IS IT A MUST TO BE ACTIVE IN CHURCH TO BE HELPED?

 

By John Msafiri – Storyteller, Observer of Faith, Member of the "Quietly Rejected" Community
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1. Church is a Hospital, Not a Holy Club

A few months ago, I attended a funeral in the village. The mood was heavy with grief, but one moment cut through the air sharper than the mourning itself. A friend of the deceased stood up and said:

"This man was sidelined by the church because he didn’t attend community groups. Yet here we are, giving him flowers after his death. Why didn’t we give him food while he lived?"

Awkward laughter. Heads shook. Some nodded in shame. But the message was loud and clear: Why do we remember people at their graves but forget them when they're still knocking at our doors?

The church must be a healing place — not a gatekeeping institution.

Hebrews 10:25: “Let us not give up meeting together... but encourage one another."

True. Gathering together builds faith. But should someone die of hunger because they never made it to last Sunday’s service?

2. The Help of the Church is Like Wedding Food — It Shouldn’t Be Served Only to Contributors

At African weddings, no one asks, “Did you contribute?” They ask: “Do you have a plate?”

That’s how Church assistance should work. If someone is in need, their pain is the ticket — not their attendance.

Remember the parable of the Good Samaritan?

The beaten man wasn’t asked which synagogue he belonged to. He was helped. Not by the priest, not the Levite — but by the so-called outsider.

Matthew 25:35: "I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat."

Jesus didn’t say, “I was a registered CWA member.” He said, I was in need.

3. Don’t Judge the Ones Who Sit at the Back

Let’s be honest: Some people stay away from church not because they’re lazy but because they’ve been bruised.

• Some were humiliated for being late.

• Others were gossiped about for not giving enough.

• Some were side-lined for dressing differently or not being married in church.

And so, they became wanderers — faithful but wounded. Just because someone is not in your WhatsApp group doesn’t mean God hasn’t written their name in His book.

Peter denied Jesus three times. Yet Jesus still trusted him to lead. That’s grace.

If Peter got a second chance, so should everyone else.

4. The Church Must Be Like a Mother — Welcoming All Her Children

If we turn the Church into a club for the 'saved elite,' we’ve lost the plot.

Jesus didn’t pick the rich, the perfect, or the punctual. He chose fishermen, tax collectors, and sinners.

If Jesus were the Secretary of your church group, He wouldn’t shortlist based on attendance. He’d shortlist based on hunger for God.

So the Church must become a safe harbour, not a toll station. We are called to heal, not to screen.

5. What Can Be Done?

Yes — people should join Church groups:

• That’s where they learn.

• That’s where they are known.

• That’s where care is better organized.

But also, yes — help should not be denied to the quiet ones.

• Assistance should be based on need, not membership.

• Compassion should be louder than protocols.

• Grace should reach even the backbenchers.

If someone falls through the cracks, don’t say, “We didn’t know them.” Ask yourself, “Why didn’t we go looking?”

If the Church won’t help those who don’t show up, who will?

Jesus helped the Samaritan woman at the well — a stranger. We should do no less.

A stop is enough but... 

“A tree doesn’t choose who sits under its shade — it just grows and offers shelter.”

That’s how the Church should be.

Don’t exclude. Don’t shame. Embrace.

Because one day, you or I may be on the other side of that door. And may we find the Church open, warm, and welcoming.

Have you ever felt left out by your Church because you weren’t active enough? Or have you seen someone else pushed away?

Let’s talk. Because Church belongs to all of us.

™©•® Johπ PoetKeyα Msαfiri 2025

JOHN MSAFIRI

Spoken Word Poet | Media Relations Concierge | Strategic PR & Communications Specialist | Seasoned Writer | Thespian | Playwright | Copyrighter |  

JE, NI LAZIMA KUWA MJUMBE WA KANISA ILI USAIDIWE?

