Found God

Firstly, I got to admit that am not much of a prayer, at least not the Church kind of prayer. I don’t know the Lord’s Prayer word for word, but I know the message by heart. Saying the grace before a meal or a quick “Lord bless this food before we take it” is not a problem though.

I was born a Christian, Anglican Church of Kenya member I am. My mum bought that hard covered yellow book with big words and cute pictures called “Bible Stories”, which means even though I don’t read the Bible much nowadays, I do have an idea on what it says, the key message at least. I went to church up until I was around 11 years old, and Sunday school taught me another or two other things about God, before the “double dragon” gave me the choice between the 8:30 viewership and the church, I chose the former. Although I attended the classes one needs to be confirmed, I was a month younger than the required age for one to be confirmed, 11 years, 10 months and a couple of days old is not old enough for a Christian to be confirmed according to the shepherd. This meant no holy communion for yours truly. I was born a Christian, but am a lousy one.

When I was much younger, it didn’t matter much that my relationship with God was flawed, it even seemed macho in a way. Telling someone I haven’t been to church since 1996 felt like I beat God in a chess game or something, like I deserved a trophy for the longest time without attending a church service competition if there is anything like that. But as I grew older, I realized that to be complete, one needs to have a relationship with God. At first it was really difficult considering I hadn’t talked to God in a long time; I had no idea where I should start.

A couple of years ago, I went to a certain Church close to where I live, me and my cousin were feeling a little holy that morning despite been hung over. The praise and worship was wonderful I remember, plus the choir master was extremely hot. It was lively, probably because majority of the congregation were quite young, flexible too and quite conversant with the dance moves of the day, F2 dance moves of the day. I could fit in here. It looked like a bunch of lost sheep trying to look for God just like me, trying to balance the hype, wild, energetic and promiscuous lifestyle they were living and the search for God. A little sad the sight was, but I am not to judge according to the Christian teachings my Sunday school teacher handed down to me when we were tighter.

This was a special Sunday; I don’t know why God wanted me to go to his house on this particular day but he did have his reasons. I believe we all have to follow a script penned down by the big guy, who meant the script dictated that on this particular Sunday, I was supposed to be here, and so was this American preacher. This preacher had a message from God. The message that God decided to relay through this vessel was, “Plant a seed, and wait to sow”. God wants us to sacrifice the little that we had for him to multiply the nothing that we would be left with. 50 dollars was the seed initially, everyone in the house who would like God to look at him favorably was to lift his hand and the closest usher to him will hand them an envelope where he will put his 50 dollar (50 * 80 = 4,000 Ksh., for those not so good at math) seed. It was around month end and around half the congregation was not bothered with that kind of amount. Am not sure if God talked to him in the middle of the sermon, or he realized that not everyone in here has a source of income, the dress code (flashy) had deceived the messenger, or even God himself. Considering how full the parking lot was, I would be deceived too. In the middle of his sermon, he realized some people, me included, couldn’t just come up with 50 dollars on the spot, the seed had to be a little lower, 25 dollar seed y’all. Quite a sizeable number lifted their hands and the ushers rushed to issue the ground unto which the seed was to be planted. Still, some of us couldn’t come up with Ksh. 2,000 on spot either and the seed went down to 20 dollars, then 10 dollars and finally to whatever one could afford.

This was the first Church service I had attended in a long time, except for a few funerals and one or two weddings. God says not to judge according to the Bible. Maybe the big guy had a lapse when writing my script but this was no way to try and bring me back to the Church. A couple of chapters later, the script put me in Church again. The pastor was not feeling well and couldn’t make it to church on that day; his co-pastor slash wife was leading the congregation. This church loved their pastor and co-pastors so much; they referred them as mum and dad. Daddy wasn’t feeling very well and mummy knew the perfect gift to brighten up his day. Kids gather around, let’s surprise daddy with “A PRADO”!!! Don’t judge anybody Serge, the Bible says not to.

Finding God was going to be harder than anticipated, the only way I knew was quickly was turning out to be a dead end. Television had its services too, E-Church they call it and the message was more or less the same, help the pastor spread the word of God. The Bible says don’t judge, so I won’t. I tried a couple of different churches for a while but I wasn’t feeling it, it was like they were pushing me further from God than drawing me closer. It felt like they needed me to leave all else and find God through them rather than pointing me in the right direction for me to find God on my own, have a personal relationship with God as they kept saying. 

