@fr_petros Happy 11th Priestly anniversary Far Mwale. We thank God for your presence in our lives. We pray that God continue to guide you as you say yes to Him every day.
@ednyoka We thank God for you Father Edmond in our lives. May God continue to bless you abundantly as you continue to say yes to His call every day. Happy 15th Priestly Anniversary
We are again celebrating the Solemnity of The Body of Christ. As we learn of Christ's love and compassion, we also learn that we are privileged to have Him in the Eucharistic.
I will today remember all of you and your intentions.
As Corpus Christi approaches, this image serves as a powerful reminder that Jesus' love for us remains steadfast even in our most dire circumstances. He cherishes the broken and restores them to wholeness. Let us never lose hope, for no matter the challenges we face, Jesus's love for us endures.
We celebrated the Holy Mass with Fr. Robert Carlton, parish priest of Queen of Peace Parish in Chicago. The roofing of this sacred church was generously support by the faithful in America through https://t.co/KgRjzpRpFm. Look at the beauty of the universality of the Catholic Church. Fr. Robert is a board member of https://t.co/KgRjzpRpFm.
@mcbrams@mailandguardian Well written. Someone has to tell these uncomfortable stories and real root causes. No one really wants to go to South Africa but young people are left without or with limited choices.
Malawi has turned to the African Development Bank (AfDB) for additional crisis-response financing as the country faces worsening forex shortages, rising import costs and debt distress.
Day #20 of begging for a basic service at the Office of the Registrar General in Lilongwe. 20 days of my patience stretched and tested. No help. ‘Not yet, come tomorrow’
Yesterday, I called someone to enquire where I could find diesel, which is now very scarce in Blantyre. I had seen the long queues. After some minutes, he told me to go to a filling station in Limbe asap. In such situations, I usually send my driver because I hate the whole hustle and tussle, the endless queuing for hours. But he said, “Hurry up, you will not take long. Just make sure you are here within the next 15 minutes.”
And indeed, in under 15 minutes, I was there. I was desperate because my fuel light was on and I barely had 21km remaining. When I arrived, I called him and he said, “Just come to the front. Don’t join the queue.”
Now, I find that quite uncomfortable. Not necessarily because it is dishonest, but because I never want to find myself in a situation where people surround my car and start shouting at me to go back to the line. I would never want to be involved in a public exchange of words, let alone a fight with anyone. But let me be honest here, the real reason is that if I was on a line and someone jumped it, I would cause so much chaos and they would not fuel. So what if there was someone like me on that line? And the good Lord says in the Bible, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
So I stopped at the very back of the line. It was quite long. I told him I was not ready to jump the queue. He came and said, “Boss, apapa mukakhala kunoko simuthila. Pabwera 3,500 litres yokha. Let me drive.” I moved to the back seat. He drove my car all the way to the front.
But what struck me, and what makes me write this piece, is how confidently he responded to those asking, “What’s going on?”
“Aise, ya bwana wathu iyi. Usayankhulenso.”
And the others would simply respond, “Ndakumva,” and keep quiet. Inside the filling station, from the guard to the fuel attendant, they all kept saying, “Ya bwana wathu iyi.”
In less than ten minutes, I had my full tank which cost MK456,250. Such an exorbitant figure. A year ago, a full tank would cost around MK250,000. That was before the Prof was brought back to the echelons of power after five years of civilian life. To be honest with you, I initially wanted to fuel worth MK200,000, but when I thought about the hustle of looking for fuel again, I squeezed myself and filled the tank.
At the end, I was asked to add an extra MK20,000 for the guys, which I happily paid. And that is when it hit me that all that “bwana wathu awa” came at the cost of 20K. Again, let me be honest, it is not like I did not know money would have to exchange hands at the end. I only thought it would be more than 20K.
As I drove home, I wondered if corruption will ever end. Corruption thrives on broken systems. You go to Road Traffic and the system is down. You wait for hours, sometimes days. Then someone quietly tells you, “Bwana, if you want, it can happen today, but you will need to pay something.” And just like that, you pay because you are tired of waiting. The brokenness of the system is by design. It is so normalised and institutionalised that people no longer even see it as corruption.
And if the big man is corrupt, the small boys at a filling station will be too. By “big man,” I mean the Prof. Didn’t he allegedly use his TPIN to buy cement fraudulently amongst other allegations of corruption? But we still voted him back into power because we have become numb to corruption. Anyway, story for another day. Enjoy your day!
Dear friends, I am delighted to share that the parish office project has now been fully funded through https://t.co/KgRjzpRpFm. My heartfelt thanks go to all who supported this initiative financially, as well as to the many who offered prayers for its success. May God, in His great mercy and love, bless you abundantly. I will continue to post updates on the progress of this project.
When Fr. Martin went to celebrate Mass in this village, one woman, Mrs. Longwe, was carried to Mass. She has been unwell. She asked to be taken to Mass. She walks, with great difficulties. Here seen lying down during Mass. She needs a wheelchair.
May The Lord hear her prayers 🙏