 

Na John Msafiri – Mwanafunzi wa Maisha, Mchambuzi wa Imani na Mwanachama wa Jumuiya ya “Waliotengwa kwa Ukimya”

Kuna siku nilienda kushiriki mazishi ya rafiki yangu kule kijijini. Msiba ulikuwa mzito, huzuni iliweza kung’oa nywele, lakini kilichonigonga zaidi ni pale rafiki yangu mmoja – tuseme jina lake ni Oti – aliposimama kutoa rambirambi akasema:

“Huyu ndugu alitengwa na jumuiya kwa sababu hakushiriki. Lakini leo tuko hapa kumzika. Je, ni lazima afe ndiyo atambulike kuwa ni wetu?”

Watu wakacheka kwa aibu. Wengine wakatikisa vichwa. Lakini ukweli ulikuwa pale pale: kwanini tunawapa watu kinywaji cha baraka baada ya safari yao, badala ya wakati bado walikuwa na kiu?

1. Kanisa ni Hospitali ya Wenye Kiu, Siyo Klabu ya Wenye Machozi ya Mbele

Katika dunia ya leo ya hashtag gospel na WhatsApp fellowships, tunaweza kuamini kuwa imani ni jambo la mtu binafsi. Lakini kama Biblia inavyotuambia:

“Tusiache kukusanyika pamoja, kama ilivyo desturi ya wengine.” – Waebrania 10:25

Kweli ni kwamba, ushiriki katika jumuiya au mashirika ya Kanisa hujenga muungano wa kiroho, unaofanana na sockets zinazoshikilia mwanga wa taa. Bila hiyo socket, hata taa ya dhahabu haitaangaza.

Lakini swali letu la leo ni: Je, kama mtu hana hiyo socket ya jumuiya, hapaswi kupewa stima ya msaada?

2. Msaada wa Kanisa ni Kama Mchele wa Arusi – Hauchagui Nani Amekaribishwa

Katika arusi nyingi za Kiafrika, ukifika wakati wa chakula, hakuna mtu anaulizwa “umetoa mchango kweli?”
Wanaulizwa: “Uko na sahani?” 😄

Ndivyo msaada wa Kanisa unavyopaswa kuwa. Mtu akiwa na haja – ya mwili au ya roho – sahani yake ya kiu na uchungu inapaswa kuwa tiketi yake ya kusaidiwa.

Kumbuka hadithi ya Yesu kuhusu Msamaria Mwema?
Yule mtu aliyepigwa na majambazi hakuulizwa, “Ulikuwa unashiriki synagogi?” Alisaidiwa – na si   kuhani, bali ni mtu wa mbali.

Yesu hakusema, “Wasaidie walioko kwenye list ya CWA.”
Alisema, “Nilikuwa na njaa, mkanipa chakula.” – Mathayo 25:35

3. Kushiriki ni Muhimu, Lakini Usihukumu Waliobaki Nje ya Kuta

Tuseme ukweli. Kuna ndugu zetu wamekaa kimya si maadamu ni wavivu, bali wamekosewa kanisani. Wengine walichelewa mara tatu mfululizo wakaitwa “baridi,” wengine walionekana hawatoi mchango wakakosa kuchaguliwa hata kusalimiana.

Kuna wale walikataliwa eti hawana suti ya Kwaya, au waseja “kwa Kanisa.”
Lakini usimfananishe mtu anayeogopa kurudi kanisani na yule anayeikimbia imani. Hali si tabia.
Kama Petro alimkana Yesu mara tatu na bado akapewa nafasi ya kulisha kondoo, basi hata hawa “wanaokaa nyuma ya Kanisa” wanapaswa kupata msaada wa kiroho na mwili.

4. Kanisa La Leo, Linapaswa Kuwa Kama Mama – Halichagui Mtoto wa Kukumbatia

Kanisa likianza kugeuka kuwa sehemu ya burudani yaani Klabu ya walio sahihi, tutapoteza maana ya Injili.

Yesu aliwasaidia wazinzi, watoza ushuru, wagonjwa na waliokataliwa – bila kuuliza “ulitoa sadaka wiki iliyopita?”

