, he packed his mule, said goodbye to his faithful 5 and their families, and set off on his monthly journey. This routine journey to the post being mostly downhill - would take the old missionary man a day and a half. But the return journey - him and his beast being heavily laden – usually required him to spend 3 nights on the trail – for alas! one can hardly call it a road.

As is common in any country or land worldwide, there were, in this place deep in the heart of Africa, a group of 12 bandits, who came into the knowledge – handed out in a dark and dingy watering-hole – one can hardly call it a bar – of the foolish old pale-skinned man who, with no company or protection other than his donkey, would travel for 5 days through jungle, valley, plain and river, through days that were wet and cold, hot, dry and windy, to the nearest ‘post’ deep in the heart of Africa.

Sensing easy prey, the 12 bandits set it upon themselves to travel to the post to see for themselves the truth – or lie- of this knowledge. Lo and behold! On the 26^th day, an old pale-skinned man arrived riding on the back of an equally old donkey, into the bustling market place. The bandits, as instructed by their leader, spied upon the unsuspecting  old but sprightly missionary man as he approached vendor after vendor in the market-place,  buying  and placing  his huge purchases on the back of the poor old donkey.

Finally, at sunset, the 12 bandits followed the old missionary man to a cheap lodging, where he paid for a stall and feed for his donkey and a room for himself. Early on the silent morning of the next day, while the mists from the river still swirled in the one street and deserted spooky market place, while stray dogs scavenged for scraps of rotting meats and food, while beautiful cockerels raised their crowned heads and called out towards the unseen rising sun, the bandits huddled in their dark cloaks, carefully gathered together and followed from afar the old missionary man as he left the lodging and made his way to the trail – alas! one can hardly call it a road – that led towards his Mission Compound.

The first part of the old missionary man’s journey took him across river and plain, but the 12 bandits did not attack and merely followed, for long ago, after much discussion with their corrupt leader, they had declared never to perform their evil acts of banditry during the day when the Sun ruled the Heavens but instead chose to execute their evil acts under the protective cloak of dark nights, for the bandits were cowardly men despite being in a rude crowd, and were terrified of retribution from local villagers lest they be seen and become marked men. For they lived a lie, pretending to be wealthy merchants and traders.

And so they followed the old missionary man for an entire day as he foolishly walked beside his heavily burdened donkey in the blistering heat of a hot tropical sun, he stopping only for a drink of water, until at the end of the first terrible day, as the sun reluctantly set far to the west in a blazing fiery show of colour, the trail entered the cool dark trees in the valley bottom.  The bandits 12 watched as the old missionary man removed the sacks and baskets from the back of the old donkey, led the donkey to a nearby stream to drink water, watched silently as the man lit a fire to cook his evening meal, then watched him as he prepared his bedroll so as to lay down to sleep.

The bandits 12, under instructions from their evil and corrupt leader, decided that the best time to set upon the old foolish man and take from him all that he had bought from the market-place, all that he carried in his leather pouch tucked into his waist band, and the old donkey - was as he slept, especially that special time as he entered his ‘ third dream’.  Leave the donkey? No! After all, the old foolish man wasn’t even riding it!

So it came to pass that the old man, being totally unaware of the wicked eyes that spied upon his every movement, stood under the stars next to his bedroll, raised his hands and face to the heavens and the stars and uttered words that the bandits did not comprehend - and then proceeded to walk around the campsite in a circle that included the donkey, his purchases and his bedroll. Finally, he threw a small log into the fire, curled himself into his blanket and slept.

Excited, the bandits hid in the bush waiting for the old man to enter his ‘third dream’. Time passed slowly, the nocturnal animals in the jungle around them screaming and screeching out to each other, there – a scream of death as one victorious animal killed its’ meal for the night, a thrashing of branches heavily laden with leaves snapping back into place nearby as something big passed that way slowly, but there in the clearing, all was still and quiet.

As the Bandit Leader slowly arose from his hiding place at the appointed hour, he heard a muffled scream from behind him and to the right. It was one of his men. Quickly crouching down again, the cowardly leader looked at his man and saw that his arm was raised, finger trembling, to the far side of the edge of their little clearing. As the leader looked, his heart began to thud and rock within its cage of bone and sinew, blocking his throat and stopping the scream that lodged there. For on the far side of the clearing stalking towards them was the largest, most terrifying Lion that the Bandit Leader had ever laid  his thieving eyes on. Even the lion’s teeth that his feared Chief back home in the Village had on his opulent necklace did not compare to the size of the teeth that this Lion possessed.

The massive beast roared once at the quaking 12, then marched regally to the old sleeping missionary man who had not stirred, even though the roar was as loud as that of 4 Bull Elephants’ angry trumpet calls. Fear settled and froze solid in the hearts of the bandits as they watched in mounting horror as the Lion ambled to the old sleeping missionary man and sniffed at him. Then lay down beside him. Facing the bandits. What witchery was this?? they whispered amongst themselves in terror?

When the leader made a quick motion to turn and run from these unsettling events, the Majestic beast rose  up and roared once, then lowered its’ head and through the bushes and trees and vines and undergrowth of the jungle, looked right into the eyes of the terrified Bandit Leader in his hiding place. Trembling, the bandit made a motion with his hand, signaling that the 12 must not move. Those eyes! he whispered, they blaze fiercer and brighter than the Sun at Noon, they see into my wicked cowardly soul. We cannot leave!

