This villager, with his white hair, receding hairline and bushy beard in tow is a confused fellow. He is unable to fathom the essence of being, the reason for existence and the depth of life.
Lest the enemies of development start throwing stones while claiming that am no longer interested breathing in and out (as our PE teacher used to admonish us when we were exercising the bag of bones were were then) but let me be clear from the word go- am not interested in exploring any valley or hill in next life.
However long the after life is claimed to be- our village catechist says it lasts for ever and ever- I hope not to be a candidate soon. Although I still wonder how it shall be ‘life’ if it is after life, but I guess that a question better suited to those fellows who previously used to wear floor hugging dresses aka cassocks.
What is confusing the few marbles resident in my medulla oblongata (which has considerably shrank since the village sun decided to take over the wet season too) is lack of knowledge as to why and what for am about puttering in the village.
Our village catechist and his headmaster, the Vicar insist that we are around for the pleasure of the Almighty. That he made us to sing and dance to make him (our heavenly boss) smile. And when he smiles at us, good things happen. That his smile precedes rains and other forms of blessings. We are warned that if we don’t toe his line, not so good things will happen to us, not only in this green and tree filled village but also in the afterlife- that place again!
However, my two eyes show me different. In as much as it is a good idea to be a good ‘Christian’, the not so good Christians are thriving. Indeed, my jaundiced eye has seen many so called Christian, especially leaders, collaborate, associate and identify more with the monied village non Christians than the poor, sincere and deeply pious congregants. For me it seems to better to have deep pockets than deep faith.
So I hesitate to let my heart beat for faith.
Many a rich fellows are odious. These nabobs think the sun shines from their rear. Not only would they splash your villager with muddy water but will literally add an insult to the splash. It is not the poor who grab, hoard and accumulate for the unknown future but often many rich will fail the humanity test. Kindness, humility. love (not lust) and genuine happiness are amiss.
Often, when they give, it is a trap or in hope of future double recompense. Soon, the search for prosperity and power becomes a trap and a vicious cycle. They seek money wealth, dominance and fame not as a means to an end but as an end in itself. So happiness has to be purchased. Sleep becomes a foreigner who has to be coaxed with pills. Love is an allusion, a commodity which can be bought- and whose supply is terminated as soon as money runs short.
The end product is just like that of religiosity- an empty fatigued shell whose nose is full of soil.
Nobody would ever live for want. Life of poverty want and need dehumanizes an individual to a level lower than that of an animal. One is seen as a fool, a forgotten trash sack in the market. One is deprived of the dignity that makes live worth living, a state no self respecting village should ever allow its members to be in.
Some villagers live for honorifics. Previously, it was the lawyers who used to display low pride, referring to each other as learned friends. Today, every accountant in the village is CPA so and so. Every perspiring MCA aspirant is a mheshimiwa. I have heard of college professors who would fail you for not referring to them by the correct honorific. It is indeed a shallow lake to dredge.
So now, you understand why this silly villager is confused. He has attempted to understand what the fuss about life is all about but he always gets to a cul- de-sac.