Happy New Year 2016

Today is the last day of 2015 and in a few hours it will be 2016. This feels like a deja vu now that I did a similar blogpost on 31st Dec 2014. It is always good to pay tribute to the year that was or has been and cap it off, have closure of some sort. I am a sucker of new year punch lines and resolutions. Each new year, I start with great anticipation and hope but as I have grown older, I realize that you can always start a 'new year' any time of the year. It doesn't have to be on the 1st. Having it on the 1st obviously gives it so much momentum but only when you can sustain it can you see any significant change.

2015 has been a year of firsts for me. A year that will always be in my mind. I don't know but I have always liked the number 5 so when I see the digit 5 in any number it resonates with me. Maybe it is because my year of birth had a 5 as well. I turned 30 this year. The big 30. It is the age that you are now assumed to have matured or fully become an adult. It is the age that it dawns on you that you are not a child any more. It is the age that you start seeing articles written specifically for your age as if you did not exist before.

Posts like this pop up when you hit 30

Finally you are recognized as an adult. Finally somebody sees you as a grown up capable of his own decisions. I have always felt 'older' than I really am but was constantly betrayed by my small body frame making me appear even younger than I really am. I associated myself with people older than me and I just wanted to be older. I have lived feeling 'trapped' in an age that does not belong to me. I felt older. I envied older peeps. They have the benefit of experience and all the good things happened to them. When you sit among the older guys they talk of the times when fuel was Kshs 45 bob a litre. Like for real, 45 bob?! wow..I would fill my Starlet tank with less than Kshs 1500. Don't tell me about sijui the value of the shilling then was good..blah blah...that is what we say when we want to feel that we are not doing as badly as it seems. In any case, 45 bob is cheap. That was the time to be alive. These guys were adults when a quarter an acre of land in Juja, Ruiru heck even Karen was under Kshs 200,000. Now some of them own these parcels of land and would sell to us, the younger peeps for more than 10 times the price they bought them. Where was I when these things were happening? Oh I was in primary school thinking of passing KCPE and appearing in the newspaper and being asked what I would like to be when I grow up. Sigh. Now if I want land I have to think of Kajiado and other parts of land that have 'promise' of becoming big cities in the years to come. Possibly in 2045?? I will be 60 then...wacha ikae...These guys are first in line to be considered for jobs and the younger peeps like me would be asked to wait for their turn. They are the guys who have 10 years of work experience when they are starting out and applying for the same job you are. My millennial comrades refuse to wait in line and go solo and start up their own businesses. I feel that people my age have been patronised and addressed with condescending attitudes for being too 'daring' and ambitious. When we were kids we would always say, 'when I grow up, I would like...' now we are grown. 30 is the age we were talking about. This is the age when you are all grown up. This is the age now that I do not want to be older. I want it to linger. The world is lining up for the 30 year olds...for the new breed on the block. The guys who do not play by the rules..the guys who just don't care for labels. They think out of the box and would do anything to match up to the 'older' peeps. It feels good to be 30. Long live 30...I am just getting started with life and now the world is at our feet for us 30 year olds...It is the perfect age where you are neither too old nor too young. You are just right! Sorry to all those who are younger or older. You have had your turn or for you who is 29, your turn is coming. Let us, let me glory in this, well at least for the next 6 months.

Enjoy the moment

Well 2015 was not all about age...or was it? There is the other big thing about me becoming a father, a fact I blogged about here. A big thing indeed. I love my son. I thank God for him. It is as if God took the best parts of me and the best parts of Sylvia and gave us Triple N. He is the best version of Sylvia and I. The little guy is just too awesome...a mini me...that is growing everyday....He likes to speak in tongues. A language he acquired from heaven from whence he came and has been trying to learn the language we speak here on earth. Nevertheless...we understand each other..sometimes..but we do..Now I envy his age..he has the whole world ahead of him. He can be anything he wants to be. He can be a football player, a musical genius, a coder, an artist..anything he wants to be. For some of us..that time passed. While I love football, I cannot start a football career now, that bus passed with Mourinho in it. For him, the journey has just began. I am privileged to be the one to guide him so help me God. Like me it was a year of firsts for him, first jab, first crawl, first roll, first el-nino, first christmas...and now in a few hours his first new year. All the best son!