I didn’t own a Bible, still don’t (you are not allowed to judge me either) but I had a very convenient phone. I bookmarked the online Bible and every once in a while I would search a random scripture and try to break it down. I did that with the Quran and a few religious scriptures sites www.religionfacts.com, www.religion-online.org, www.brill.nl, and a couple of more sites. At first the messages were conflicting, especially when it came to the practices and rituals, but a closer look brought out one thing was clear in the 50 + religions that we have. They believe of one Supreme Being that dictates their lives, creator of the universe, judge of all humans,

“There is only one God” –Isaiah 43:10, 44:6, John 17:3, 1 Corinthians 8:5-6, Galatians 4:8-9

“Righteous is he who believes in Allah and the last day and the Angels and the Scriptures and the Prophets” Quran 2:177

“Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is unique/alone” in the Torah - Deuteronomy 6:4 (Judaism)

Basically, most religions believe in the one God, the one Supreme Being, the creator and ruler of the universe. We do have a few religions that have multiple gods, but there is one who is superior to other deities. At least 53% of the world population believes in the God of Abraham, one Supreme Being.

At this juncture of my search for God, I partially understood a thing or two about the big guy. He’s there, I knew that much. For one to understand him though, you had to talk to him. This was easier said than done especially because I didn’t have a direct line to him, or at least a location, somewhere we could sit and talk or something along these lines. A friend of mine, staunch Christian, once told me if you want to talk to God, you should talk to him like a friend. My aunt Cate, God rest her soul in peace, told me he’s like a parent, a father to be precise. If ever I needed something, I should just ask him. My understanding was God has his moments. There are times when he needs to act like a parent and us his children, and times when he needs us to be his friends. When we were younger, we were not supposed to question our parents, they were always right regardless of what everyone else told us. As we grew older, we started questioning some of the things that they do, decisions that they make for us, the way they relate with their peers, small details here and there. Why should I do this? Why shouldn’t I do that or go there? Whys’ and what’s’. In our search for self and God, it’s no different. We question why God does this or that, what he expects of us, why does he have to be the all knowing father? What’s the point of free will if he can bend us to his will in a flash? Why did he create us and condemn some of us to hell?

Prayer becomes essential, talk to God, ask him and he will answer, or at least show you how to find these answers. As a parent, he takes care of his own, especially when we are young in the faith. As we grow, he lets us roam, allows us to question life, question his decisions, and rebel against his will because he knows that is the only way to find our place in his house. If we think we can make a better decision than him, he lets us try (I believe this is the purpose of free will), so we can learn he knows better than us. When we pray for something, he weighs your strengths, your needs, and your weaknesses to see if you need his help or you can do it on your own. Sometimes he’ll help, and sometimes he’ll let you sweat it out.

As you grow in your faith, it reaches a point where you become friends with God, the same way we become friends with our earthly fathers after attaining a certain age. We discuss our ideas, throw them around in a conversation, he gives you pointers and let you make the final decision. If you get to this point, you can proudly say you know God. It’s at this point in your relationship with God that you should take it upon yourself to lead others to find him too, walk with them or at least point them in the right direction.

As a father, he understands that not all of his children will toe the line. He might punish you every once in a while, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. He will reward a well behaving child, but that does not mean he loves him more either. He will love you regardless of who you turn out to be because regardless of what you turn out to be, you are still his child, and that is something no one can take away from you. 

Personally, am still in the questioning stage. I question my imperfections, if am created in God’s image, does that mean God makes mistakes, regrets some of the things that he does, makes rash decisions every once in a while, does my imperfections reflect on his imperfection? Like father like son they say around here. I rebel against his will, and do things just to test his limits. I know he understands am growing in my faith, and as a good father, he lets me roam and rebel because he knows that is the only way for me to eventually understand that without him I can’t do much. Run around kid, but eventually, you will have to come back home.

I was born a Christian yes, but being a Christian does not mean knowing God. Neither does being a Muslim, a Jew, a Buddhist or any of the 50 + religions worldwide guarantees that one knows God better than the next guy. The relationship between God and self is a personal one, the same as of an earthly father and his children. Yes we are all one big family, but when we need something outside the norm (basic needs and breathe of life), we go to him alone and not as Christians, Muslims, Jews or whichever branch of Gods family you hang on to. If you go to him alone, he will listen to you as an individual and not as a family.

