But God works in mysterious ways.

That the person who exchanged me with goats, several crates of Fanta soda and lesos on one bright afternoon, was home today, earlier than our neighbours - see you in the evening- chicken is truly the lords doing.

I do not write to Praise Covid- 19.

That virus is nobody's grandmother and we need to listen to our Governments, atleast this once.

Kwanza, we need to send our parents money and foodstuffs back at the village so that they can buy food and supplements to boost their immunity.

What we dont need to do is to visit them or send them our children because we might be exposing them to more danger.

Look, we already gave our parents blood pressure in our teenage years when they discovered we smoked weed, wore thongs and exchanged bodily fluids inside cattle-dips, let's not kill them any further.

Anyway, where was I?

Ehe, due to the curfew, son of man, he who pointed me with several goat ribs at kamakis, He who ensured that he had shifted my pelvic bones before payment of dowry, he who consoled me by injecting another pregnancy after not winning Ms. President, came home at 4 pm today with all the symptoms of denial and betrayal by Government.

Son of man been flipping and discovering new channels on Startimes and Netflix.

But because the TV is owned by a three-year-old, He has so far watched all 65 episodes of Sofia the First, Spongebob square pants and Alladin with a grin on his face because each episode has to be followed by dancing practicals😂

Son of man has not been immune to my telenovela doses.

We have flipped between Maria and Khum Khum Bhagya without any complaints.

We have boiled cereals, He has clipped my nails, served food, peeped at the gate to see if Government was joking, massaged my scalp, poked my huge belly, called his boss to ask if Government has changed its mind, now we are waiting to watch that ratched 10/10 show where I plan on shaking what shakes, swinging hips this way and that way and bending over to pick whatever girls pick when they bend over, bend over, bend over...

And because no goat wife or any woman with a male species nearby has any pelvic bone remaining, the only thing left to break will be the bed and my back which is okay because camel soup fixes everything.

Tomorrow, we paint nails and talk about all the women who have ever called him since 2015, and a guarana receipt I found in his pocket on 18th January 2017.

ha-ha, God of women is overworking and shaming the devil.

Praaaaaaaaaaaise the laaaaaaaaaawd!

The disease is mainly spread by the elite but will hit the poor so hard!
In a bid to protect the poor,they are taking from them their source of livelihood!
If this persists, there might be social disorder because the most vulnerable will have no food and could be evicted from rented premises.

@Tycho, this Sunday, our plot is the venue of one of those Church-Based Chama cum Prayer meetings.

We are talking about 20-30 women crammed into that narrow corridor between the apartments.

In such a situation, social distancing ceases to exist.

We, the committee of the Nyumba Kumi committee, had asked the Chama committee to suspend these meetings.

The Chama committee declined.

A Chama member even had the effrontery to quote President Uhuru, who said: "Even Science requires God".

Do we call for Police assistance to prevent such a meeting?

That was the gist of my quoting The Economist and seeking your opinion on religion and The Virus.