My First Born Son, NNN

I went back to school in 2015 to pursue my Masters degree. I am happy I waited 7 years from my first degree to do this. I have more clarity now...better understanding of what I want to be and any decision I would have taken regarding my studies before 2015 would probably have been a wrong one. I owe this epiphany to turning 30...maybe?..maybe not. This academic journey has just began for me and I pray that God helps me to finish it. It is one that I believe will unlock and unleash my full potential. I hope to one day share my own journey of finding my self and being comfortable in my own skin akin to my success story. One of my 'resolutions' for 2015 was to increase my knowledge and I am happy to have done this in 2015. We grow by learning and the moment we stop learning, we stop growing. I hope that 2016 we get to use our brains more and I mean that in all sincerity. My son deserves the best version of me to raise him up. I owe him that. In pursuit of my full potential I inadvertently challenge him to be the same. 

Like every life cycle, we marry and we bury and in 2015, the curtains finally came down for my grandfather. He was 95 years old. That was a low moment for us as a family but we are comforted to know he lived a full life. My tribute to his legacy can be found here. The inevitability of life guarantees that we will have moments of joy and sadness in 2016. All I hope for is that we do have more joys than sadness in 2016. This realization makes me know that life is indeed a privilege and as long as I have breath, I will make the best of it. Tell that to my younger version of myself, I would have dismissed you as patronizing and condescending to me and my feelings. Hehe. I would say that you do not understand my struggles and that you have it all together and that is why you are saying these things. The folly of being young...all in its stride..a necessary phase..nay a necessary evil. We should all have episodes of teleporting and speaking to our younger or older selves. It will jolt you back to reality and put life in perspective.

ICYMI my support for my beloved Manchester United has been tested this year. I have had to accommodate taunts, ridicule and even sarcasm from all quarters including my house.

ridicule from all over..

Sylvia I am talking about you. From trending topics and hashtags to facebook posts, MUFC has been on top for all the wrong things. Unfortunately, it is not about to end and 2016 promises to be a year of incredible lows but what fan will I be if I only support the club during the good times and not the bad times. Maybe the 'retweets and hashtags' of #LVGOUT will save the day..they have before so I will increase my retweets in 2016 and crossing fingers something will be done. I reiterate my support for MUFC despite the threats...

Threats..

Surely this too will pass. I only hope that I do not wait for 8 years to see MUFC win a trophy. It looks like it is going to be Arsenal's year in 2016. All the bookies have betted on them winning the premier league finally and give Arsene Wenger a befitting send off. I actually think they will but my 'red-devil' fan blood tells me that they will capitulate somewhere in February after MSN inflicts some confidence crisis and the wait will continue. It will give me a sense of schadenfreude as a MUFC fan. 

ION, I do pray that in 2016, the church in Kenya will assert itself and be a beacon of hope. A lighthouse for this nation. God knows we do need some change. I pray that we take our salvation seriously and walk the talk. In so doing we will gain the respect of outsiders and challenge them to be different. The scandals in the church and the jokes on the church really should stop in 2016. We should look inwardly and stop the rot, the mess. Let us do a clean up in-house and cover one another instead of exposing each other in the public domain. I look forward to the day that the church will be the highest institution in the land. The go-to place. The moral compass of the society. It is coming but only if we pay the price. Pay the price long enough to get the prize.

Well...I have to be blogging more in 2016. I have a lot to say...now that am 30:-) It is my turn to speak. I would like to cap it off as Juan Mata does in his blog posts with 'hugs' but the more he says 'hugs' the more MUFC loses. I mean who really ends a post with 'hugs'?? I shall not be perpertrate this slump with such endings. 'Release' is a better antonym. 

Happy new year 2016!

NATHANIEL NDUATI NJAAGA

Triple N, N^3 or N cubed. That is the name of my son. I think it is a cool name. I am sure he will appreciate the effort taken to come up with such a cool name. Ladies and gentlemen of the world, I introduce to you Nathaniel Nduati Njaaga. Today my son turns 3 months and oh the joy of being a father, a parent. Today is also my wife's birthday. I am blessed to have her as the mother of our son and the wife of my youth. I celebrate you today on your birthday. May God give you more life. Here's to a great year. You make a great wife and mother and you deserve all the happiness in the world. Happy birthday babe! In an age where birthdays are celebrated with such grandiose gifts paraded on social media, I shall resist the temptation and be modest and just do a mention on my blogpost.

Today I dedicate this blogpost to my son. Instead of writing about him, I will write him a letter.

