#SpreadTheGospel

It is the last day of the year! Goodness!

Could we rewind the days a little and go back to 29th Dec 2025? I have a few things I wanted to share before the end of the year but lo, it is the 31st already!

It is similar to the feeling I have when packing for a trip; it always seems as though I have ample time to put my things together but before I know it, I’m literally throwing things inside my suitcase and shortly after, telling the driver to step on it so that we don’t get late to the airport!

When I was going to Italy in October for the World Food Forum, I ended up not locking my bag because I only realized upon checking it in, that I had not carried my suitcase padlock as I’d left the house in a frantic rush. I had no time to wrap my suitcase at the airport either because your girl here was (extremely) late and had only made it to the check-in counter by divine intervention. I tell you though, that my bag was fastened by the blood of Jesus and watched over by the hosts of angels, because nothing was stolen, nothing was damaged and my suitcase and its contents remained intact both to and from Italy. That was the prayer I made over my suitcase and God, in his tender mercies, had already answered me before I could even ask. Glory be to God.

Rushing through airport lobbies seems to be a sport I did not enroll for but keep getting selected to participate in. In 2023, when in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, I had to alight from the taxi mid-traffic and take two motorbikes to the airport – one for me and another for my suitcases – so that I make it in time to check-in. Geez! You would think I’d have learnt my lesson (more like several lessons) by now. Hehehe!

Last year, I was left by the plane at the Leonardo da Vinci Airport in Rome, Italy. Hehe! It seems that Italy has birthed many good tales and adventures for me. This year, the script of my time in Italy could make for a blockbuster movie. I was heading to Berlin, Germany from Rome but made a last minute decision to go to Verona (in Italy) instead. I landed there in the middle of the night, found hotels fully booked, had no itinerary whatsoever, knew no one there, yet I ended up having a wonderful time in Verona! I went to Bologna thereafter – again, not as part of the plan but somehow the wind blew me there, and a good time was had! I returned to Rome from Bologna, on the same night I was meant to fly back to Kenya!

Before you judge me harshly for not learning my lesson(s), to my defense, these movements made sense in my mind, until we got to the execution part. Why wait in the airport lounge in Rome when you could be having a buffalo milk latte in Bologna before your departure in Rome? Lol. 😛 So, after leaving Verona, I went to Bologna first instead of heading straight to the airport in ROME! Indeed that logic doesn’t make sense, now that I am writing about it in retrospect, but… I do have an interesting tale to tell now, innit? 😉 To put this absurdity into context, Rome and Bologna are 376km apart.

As per the initial plan, I was meant to arrive in Rome from Verona at 1:00pm thereabouts, head to the hotel (in Rome) to freshen up and pick my larger suitcase (I went to Verona with my carry-on suitcase only) and then head to the Leonardo da Vinci airport; but with my Bologna detour, things were to change, obviously so.

Upon my arrival in Rome, I had to take a taxi to the hotel first before proceeding to the airport. I arrived at 4:00pm, a far cry from the anticipated 1:00pm. This meant that I had no room for error and no room for any delay whatsoever. I flagged down one of the taxis right at the terminal entrance as I had no time to use a hailing app like Uber. The turnaround time of getting a cab nearby, wait for the 3-5 min arrival time and the risk of a driver cancelling last minute, were far too great to fathom. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush and in my case, a cab in front of you is worth two ubers on the app! Being pressed for time is no joke!

After the driver and I trying our best to negotiate, him in Italian and I in English, I eventually got in the car because I had no other option. The longer we took negotiating, the less time I had to get to the airport. The taxi was a metered one so it was less about negotiating the fare but more about which route would be the best to take and the fact that I wanted him to wait for me to get the luggage from a different location first before proceeding to the airport. I was also trying to communicate my sense of urgency and the fact that we had to make haste.

Thankfully, the taxi driver got the memo. He told me in the best possible English he could muster, that, “Me, Guido (pauses a bit to figure out what to say next) is ferrari driver, formula one.” Ah, perfect! “Bellisima!”, I responded gleefully. [I know that’s probably not how I should have responded but that’s the Italian that came to mind at that moment] Let’s get to the race tracks then! No sooner had we left the terminal than we were met by the rush hour traffic.

I pinned the hotel location on Google maps and I saw that the route was all red, indicating heavy traffic and that the time to get there would be much longer. Guido was trying to tell me something, but I could not understand him as the little Italian I know is basically salutations and pleasantries. I saw him turn the wheels of the car as if trying to drive on the wrong side but I didn’t think much of it. To my pleasant surprise, he was overlapping!!! Heh! I thought these things were only done in Kenya and some countries in Africa? No one is complaining though, at least not me. Do your thing Guido, do your thing!

Guido took a different route from what Google had mapped out. At first I was concerned that he was going someplace else and tried to show him the hotel name on my phone, but given how he was driving, there was no way his eyes could be elsewhere except on the road!

