It's my turn to preach

By Rwandet Choge

A born again reader recently asked me to use this column to preach the good news of Jesus Christ. I didn't quite know what to tell her. Okay, let me be honest. I was bowled over. All along, I had been thinking that my work - if you can call it that - was only required reading in River Road watering holes.

This is not the kind of literature you’d want your kids to be quoting, much less end up in the church spews.

So after thanking her for the compliments, I did my best to let her know why this good news idea might not be a very good idea.

I told the lovely lady (quite a tempting prospect this) that this is not exactly the forum to sermonise and editorialise. That in this ‘business’, I was certain to get divorced by readers, an outcome I am not too keen on seeing as my Facebook fan page was the least visited destination online.

Public coffers

But she was having none of it. She said that throughout the year I had been preaching the gospel of drinking and encouraging stealing from public coffers. I was guilty as charged and just had to accept the challenge.

Since I do not have any experience, I might as well start from where many of us, sinners and saints alike, don’t seem to have a problem converging: Christmas.

I know what you’re thinking. Christmas! Oh no, not again! Thank God it’s over. Let’s dump the memories in our mental dustbins and get on with our mundane existence, at least for a year.

I wouldn’t go that far myself though. Yes, it’s been over for over three weeks now, but guess what, I still haven’t quite come to terms with this fact. I guess, like a kid, I never get enough of the sweets, er... beer, and now wish Christmas would come every day of the year. But wait a sec, isn’t that what they say on TV?

Well, since there are too many TV services these days, I decided there was no need to visit the tent structure a stone’s throw away from my house, after all I can hear most of what goes on there from the comfort of my bed.

Tevevised services

Anyway, I have since come to be quite a believer in televised services. They are accompanied by beautiful singing and wonderful testimonies. I especially like one led by a baby-faced preacher from Texas. The pastor, who doesn’t look a day over 26, is quite a hit with the ladies, as I have come to discover.

In my many aimless walks in the city, I have seen a good number of Nairobi women wielding some of his motivational titles. The good guy always preaches about not letting life get the better of you.

This is the kind of message you need to hear after blowing away rent in anasa. Of course, the same cannot be said about grandpa Pat Robertson.

Oops, I have run out of space. Let the spirit of Christmas live in you every day, is what I was trying to say!