Dear Son

Happy 3 months. Today you turn 3 months. A whole 3 months. This far you have come God has been good. I want to let you know that 8th April, 2015 was one of my happiest days when the nurse asked me to hold my son. It was surreal holding you and take you to the nursery. Your eyes were wide open totally oblivious to your surrounding. Perhaps you were wondering where this is and sometimes you look like you still wonder. Not to worry...this is earth and it is a wonderful place. You were born to dominate this place and it has been waiting for your arrival. I am sure by the time you are reading this you will be a little grown so it will not be your third month birthday. By now I know you have figured out your name: Nathaniel Nduati Njaaga. This is the name your mother and I gave you and I shall explain it for you.

moments after your birth

Nathaniel is a Hebrew name meaning, 'Given of God or God's Gift'. Am sure a Google search would reveal as much if not more. I want you to know that you are a gift from God to us. We might be your parents but we are just stewards of this gift and at the appropriate time we shall release you to the world to be all you can be. Nduati is a Kikuyu name, actually my father, your grandfather had the same name. I honor my father. Njaaga is your surname, my name and it ties me to you. I want you to know that inasmuch as we have named you NNN, you decide your own destiny, you decide your own fate.

As your father, I speak great blessing upon your life. As the first born, you shall be a leader and give direction to your sibling(s). You are already a leader.

Like Noah, you will be used by God in your generation to lead men to their safety
Like Abraham, you will be a friend of God and you shall walk closely with Him
Like Isaac, you shall find the right wife for you.
Like Joseph, you will dream dreams and actualize them
Like Joshua, you shall be courageous and bold
Like Samson, you shall be a decisive man and not be double minded
Like David, you will be a man after God's own heart.
Like Solomon, you shall grow and be full of wisdom
Like Nehemiah, you shall be a rebuilder of what the enemy has brought down.
Like Jeremiah, you are a prophet to the nations
Like Daniel, Shadrack, Meshack and Abednego you shall not defile yourself with the pleasures of this world and you will become 10 times better than your peers in every aspect of your life.
Like Ezekiel, you shall depend on the Lord and not rely on your wisdom.
Like Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, you shall not depend on your own might or power but on the Spirit of the Lord
At the age of 12 just like Jesus you shall be about the Lord's business and shall grow having favour with man and God
Like the prodigal son, you will always come back to your senses in case you lose your way and you will always know that my arms will be wide open to receive you.
Like Nathaniel no deceit shall be found in you. You will be an honest man.

You shall be self confident, not suffer identity issues. In a world full of men in crisis you shall be a beacon of hope to your generation. You shall discover your purpose and live to your full potential. You will not wander aimlessly in this world trying to figure yourself out but the Lord shall order your steps and you shall find your purpose. Perhaps at the time you are reading this, you are well on your way to knowing who you are.
You shall escape the adulterous woman, the loose woman because the Lord shall be with you. Instead, you shall be the perfect gentleman and treat women right. Be wary of wine and drink, many have lost their sight and vision because of it. Be sober and avoid the allure of alcohol and strong drink.

Son, you may feel the pressure to match up to the examples pointed herein. If you are wired like me, then I know you have it in you to pursue perfection and this could weigh you down in case you don't attain it. Fret not, we have prayed for you and you will be okay. Enjoy life, follow after God and the rest shall flow.

The words I speak upon you, I speak as your father and I will constantly affirm you and nurture you to be the man God created you to be. Your mother and I commit to raise you in a godly way and may God crown our efforts with success. Son, I want to let you know that the greatest decision you will ever make is to accept Jesus as Lord and saviour of your life. It is a personal decision but one which will change your life forever. Live for God and you will be fulfilled.

Son, remember that godliness with contentment is of great gain. The pressure to gain wealth and influence surrounds us even more so in your generation. Wealth and riches do not define you and can never satisfy you so do not be misled in chasing after them. Do not feel inadequate because you lack this or that but know that your security comes from God. Money is good for the good it can do but God is your ultimate source and trust Him and He will provide all your needs. What you do not have, you do not need.

Do not be afraid of failure. Failing is inevitable but being a failure is a choice. Know that in this world you shall have moments of self-doubt, disappointment, even failure. It is okay. Do not stay down, pick yourself up and in the words of your grandmother, life must go on. Even in nadir moments, remember that the Lord is with you. Reach out to Him and He will come to your rescue.

Finally, the journey of parenthood is a life long process. It is exciting to watch you grow and may God give us long life to see all God's promises on your life come to pass. We as your parents commit to be there for you.  As your father, I tell you, 'you are my son in whom I am well pleased'. Do not forget that. Remember that God is the ultimate father and He transcends time and will always be there for you. Go forth and be all you can be.

