I’m Brian Namanya, and my family has a long history of being recognised for one thing: funerals. We were compelled to bury individuals we loved year after year, not because we were undertakers. Death seems to have reserved a room at our farmhouse. My uncle was young, healthy, and smiling one day when he passed away in his sleep the next. Next came my cousin, who was just 31 years old when he suffered a severe stroke. When my younger sister, who had just graduated from college, passed out at work and never woke up, we were still dealing with that loss.
Individuals muttered. “Perhaps it’s unlucky.” “Perhaps the family took action.” However, how could this kind of curse be placed on a whole family? We tried everything—traditional elders, physicians, and pastors—but nobody really had any answers. We continued to dig graves in the interim. My brother, father, and aunt have all passed away. All in six years. To read more click here.