And so the 12 bandits, hearts cold and frozen and limbs frigid in their terror, spent a wakeful night observing the Majestic beast as he lay next to the sleeping missionary until eons later, the jungle became quiet about them and the first signs of day began to show through the tops of the massive trees.

As the old man began to show signs of wakefulness, the Majestic beast rose, shook himself and walked to the left but towards the group of cowering bandits. As they followed him with the whites of their eyes showing in a terrible fear, the Lion sat on the trail – one can hardly call it a road – directly behind them.

There was no option – they had no way to go but to follow the old but sprightly Missionary Man. So with beating hearts and sore painful eyes that had not once closed the entire night, they watched him as he awoke, washed his face in the cool waters of the tiny stream, pack his burdens onto his donkey, and set off again up the twisting muddy trail – alas, one can hardly call it a road!

The Bandit Leader instructed one of the 12 to watch their rear, and to inform him the moment they were out of sight of the Massive Lion, but word came back that as soon as they set off, the Lion had risen and was following them at a discreet distance. Cold and tired, hungry and thirsty, the 12 bandits followed the slow walking missionary man who led the donkey step by careful step along the wet muddy trail – one can hardly call it………oh, okay, you can finish it yourself??  Thank you, don’t have to type it in….

So, where was I, yes …  aha! … the 12 exhausted bandits had no option but to follow the old missionary man until at the end of a long, weary, wet, muddy and dreary day, darkness slowly overcame the jungle as the unseen sun settled in the west. And it came to pass that before it was dark, the old missionary man found a 2^nd  clearing in which he could pass the night. Once again, as this old tale was told, the bandits 12 watched as the old missionary man removed the sacks and baskets from the back of the old donkey, led the donkey to a nearby stream to drink water, watched silently as the man lit a fire to cook his evening meal, then watched him as he prepared to lay down to sleep. And, as he watched, heart filled with evil, the Bandit Leader decided that this night they would attack  the old missionary as soon as the man lay down, for the Majestic Lion had  disappeared from their back some time during the evening as the shadows in the jungle deepened -  and somehow the Bandit had knowledge from deep in his corrupt lying heart that the terrifying beast would not be back this night.

It was thus that once more, the old man, being totally unaware of the wicked eyes that spied upon his every movement, stood under the stars in the clearing, next to his bedroll, raised his hands and face to the heavens and the stars and uttered words that the bandits did not comprehend and then proceeded to walk around the campsite in a circle that included the donkey, his purchases and his bedroll. Finally, he threw a small log into the fire, curled himself into his blanket and slept.

Immediately, there grew in a circle, up and around the campsite, a wicked thorn bush, so entangled was it, so thick in branch, so sharp and long and filled with poison its’ thorns, that not even the sharpest machete welded by the man with the longest arm could cut away at it. The bandits 12 leaped back, crying in fear, what witchery was this??

Annoyed, weary and hungry, the Bandit Leader commanded the man with the longest arm to weld his machete upon the thorn fence, but alas, the machete shattered into a dozen pieces as soon as it hit the thorn bush, leaving the welder holding only its’ handle. Hurling  it down, the man ran like a terrified hare down the trail – alas! one can hardly call it …. (oh ok) - in a dark and suspicious fear – until he espied the Magnificent lion at the bottom of the trail, lying down and licking its’ paw. The bandit, tall and muscular of build, a hero in his Village and much adored and fawned upon by females of all ages, blubbered like a young babe in its crib and thrashed his way through the jungle, back to his fellow bandits, throwing himself onto the wet stinky jungle floor and begging his gods and ancestors for mercy.

Whereupon the others in the band of bandits did the same,  wailing and screaming for mercy from their unseen gods of the night.  It was thus that the 12 bandits, again cold, frozen and frigid in their terror, spent a wakeful night observing the Majestic beast as he lay on the path behind them and the curiosity of the thorn bush that encircled the sleeping missionary until eons later, the jungle became quiet about them and the first signs of day began to show through the tops of the massive trees and the thorn bush surrounding the man slowly dissolved in the early morning mist arising from the nearby stream.

Once more, as the tale goes, there was no option for the 12 terrified bandits– they had no path forward other than to follow the old albeit sprightly missionary man. So with beating hearts and excruciatingly painful eyes that had not once closed for two nights and a day, they watched him as he woke, washed his face in the cool waters of the tiny stream, pack his burdens onto his Donkey, and set off again up the twisting torturous muddy trail – for alas! one can hardly call it a road – and for the 3^rd time now - after a wet, horrendous day spent barely crawling through the wet, muddy and dreary path - darkness slowly overcame the jungle as the unseen sun settled in the west. And again, it came to pass that before it was dark, the old but sprightly missionary man found a 3^rd  clearing  in which he could pass the night.

Dear Reader, if you were one of the bandits, would you not have given up, climbed a tree and left the old missionary man with his strange witchery alone??

Alas! as this old tale was told, the bandits 12 did not heed the wise readers knowledge and instead watched as the old missionary man removed the sacks and baskets from the back of the old donkey, led the donkey to a nearby stream to drink water, watched silently as the man lit a fire to cook his evening meal, then watched him as he prepared to lay down to sleep. For, his heart filled with evil, the Bandit Leader had decided that on this last night they would attack  the old missionary man before he stood up and uttered his strange words to the Heavens, for it seemed that those words brought a strange and eerie witchery. And the Bandit Leader had no fear in him, because once again, the Majestic Lion had disappeared from their back some time during the evening as the shadows in the jungle deepened -  and somehow the Bandit had knowledge from deep in his corrupt lying heart that the terrifying beast would not be back this night.