Oh I almost forgot, as for me and my house, we support Manchester United. I am sure you identify with the jerseys in your locker by now. I hope you can perpetuate this legacy. In case you wander away and are dissuaded by your cousins or peers to support another club, just make sure it is not Chelsea, Arsenal, Liverpool or Manchester City!

27 days old

what's up?

coz am happy...

Your Dad

P.Njaaga Nduati

IN LOVING MEMORY OF MUM

I dropped my dad in town at Kencom as I headed to campus to study for a CAT that was due the following day. I told him I would pick him up at Nairobi Hospital as I also checked on mum. 4 o'clock I get a call from my uncle telling me I shouldn't go to the hospital because my mother has passed on. It all seemed like a dream yet it felt true as my mother was quite ill. It would seem that death was the natural progression for her yet I kept hope against all odds.

I remember going to see my friend in town to inform him of the bad news. I tried not to go home and confirm the news. When I got home, my dad of few words hugged me and said, 'pole'. It then dawned on me that she was no more. That was 2nd June, 2008. My dad narrated to me that he was there when the machine flatlined at 2:30pm and that gave me some sense of comfort knowing that he was there when she died.

A few weeks before, my mother who was terminally ill with cancer seemed to be getting better. In fact the doctors were quite impressed with her results and all of a sudden hope was restored that she will live and not die. Then on May 20th as she checked in for her regular dialysis session, she was admitted because she had gotten a chest infection and her vitals were not looking good. Her health deteriorated so fast from then on as she got transferred from the ward to the HDU and finally to the ICU. These events have stuck with me and are etched in memory.

As a young man in his twenties barely out of campus. ( I graduated 4 months later) the cruel hand of death had robbed me of the one person who I really needed at the most crucial point in my life. Having become disillusioned with life and trying to figure out my purpose, the tender loving care of my mother would have moulded me and charted the path I should have took. The fruits of her labour had not yet blossomed and I was hoping she would start to reap what she had tirelessly sown over the years. She missed all the events in my life that would have made her glad I suppose.

I often wonder how my life would have turned out if she was still alive. Would I be married? Would I be where I am? Would she be happy with the choices I made? I just wonder....As I grow older, it seems I need her more today than yesterday. I would love to have the mother to son moments today. I am constantly reminded of her every year as we celebrate mothers' day knowing I would never be able to wish her, 'happy mothers' day'. It is heartbreaking as BikoZulu writes in his blog.

It is now 7 years but it still feels like yesterday. The pain lingers, the questions remain unanswered but life goes on. She would often say, 'life must continue'. This was her mantra, her song. It never made sense what she meant until her life was snuffed out from us. No matter what life throws at you, life goes on and more than that your life MUST continue. She used to say that she had nothing to give my brother and I except an education. She devoted her life and earnings in giving us the best education she could. The greatest inheritance you can ever receive is not land but an education. Education will give you land and anything you desire. That is the power of education but I would go further and say that it should be the right education. With the right education you can be all you want to be. She sacrificed herself for the good of her children.

The greatest gift my mother ever gave me was God. My mother provided me a strong Christian foundation, upon which I have built my life. She taught me how to pray, not through words but by watching her. She was devout in prayer. She was committed to serving God and that is what I saw growing up. She achieved all that she did through prayer. I am a result of answered prayer. This is her legacy and today I pay tribute to her. I am privileged to have grown up with a mother and even though she is now gone, I realize that it was a gift from God. By the grace of God I have made it past June 2nd, 2008 and each day is a blessing.

I am struggling to write this blog post as words fail me as to how much my mother meant to me and the impact she had on my life. God places the lonely in families and he is the father to the fatherless.
Thank God for mothers and thank God for Gladwell Njambi Thuo.

C.T. NDURUBU-THE LEGACY LIVES ON

CT Ndurubu a.k.a. Guka

I read a true story of a woman who was asked, 'what is the best thing about being 104 years old?' She replied, 'No peer-pressure'. The same could be said of my grandfather who at the time of his death last month was 95 years. To reach 95 years is a bonus these days and I will say that CT Ndurubu was a blessed man.

