People Need The Lord - Reflections of a Young Man™
Audience-Centred Stories!

Yippee! This blog of mine is back online with better stories - now written for people, not for profit. From now henceforth, God-willing, I will be telling you stories here that will tickle your fancy, deepen your faith, offer you hope, improve your outlook on life, inspire you in one way or another, or simply add to your wealth of knowledge and wisdom. How about that?



People Need The Lord

This is the majestically vaulted main sanctuary of All Saints Cathedral in Nairobi, a wonderful church I joined after I left Starehe Boys' Centre in April 2007. Photo courtesy of my friend Joyce Kayima.


As you might already know if you have read the "about_me" page of this lovely blog of mine, I liked attending church at All Saints Cathedral in Nairobi during my first year at JKUAT in 2007 after I wandered into the church in April that year as I was looking for a church where I could assist in piano-playing while preparing to matriculate at the university. I especially came to love being part of the church's 9.30am English Service Choir, with which I sang tenor and played the organ, because of its spiritually enriching songs and its buddy-buddy monthly fellowships.

So much did I love being part of it that I narrated in the essays I wrote to the top American colleges I applied for admission that year of how a devoted choir member of All Saints Cathedral I was. I meant what every word I said in the essays which I must have thought would improve my chances of getting accepted into those top colleges because they admit students who excel not only in academics but also in extra-curricular activities.

You see, before matriculating at JKUAT in 2007, I had applied to four top American Colleges the previous year but was rejected by all of them. But being the ambitious young man that I was, I still fervently desired to fly to America, so I decided to re-apply in 2007.

For many days, I attended the church with high hopes of eventually flying to America for undergraduate studies at one of the top colleges I applied for admission which I imagined to be of the same high standards as All Saints Cathedral. I would at times gaze at the majestically vaulted main sanctuary of the cathedral (see photo above) and visualize myself doing the same at Harvard. Of the four colleges I applied in that round, Harvard was my first choice.

But it was not only my desire to study in the United States that glued me to the cathedral because, as I have said, I also loved being part of the church's 9.30am English Service Choir because of its spiritually enriching songs.

Yes, I did learn quite a number of hymns which deepened my faith in God. Among the hymns I learnt were: Have You Been to Jesus for the Cleansing Power?, Jesus Stand Among Us, Lead Us Heavenly Father Lead Us, Father Hear the Prayers We Offer, Be Still and Know that I am Lord, and my all time favourite Every Day They Pass Me By.

Of that last hymn I have mentioned in the paragraph above, I know you might be asking, "Who are these people who pass you by?" Well, let me just quote the first verse of the hymn:
Everyday they pass me by,
I can see it in their eyes,
Empty people filled with care,
Headed who knows where?

On they go through private pain,
Living fear to fear,
Laughter hides their silent cries,
Only Jesus hears,
People need the Lord,
...
At the end of broken dreams,
He's the open door,
...
When will we realize,
People need the Lord?
I loved that first verse of the hymn so much so that I found myself singing it out aloud to myself. But little did I know back then that God would test me by deed whether I could live by what it said. You know why?

Well, I was rejected by all the top American colleges. Then I ignominiously dropped out of JKUAT and stopped attending church which led me to be forcefully admitted to hospital.

By the time I was getting discharged from JKUAT hospital in late 2008, I had grown fearful, hopeless and overweight which led me to feel withdrawn. I tried to resume attending church at All Saints Cathedral but I found myself feeling so alienated and demotivated that I began to miss the days when I was full of high hopes. And then I would pity myself and wonder what on earth had happened to me.

My mother coaxed me to continue attending church at All Saints Cathedral by giving me bus fare to Nairobi but I would at times instead go sleep at Uhuru Park next to the cathedral where I was on one Sunday incarcerated for almost an hour for urinating on a fence. Eventually, I gave up attending church and for several years, I didn't sing or play the piano.

