Br. Fahari

We call him BB, second B is for Boy, but as for the first B, you can put whatever you wish. This is one brother I call crazycrazy! 

Not crazy in the sense of “grhhhhh mad”, but crazy in a pleasant sense, comical crazy. The last time I heard Pope Francis say something to the youths I thought about Fahari, it was about saints. He said “…We need saints among youths… we need youths who wear jeans and still be saints…” Now, I guess the pope must have known Fahari in person. I am yet to see him in anything else other than jeans. I remember Fahari telling me, “mimi nguo zangu ni hizi za kihunihuni, sina zingine.” Well, that does not contradict the pope’s thinking, does it?

Br. George

            Many wonderful things that happen among the capuchins, one of them is the coming together for evening prayer. Brothers living in the big cities understand just how almost impossible that is. The cities are noisy, prayers often take place at sunset, right when the cities are coming to life, someone is stuck in the traffic (I suspect someone was once held at the Westgate, he appeared after the hostages were released and he looked equally scare and fatigued). simply put, there are whole lot of reasons why the environment in the city is basically not conducive for these evening meetings.

However, there are a few times I was in the same community with George - in Westlands and Starehe - and it was different! I tend to think community prayer is the one thing that counts most, according to him. One time he told me, “Brother umecheza football? Umetoa jasho? umefurahi? Sasa mwili uko sawa kwa sala? hiyo ni sawa.” Now, that was a funny relation, football and praying? Back in Lusaka, during the annual visitations, while all other superiors went out there to make great times around Lusaka, George was always seated in the chapel for Evening prayer. During such days, I, a member of the lot that is usually a few minutes behind starting time, made it in time - trying to emulate my superior. Students from other jurisdictions would say, “ah! this superior of yours is praying too much, he is setting the standards too high for you Kenyans. Most of you won’t make it!”

Br. Monima

            A person should not and cannot be defined by his origin and past! I have known Monima for a while now. I have also known “the Barracks” - Hola Boys. There is not even the slightest trace of the gloomy face of “the Barracks” in Monima, yet that is where he schooled. He is a brother who happens to give a kind of exact the opposite of that face. One fascinating thing with him is his ability to articulate his power of reason at an amazing ease and even at times funnily.  

 While travelling with him once, since I have a taste for troubles - if I don’t get myself into one, one will get itself into me – I encountered one in form of an immigration officer. The officer kept talking and magnifying the issue. I was even convinced that I was indeed on the wrong. Fortunately, Monima intervened because he realised I was helpless, “Excuse me, please, try to understand, this man does not know how to travel, he has never travelled, this is his first time he has travelled, please forgive him and when he goes back he will correct that”. The office was that easily convinced. I ended up with a mixture of laughter and anger; Angry, because Monima portrayed me as one alien idiot. Laughter because the officer had been so easily fooled!

When the officer was gone Monima hilariously said, “shida imeisha, hao ni hongo walitaka”! 

Br. Paul

“Mapema ya Mjinga ni mahali ameamkia!” That is what Paul says. So if a fool wakes up at midday, it is okay, it is still too early. If a fool realizes at his fifties that all through his life he has been chasing the wind, that is okay, it is still too early for him – of course we all know that that is pretty late, don’t we? Br. Paul speaks with a lot of emphasis and profound objectivity. It has been practically eight years since we met at St. Bridget centre. At the beginning he was just another cool 

common folk to me. As time went by, that changed. I realized that he and I were not reading from the same script. While I looked at a pin and simply saw and clutched at idea 'pin', he saw something bigger, probably a nail or something. It took me a while to acknowledge that given the same experiences with Paul, my understanding and interpretation was often if not always, lacking. It took me so long to spot my ujinganess (foolishness). Although it is late, now I am aware that I have to count on him to clearly tell me what I am seeing – and I am safe and happy like that. What more could you possibly ask of a brother?