So it came to pass that the old man, being totally unaware of the wicked eyes that spied upon his every movement, stirred his pot of food and uttered strange words that the bandits could not understand into the pot, whereupon immediately there flared a fire, so red in colour, so impenetrable, so fierce, so hot that burned in a circle around the missionary man and his campsite in that small clearing on the edge of the trail (one can hardly call it a road!!) that all the bandits ran in fear back down the slippery muddy trail.

But Lo and Behold! Yet again they found the Majestic Lion lying on the trail, licking his paw. Agony and indecision flamed bitterly in the heart of the Bandit Leader. He halted in his headlong rush down that treacherous mountain path, and summoned his 12 thieving bandits around him. ‘My knowledge comes from my lying cheating thieving heart’, he spoke in a hoarse harsh whisper, ‘ and the rest from lying wagging tongues in a dark and dingy watering hole that one cannot call a bar - and we are undone! Between this man and his strange albeit magnificent Lion, thorn bush and fire! I desire knowledge of how he has done this, so, on the morrow, I shall follow this man to his Mission compound, not to beat, kill, maim or part him from his burdens, and his old donkey, but to ask him for the terrible truth of that that lies in those words that he utters but which we do not know!’

And. So, on the mid-morning of the 6^th  day, as the old missionary man entered the mission compound, the faithful 5 and their wives and children ran into the large open grassy field laughing and singing in greeting to the old but sprightly man, for they loved him, and while they sang and danced around him, they relieved him of his burdens, thanking him for the supplies, thanking the Lord for his long but uneventful journey and dancing in joy for there was more than enough for yet another month – no one would go hungry. Until a high pitched scream from one of the young boys cut short all merriment. They looked to the boy then followed with their eyes, turning their long graceful necks towards where the boy stared - towards the Beautiful Mission church and the top of the mountain trail. There stood 12 of the most evil men they had ever seen, muddy and wet, ragged clothes filthy and torn, holding machetes and crude knives, spears and axes, faces contorted into terrifying masks, leering teeth and red sore eyes that looked like they had not closed or blinked for  3 nights and 3 days.

As the now fearful inhabitants of the mission centre quietly moved away from the evil bandits, the Bandit Leader stepped forward and shouted – whispered rather – in a hoarse voice – ‘We have come for knowledge of the Word that this man speaks and nothing else. We will not harm you, do not fear us!’

When the old missionary man heard these words, he asked them, ‘Which Word?’

‘The one that brought the Magnificent Lion on the 1^st night, the Thorn Bush on the 2^nd night and the Encircling Fire on the 3^rd night when you were upon the trail – alas! one can hardly call it a road – from the valley below. We had wicked hearts and wished to set upon you to relieve you of your burdens, but your Words, uttered to the Heavens and into your cooking pot, summoned strange magic which we wish to learn!’

The old missionary man knelt down on the ground, thanking the Lord through tears of joy, thanking the Lord for 12 warrior disciples that had been sent to him, then gave instructions to his 5 converts and their wives  for food and water to drink, bathing water and clean clothing, and to prepare a place for the bandits 12 to sleep.  As the community hastened to welcome the wicked bandits into their midst, the old missionary man spoke to the 12. As he spoke, he spoke to them, not as the evil Bandits 12, men in a crowd to be feared, but with gentleness as if they were honorable men:

‘Each night as I traveled, I prayed to my Lord. On the first night I asked The Lord Jesus to be remain with me and protect me from all harm: spiritual and evil. That first night, I prayed and asked My Lord to be my strong tower and Lion of Judah, for I was very fearful. The following night I asked my Lord to Cover me with a Hedge of Protection from thieving eyes that had murderous intentions, for again I was very fearful but knew the Lord would protect me as I laid me down to sleep. On the Third night the Spirit of the Lord came upon me as I cooked my meal, Thanking the Good Lord for His abundance and His protection and I remember asking for the Comforter to be close to me that night’.

It was why the next morning, cold and misty on the isolated mountain-top, that the bandits 12 threw their weapons into a deep pit that they dug on the side of the mountain. It was why they ate and rested and each day they listened with amazement to the Words of the old but sprightly missionary man. After a few months, the Leader of the xBandits took his men aside and announced in a strong clear voice,

‘Fellow xBandits,

we are no longer bandits,

cowards within a Thug group,

cowering in the day

and thieving  and stealing,

maiming and killing

 in the lying cover of the night.

We no longer fear the Sun and its Light.

We threw away our weapons carved by human hands,

Yet, we have been given by God,

Weapons which can cut through bone, sinew and marrow,

With which we can fight

and destroy the enemy within this world!

We knew the ways of lying and wickedness,

And now we know the way of Truth.

Let us disband!

…and each take upon himself this task:

To walk no more than 3 hours away from this Blessed Place,

Telling others of this wonderful man and his teachings,

Telling them to come and be a part of this great thing

called a Church,

For if all men knew this Word

And heeded to its truth

As we have done,

How abundantly full of joy would this place be!’

And thusly, so the old tale goes, did the Beautiful Church that the old missionary man and his 5 converts had built on a perpetually misty, cold and isolated mountain-top deep in the heart of Africa came to have over 500 converts, every bench and pew taken, each and every Sunday.