I have now sprang back into good shape thanks to the Lord my dear God. He has guided me back to the path of eternal peace with His amazing grace. And all I can say now is that people need the Lord at the end of broken dreams. He's the open door for shizzle.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Sharing is Caring

Like this story? Then share it on:



Leadership Lessons

This is the 2006 Starehe Boys' Fire-fighting Squad which used to conduct a more than four-month gruelling physical fitness test for new members. Photo courtesy of Fred Kithikii, the 2006 Squad Commander.


Bear with me, if you will, as I recount on yet another wonderful experience I had at Starehe Boys' Centre. I am just developing a hobby of reflecting on my past days, the heart-warming as well as the buttock-clenching ones, with the aim of either gleaning valuable lessons or enjoying my life again. And that hobby, which I am finding more refreshing than watching a wacky movie, is inspiring me to live an honourable life while still a youth so that I can get to enjoy it again when I grow old through beautiful memories.

I joined the Starehe Boys' Survival Club in my first term in Form 1 back in 2002 after magically passing an interview conducted by commandos - as the club leaders were called. And with time, I came to enjoy the camps and hikes we had in the club. Well, I didn't enjoy the hikes because they involved a lot of trekking through hilly countrysides but the camps, during which some commandos wore stetson hats that made them look like American cowboys, were quite another thing in that I enjoyed them especially the night camp-fires around which we would sing funny ditties while making fun of commandos who were selected in Form 3.

Like one Survivor teased a commando on one of those camp-fire chants by saying, "You see the grandmother of Commando 'X' - she grew thin and thinner and thinner and thinner and thinner until she disappeared!"

So much did I come to enjoy being part of Survival Club that at one time, I wanted to be a commando in the club. I however gave up on the ambition when I realized I couldn't withstand joining the Starehe Boys' Fire-fighting Squad (see photo above) which Survival Club commandos were expected to join. But with all the confusion and timidity that Starehians saw in me, I doubt whether I would have been selected a commando anyway.

I therefore left the club in Form 2 but after having gleaned the following leadership lessons which I hope to apply in my future family of which I will be the head, God willing:
  • Rise early
  • Be physically fit
  • Ensure everybody in the family has a meal before sitting down to eat
  • Create some time for family fun in which everyone is free to tease each other
  • Keep disagreements with wife and bedroom affairs out of notice by children
And how did I glean those valuable lessons? Mostly in Survival Club camps in which I would observe among other things that commandos projected a spirit of unity and had us wake up early in the morning for physical exercises.

Later on in 2012, I became interested in memorizing the values and mission statements of Survival Club as they may have been outlined by the club founder in 1989. So I visited Starehe Boys' only to find that the club had been displaced from the cottage we used as headquarters in our days to a small room partitioned in an old classroom.

With that kind of change, I sensed the club had lost its glitz and glamour. I informed Ken Ogutu, one of the commandos in '02, about the change but he didn't seem surprised. He just told me they used to refer to the cottage we used as Survival Club headquarters as the Bush Embassy. I found that Ogutu's remark amusing because it implies that if you wanted to go to the bush, you first had to get a visa from the Survival Club headquarters.

And by the way Ken Ogutu, who I have approached to be my legal advisor, went on to study law at the university and was accepted at the renowned Harvard Law School for a post-graduate course. My friend, that's the end of my story, and I have had a nice time telling it. Thanks for bearing with me.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Sharing is Caring

Like this story? Then share it on:



Forswearing Foolish Ways

This is the family of Jesse Nyoro - the encouraging senior who gave me a warm reception at Starehe Boys' Centre. I have displayed the photo here with his permission.


I first reported at Starehe Boys' Centre as a student on a lovely Thursday afternoon on 17th January of 2002. Back then, I didn't realize how fortunate I had been to be admitted to the school which treated new students as brothers. It's only in recent years when I have heard of how some of my friends were bullied in their first days in high school by their seniors that I have thanked God for taking me to Starehe which had a tradition of assigning every new student to a second-former who would orient him to the ways of the school.

