Br. Bonaventure

The first time we met at the Mater Hospital, I looked at him and thought to myself, ‘surely no wound that time does not heal’. He walks with his fist half-clenched, and his handshake is firm, probably because it is half clenched. Nonetheless, there is no sign of resentment or hurt, despite the fact that he almost lost his fingers while working with a power-saw in the noviciate. A few months later, I asked him about the permanent mark resulting from the accident which left his fingers disfigured and he said, “haki hiki kidondo kilikawia kupona, hadi nilidhani niko na ukimwi, lakini sasa kimepona hata nimekisahau.” What an interesting comment about such an adversity! Well, every joke cracked by a sick person about his sickness should be funny, right? Indeed his is an outlook greatly far removed from any complaint that often ensue bad luck.

Now he is going out to milk what he refers to as “digital cows milked by a digital brother!”  

Br. Joshua

I know he is making a great time in Mpeketoni right now because he does that wherever he goes and irrespective of who is in his company. When he came to Mpeketoni for the first time I was there. Tired as I had gotten, everything was bound to change, from awareness of the kittens in the compound to reality of life as a one big joke to outlook of religious vocation. Technically, all things changed! That very day he arrived, during supper, we sat next to each other. soon

after the prayer before meal, with a very big smile, he took a serviette and tacked it around his neck like a napkin. He then whispered “hapa watu wanaishi kama wazungu, wacha tuweke hii karatasi hapa!.” All through meal, I was uncontrollably laughing. At first I thought, ‘what a countryside idiot, he does not differentiate between a serviette and a dinner towel’ only to realize that it was one of his timely jokes! 

Br. Nicholas

Ha!ha!ha! I am not laughing because I am on my way to the bank, I am laughing because some people make every moment look like a celebration. Such is Br. Nicholas. I haven’t seen him for quite a while but I am sure when we meet, he will still crack his hilarious jokes. When I saw him for the first time I said to him, “Thank God you have joined us, now I am not the shortest fellow in this order!” He broke into laughter and in between his laughter, I picked some words which I of course don’t remember. But then he said, “I am not laughing because of what you have said,” then he continued, “ninacheka juu ya stori moja nimekumbuka. Kuna kuku mmoja alitoka kijijini, alitembea mjini. Basi likawa linapita hapo karibu na Kenchic. Yule kuku aliona kuku huko Kenchic kwenye kioo. Kumbe aliona wale kuku wa mjini hawana adabu, walikuwa uchi na wanafanya somasot kwenye kioo!” Now I know why he is always laughing and smiling, I guess he tells himself stories in the head! I would love to get into his head. How moody this religious life can be without such comical brothers in this Order.    

Br. Muema

Some call him ‘the carpenter of the bicycle’, some call him Onesmus, yet others in his village call him ‘father Muema’ and he laughs about it because he cannot keep correcting the villagers like, ‘I am not Fr. Muema, I am Br. Muema!’. Some years back, he found me in Mpeketoni. Innitially, I did not see anything special. He was ‘just another new brother’, they (we) come all the time. However, as time went by, things started to change, the easiness with which he took life was just great. I realized that with his attitude, all was fine, acceptable and good! Nothing really seemed to trouble him. When he lost his brother, the first born in his family, it was no different. He came back after the burial and I said, “it is good your brother has died, now we are eating mangoes brought from your place,” he laughed an added, “yep, I also had a chance to go to the village”. When I asked him why I did not get to see a lot of people “mourn normally”- the African mourning, he said “hata mimi sikulia, hata sikumbuki kama niliona mtu yeyote akilia!”.

Br. Leonard

I have met brothers, but honestly, very few are as much comfortable with their personality as Br. Leonard. When he finished his final exam at Tangaza, like many other deacons, I and many others expected him to disappear a short while later. However, one week later, Leonard is seated next to me on the bus heading to Tangaza. I am equally surprised because bespectacled and tummied deacons like him just cannot imagine themselves any other thing than priests! I ask him - of course I ask with utmost disinterestedness, incase it provokes him - why he is still attending lecutures.  His response is quite unexpected, “I like it this way, maisha yangu ni tofauti kabisa na ya wengine. Kwanza hivyo ndivyo ninavyoitaka.” Afew days later, in regards to his priestly ordination, he says “haraka ya nini, haya mambo ni polepole” and I add to that, “eh, ni mosmos tu!” as I walk away smilingly knowing that that is a lesson learnt. 'haraka haraka haina baraka' so we say.