Kama Yesu angekuwa Katibu wa Jumuiya Ndogo Ndogo, hangekusanya watu waliopendelewa. Angeanza na waliojeruhiwa.
Kwa hiyo Kanisa letu, liwe bandari ya huruma, si booth ya kupima ushiriki wa Jumapili.

5. SULUHISHO: Tuwapokee Walio Nje, Tuwaimarishe Walioko Ndani

Ni kweli — watu wanapaswa kushiriki jumuiya, kwa sababu:

• Hapo ndipo wanajifunza Neno.

• Hapo ndipo wanajulika shida zao.

• Hapo ndipo huduma hupangwa.

Lakini pia ni kweli:

• Msaada wa Kanisa usiwe na masharti ya kiwanachama.

• Upendo usiwe wa wale wanaovaa sare pekee.

• Neema isigawiwe kwa walio “seen” kwenye attendance book.

Kama mtu aliyeanguka hajulikani kwa sababu hakushiriki, ni wajibu wetu kumtafuta.
Kama Kanisa takatifu haliwezi kusaidia mtu kwa sababu “hatutamjua,” basi tusisahau kuwa hata Yesu alimsaidia yule mama Msamaria wa kisimani ambaye hakuwa wa jumuiya yoyote.

“Mti haujui nani atakula kivuli chake — lakini bado huota.”

Hivyo ndivyo Kanisa linapaswa kuwa.

Tusibague. Tusihukumu. Tukumbatie.
Kwa sababu siku moja – wewe au mimi – tunaweza kuwa upande wa pili wa msaada.
Na tutajua, Kanisa halikuwa genge la wachache, bali mwili wa Kristo wenye mikono iliyofunguka kwa wote.

Wewe je?
Je, umewahi kuona mtu akikataliwa kwa sababu ya kutoshiriki?
Ama wewe mwenyewe ulishawahi kujisikia kama “mgeni kwenye nyumba ya Baba”?
Tuandikie, tushirikiane.

Kanisa ni letu sote. 

™©•® Johπ PoetKeyα Msαfiri 2025

JOHN MSAFIRI

Spoken Word Poet | Media Relations Concierge | Strategic PR & Communications Specialist | Seasoned Writer | Thespian | Playwright | Copyrighter | Domestic Scandal Evangelist

 

When Did Good English Become Suspicious?

Not everything is ChatGPT or AI, some of us just grew up in homes where your dad edited your WhatsApp messages for punctuation. 😩

I saw a tweet recently where recruiters were listing how they “identify ChatGPT” in job applications and honestly? I was stressed.

Half the “AI signs” they mentioned were just… basic grammar because what do you mean “nonetheless” “in-depth” “meticulously” are AI signs….they’re basic grammar 🥲

These days, if your sentence flows too well or you use a hyphen where a comma won’t do - suddenly it’s: “Ah, that’s AI.” 🙃

Meanwhile, this is the same English some of us have been speaking (and overthinking) since Primary 1. We even used to do dictation 😂
I was writing “pseudo,” “consequently,” and “notwithstanding” for fun back then.

Some of us didn’t need ChatGPT to write full sentences, we had Kenyan parents, lesson teachers and Mock essay drills.
We lived in homes where “speak well” wasn’t advice, it was law and by force 😂

📚 English textbooks were our personality.
📝 Essays had intros, bodies, conclusions with topic sentences and thesis statements!
🗣️ My parents used words like “nonchalant,” “consequently,” and “erroneous” in everyday conversations. I had no choice but to level up.

So now we have to water down our writing just to prove we’re human? Don’t even get me started on the issue of learning to switch to British English from American which we were taught in. Now everyone in thinks I’m an illiterate when I say “organize” instead of “organise” (story for another day)🤧

Good writing ≠ AI.
Proper grammar ≠ suspicious.
Let people be articulate in peace. 