Let's begin with a prayer next time

''You have to start with a prayer Serge, the Lords' prayer'' I keep repeating to myself as I  run to plug my phone in a charger before i lose this flow. It's a short distance from the rooftop to the living room where the charger is plugged in but it feels like quite a distance, in flow time, it's quite a distance. The flow waits for no man, just like time. I can see and feel the phone vibrating on my phone when that evil son of a b**** bad timing m*********r (am guessing i can cuss here considering if your child can read this and understand it, it means he or she has heard it from you, you bad parents,) low battery devil. In the middle of my flow you're just going to dump me? There is no difference between you.....and he did it again, and again, stupid m****f......there is no difference between you, the evil stepmother, yes, the Cinderella stepmother evil and....and yes, anything and everything you can find, whether it's insults, insults or insults. Throw them at that low battery pop up. Irritating little c***!!


I plug my phone to the charger before that evil low battery pop up totally messes up this entire flow. I sit on the floor, far right corner at Jay Jays' place and before opening my pad, I see this little girl crying on TV. Initially, what caught my attention was her voice, mellow, love seeking, lost voice. I look up at the TV and start watching this little girls' story looking to finding herself, literally trying to figure out whose blood she's got. Everyone keeps telling her, ''This is your mother, this is not your mother and so on, so on, so forth'' (now say it like Tony Soprano, or imagine Tony Soprano saying it) ''this is your mooother' this is not your mother, this is not your faaather'' (see, see, it made you smile right? right? From this point forward, this story although written in English, it has an Italian accent, thus the Latin font.

(Mental note:
........yo' yo' serge'
......ha
....don't forget, Italian font..
......cool, thanks champ)

Yes people, written notes are better than mental notes. 

The story, in an Italian accent, this girl is real sad, she only wants to know who smiles the most watching her grow. From falling off the swings, off bicycles, on tables and chairs (not you intoxicated gang.... Biko likes to call us gang, somebody was complaining about it in his house, yeah this blog is my house, my glass house and it breaks easy so don't throw stones, throw them at Biko's house his glass is harder to break, direction to Biko's house ...BIKOZULU .....). As I was saying, not falling on chair's and tables either because you are watching that girl rather than the said furniture, yes you virgins do that a lot, (there are virgins here rrrriight???) Or under the influence of strongly intoxicating liquids, ''curse of the working class'' they call it, number one believer of the above thrown around saying.

Let me explain this to you, on a personal level and see if we relate. I started playing with fiery drinks sometime back, quite a while too, somewhere about high school between second and third year, and I think I liked these fiery drinks, I think. Polo, had some K.C, and although i knew how hard this shit was from that little incident at grandmas' a while back (the whole operation Kibuku story in Karegi in Uranus: Retracing, scroll down when you are done here and check out that story). I knew this shit was hard and I had sworn before my grandmother and God....hehehe, chekeni tu, you don't want to swear before my grandmother, i have seen what she has done to her goats, the fear in their eyes is evident whenever they hear her voice from a mile away. I'll make a point of telling you about her, best grandmother ever. Where were we? Oh yeah, if you swear not to touch this, "I will never put my hands on that", you are always curious if the taste ever changed since you swore, the same thing with most men. Take the way they like electronics (men I mean) almost the same way they do their froth, once you are shocked the first time round, about five years or there rounds (not exactly 5 years of age, but not less than 5 either) playing with your aunties car battery she used  to use while watching her color TV. Real colour TV, not those great walls y'all had and 
some hawkers sold you a yellow bag and pulled that ''kiini macho'' move....ablah kadablah, whoooaaa, colour TV pap........, nah, nah, (shaking my finger) nah, a real colour TV. She didn't know how attentive we were in that science class when the teacher was explaining how stainless steel conduct electricity, she used to hide the connecting cables, my aunt that is.


This operation was not to be taken lightly, operation ''KUNA NURU GIZANI''. We had being taking notes, where does this wire go, where can we get this and that, and more notes, discuss them, collect the weaponry, and on, you know, break this bitch down you know.


Come Saturday, Operation ''KUNA NURU GIZANI'' launching in 5...4....3...


Hold it right there, why did we choose Saturday as the launch date? Is that what you asked? Okay people, let me answer this young ladys' question real quick and then we'll finish up in a few.