Not the End

Here.

The END

Story rewritten and adapted by Nyakio Munyinyi Okallo © 2012

(all puns intended)

A lack of water and frogs

After a week of having bucket baths and eating out (can't cook or wash dishes, duh!) we've just gotten our water back. Yippee!!! Even if it's dirty and muddy, at least we have  WATER!! Yesterday we went down into the huge underground empty tank and found (yuk) frog carcasses and a few live ones hopping about in there... eessh, my daughter doesn't find the romance in this (surely kissed frogs turn into handsome Princes!!!) and says she won't shower for a week (it's a bit late in the day for that yah??) but we had the tank cleaned out (thrice) yesterday and repaired and cemented and re-sealed. And cleaned it again early this morning. Why am I writing this? Because I agree with a friend of mine who posted about the temerity of living in Dar. 
Yes, life is is one long ________________ of one thing after another!!!!

After banging my head on the wall and getting nowhere and nothing but serious headaches, I decided to fill in that blank with the word ADVENTURE - and because of that simple twist of words,  I find myself asking and praying and beseeching The Lord frequently for the  ER's or emotional resources -  to help me cope with every new thing (read: adventure) that doesn't work out as it's meant to and let me tell you, that's almost every other second. If it's not a lack of water it's a lack of electricity, if not elec it's the genset blowing up all the kitchen appliances, if not the generator it's 2 punctures at the same time, if it's not the punctures it's ____________________  !!!  You write down the 'troubles' that irritate YOUR well-ordered life!!

Lesson Learnt: If  I don't laugh at myself and my small 'adventures' plus ask for a huge dose of Holy Spirit and JC juice, let me tell you I'd be raving insane right now.... (or maybe I am already?? Lol!)  Did I mention I have OCD?? Wrong place for me to live is where I have to DYI 99.9% of the time....

1. What that dose of H/S and JC also does is that it keeps us energized coz we know that our energy source comes from Him and the prayers of those who love us, isn't that neat??  A source of Energy and Help that never ceases. 2. If the water hadn't been cut  my family would never have discovered those frogs in tank.... so guess what, yup, we'd still be cooking and showering with 'frog-laced' water. Or maybe that's why we're so healthy and our skins so smooth hahahahaaa!!

Yah yah, after you've had a long laugh at me, take a minute and look at your life and your adventures and maybe the reason you didn't have (water) or what-ever... last week is that maybe, just maybe, you need to put a frog in your water-tank of  life, coz check this out -

FROG = Forever Relying On God.

Have a froggy week y'all, hahaha!!

Xplicit

How often do you get into a sticky situation or a financially negative season or go through a spouse-less useless lonely night or some such other thing and you catch yourself either silently screaming or shouting at God 'DUDE!! This is NOT what I asked for!! I DON'T want to be here and can U get me outta this?' 

Hmmmm.... sound familiar??

1. duh. No one asks to be broke, hungry and with no roof over their head and no chapa to buy tweeds. So why you asking Him an obvious Q? lol.

The way I figure is ( and please tell me if you think am wrong) that instead of asking Him all those impossible questions and mumbling and grumbling and stressing and shouting. sit down, or stand or lie down, what-ever! ...  but calm down either way, then ask Him. sawa, I'm here. NOW. What can I do for U? So often we're focused on me. me. me. me. me. me. me. and. my. misery.  that we don't notice that in all probability you've a job to do and you're the most qualified person to deal with it. You're in the pit (latrine) to pull out someone who fell down that (shit-hole)  and you're the only one who is slim enough to fit down that hole. Or God has sent you into the dark room to put in a light bulb because you're the only one tall enough to reach up there - (they're all midgets??)... or maybe they don't even HAVE a light bulb. So you walk in with your bulb and ladder and start gripping to the Lord - why oh why oh why did you send me into this dark place?? I am talking real life here, in today's world. I am not the only one suffering, but do I really have to walk around looking like D.E.A.T.H? Where then is the Joy in my Life and why can't people see Christ overflowing from me?? 

Don't complain. Look around and you'll be amazed at what you and only you are qualified to do. WHEN and only when the job is done will you (maybe) be relieved of your current suffering OR re-posted to another place where again, only you can help in that situ. 

I love the oooolllllllld song 'ONWARD CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS, MARCHING AS TO WAR!!!' because it is so true of our lives today. We're in a total total all out guerilla WARFARE with sniper bullets maiming innocent kids, bombs smashing your neighbours house to pieces, water and elec being destroyed and shops having nothing to sell (or not being there at all) and everyone, including you and your famo is going to suffer!!

oops! or did you think that we're in Peace times?

