My Sins

Church Thoughts · 004 — My Sins By Makena Brandon · 5th May, 2026 · Sweetwaters Altar, Nanyuki After thinking deeply about Poverty and God , I think I slept for some time there in church. I was tired already. The coffee was there, the low music was still playing softly, my blanket was around me, and my Bible was still open beside me. When I woke up, I remembered the dream immediately. It was one of those dreams you wake up and for some seconds you just sit there because it feels too real.

I had not dreamt of other people. I had dreamt of myself. Or rather... I had dreamt of my sins. It felt like my life was being shown back to me. Things I had done. Things I had forgotten. Things from childhood. Things I never thought I still remembered. The Sugar The first thing that came was sugar. I remembered when I was very young, maybe four or five, and I used to sneak into the kitchen and eat sugar with my fingers. I used to look around first, then quickly take some and put it in my mouth, then wipe my mouth thinking nobody would know.

But my mum always knew. I could hear her voice in that dream exactly how she used to say it: "Nani amekula sukari?" (Who has eaten the sugar?) Then she would continue, "Si nilisema msikule sukari sasa?" (Didn't I tell you not to eat the sugar?) And all of us would go quiet. I used to sit there pretending I also did not know who had eaten it. Then later my dad would come and say: "Sasa juu ya hiyo tabia hakuna sukari for one week." (Now because of that behavior, there will be no sugar for one week.) And honestly that punishment used to hurt.

Not because of beating or anything. But because now even tea had no sugar and everyone at home would suffer because of my greed.

The Lies

Then other memories started coming. I remembered lies. I remembered blaming other children for things I had done. I remembered times I became a false witness just to save myself. Mark Then I remembered something that still hurts even now. Back in Dallas Star Academy when I was in Class Five, our head teacher was Madam Bancy. That is where I met Mark.

Mark and

I became close friends. We used to share a lot. We used to sit together, talk a lot, laugh, even plan small things like how we would save money. I used to get twenty shillings from home and he usually got fifty because their family was doing better than ours. During tea break we used to go buy mandazi together. One day Mark came to me and told me he had a secret. He said: "Brandon, niko na secret, naweza kukuambia?" (Brandon, I have a secret, can I tell you?) I told him yes. Then he explained to me that he had a condition where sometimes he could not feel when he was peeing or when he needed the toilet.

At first I did not understand. I was just shocked because we were children. Then he told me: "Usiambie mtu." (Don't tell anyone.) And I agreed. But later I betrayed him. One day in the field I was telling another friend about it. I do not know if I wanted attention or if I thought it was funny. But I remember we laughed. Then I looked up. Mark was there. He had heard everything. I still remember how I felt. Shame. Real shame. He did not even shout. He just looked at me. And that look hurt me more than if he had insulted me.

That is why years later I wrote a poem called I Betrayed Mark.

The Gossip

Then I remembered gossip. And if I am honest, I have gossiped many times. Friends. Teachers. Neighbors. Even my own parents. Sometimes it felt normal. Sometimes it felt fun. Until one day I found out people were gossiping about me. That is when I understood how painful it feels. But even after that, I still struggled with it.

The Hate

Then another thing came. Hate. And this one is deep. There were times I carried hate, especially after disappointment. There were seasons I had anger toward people, even toward women. There were moments I felt like some people did not deserve kindness. I became hard inside without even noticing. Waking When I fully woke up from that dream, I just sat there in church quietly. The music was still playing. The coffee was still beside me. My Bible was still open. And I realized that night God was not showing me other people's sins.

He was showing me mine. And honestly... That hurt more than anything I had thought about that night. I picked my pen and wrote: MY SINS — Church Thoughts 004 And I just sat there for some time... thinking.