There is not much I could do except to trust in the Lord and in Guido’s choice of route. I was touched by how this man had taken my plight to heart! He was driving as if his wife was in labour in the backseat! He hooted, he screeched, he braked abruptly at times, he swerved and took sharp, unexpected turns, all in the name of ensuring that I got to my flight on time.

Soon after, Guido parked the car at an unexpected spot and beckoned me to get out of the car. The engine was still running! He then took my hand and together, we crossed the road at a place that was not designated for pedestrians. When we got to the other side of the road, I saw the hotel entrance. Goodness! How did we get here? Wow. Guido to the world!

At the hotel, I gave the receptionist my tag number and he brought out my suitcase. When I was reaching for the handle so that I may drag it, Guido gently pulled my hand away and carried my suitcase down the stairs and to the exit. First, he held my hand when crossing the road and now, he was carrying my suitcase. Chivalry is NOT dead.

Nairobi taxi drivers and some men in general, could do with a lesson or ten from Guido. Guido put the suitcase in the boot, opened the door for me (yes, indeed), went to his seat and off we were to the airport! All the while, my heart was in my hands because the car was left on while both of us were not in it and secondly, where Guido had parked was not a parking area and I was fervently hoping that no traffic officer would spring up on us as we were leaving. In Nairobi, the traffic officers will remain hidden then surprise you just as you are about to drive off. More importantly, thou shalt not leave thy car on and unattended, in the middle of traffic. ‘Kenya is not for beginners’, as my country people would say; but we were in Rome, literally, so we do as the Romans do!

We had now gotten to the highway and Guido was weaving his way across the lanes with confidence and needle of the speedometer kept moving to the right till it could move to the right no more. If only I had a cinematographer with me, the Fast and Furious movie would have been given a run for its money! I was exhilarated! Still, my heart was pounding because the Leonardo da Vinci airport is quite a distance from ancient Rome (where we’d come from) and the Rome metropolis.

When we got to the airport, I breathed a sigh of relief and said a silent ‘Amen’ to the prayer I was muttering under my breath throughout the journey. Guido removed my luggage from the boot, brought a trolley for me, and wished me a safe trip. This man was spectacular. He was sent by God no doubt. The way he drove and the way he took care of me was telling of man that wasn’t only interested in earning his keep but was personally invested in the success of my trip. Guido painstakingly tried to make conversation with me in the car but the language barrier couldn’t let us prosper. Much as I could not tell word for word of what he was telling me, I got the general drift; that he was looking to come to my country and that he welcomed me back to Italy. I requested to take a selfie with him for keeps’ sake, and he gladly agreed. He gave me his phone number and requested that I send him our selfie and call him upon my return.

When I reflect on the year, indeed God has kept me in the shadow of His wings. He set angels charge over me that I would not dash my foot against a stone.

If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,” and you make the Most High your dwelling,¹⁰ no harm will overtake you,  no disaster will come near your tent.
¹¹ For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; ¹² they will lift you up in their hands,  so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

Psalms 91: 9-12 NIV

Time fails me to write about my experience in Senegal, how God’s grace covered me throughout my journey and during my stay there. How His favour engulfed me so deeply, that a lady I had never met in my life, offered to cover part of the cost of a bespoke kaftan. If I start sharing about my trips to Nigeria this year, then I would end up with the a novel in its own right. Nigerians showed me a good time, for a long time.

To have flown all year round without accidents or incidents, that the airline and airport staff were polite and treated my preferably, that I’ve had no trouble at immigration, that I have never fallen ill and I that I am cushioned all around by God’s favour, mercy and divine protection, is noteworthy and praiseworthy.

For my new year’s eve article, I intended to write a more introspective piece and for Christmas, a light-hearted one, reflective of the festivities. However, God had it otherwise; my Christmas special was deep and self-examining and today’s piece is airy and fun(ny).

The year is about to end in a few hours’ time and if you would like to cross into the new year as a believer of Christ, please say the prayer below out loud:

Dear Lord,

Thank You for dying on the cross for me. I believe in my heart that you died and rose again and I confess with my mouth that You are Lord and Saviour in my heart and in my life. I denounce my former ways and choose to be Your child. Thank You for setting me free. I am now born again.

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

This title of this blog is drawn from Psalms 91 and as I was typing away, I was listening to Under the Shadow by David Dam, also based on Psalms 91.

What’s your plan for the crossover? Will you be watching fireworks or will you be in church? I got a call from Otee and he said that if I had picked his call earlier (he tried calling twice before), that we would have gone to Malindi for the crossover. I guess we will never know whether he was being sincere or not. I didn’t even know that he was at the coast, hehe! Let’s see what happens tomorrow, God willing.

Happy New Year’s Eve and Happy New Year!

XO,

That Lady