SMOKING WHITE

This article is written primarily for the man out there that wants to get rid of  ‘that junk….’

smoking white

The other day I was driving home and for once! For once! there was no traffic – at all. Ok, so it was mid afternoon, but still, the road ahead of me was clear of traffic and I could drive faster than the normal absolutely frustrating crawl of 40 klicks per hour, the sun was shining in a brilliant blue sky that can only be seen in Dar and the music off my ‘stick’ was booming out of my speakers…. I was having a total LG moment - Life was good. If I had been driving in Nai I’d have stuck my elbow out of the window, I was feeling that chillaxed, but you don’t do that in Dar unless you want to boil and fry your arm into a nice crispy black-bacon – so my arm was inside, the window was up and the A.C. was on full cold blast….  Oh, wait a minute, there was a car infront of me. Waaaaaaay out there. A truck. As I got closer, I realized that it was an old Canter pick-up, and kama-kawa, the thing was removing exhaust fumes to fog up my brilliant day. Ugghh!! Have you ever been behind one of those things? Slow and smoky and smelly…. and to make matters worse, the smell of the smoke was somehow filtering in through my gorgeous a.c… aaaarrrrrhhhhh!!! Quick quick, the solution was either fall back and drive at a mindlessly slow crawl, or overtake. So I tapped the accelerator with my foot and edged closer to the smelly thing in order to begin overtaking when I got the shock of my life. In less than a split second the thing emitted a cloud of white smoke so dense, it covered the entire road ahead of me to the left and more importantly, to the right. I couldn’t see the canter, I couldn’t see through the smoke at the road ahead of me, I couldn’t see through the smoke full-stop. And here I was, driving faster than a crawl. I hit my brakes. SCReeaacchh!! Too late, I couldn’t even see behind me and now my car was covered in this dense white stuff, but what scared me more was my proximity to the canter. If that thing was going to blow, how close was I to it? I could see the headlines already – WOMAN KILLED IN CANTER BLOW UP.  Acha tu! I shifted into reverse and hit the hazard button almost simultaneously and literary flew out of that smoke -  backwards. The bubble behind me (a vitz) not only reversed, but did a 360˚and headed back the way it had come…. So that left me alone on this road with a smoking canter in front of me….

A few seconds later, I was a clear 20 mts away and looking at this dense vast fog of white smoke getting bigger and bigger, when suddenly through the smoke out ran 3 very panicked men, straight towards me. I reversed further away. 30mts. Silence now. My hazards were still on. I thought a bit then backed up a further 20 mts. The three men held a small panicked meeting to the left of my ‘movie screen windscreen’ ahead of me, chattering and waving their arms while behind them the canter (totally obscured by smoke) continued spewing tons of smelly white smoke into the air. One of the men shouted into a mobile phone. I reversed again and moved to the left road shoulder. If someone behind me wanted to overtake and go into that thing… let them!, so I gave them space. As if reading my thoughts a taxi came shooting out from behind where the traffic had began to build up, but when he got closer to the dense blanket smoke he suddenly swerved to the right, right up onto the right hand shoulder and stopped there… Higher and higher the dense cloud climbed. No one moved. Dead silent. Cars built up behind me. No one hooted. The taxi reversed until he was level with me but separated by a double lane of tar. I almost laughed in his face but I was too busy watching this bank of smoke climb even higher!!! Why had no-one switched off the bloody engine?? Aarrrrggghhhh!! Chug chug chug chug…. Out spewed more smelly smoke…higher and higher…

I couldn’t even sigh! (as in deep breath in) coz I didn’t want that stuff in my lungs… but, what? It was such a brilliant day! Beautiful! So what cut?

A lot of minutes later when enough traffic had built up behind me, the denseness began to fade and the smoke began to thin. Not quite clear, but clear enough for the cars on the other side to begin coming through on the right. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh… road ahead clear on the right. As if in a bad dream, the canter was revealed in slow motion, the curtains of smoke parting slowly. As I drove past the canter I looked to see the same three men studying the engine and shaking their heads. I laughed out loud and drove off, opening my windows to let in hot but clean smoke free fresh air!! I even got me some arm bacon – and stuck my elbow out the window…

I related this incident to Drew, my hubby, a couple of days later and asked him, what exactly cut with the van? And after grinning his head off at my female idiocy, he explained. “That was a diesel van, and the driver put petrol in the tank instead of… diesel!” Oh. My. Gosh! Wonder what the owner must have said?!  A totaled engine…. Caused by a wrong judgment or carelessness. But I can’t really say I blame the driver. How often have you pulled up to a petrol station and you cannot assume that the pump attendant  will make the right choice for you? Whenever I have to add fuel to the El Grande Van I tell the attendants twice, ‘DIESEL’ and still there have been occasions when the attendant automatically reaches for the petrol pump. Humf! So, who do you blame? Dude, if you bought a car for your wifey that used diesel wouldn’t you make all the necessary precautions to make sure that DIESEL goes into the tank. Little itsy bitsy reminders on the dashboard written DIESEL, and maybe one on the tank access door written DIESEL  and maybe yet another on the fuel tank cap written DIESEL?? Then if one day the car ground to a halt after emitting serious white fumes – you’d have an excuse to rant and rave and scream and ask her, ‘CAN’T YOU REEEAAAD??’

Why then, do men do the same to their marriages?

Adding ‘petrol’ to their ‘diesel’ marriage? Or diesel to their petrol marriages? Adding a fuel that will harm the marriage engine. A fuel that will result in their marriage billowing out tons of noxious white fumes before stalling to a complete and utter halt? Making those around them stop and watch in silence when the marriage begins to go wrong? Causing those around them to fear approaching the marriage incase of a serious blow-out? Running out of the marriage in panic, waving your hands in the air and making phone calls to counselors and pastors and God-knows-who for help – although by this time it’s a bit too late? Throwing blame on the ‘petrol attendant’ when you, the driver, should have been more careful to watch and see what type of fuel was going into your engine?

