Back in 2014 I made a move that made my heart capsize in fear. Let me explain how I looked like before I can share what I did. I promise to deliver on my promise, okay?
I had two pairs of trousers and six shirts. Since one trouser (black) and five shirts (white, black, purple, baby pink and red) were for worship ministry at CITAM Woodley, I ended up wearing a white shirt that had tiny dots and became the 1-trouser-man. With time, my brown trouser begun fading and fraying at the heels, and though I had poked extra holes on my belt, it still couldn’t firmly attach to my bony waist.
When it rained, the frayed parts of my brown trouser sucked the rain water while the holes in the soles of my shoes trapped mud, rain water and pebbles. On Christmas day, I couldn’t command my cracked lips to smile. I still don’t smile that much, but when I do, Mom Ingrid says it is the best thing you will ever see!
Peter aka Pistar and I were at the church basement, when a package of cooking oil, sugar, rice, chapati and ugali flour was handed to each of us. The whole group celebrated and thanked God for His provision. We could finally experience the joy that came to the world after Baby Jesus was born.
On our way out, a lady gave us two cup cakes. A few hours later, Pistar and I, sat in my single room above the Seniors Driving School at Kawangware, eating the cup cakes with a mixture of cold water, sugar and tea leaves. We had food packages from church and yet lacked the one thing that could turn them into a Christmas meal.
Kerosene!
Deadbeat and broken men shouldn’t cry in toilets
Well, God had provided and I knew He didn’t forget kerosene. Those around us failed to be sensitive to our needs. Because we were deadbeat and broken men, we didn’t have the courage to ask for money to buy kerosene.
Only those who have been deadbeat and broke will understand the depths we had sunk in. I don’t know what usually happens. But when someone is desperate and broke, their minds go blank. They can’t think, reason or ask for help – even when they desperately need it!
I considered the options I had and decided I was going to get married in 2015. I asked my wife-to-be to look at me the way I saw and captured myself on my vision board. In my mind’s eyes, I saw myself as a successful writer, author and creator of ideas who was using his wealth to empower the boy-child, one boy at a time! By God’s unfailing love, favour and grace, she said yes and the 1-trouser-man went back to Kawangware.
A Product of Pillars of Support
This was a product of having absolute faith in God, my gifts as a human being and the few people who trusted and believed in my potential, despite my flaws, past failures and self-doubt.
I see the same potential in every man – the boy-child, men, women and girls – that the society may consider as deadbeat, broke and direction-less. I don’t want to know who the heck Nyakundi is.
However, I have one request to make.
Do not let a deadbeat and broken man to cry in the toilet
Do not let a deadbeat and broken man to cry in the toilet. Don’t let looks to deceive you. Ask the Holy Spirit to empower you in calling out the Royal Bloodline resident in every human being.
Some of us – perhaps Peter Pistar Mbugua – the boys in juvenile prison, Grade E students, Mama Mboga, security guards, house helps and shamba boys, take a longer time and need more help, push and patience to become a sparkling star. Look deep my empowered sister.
Again I say.
Look.
Deep!!!
PS: Pistar recently joined Bible School in Machakos and still needs help with food, accommodation and much more. How can you help?
