Uganda. My home. I love you but sometimes…
So I live right next to a confused church which also happens to be a primary school for locals by day and church by night and weekends .
I am yet to exhibit a perk if not perks of living next door to such. No disrespects intended. It’s just that some early Sunday mornings, I wake up to full grown exorcism; I wake up to loud music; I wake up to people singing; I wake up to screams and cries nearly every day; I wake up to loud chants possibly in a tribal language of some sort in the middle of the night. Is this how people express religion today? Let’s just say, I wake up to so many things, times ranging from 3am-11am on normal days and 3am-6pm on Sundays.
In such times, I mask their sounds with my own. They sing, they scream, they cry, they exorcise, they chant, and I, well I play my Quran preferably my current favorite reciter: Sheikh Abdullah Ali Jabir; and focus on the words of Allah and instantly my heart and mind are simultaneously soothed and I slip back into a deep slumber. Allah AkbarGod is great!!
Words of a Ramadan Addict 