Death is never a good thing. It stings whether you see it coming or it creeps on you suddenly. My grandfather was ill for a while and while this was a bit normal for his age, he seemed to give up on life this time round. He lost the will to live. He said he was tired of being alive! What a thing to say...That is to say, death had nothing on him. He outlived death! He had no peers. Some of his children died and left him. As a parent, your wish is your child to bury you and not the other way round. The death of my grandfather hit me pretty hard. It felt and still feels as though I lost my identity. He was the remaining piece representing my father and having him alive and around was a subtle assurance that dad was still here. With granddad gone now, it feels like the last straw just went up in flames and there is nothing to show from whence I come. It feels as though I am an alien and I have no family to go back to. Though this is not true, (I appreciate my uncles, aunties and parents-in-law and the role they have played and continue to do) death has a way of reopening closed wounds and bringing it all back. I am grateful though that Guka lived a long and peaceful life. Not many get the opportunity. I choose to celebrate his life and legacy today on this blog post.

My grandfather (Dad's dad) was the full intellectual. He was a brilliant mind and among the few in his generation to get an education. He was a firm believer of education as the answer to all African problems. He attended Alliance High School and he seemed to revel in this fact a tad bit too much. He would often tell me repeatedly that he was taught mathematics by Carey Francis. Instead of telling me of the 'Mau Mau' stories, he would tell me how he did his 'arithmetic' as that generation would call mathematics. He would be excited every time whenever I told him that I had passed my exams especially mathematics. He would say that I took after my dad who was also known for his excellent academic results.

He loved to read. One time when his eyes started to fail him, he requested to undergo laser surgery to make him read. He was quite soft spoken and whenever we would visit him, he would talk to us for 15 minutes and go back to his room. He would then come back with Kshs 200 bob and give my brother and I to share. Later on, we would always go to Kariobangi South to 'see' him and get some cash. Speaking of K-South, this was my grandfather's residence. He never lived in 'shagz'. He was a postmaster and was working in Nairobi. Besides, he often said the cold in Murang'a was too much for him as he had asthma. I grew up in BuruBuru and K-south was just the estate next door. Looking back now, this was such a privilege. 'Shagz' was just a stone throw away. That was kinda cool in those days.

Guka had a VW Beetle registration plate KMT 341. He would tell us that he bought the car in 1969 and my uncle later told me that he had bought it from the CMC showroom. VW Beetle was the car of the 70s. It was the car for the middle class. Though I don't remember much about it, my cousins do have a story about it. I never got to meet 'cucu'. I was told that she died in 1977 and guka never remarried till his death. That is a long time to stay alone. I think he must have really loved her that there was no room for another.

As we prepared his burial, I came across his photo album. That is what I would call a collectible. His melancholic character made sure that it was perfectly labelled, each picture with the right caption handwritten. He even had his leaving certificate from Alliance High School in 1941 stuck together with the envelope that the cert came with. Looking at that album, I was so inspired and amazed at who he was. At that moment, I really wished that I had more time with him.

I must confess that I did not spend as much time as I would have loved with Guka. For that, his loss feels more profound but I am glad I got to see him 2 weeks before his demise albeit in hospital. This was the second time in as many weeks that I had seen him. He would call me, 'professor Njaaga' perhaps as his feeble attempt to remember who I was now that his memory had started to fail him. In fact he said he felt irrelevant in life as all his faculties had started to fail him. He would rather die than bother anyone with taking care of him. As long as he could read his newspaper and books, he was okay. When he no longer could do that, coupled with hearing challenges and a fading memory, he was ready to go. On Saturday 21st March, 2015 at around 4 p.m. he breathed his last at Mater Hospital. A chapter was closed.

As we buried him on 2nd April, 2015, he was eulogized as a great man. An honest man from the golden generation. He was feted like the patriarch he was. I will miss you guka and perhaps I will actualize that 'professor' dream you had of me as a tribute to your great legacy.

My all-time favourite photo-Guka with my dad at his graduation, 1978

Rest in Peace Guka

Touch Not Mine Anointed

Psalm 105:15 bear the words, 'touch not my anointed, do my prophets no harm'. This is one scripture that has been abused and used one too many times to defend preachers, men and women of God. It has a certain ring of fear round it and it instills fear for the wrath of God to be executed on us. Most of us christians, as a result, steer clear from criticizing and judging men of God. We fear we might be struck by lighting or killed in a horrible way. There is even a factfile of horrible deaths of people who have denied or abused God. It all comes down to this verse. We ought to speak against evil and evil practices done by evil men or even men of the cloth. In speaking the truth, we do not 'touch' the Lord's anointed. However, in speaking against bad behaviour of 'men of God', let us weigh our words carefully as with the measure of judgement we give so shall we receive. It is a delicate balance. There is a difference between speaking the truth in love and tearing down. In tearing down someone with malice, we 'touch' the man. We may not do bodily harm to our preachers today but our words may destroy their lives and in so doing we violate the word of God.