You see,
......''whats' your name miss?''
... . ''Laura''
..... ''You see Laura, my aunt was a church woman, still is, she works for God all the time, it's work and church, church and work all day every day. Saturday ''church this'', Sunday ''visiting so and so after Church'', Monday after work ''something about a committee about something about...... in church''. I do feel for my uncle Mwangi sometimes. You see, my uncle loooooves his Citizen lager, he loves her deep i tell you. I remember this one time when he had to give her up, my aunt had converted him, but believe you me preachers......... (reminds me of those christian union guys back in high school, waking you up at midnight to preach for you, you know how many times i got saved? The trick is, getting saved immediately he shows up, then he'll just pray and leave, you can always say you never really got saved since you were asleep thus you got sleep saved, that don't really count, (scratching my balls))....... Preachers, the froth is very, very convincing, and she fights dirty too.

By the way, you are still reading this in an Italian accent, you know Tony Soprano kind of accent, you know, "aaaahh, forget about it" (fagetaabourit).

So my uncle went to church, my aunt dragged him he claims, (not that i don't believe him and all) but his citizen was not going down without a fight. Everywhere he looked, she was there, eeeevverywhere he turned, citizen was there smiling at him, in posters, promotions and these promotions were becoming more and more frequent, and then, here comes the kicker.......

Ci-ti-zen (banging your feet)
Ci-ti-zen (men upping and leaving)
Ci-ti-zen (men walking to their local)

Y'all remember that sound, sing along if you please. My uncle, now arching his back forward to see the advertisement better, to see if he recognized anyone......, nah, nah not in person, the way you'd be rolling with someone and ''......hehehehe Pato, jicheki.....'', if you come across some fat guy in the streets, or '.....Jr jicheki......'', when you see some skinny black guy like Tergat. It was the same way my uncle watched that citizen ad. He could see Mr. Kipande cracking a joke of how he whipped innocent Sergents ass in that afternoons art class (to this day my story sticks, I had made that collage, pimped it all weekend, working night and day, and then, Sunday night, the devil came calling. Out of nowhere, thin air productions right there, an angel appears and literally crashed the devil so bad to this day, the devil cant touch me

.......(humming)
Can't touch this 
Can't touch this (now doing the dance)
Can't touch this (robotic dance).........

The devil can't touch me. When i realized how grateful i was, i looked around the room looking for something worth the angels fete, the one thing i loved the most in that tiny room i shared with my sister; was that collage. Mr. Kipande aka ''Kigo'' didn't quite buy that but you gotta admit, the story was well thought out, if it were someone else, they would probably have bought it)

Now, when my uncle Mwangi watched that ad, he saw Mr. Kipande and his stale jokes, Mr. Gikonyo pretending to be cool, Mr. Gichungi and his i own that bar attitude, reflections of all his mutual lovers of the froth. Eventually he gave up the fight and his darling citizen welcomed him back like the rich man did his prodigal son, with love.


Now came Saturday, Auntie Eunice has a church thing and his husband has ''some errands'' to run, you know he can't jeopardize his mission by proclaiming his thirst level."

"Anymore questions, mmhh? Laura??" 

Operation ''KUNA NURU GIZANI'':

For the plugs, we decided a hanger would work just fine, can't really remember whose idea it was but the most likely culprit would be Kamande, John Kamande, may The Lord rest his soul in eternal peace. I still don't understand why i have to be the one who makes mistakes so that others can learn. Okay class, listen up:  What not do when trying to power your TV using the car battery without the connecting cables. DO NOT use a hanger, nor any other metal that conducts electricity and place it on both terminals, again I tell you, DO NOT. Your ass will be trembling for at least a half hour regardless if it's 1.00 o'clock in mid January, that's the kind of shock that you'll be served.


The point here, first time you are shocked, it's frightening, you here the voices screaming louder, ''drop, the hanger, drop the hanger'', but you still won't, you hold it for a couple more seconds because for some reason i believe your subconcsience needs a thrill too. Same with our other ills, the first time you tried this or that, you never really knew what you were getting yourself in to, and if the thrill is serene, you keep going back for more shocks, pretending to fix the electronics all the time. Alcohol kinda feels the same, cigarettes too.