Why do men sabotage their marriages willingly? I ask this because there is a new breed of men that are subscribing to a very sad culture here in East Africa – mind you - they are gorgeous men, educated too – not dumb at all – whether older (and wiser) or younger, what is more worrying is that these gorgeous-looking intelligent influencers-of-society who by the way also pledge to the Christian faith have developed the culture of having ‘gachungwas’ or ‘nyumba ndogo’ or ‘second wives’. And to make matters worse, their fellow-men are not telling them the dangers of this culture but instead sit around discussing the various ‘wonderful’ attributes of the new-girl-on-the-block!

A typical case study

The young totally gorgeous single jamaa with an education – this is NOT you (coz you’re in denial)  – this is your brother, cousin or uncle…

Before you ruin your car by adding the wrong type of fuel, educate yourself! Acquire a measure of WISDOM.

Proverbs 2:16-19

New International Version (NIV)

 16 Wisdom will save you also from the adulterous woman, from the wayward woman with her seductive words, 
17 who has left the partner of her youth and ignored the covenant she made before God. 
18Surely her house leads down to death and her paths to the spirits of the dead. 
19 None who go to her return or attain the paths of life.

Who counsels our young jamaas today? Who gives them advice? Why is the older generation letting their sons, brothers, cousins and neighbors fail before they have began to truly live life? Make some NOISEEEEEE!! Get a VUVUZELA and BLOW THAT THING!!! Because honestly, who is their example? Fathers, brothers - why are these men silent? For when a young man gets himself a ‘changudoa’ or ‘langaa’ or ‘poko’ or even a ‘sugar-mama’  - he has began to walk on a wild and wicked path straight to the pits of hell….

Proverbs 4:14-17

New International Version (NIV)


14 Do not set foot on the path of the wicked or walk in the way of evildoers. 
15 Avoid it, do not travel on it; turn from it and go on your way. 
16 For they cannot rest until they do evil; they are robbed of sleep till they make someone stumble. 
17 They eat the bread of wickedness 
and drink the wine of violence.

So this gorgeous young man begins his life already on a wicked path. At some point in his life, he wishes to get married…

Genesis 2:24

New International Version (NIV)

 24 That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh.

Wait.

Hang on a bit….

….. this YGM (young gorgeous man) has already become one flesh with several other women! In and out of different … (houses)…. Or maybe just one other. But, the question here is, who is his spirit united with,

the wife

… or the other sexual partners?

…that came before the wife?

Hmm. We are told that there is, in the spirit world, a sexual spirit. I’ve seen it and so have you – in the form of Players with a captital P, and nymphomaniacs….. ipo!!! So in this case, if this YGM has already had union with different women, when he goes into his wife, he carries with him all those previous spiritual relationships….

…..and passes them onto his wife.

Oh dear. Bad start. Wrong path… Let me totally frank here. That illustration up there? The smoking canter van on a tarmac road on a clear day? That’s your marriage. Because us women have this thing called a sixth sense that activates whenever she feels her man is engaged in sexual behavior with another woman. The thing triggers itself onto a hot ON!! She senses the ‘extra’ spirit in your life. Or the extra ‘spiritS’.  We’re made to be more emotional, and for women, sex is a LOVE thing, not just a ‘do-it-to-get-rid-of-the-itch’ thing… so, your wife starts behaving irrationally and emotionally above and beyond the normal irrational and emotional behavior…

…. Your marriage begins to take out smoke….

You might not be aware of it, but those driving behind you do…

SMOKING WHITE out of your exhaust.

It’s Okay to check if you’re on the right website…. And no, I am not bonkers. There is an evil spirit world right here among us:

12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Ephesians 6 (New International Version)

So! Our YGM husband has already began to put the wrong fuel into his marriage. He’s already put petrol in a diesel engine….

And the engine begins to shut down…

Matthew 19

New King James Version (NKJV)

4 And He answered and said to them, “Have you not read that He who made them at the beginning ‘made them male and female,’ 5 and said, ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? 6 So then, they are no longer two but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let not man separate.”

Let not man separate…..

Whatever you do, don’t break that bond that God has blessed.

10 His disciples said to Him, “If such is the case of the man with his wife, it is better not to marry.”

Matthew 19

New King James Version (NKJV)

Stay single if you’re a player. It is better not to marry if you are going to separate what God has joined together. But no! We don’t have any wise men on our streets and the YGM goes ahead and gets married, being offered no advice from his peers and his elders or any from you. Already the marriage is on very shaky ground. I say this because he of course, will unwittingly ‘compare’ the sexual prowess of his wife to his previous companions.  

Why can’t my wife kiss me like_________? No, her kisses are not better than the other gal who could do a.b.c.d.e……

 Why  doesn’t my wife respond to me like the other gal who ____________

Why is  my wife so ___________ compared to __________??

Why doesn’t my wife hug me like ____________ used to!!

Used to, she used to, I am used to, a constant repetitive reminder of what you were used to which is basically your mind Comparing notes.

Do you know it lowers your wife to the level of a pleasure delivery machine?

Petrol in a diesel engine. Or diesel in a petrol engine.

One day, in total frustration to his thoughts and the fact that he thinks he’s not getting what he ‘needs’ from home, YGM will eventually concede to the terrible tug of temptation and let himself be seduced and enticed back to his former habits. Jump that wall to feed on the grass that is greener on the other side. BTW, have you ever thought that the reason why the grass is greener on the other side is because there’s probably more (shit) manure in that compound? (and someone commented when I was giving this article as a Talk subject, that there’s probably more water in that compound too!! Lollest!!)