After reading Njoki Chege's literary onslaught on one of the preachers in Nairobi, inevitably this scripture came to mind. Immediately, my mind started to conjure images of doom for this girl. The girl has quite the literary skill but often uses it to tear down rather than build up. I was okay with the onslaught on Subaru cars because it displayed the level of ignorance on these streets especially when it comes to cars. You don't argue with such. But when you start talking about religion, then you hit a raw nerve and I stand up and speak. The article was harsh and doesn't make for easy reading especially for those whose allegiance are to the preacher. I am not here to defend the preacher, I am well aware of the faults out there. I actually do not agree with the doctrine perpetuated by the preacher(s) but one thing I know is that God is no respecter of persons. God will use anybody inspite of and despite of them. You will hear God's voice from very strange places. If you expect to hear God from a perfect vessel then you may end up hearing nothing. It is in imperfect vessels that God is glorified. Granted, this is not a pass for bad behaviour but let us not be quick to judge. Only God can judge. He is the righteous judge because He has the full picture. He has the 3D picture of all things. We mostly see one side. Who knows what happens behind the closet?

Before I proceed, let me share my beliefs as pertains to pertinent issues in the Christian faith. I am all for honoring the man or woman of God but not elevating them to a pedestal reserved for God. I am not for demigods. I am all for giving to the church as God has commanded in His word, the Bible. I am not for seed-sowing-to-get-a-miracle. I am not for paying for your miracle. I am all for the man of God to live decently. I am not for lavish spending at the expense of poor congregants. I am not for showmanship. I am all for personal security. I am not for 'men-in-black' 'protecting' the 'man of God' from the very same people he is to help. The man of God is not a monopoly of all truth. He or she cannot be a financial advisor, a health expert and still a spiritual advisor. You cannot be all things. God called Paul to spread the gospel to the gentiles not the Jews. Peter was called to the Jews. Whenever Paul veered off from his main calling, he was shipwrecked, tortured and left for dead in the same city that Peter was freely preaching the gospel. I am all for sticking to your core mandate. Stick to your calling.

I am for the preacher. I am for the man of God. I sympathise with these breed of men. It seems that we have male, females and preachers. They are in a category of their own. We treat them as such. Ministry is a high calling and the man of God has to contend with the challenges that come with the calling. It is a thankless ministry. It is a ministry that the world does not expect you to show your humanity. In fact it is treason to be seen to show human characteristics which is often misinterpreted as weakness. In some churches there are washrooms for ladies, gents and pastors. How dare you see the man of God go to the washroom or have them share it with common men? As a man of God, your children should be model citizens of society, your wife should be the perfect wife and your church should be the perfect church. How often does one of these go wrong...We subconsciously put standards for these men and women in our mortal minds and hold them against them if they fall. The Bible cautions against aspiring to be preachers. God help you if you wish to become a preacher, a teacher. Aspire to be a doctor, a pilot, a lawyer but no, not a preacher. God will judge you with greater strictness.

It is a pity therefore that many delve into this calling. Many are eager to bear the title, 'man of God'. It is prestigious and classy. At least that is how it used to be. It may not look like it now but we still hold these guys in high esteem consciously or subconsciously. There were days we could even not let the man of God queue in line. We gave them a pass. Today, we sneer and can't wait to be the first to cast a 'stone' once they are caught in a scandal. The media is awash with stories of 'men of the cloth' being caught behaving badly. We even have a whole hour of an investigation series on prime time to expose these 'frauds'. Obviously, they have to be kept accountable and we will expose all frauds. It is our duty. One thing we forget is that the issues we deal with today have been there all along. Jesus called them thieves, hirelings and God called them false prophets in the Old Testament. In fact Jesus went on to say that we should let the wheat and the tares grow together. Let them be so to speak. Let God deal with them. It is the only way to deal with preachers. Leave them in the hands of He who called them. Just as we have good dogs and bad dogs, so it is with preachers. We have good and bad preachers. Preachers nonetheless. Men of God. The fact that they behave badly does not mean they are not called of God. God will deal with His own in His own way.

