namwano

Mornings of late have a constant lingering of greyness. Silence speaks and the air murmurs. It has been chilly and most days echo back such an empty and lifeless grey with no semblance of character. I am writing this on a Sunday. A day that would normally have many of us congregate together in what we believed to be worship. For some I think it was merely to pay a duty, or a visit to a social center, but that remains a business that is not mine to engage in. Nevertheless with church buildings being shut down, they appear to be prosaic. Those I have passed by, used to have their own divine poetry that sanitized our spirits. Superiority is argued over who is louder than the other. But again, this is my analysis from the blasting of surrounding congregations. Life at the moment feels a bit farfetched from my balcony. I, of late, find myself standing and reflecting on the unusual events taking place for the past few months. It’s a comfortable, restful space unlike the many known