My second-former was one friendly Leon Osumba from the Luo community of Kenya who was a bit hearing impaired but compensated for that disability by wearing hearing aids. He went out of his way to introduce me to other schoolmates in Chaka House that I was part of. His amiable demeanour explains why I have a visceral hatred for any sort of discrimination on the grounds of age, race, faith, tribe, gender, disability or sexual orientation. And it also explains why I wouldn't mind marrying from the Luo community, provided the lady is a person of fashion and sense.

The captain of Chaka House back in 2002 was one Michael Mwangale who received the first-formers of that year amicably including me. He used to hold regular meetings with us during the first half of Term 1 in which he would mentor us on a myriad of issues including the spread of HIV/AIDS. Like I remember him telling us that it is unwise to ruin our lives with two minutes of sexual ecstasy. And the night before we broke for mid-term holidays in that term, he organized a small bash for us in which we feasted on biscuits and drank plenty of tea. Oh, how I miss those good old days!

I shall always remember Mwangale for a funny comment he uttered during one roll-call. It was a day before we broke for a half-term holiday, an exciting moment especially for us first-formers. After Mwangale was through with whatever important stuff he was telling during that roll-call, he closed his remarks by saying, "And guys, do have a nice half-term. Go say 'hi!' to your sisters."

Again I say, that was Michael Mwangale: a didactic, commanding but sometimes funny young man who in 2002 served as the captain of Chaka House at Starehe Boys' Centre.

But perhaps the Starehian who gave me the best reception in the school was one Jesse Nyoro who was six years my senior and whose photo I have displayed above. He introduced me to Music teachers when he heard that I could play the piano. And he made some very congenial compliments about me to my fellow first-formers. Later on, he encouraged me to accompany hymns on the piano during assembly by giving me a music score of hymn no. 59 in Starehe Boys' hymnal: that wonderful old hymn in limerick form whose first verse goes as follows:
Turn back, O man, forswear thy foolish ways;
Old now is Earth, and none may count her days,
Yet thou, her child, whose head is crowned with flame,
Still wilt not hear thine inner God proclaim:
Turn back, O man, forswear thy foolish ways.
Nyoro treated me like a brother despite the fact that I was a confused new student while he was a famous senior in Starehe pursuing a technical course in the institute division of the school. He still remains my friend who has counselled me on several occasions in recent years.

Like he called me on phone the other day to inquire how I was fairing in life. I told him that I am still working hard and praying for breakthroughs, to which he replied, "What breakthroughs are you praying for Thuita? Don't you realize that your breakthroughs happened a long time ago? Do you know how many people wish they could own a website like you do and write as you do? Stop this business of saying you are praying for breakthroughs."

He proceeded to tell me of two disciples who walked with Jesus without realizing they were with Him until He gave them bread. The point he was trying to make in that reference to the two disciples is that God has already been with me and I only need to open my eyes wider to sense His presence. For whatever reasons, I cannot remember reading about that story of the two disciples walking with Jesus without realizing it in spite of having studied the whole Bible from preface to index.

I however tried to clarify to Nyoro that by praying for breakthroughs, I meant earning money. And I wish I had told him like by winning a lucrative advertising contract in this blog but he cut me short when I mentioned the word money by replying, "Thuita, money only accounts for 10% of happiness. So long as you have food to eat, clothes to wear and good health - those alone are big breakthroughs."

After reflecting on that Nyoro's advice, I am thinking that maybe I should begin counting my blessings instead of focusing on what I don't have. Or maybe I need to forswear my foolish ways and proclaim my inner God by being grateful for the gifts of everyday life as that wonderful old hymn I have mentioned exhorts in its first verse. Actually, that's what I strive to be doing. So should you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Sharing is Caring

Like this story? Then share it on:



← Newer Stories  ||   Older Stories →