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He meant the loss of his pride, the time he could spend counting his cows, and the wealth he might have to give away.
Pastor John smiled and placed a hand on Waswa’s shoulder. "That is the good news, my brother. Tewali mbeera nene. There is no big price—because the price has already been paid. Not by you. Not by your cows. Not by your land. By the blood of the Lamb."
"Waswa," the pastor said softly, "you have been asking the wrong question. You keep asking, 'Mbeera ya ki?' — 'What is the price?' But God is not a market stall. You cannot bargain with the Creator." Tewali Mbeera Nene by Pr John Muyizzi
Pastor John stood up, his face calm but his eyes sharp as a prophet’s. He looked at Waswa’s trembling hands, then at the empty sky outside.
Every Sunday, he walked past the small iron-roofed church where Pastor John Muyizzi preached. He heard the singing. He saw the joy. But he would sneer and say to his son, "These poor people have nothing. They sing because they have nothing to lose. But for a man like me? To follow God? Ekyo kya Mbeera Nene. That is a big price." He meant the loss of his pride, the
"Pastor," Waswa said, his voice dry as the soil. "I want to buy my way into God's favor. I have a few cows left. I have land. Tell me the price. Ndiwa oluwa. I will pay."
And as the rains finally came, washing the dust from the hills, Pastor John Muyizzi stood at the pulpit and declared to the congregation: Tewali mbeera nene
Waswa decided to visit Pastor John Muyizzi. He found the pastor in a small wooden chapel, praying on his knees.
One harvest season, a terrible drought came. The sun scorched the grass brown. Waswa’s prized cattle began to fall, one by one. His gold lost its shine when there was no water to buy. His barns grew empty. In his despair, he remembered the words of a traveling preacher years ago: "When the wealth is gone, the heart is tested."