Ladies taking front row seat, Nairobi Church. Photo courtesy
By Scophine Otieno
Its SUNDAY… Prayer day.
Reminds me of my grandpa and his special way of praying.
The man would present his case before the Almighty Judge like a seasoned Advocate.
But also heap adoration and supplication marinated in humour in a manner God will have no choice but to pay attention.
I specifically remember his prayer the day I was set to join college.
“The mysterious one with eyes lager than the earth, if you stretch your hands, who would dare fold them and if you fold them? Well, woe unto whoever thinks of stretching them.
Jooba (Jehova) we are nothing but toddlers who scream to have a bath but when given water just splash it, barely getting their bellies cleaned, I hear many brag of their riches but can barely feed a village, aren’t you the one whose wealth is being munched by Man, birds and elephants?
We are sinners unworthy of your grace, I particularly sinned last evening when my wife brought food that looked as bland as it tasted and for a moment, I thought of marrying a third wife”
The grin on my father’s face when he blurted that line got me stifling a gawk. (I never close my eyes for prayers)
“Your child is set to join no school ahead, give her wisdom like you gave Solomon the son of David who could communicate with ants, shield her like a hen does her chicks
As she heads back to ” Nyorobi” (Nairobi) she is going to board things molded by the sinful hands of human beings, be the driver, conductor and the engine.”
Would have written this in luo but I’ve had enough petitions from my larger audience unfamiliar with my local dialect. I don’t know if I’ve done the translation any justice but heck, God keep that old man.
I think his prayers are doper than the ribariabbbbba, shakarashata, wakanda stuff I hear around.
How do your old folks pray? Humour me…