JOHN MSAFIRI     

Media Relations | Seasoned Writer | Content Creator | Strategic PR & Communications Specialist

Episode 2: Shemeji Wa Shetani – The Househelp, The In-Law, and The Man of God | BY JOHN MSAFIRI 

(Previously...)

In a world where mtu ni mtu and "thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's sister-in-law" is just a suggestion, the lines between holy matrimony and hole-y mischief are as blurred as WhatsApp statuses at midnight.

We met Baba Tugo, a church elder and self-declared man of integrity, who’s been moonlighting as a househelp evangelist and shemeji whisperer. A conversation on a matatu from Eastlands suburbs revealed the shocking tale—two grown men laughing off their escapades with house girls and sister-in-laws, as casually as discussing football.

One man even defended his actions biblically, quoting King Solomon: "Did he not have 700 wives and 300 concubines? Na bado alikuwa mwanaume wa mungu!"

We were left asking: is marriage still sacred ama ni kama Nairobi matatu – unashukia popote ukihisi danger?

 Episode 2: Housegirl wa Roho Mtakatifu vs Wifey wa Corporate 

Enter scene:

Karen Estate, Saturday morning. The aroma of sausages za Farmer's Choice dancing in the air, and the Bluetooth speaker screaming "Yesu ni Bwanaaaa!" while playing inappropriately loud Kikuyu Gigoco gospel remixes.

Meet the cast:

 Becky wa Kiserian  – the born-again housegirl who starts every chore with, “Let’s invite the Holy Spirit.” She's been fasting for 21 days, has anointing oil in her apron, and refers to the bedroom as “the altar of rest.”

Truphie Wanjiru – the wife. Corporate queen. Works at an international NGO. Speaks fluent PowerPoint, wears blazers with shoulder pads, and only comes home to sleep, Zoom, or ask why the fridge smells like fish.

Baba Tugo – the husband. Looks saved on Sunday, lives like Solomon on Tuesday. Drives a Subaru with a "God First" bumper sticker and a secret Telegram account.

On this day, the battle lines are drawn.

Becky, humming "Nitaingia lango zake na shukrani..." prepares a special breakfast. Wifey, from her upstairs Zoom call, sniffs the air. “Is that cinnamon I smell? Hmm. That girl is trying too hard.”

Later that evening...

Becky is summoned by Baba Tugo to "pray for him before he sleeps."

“Niwekee worship ya Don Moen,” he whispers.

Truphie walks in.

"What's going on here?"

"Prayer," says Baba Tugo. "Tulikuwa kwa maombi ya kulala."

Becky, not missing a beat, raises her hands. "Holy Spirit, take over..."

Truphie ain’t buying it. But she’s too tired from budgeting meetings to start kubembeleza roho ya uzinzi. She retires upstairs, but makes a mental note to install nanny-cam disguised as a teddy bear.

Meanwhile...

Becky updates her prayer journal: “Day 12: Baba Tugo still resisting temptation. Glory to God. But I feel the spirit is willing...and the flesh is also willing.”

To be continued...

Will Truphie discover the altar is also a battlefield? Is Becky really Housegirl wa Roho Mtakatifu or Nabii wa bedroom deliverance? Will Baba Tugi finally meet his match?

Next episode: "Shemeji Ametoka Ushago – And She’s Bringing Fire"

JOHN MSAFIRI     

Media Relations | Seasoned Writer | Content Creator | Strategic PR & Communications Specialist

 

"SHEMEJI WA SHETANIi: The Househelp, The In-Law, and The Man of God" | BY JOHN MSAFIRI

Once upon a mtaa in Nairobi West, lived a man of prayer, praise... and, apparently, poor decisions. Let's call him Brother Mapangale. During the day, he was the deacon who quoted Bible verses fluently—"Train up a child in the way he should go…"—but at night, the only training happening was behind his wife's back. Acha tu.

Now let’s talk about the modern Kenyan home, where the househelp has become more than just the cook and cleaner. These days, she's also serving a full-course nyama ya roho to the baba wa nyumba, and sometimes even getting more protection than the legally wedded wife. I mean, why is mama watoto being scolded for shouting, but the housemanager gets defended like she's on witness protection?

