In the sleepy little town of Meru, folks still chat softly about Mutuma’s unbelievable turnaround. Remember him? The guy who’d crash out on bar stools and pick scraps after a few too many? Now, picture this: he’s strolling those dusty roads in crisp clothes, a tiny Bible tucked under his arm, sharing words of kindness like it’s the easiest thing in the world. It’s the kind of tale that even the biggest doubters can’t brush off. Rewind just 12 months, and Mutuma was adrift in a sea of booze. Mornings blurred into nights at the local pub, where buddies dubbed him “Reverend Lager” for his slurred Bible bits.
“Hey, didn’t Jesus whip up some wine from water?” he’d slur with a grin, pint in hand. Life at home? A wreck. His wife packed up and split, his kids dodged his calls like the plague, and his poor mom? She’d sob through her prayers, begging heaven for a miracle in her boy’s wild heart. Then came that crisp, chilly night that flipped everything.
Out with pals for the usual rounds, Mutuma waved off a ride and headed home the old shortcut through the woods, a trek he’d nailed a hundred times. But this go-round? Total wipeout. Phone? Stone dead. Moon? Hiding like a scared kid. He pushed on, branches snagging his shirt, heart thumping louder than his footsteps. Every twist led deeper into the black, and panic started whispering, “You’re in over your head, friend. What happened next? Well, that’s when the real magic stirred… more https://drbokko.com/?p=34203