So, men – you go looking for the honey that you think you’re not getting at home. How Satan plays with our minds… anyway, ha ha ha ha!! God knew you would go looking for de sweet-sweet honey. There’s a Kiswahili axiom:  ‘Tafuta asali, chunga nyuki’.

So God wrote a letter to you:

Warning Against Adultery

1 My son, pay attention to my wisdom,

   turn your ear to my words of insight,

2 that you may maintain discretion

   and your lips may preserve knowledge.

3 For the lips of the adulterous woman drip honey,

   and her speech is smoother than oil;

4 but in the end she is bitter as gall,

   sharp as a double-edged sword.

5 Her feet go down to death;

   her steps lead straight to the grave.

6 She gives no thought to the way of life;

   her paths wander aimlessly, but she does not know it.

Proverbs 5:1-6

New International Version (NIV)

LYING WORDS

In today’s culture, what is a ‘ka-supu’ – ‘gachungwa’ – ‘changudoa’ -  ‘langaa’ - ‘poko’ or a ‘sugar-mama’? The weird thing is when you check out the meaning of most of these words, they are in direct contradiction to what they describe themselves as - concerning marriage.

A Ka-supu – small and super.

Gachungwa –  Sweet Orange?

Changu–  A Sweet fish?

Changudoa? A fishy stain?

Sugar Mama – ok…….   ALL THESE THINGS ARE SWEET!! Aiyee!!

It’s not funny. BTW, langaa and poko are the exception because these names are called – ‘it as it is’ and doa is a STAIN on your marriage. But knowing all this -  why go there? However frustrated you may be. Unless you really do want to kill your marriage and get rid of that junk, in which case, yes, go ahead! You’re on the Right Path to getting rid of that junk of your wife and marriage!!  When I was in uni back-in the 80’s -  adulteresses and prostitutes were called T9’s – a term taken from the medical definition of a Rabid Dog…. If a rabid dogs bites you, what happens? You get rabies and die a painful death… LOL!

Are you Tired already??  I am.

Tired of watching marriages that should ultimately be ‘made in Heaven’ break down and burn out. Tired of watching men and women trying to hold together a thing that is already rotting and smoking vicious fumes and good only for hell. Tired of watching friends kill themselves and their wives with disease. Tired of orphans being brought up by tired grandmothers. Tired of watching children growing up to a legacy of wickedness, sin, trials, tribulations and wretched despair that has been so carelessly banded out by ignorant, careless, foolish, fathers and hurting, errant, wayward mothers, marriages where the wronged spouse gains a spirit of confusion, of bewilderment, of bafflement and perplexity. These spirits are harmful, they are clearly not of God and often lead to further sin…

… remember that verse up there? When the YGM refuses to turn from evil, he takes not only himself, but the woman who is his wife, who is BOUND spiritually with him, down the same evil path…

18 Surely her (changundoa’s ) house leads down to death  and her paths to the spirits of the dead. 
19 None who go to her return or attain the paths of life.

What example do you want to leave for your sons and ultimately, your daughters? Because if we’re not careful, the wives and daughters of this generation will turn into whores and pimps because of our crime.  It is written that the sin of the FATHER goes into the third and fourth generation. So, if a generation is … let’s say…. 60 years, then for 240 YEARS you have a CURSED GENERATION. Is this the way to pay back your time on EARTH?? A cursed East Africa?

For a man, sex is a physical act and plays no part in the heart…. Yah, yah, we know….. But, women die internally when the man, the sweetheart, the lover boy that they married - turns to another. They wither inside and rot. Adultery pierces a woman’s heart and shatters her soul. What is left is a ghost, a shadow, an evil thing – a headless-woman. Are you mad with your wife? You want to hurt her and demean her? Simple. Go sleep with her sister, or cousin, or best friend, or daughter or whoever, just make sure she gets to know… the sooner the better.

Nowadays if you want to eat chicken for dinner, you simply go buy a take-away from from Interchick or Kenchick. If you want an uncooked one, you buy a broiler from the same or from the Super-Market. Tee he he, back in the day, if you wanted kuku for your meal - you had to get a live squawking chicken and then cut or wring it’s head. Now, if you cut a chickens’ head off and then let the body go (totally gross, but which as kids we used to do and then laugh ourselves silly….) .. the chicken would run around for a couple of minutes, flapping it wings and totally headless. Hence the term ‘running around like a headless chicken’. No noise, no squawking, just mindless running around with a bleeding neck….

Upende, usipende, the man is THE HEAD of the woman and when he commits adultery or spiritually cuts his head off, his wife becomes -

…. headless.

23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Ephesians 5:23 New International Version (NIV)

Let me ask my brothers a question. If your friend tells you today that he is going to commit suicide, what would you do? Give him rope? Give him a gun? Give him poison?

Why do that? Just give him a second wife…..

Or a changudoa, or a gachuugwa, or find him a Ka-supu…

Same thing.

Again, If your friend tells you today that he is going to commit suicide, what would you do?  Then why laugh and admire his girlfriend, or when he points out a girl while you’re in a club, or at a wedding or at a business function or seminar, agree with him that the ‘gal is fly!’ and drop both of them at her house, then cover up with the wife, be the alibi and if ever questioned by the wife later say, ‘your hubby was with me.’ ? ? ?

FIXING THE PROBLEM

So, what are YGM’s supposed to do?

Easy. Spot a girl and marry her. Have as much sex as you want. Make love every night all night long. Bring the house down. Who cares?? She’s your wife – wata do??