One day, in a matatu from Eastlands to CBD, I overheard two grown men whispering in deep Dholuo, thinking no one could understand. Wacha wajue Kiswahili si lugha pekee. One guy said, "Bro, kama hujawai kula kwa housegirl, utalia mbele ya nyumba."

The other, shocked: "But I thought you’re born again?"

He replied, "Na Solomon hakuwa? Alikuwa na wake wangapi? Kama God alibariki wake zake mia moja na suria mia tatu, si basi tuko ndani ya scripture?"

Pause. Let that sink in.

And don’t even get me started on shemeji wa mtaa. Sister-in-laws, some of whom are now a permanent fixture on the husband’s GPS. Wifey thinks she's getting a surprise visit from her sister, but kumbe Mr. Man left the house with an overnight bag and the words, "Work trip, babe, emergency."

Fast forward to a hotel in Rongai, and there they are: sister-in-law and brother-in-law, popping champagne, laughing like secondary school deskmates, calling each other my person. Then when they meet later in the main house:

"Aaaw, shemeji! Long time! You taking good care of my sister, I see!"

Shemeji responds: "Always! You know your sister is my queen!"

(Meanwhile, only God knows what crown she’s wearing.)

The question is: Why do men marry?

Is marriage now just another public relations stunt? People post wedding photos on Facebook, but the ring disappears faster than Ugali in a Luo wedding.

And women? Some have also tossed their wedding rings into the same drawer with unused gym memberships and old Safaricom lines.

It begs the question, "Is the institution of marriage still sacred or is it now just a society-sanctioned situationship?"

Let’s refer to Proverbs 5:18-19: "Let your fountain be blessed, and rejoice in the wife of your youth... may her breasts satisfy you always." Not the housegirl’s. Not shemeji’s. The WIFE.

But hey, maybe the new verse is: "Thou shall pretend like everything is okay in the living room while hell breaks loose in the bedrooms and hotels of this Nairobi."

Even in Kikuyu culture we say, “Wira wa mucii utangagwo ni mucii” (The affairs of the home are known by those inside). But nowadays, everyone is inside—and I mean everyone.

As we wrap this sermon, let us ask ourselves: are we raising a generation that values vows, or just vibes? Is for better or worse now just for now and when convenient?

Ladies and gentlemen, if you ever see your shemeji smiling too hard when you're introduced, just remember: not every smile is innocent. And if your housegirl suddenly starts wearing lipstick in the kitchen, call HR. Because the enemy is no longer outside—he’s in the compound.

To be continued…

JOHN MSAFIRI

Media Relations | Content Creator | Strategic PR & Communications Specialist

 Kenya Is Bleeding in Silence: A Wake-Up Call on Political Assassinations, Security, and Hypocrisy

 | BY JOHN MSAFIRI

Yesterday, another son of the soil, Hon. Kasipul MP Charles Ong’ondo Were, was gunned down in cold blood along Ngong Road by a motorbike pillion assassin. Just like that. Another leader silenced. Another headline. Another hashtag. Another round of tired political clichés.

"We shall investigate." "We will bring the culprits to book." "No stone will be left unturned."

Yaani, it's the same tired script — recycled, washed, and hanged to dry in the corridors of impunity. Since independence, our soil has drunk enough blood to fill rivers. And every time, we throw flowers on the graves while watering the roots of injustice.


They came for Pinto, and we lit a candle.
They came for Mboya, and we sang the anthem.
They came for JM, and we marched.
They came for Ouko, and we wept.
They came for Mugabe Were, and we tweeted.
They came for George Muchai and we stalled the cameras
They came for Charles Were and were intentional and sarcastic close to a morgue: City Morgue.
How long will Kenya bury its conscience with its sons?

Let this be the last eulogy we write in blood.

