A soldier in the army of the Lord

The peculiar death of Gen. Aronda Nyakairima got me thinking about a boyhood dream I pursued heartily but failed to attain. I wanted to become a soldier. There was something about the army uniform, the caps, pips and hard boots that fascinated me beyond measure and kept me awake at night dreaming of the day I would become a soldier.

One day I escaped from school with my best friend to enlist in the army. The recruitment officer looked me over and said I was too young and physically weak for the  arduous tasks I was trying to sign up for. I watched the heavy army-green truck heave away with the lucky recruits including my best friend and wept inconsolably. 

With my friend officer Kabagambe

A few years later, my friend returned on a two-week vacation. I'll never forget the envy that gripped me with an intensity that almost gave me an acute heart attack when I saw him in his full uniform, with a pistol peeping from his belt. He had grown so tall with an intimidating presence. He punctuated his sentences with swahili while his cigarette-breath hit me full blast in the face. He was no longer the childhood buddy I used to steal mangoes with in the village. He was now a soldier I  realised I was afraid of.

After another few years, my friend was brought home in a coffin. We were all devastated. I'll never forget how his mother threw herself at the coffin saying her son was too young to die. If I had any dreams of becoming a soldier still lurking somewhere in the confines of my heart, that day they were lowered along with my friend's corpse into the grave and buried with him. 

Today, as a born-again Christian I'm a soldier of Christ serving in the army of the Lord, fighting on my knees, with bullets of prayer. But I have never ceased admiring the soldier's uniform and spirit. They endure a lot for the greater good of others but often die like dogs.

I salute Gen. Aronda and pray he's in Heaven.