But, I’m already married?? And unfortunately THE WRONG FUEL IS ALREADY IN MY MARRIAGE, NOW WHAT?  -  COZ I VALUE THIS JUNK!

All mechanics will tell you that the minute you realize you have the wrong fuel in your new smart ka-vitz that you still have a loan on, or maybe it’s a gorgeous HSE, or maybe your car is a canter van that’s around 15 years old – whichever, to save the vehicle, you should STOP IMMEDIATELY AND SWITCH OFF THE ENGINE. Then you drain the tank. Plus clean up your engine, removing all traces of foreign fuel….

Works in God’s Kingdom as well. Only that in His Kingdom the mechs are Jesus and The Holy Spirit, working their way into your life and cleansing you thoroughly with the WORD. Such is the Power of God, such is the LOVE of GOD.

So give that cousin, your brother, your son, your friend some really good advice.

STOP. HALT. SWITCH YOUR ENGINE OFF. Don’t add any words, random actions or any advice especially ‘words of advice’ from that ‘honey’ woman… uh uh… remember, the lips of the adulterous woman drip honey, and her speech is smoother than oil; but in the end she is bitter as gall, sharp as a double-edged sword.

Do you know what gall is? It’s the stuff in the gall bladder, and the content of the gallbladder is -  Bile; a bitter greenish-brown alkaline fluid that aids digestion and is secreted by the liver  -  and that there is straight out of my dictionary. Basically any words of advice from that ‘honey’ of a numba ndogo or second-wife are actually huge drops of poison  – words to cause anger, irritability, bitterness and a smelly stench in your marriage.

So. Stop.

Then, get washed with the Water of the Word…

1 Peter 3:7 (NIV) 7 Husbands, in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives, and treat them with respect as the weaker partner and as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life, so that nothing will hinder your prayers.

In the same way… meaning, (1) Therefore, rid yourselves of all malice and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander of every kind. Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.  and (2) …… I urge you, (as foreigners and exiles), to abstain from sinful desires, which wage war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us….. because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps…..

….  “He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.”

 When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats….

 Taken from 1 Peter 2 : 1 – 3, 11 – 12, 22 and 23.

…. So that nothing will hinder your prayers. Dude! Do you know that some of a mans actions result in God NOT HEARING your prayers? Having an adulterous relationship will hinder men’s prayers. Not women’s. Men. So, call it what you will, second wife or mistress, sweet fish or orange, poko or langaa - as a believer in Christ, this is one of those things you do that will hinder your prayers concerning the welfare of your children, your business, your career, your family, your joy, your prosperity, your future and all soul matters.

Don’t scream and shout and rant and rave at me. God knew you before you were born!

He sent you a letter:

 7 Now then, my sons, listen to me; do not turn aside from what I say. 
8 Keep to a path far from her, 
 do not go near the door of her house, 
9 lest you lose your honor to others and your dignity to one who is cruel, 
10 lest strangers feast on your wealth and your toil enrich the house of another. 
11 At the end of your life you will groan, when your flesh and body are spent. 
12 You will say, “How I hated discipline! 
   How my heart spurned correction! 
13 I would not obey my teachers or turn my ear to my instructors. 
14 And I was soon in serious trouble (in the assembly of God’s people.)”

What is a cistern? It is a reservoir, a tank of clean water built within your home. In the verse below, God likens the word ‘cistern’ to ‘wife’, springs to a mans seed, fountain to his …. Yah!

 15 Drink water from your own cistern, running water from your own well. 


Quench your sexual thirst with your own wife...

16 Should your springs overflow in the streets, your streams of water in the public squares?

Should your ‘stuff’ overflow in the streets?  Really? Ok, I know it’s a bit crude, but …. Help me here someone!!


17 Let them be yours alone, never to be shared with strangers. 
18 May your fountain be blessed,

ie. may your ‘manhood’ always stand erect and not need Viagra….

and may you rejoice in the wife of your youth. 
19 A loving doe, a graceful deer - may her breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be intoxicated with her love. 
20 Why, my son, be intoxicated with another man’s wife? Why embrace the bosom of a wayward woman? 21 For your ways are in full view of the LORD, and he examines all your paths. 
22 The evil deeds of the wicked ensnare them; the cords of their sins hold them fast. 
23 For lack of discipline they will die, led astray by their own great folly.

IN CONCLUSION

A woman went to a pet shop & immediately spotted a large, beautiful parrot.. There was a sign on the cage that said 500Ksh.

 "Why so little," she asked the pet store owner.

The owner looked at her and said, "Look, I should tell you first that this bird used to live in a House of Prostitution and sometimes it says some pretty vulgar stuff."

The woman thought about this, but decided she had to have the bird any way. She took it home and hung the bird's cage up in her sitting room and waited for it to say something.

The bird looked around the room, then at her, and said,

"New house, new madam."

The woman was a bit shocked at the implication, but then thought "that's really not so bad. At least it’s not swearing."

When her 2 teenage daughters returned from school the bird saw the pair and said,

"New house, new madam, new girls."

The girls and the woman were a bit offended because the girls were 16 and 18 years old, but then began to laugh about the situation considering how and where the parrot had been raised.

Moments later, the woman's husband Kariuki came home early from work.

The bird looked at him and said,

"Hi, Kariuki!"

© NYAKIO MUNYINYI 2011