This is not a coincidence. This is systemic rot. A pattern. Political assassination in Kenya is not just a tragedy; it’s a language of power. It is the whispered threat behind podiums, the smirk behind political insults, the unsaid warning behind every "watch your back."

Security Instruments: Are You Asleep or Compromised?
Where was the intelligence? Where was the surveillance? How can a sitting MP be shot on a public road — in Nairobi of all places — and the assassins vanish into the thin air of state silence?

Our security instruments, from NIS to DCI, from police patrol to cyber units — must stop being paper tigers. This is not just about protecting VIPs. This is about protecting the idea of Kenya.

We can't keep building walls around politicians while wananchi in places like Angata, Narok are butchered by police bullets, left to rot without a whisper of justice. When a local child is shot in a protest, the headlines read “clashes.” When a politician is shot, it’s “a national crisis.”

Double standards are killing us. Politicians: Watch Your Mouths Before You Ignite the Nation. Some of you think politics is theatre. You go on rallies spewing tribal bile, threat-laced innuendo, and coded war cries. You call others “dogs,” “traitors,” “madoadoa,” “cockroaches.” You incite in tongues but pretend to be angels in English.

Well, words become flesh — and sometimes that flesh lies in a casket. When you normalize violence in your speech, don’t act shocked when it walks into your backyard with a gun. Stop weaponizing your base. Stop flirting with chaos.

Gangs, Goons & the Road to Sierra Leone Rember? Let’s not pretend. Some politicians hire goons to intimidate rivals, silence critics, and rig the streets before the ballots arrive. You call them “supporters.” But when they loot, burn, stab, and rape — we call them what they really are: terrorists in civilian clothing.

If we’re not careful, we’re heading the way of Sierra Leone during the junta years. Rebels there used to cut off civilians' hands or lips — “short sleeve or long sleeve?” — to punish dissent. That’s what happens when violence becomes a political strategy. You breed monsters who no longer recognize the leash.

Kenya, we are at the edge. Condolences Politics: A Nation of Mourning Selectively. The amount of airtime, prayers, and flower arrangements given to politicians when they die is baffling. Whole stadiums are filled. State funerals. Gun salutes. Presidents weep on live TV.

But when a boda guy is gunned down by rogue cops in Mwiki, or a schoolgirl is raped and murdered in Lodwar, or a whole family is massacred by bandits in Baringo — it’s silence. Or worse: blame.

Why must status determine sympathy?
Wake Up, Kenya
We need a reset. A hard reboot of our political culture, our national security priorities, and our moral compass.

We need independent investigations into all assassinations — not just PR pressers.

We need equal mourning, whether it’s a street hawker or a senator.

We need leaders who speak life, not tongues of fire that burn their own people.

And we need a citizenry that refuses to be used as shields, pawns, or propaganda.

This is not just about Hon. Were. It’s about all of us. It’s about whether your life matters. Whether justice is reserved for the rich. Whether your child is safe walking home after school.

Don’t wait for your turn on the obituary page to ask, “What is the state doing?”

Kenya is bleeding. But are we awake, or just sleepwalking into the slaughterhouse?

From the whispers of Pinto to the echo of Mboya’s bullet, from JM Kariuki’s tortured silence to Mugabe Were’s fatal doorstep, and now Hon. Were — ambushed on a tarmac of betrayal in 2025 — the blood trail of Kenya’s politics reads like a cursed psalm.

Each man fell not by fate, but by fear.
Each death, a stanza in the poem of power.
Each gunshot, a punctuation mark in our national shame.

Where is the justice for men who dared to dream?
Where is the peace for families still haunted by hollow investigations and forgotten files?

Kenya bleeds in silence — but the ghosts do not forget.
And justice, however delayed, always returns in whispered winds and cracked crowns.

JOHN MSAFIRI
Media Relations Concierge | Strategic PR & Communications Specialist | Seasoned Writer | Thespian | Playwright | Copyrighter | Domestic Scandal Evangelist

#JusticeForWere
#NoMoreAssassinations
#WakeUpKenya