Back in High School and Polo got himself some Kenya Cane. I had swore to never touch that filthy evil drink before God and my grandmother, but if I didn't act like I liked it, I might not hang out with the cool crew, bad, bad, mistake. Am not saying that alcohol is bad for you, no, I actually encourage those who do partake it legally or illegally, to drink the most that they can and recruit more followers. However, I know y'all don't take me seriously but here goes, the liver is not fully grown until one is past 21 years of age, it's like trying to mince meat using a sticky machine, tiring. That's how your liver felt when you attacked it at the tender age of 14, crashed so young. Let those teetotallers live a sober 21 years then recruit them, let's grow an army of healthy drunkards. I knew I shouldn't start drinking at that age because my folks say so, but i also needed to meet some cool kids.

Anyway, Polo reminded me why i was curious about this particular drink. I wasn't really on earth after imbibing this liquid bliss, but still i was, you know, in no man's land, somewhere between two worlds, loud vs quite, sometimes slipping towards the loud world but eventually, quiet wins. 

I, like most of you I believe succumbed to the pressure from your peers and joined the let's drown our souls one beer at a time gang -Getting used to using this word-. Without an income source, we were dependent only on pocket money, a couple hundreds, or a grand on a good day to last you a whole one and a half months. Considering that we were allowed to go wherever we wanted every Saturday as long as you were back to school by 5:30 pm, ''outings'' we called them. This coupled with school trips, both official and unofficial, this wallet was not smiling at you, whatever was in it was not enough to finance your new found vice. First lesson, you get drunk faster when you drink alone, but you drink for longer and more alcohol when you drink as a group. This means if you chuck a sok each, or 50 bob each, this culminated into a mini party, our poison was on the low budget area codes. Good class that was (University of Keroro), if you didn't take notes, you can always have mine.


You clear high school, and things get even worse, without pocket money, you have zero, zit, nada, zero source of income. You try out some shoddy jobs like collecting trash and cleaning the estate, for a small fee (big, big, BIGUP to ''Ngara youth'' -Augustine Owino Oyalo,Swagga Maine,Frederic 'obi' Mtale, yours truly Sergent Karegi and the Yakut brothers - way to go men), you try your hand as a holiday classes tutor (had one pupil, I let the kid play computer games and he snitched on me, like he doesn't understand the meaning of a cool teacher), and some computer jobs here and there (by the way, Justo na Paul hawakunilipa kumake ile logo). You do get by, indulge in some cheap keg, some napoleon, Kane extra, among some cheap drinks, but you do get by.

Then opportunity knocks, and when you answer, employment awaits. After all those hours you've read, went to the library and read, they decided to offer you some peanuts, lack of experience they quote, but since you had never handled your own money you gladly accept the offer. Come month end, regardless of how thin your wallet is, you have to prove that you are actually employed, not one of the guy who dress up to go and chill at Jeevanjee gardens for most of the day. The more money you make, the higher the degree of proof needed, beyond reasonable doubt evidence. Your wallet is your lawyer and his job is to convince this jury of peers, erase all doubt that you are actually employed.

And that is the story behind the saying, ''the curse of the working class''.

Anyway, the story of this young gal (hey.....hey, the girl at the top of the page.....yeah, yeah that one.......yeah) all she wants to know is who her real parents are. Even before I lifted my eyes to put a face to that little sad voice, lost with little hope of being found, i could feel her pain. It was sad, i felt bad for that little girl crying herself to sleep, feeling insecure around family, she moved me, she would move you too. And it got me thinking. Our souls are like that little girl, searching for self out there, sometimes within yourself. We do not know who to follow, to trust with our fragile little hearts, who to take in this journey. We are lost within ourselves, like that little girl our souls are searching for their way home too.

Anyway, before all the distractions, the battery low devil, the little girl, mixed flows in my head, today's post was supposed to be about my relationship with God, as our father and we his children. About times he deems okay to just let us be kids and when he decides parents need their own parent time too, how I believe or how I think he runs this world. The idea was to say the lords prayer, and then breakdown my God to y'all. Anyhooo.... It didn't come to pass, at least not today, I hope to do that real soon. Until then, this is dedicated to the few who unintentionally forgot how to pray:

Our Father, who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name;

thy kingdom come;

thy will be done,

in earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive them that trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation;

but deliver us from evil.

[For thine is the kingdom,

the power, and the glory,

for ever and ever.]

Amen.