In respect to Njoki Chege's victim, let her be. As Gamaliel in Acts 5 said, if it is of God, it will show. Let them be and God will separate the 'wheat' from the 'tares' in due season. Finally, I appeal to us who are of the household of faith; let us not be quick to parade ourselves to the world to be judged by them. Let us put our house in order. Let us deal with our folk in-house. Let us not propagate our faults especially those of the man of God. Let us accept that we are dealing with men. The man of God is first a man and then he is of God. Let us differentiate who we are dealing with per time; the man or the Spirit of God in a man. The spiritual man judges all things as the Bible says. Let the Spirit of God be a witness of right or wrong in you. Filter the good from the bad. I sign off with words from 1 Corinthians 6:1-10. They are apt and I need not add more. It is clear what God thinks of this.

      'When one of you has a dispute with another believer, how dare you file a lawsuit and ask a secular court to decide the matter instead of taking it to other believers! 2Don’t you realize that someday we believers will judge the world? And since you are going to judge the world, can’t you decide even these little things among yourselves? 3Don’t you realize that we will judge angels? So you should surely be able to resolve ordinary disputes in this life. 4If you have legal disputes about such matters, why go to outside judges who are not respected by the church? 5I am saying this to shame you. Isn’t there anyone in all the church who is wise enough to decide these issues? 6But instead, one believer sues another—right in front of unbelievers!7Even to have such lawsuits with one another is a defeat for you. Why not just accept the injustice and leave it at that? Why not let yourselves be cheated? 8Instead, you yourselves are the ones who do wrong and cheat even your fellow believers.9Don’t you realize that those who do wrong will not inherit the Kingdom of God? Don’t fool yourselves. Those who indulge in sexual sin, or who worship idols, or commit adultery, or are male prostitutes, or practice homosexuality, 10or are thieves, or greedy people, or drunkards, or are abusive, or cheat people—none of these will inherit the Kingdom of God. 'NLT

In Loving Memory of Dad

Happy new year! This is my first post of 2015 and I dedicate it to my late dad who passed on 23rd January, 2014. It is one year today since his demise. It seems like yesterday that we buried him.

Christopher Nduati Thuo was the man I called my father. My dad was a cool guy. I had the privilege of growing up with a father. I appreciate this now knowing how fragile life is. One minute you are here, the next you are gone. It would seem natural to grow up with a father because most of us are born to find two parents. You even think it is your right to have them both but the cruel hand of death quickly reminds you how fleeting life can be.

My dad was my go to guy. He was easy and totally laid back. Sometimes too laid back for my liking. My friends would just enjoy coming home and playing computer games as my dad would not bring a fuss. Speaking of computer games, yes, my dad brought home a computer in the early 90s and that was quite the phenomenon in those days. It is the equivalent of having Xbox or PS4 these days. I remember playing DOOM (that was the game!) or even WOLF (Remember that PC game?!). Most times though, my brother and I would be competing for space with dad. He spent hours on the computer. He was a computer guy and he was always on his computer. He was always typing stuff on a black screen that I later came to know was MS DOS. (Microsoft Disk Operating System). The 'stuff'' he was typing were actually commands. He was a coder. A big time programmer. He was using FoxPro and Lotus123. That was the thing back then. I didn't take much interest although I got to know a few commands. Today, I wish perhaps I would have taken more interest. What fascinated me most actually were the numerous diskettes otherwise known as 3½"floppy disks that he had. Can you imagine the size of a diskette? It could only hold up to 1.44MB free disk space. That's just unbelievable today! This meant copying data was a nightmare of sorts. You would insert the disk in the disk drive and copy part 1, then you would receive a prompt to insert disk 2 to continue copying and so on..Imagine what would happen when one of the disks would not read..Strike F1 (the default key for all issues).This happened a lot!

A diskette-lest we forget

Strike 'F1'. Sigh!

