I like the respect with which the writer handled his characters beliefs. This is how to write about religion whether you practice it or not. Read it for the great characters and nuanced story telling, share it cos it is that sweet and sad
The knock came once, tap . . . twice, tap . . . tap. Reluctantly, the man hurled himself from the bed. He had been working on some documents. His friend in Nairobi who worked with the AU Refugee Commission wanted him to look at them in return for some money for he was a man without a job who spent his days, for the last one year and counting, sleeping, reading newspapers and following the news on Al-Jazeera and TVC. He’d wondered who could be knocking so gently – had the knocks been loud, he would have thought it was his landlord or the landlord’s solicitor – he’d panicked until he opened the door . . . and yawned. Two ladies stood facing him. He yawned again, covering his open mouth with the back of his left palm.
‘Kedu?’ they greeted.
‘Who are you?’
‘We are Jehovah’s…
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