BUS PREACHERS

We are probably the last crop of a dying breed of preachers.

The kind that hinge our craft on good old fashioned passion, without the fireworks, stage lights, camera ready and corporate culture that thrills today's preachers.

We do not need a pulpit to function - the semi open doors of a soon to depart bus would do.

We do not need a congregation either - every passenger is automatically converted to a willing listener.

In the eyes of many, our job really is a thankless one - hours spent speaking to diverse sets of people, half of whom are not interested in what we have to say; and another half who are waiting to give me some crumpled N50 note as a pity gift at the end of my sessions.

Sometimes, I wonder why we bother. The economic realities we face are enough reasons to stay out of the firing line and seek for better avenues to reach people with our message.

But somehow, if we are able to get the most unbothered passenger to hear a word or two from our sermon and mutter a phrase or two from our choruses, we are satisfied.