Dad was resilient. Ask any programmer and they would tell you how patient you need to be. You miss a comma and the code does not work as it should. Like most coders I know, dad was a loner. Few friends and hardly a talker. He did his talking on the computer. Dad was not all computers... okay maybe he was 90% computers....but he loved poetry. He had memorized the Desiderata and would always enjoy all forms of poetry. He would always journal. He had to have a diary every year and he would write on it religiously. He would write it at the end of the day and chronicle what had happened during that day. He would start by writing, 'Today I woke up at 5:30 a.m....' Speaking about waking up...Dad was just a freak with timekeeping. My dad was a morning person while like my mother, I am nocturnal and also love my sleep. I am also a heavy sleeper which he was not. Waking up at 5:30 a.m was routine for him whether it was Monday or Sunday. I dreaded going anywhere with him as he would remind me of the 'event' a week before and follow it up to the day before the event. Mom had reconciled with the fact that it was impossible to leave the house with dad, even though the destination was the same, as he would be such a nuisance in the morning. I didn't have the luxury. Needless to say, it was a big fight going anywhere with my dad. I would say morning found him awake. I would wake up to find him reading page 37 of 40 of the Daily Nation. His favourite page of the newspaper was the watchman section and the editorial cartoon by Gado. The newspaper had to be bought. I find myself today reading these sections as well. I am indeed the son of my father.

All through high school, dad attended all the parents' events. It goes without saying that he was always the first to arrive. He would reach the school at 6:30 a.m and sit at the watchman's gate reading the newspaper waiting for the 'school open day' to begin at 8:30 a.m. I was usually finished by 10 a.m. He would then give me the newspaper and some pocket money and tell me that mom would be coming in the afternoon with some food. In retrospect, I really appreciate that he was there for me. Oh yea, dad just loved hanging out with the 'watchie', the 'makaa' guy, the barber and the like. I even think his best friend was our barber, Njagi. He is most remembered by these guys.

Dad would speak to us in English and insisted that it was to be the language of communication in the house. He was fluent and articulate in the language but his Swahili was at best, pathetic. Mom would speak to us in Kikuyu. She didn't care. Dad and Mom would converse in Kikuyu and occasionally switch to English. I blame this upbringing for my poor mastery of the Kikuyu language today. Oh well...

Dad was healthy. By healthy I mean he was quite big. He had this beer belly which I loved to play with. I would put on a pillow under my clothes and start playing with it. He would push me away reluctantly which only made me bump him all the more since I interpreted it to mean that he was enjoying the moment. I look at myself today and my body seems to be going my father's way...

When my mom fell ill dad took care of her in a manner I would never forget. He cooked for her, he woke up early to make breakfast for her and escorted her to the bus stage. Dad could not drive. He had suffered an accident in his younger years which made him develop a phobia for driving. He didn't care much about a car. Anyway, he took care of mom till her last moment. He told me he was there in the ICU on the day my mother died. He was there when the ECG flatlined. He was there for her till the last second. He loved my mother and indeed death is what did them part. I remember that day vividly. I dropped him in town as I went to study for an exam that was scheduled for the next day. I was to pick him up in the evening as I also visited mom. I got a call at 4 p.m. from my uncle that I should meet dad at home and not at the hospital as mom had passed on. Dad gave me a warm hug the minute I entered the gate at home and told me, 'pole'. That moment is forever embellished in my memory.

Dad was not perfect. He made mistakes. Costly mistakes but today I choose to celebrate him rather than condemn him. He was just a man after all and like all men, he struggled. After my mom died, my relationship with dad suffered as he got entangled with one crazy woman who was out to swindle every little penny he had. The less said about this period the better. It all came tumbling down after years of estrangement. Dad fell ill and by God's grace we got reconciled. It was the most demanding 64 days of my life. Dealing with the emotions, forgiveness and then grief was quite tragic for me. Even during the estrangement period, dad would always send me a birthday text. I will miss those messages the most.

I would have loved dad to see his grand kids. They would have definitely enjoyed his computer skills and humour. Death is a sting felt by those who are left. It has been a year and the pain is still raw. It is of great comfort to know that my dad was born-again and as Deitrick Haddon song says, 'I will see him after a while'. On his burial, my tribute for him was a pseudocode that I will leave here as well.

Start()

{

Date of birth: 1953

}

main()

//Checking places he worked for 

for i=1 to 5

{

   for 

       A = Kenya Posts & Tele Corporation (K.P.T.C) , {System Analyst} ,{1977 to 1980}

       B = B.A.T , {Senior Computer Programmer} ,{1980 to 1987}

       C = Tamarind Management Ltd (Carnivore),{Senior Computer Programmer}

       D = {IBM} 

       

}

//Retirement

for (i=1; i<=5; i=i+1)

   {

   for A = December {2003} 

   }

 End Program

{

Date of death: 23rd January, 2014

}

Dad and his classmates in the 70s

Dad and I after graduation-the real TBT

My grandfather and my dad-,my favourite photo

Just dad

Till we meet again dad, rest in peace and do say hi to mom. I miss you both.