Today I attended service at a Catholic church, and I’m seriously considering joining the Pope’s people. Hawa watu hawana mambo mingi. 😂 You criticise their religion, they listen until you finish. Nobody is rolling up their sleeves to defend Rome. You came with your mouth, finish talking and go home. They attend Mass, receive Communion, say Hail Mary, then some pass by their local for a cold beer. From “peace be with you” to “weka moja baridi” without quarrelling with anybody. 😂 Nobody is inspecting your clothes. Wear the same shirt every Sunday until the collar gives up. You came to see God, and God already knows that shirt. No loudspeaker facing somebody’s cows, announcing that the devil has refused to leave the village. The church bell rings, and those who are going start walking. And they’re not begging you to join. The church has been beside the road since your grandfather was a boy. You know the entrance. Ukijiskia, ingia. What pleased me most was not being asked to stand up, introduce myself, say who invited me and explain whether I’m visiting or looking for a spiritual home. Yaani I can come and pray without giving the village my CV? 😂 By the time I left, nobody had recruited me into a committee or asked why my wife hadn’t come. Very disciplined people. Somebody tell the Pope there is a man from Kingeero coming and I already know where the church is. 😂