IMMUNITY

For those who have never understood the concept of immunity, do not worry, I am going to help you. You can thank me later.
Many of us use matatus*. All of us have EVER used matatus. (With the exception of those of us who were born with diamond spoons in their mouths) I am privileged to be a beneficiary of the wonderful matatu sector almost every day of my life. (I’m not being ironic. Those people really help us a lot yet all we do most of the time is complain.) Many a times, it is a source of my daily dose of laughter. I recall several incidents of people who board them, stay close to five minutes, and when the vehicle starts moving they suddenly recall that they left their luggage behind. Or once in a while; someone boards one for destination X thinking it is one for destination Y. Whenever I saw the reactions of these people upon realizing their mistakes, well, nothing really happens. I maintain my grave serious face, which could be taken for showing pity. If you were to peel off my mask and dissect my brain, I assure you what you would see would be the exact opposite of the exterior.
Yes, you are right, my mind would be rolling on the floor laughing hysterically, at the same time pointing an accusing finger to those people. How could they forget such important things? Is this how choosy amnesia affects people? (By that I mean choosing to forget such things while in the matatu). Yes, these were the kind of thoughts that were running through my mind. Yesterday, yet another person was kicked out of the matatu for not having enough fare. Only that this time my thoughts synchronized with my facial expression. Both empathizedwith the man. You might be tempted to ask what on earth was responsible for this radical change.
Well, one day as I was going home, I ransacked my bag, removing everything and returning them. Bad news: my purse was nowhere to be found. This was no dream, it was reality. Had I stayed in the matatu for more than five minutes without bothering to confirm if I had my fare? Had I been too sure that I would never make such a silly mistake? The answer to both questions is yes. Yet here I was, making the same mistake I had termed as silly. Funny what God uses to help me grow.
To cut this short story shorter, sometimes we think we are immune to making mistakes, or silly mistakes for that matter. Wake up and smell the reality coffee; human nature is fallible. This is not only about the matatus. Think about that girl who got a child out of wedlock. Think about that business person who missed his flight, the food that happened to have too much salt, the child who messed up with something that you treasure. Are you quick to point an accusing finger? Are you quick to judge without bothering to know the details? Are you angered easily?
The only person who is immune to making mistakes is God. Don’t feel bad if you make mistakes. As Natalie Grant sings in her song Perfect People: come as you are, broken and scarred and be changed by a perfect God. Do not be quick to judge people, you’ve not reached anywhere near perfection, so you have no right. Try to understand people no matter how inexcusable those mistakes they make might be because who knows? You might end up making the same mistakes or even worse.
It is one thing to make a mistake unknowingly, and another to make mistakes knowingly. I have been talking about the first thing. I rest my case.

I can already hear some of you heaving a sigh of relief. Thankfully I didn’t stuff a long explanation of the process of immunity down your throats. Even if I wanted, I could not do it. It is beyond me. The only one who knows it is the One above.
*matatu – public service vehicle in Kenya

PAPA AND MAMA, PLEASE COME FOR ME

Dear papa and mama,

Though many surround me, I feel lonely. Though many claim to love me, I feel unloved. Though many accept me, I have no sense of belonging. Though I smile all the time, my heart is heavy. I am sick of my plastic smiles. We last saw each other ten years ago. That was the last time I smiled genuinely. Papa and mama, please come back. The flame of my hope to see you again used to burn ferociously; right now it is just a flicker. One thing still remains though; the fire has refused to die.

Ours was one happy family. Though we slept hungry on many days, though our clothes were mere patchworks, though our abode was not something to write home about, you always had indefatigable spirits. You worked relentlessly to fend for me. We all had hopes of a better future. Never at once was I ashamed of you. I always knew that I would one day change the state of affairs. However, my dreams were shattered due to your act that day. Despite all that, I still wish to see you again. When will you come back to see me?

That fateful day, I remember it as if it was yesterday. You told me to wear my Sunday best, and to pack my scanty belongings. You took me to a place, where I found many other children about my age. You promised to come pick me later on. I was shown a place where I would be sleeping, well until the day that you pick would me. I waited expectantly for you but you never showed up. I cried myself to sleep every night as reality dawned on me. I cried till the tears could not come out anymore.

Why did you take me to a children’s home? Did I become a weight on your shoulders that became too difficult to bear? Did I do anything wrong to you? Am I not worth having a family? Did I embarrass you in any way? Why did you lie to me? Papa and mama, do you know how your absence in my life affected and continues to affect me? I however still wait for the day you will come back. Please come for me.

I apologize for anything wrong I did that led you to abandon me. When you come for me, all the pain that you caused me will be fade away. All the brokenness that I have known will be healed. I will find answers to my questions. We will be reunited and be the happy family that we once were. My heart longs for that day. Papa and mama please come back. Be part of my life once again.

Your child