My life in a Catholic Convent in Italy

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My life in a Catholic Convent in Italy


Noooooo I was not training to be a nun. That dream died when I landed in Nairobi. My family is full of police officers, nuns, nurses, and priests.  We thrive in the service industry and that's how Mother Superior (The global head of Consolata sisters) sent a holy letter inviting me to Italy. With that level of holiness, my visa was granted at the first attempt.

My Auntie Sr. C had given me holy travel advisory, mbandi when you get to the airport just identify yourself to any nun. On the plane say hi to any nun. Don't forget to wear your rosary. Nawa I dey look like a novice. Nuns are friendly don't fear them, remember to pray, don't eat from strangers, and don't talk to men. Ati? What did you say, auntie? I was about to remind her the demand for Italian men in Kenya is very high then I remembered she is a nun.

Fast forward, we spent the evenings watching movies, Jesus movies not those other movies. Have you ever watched the Jesus crucifixion one? We watched it in a week because these nuns ooo paused so many times to cry. Why are they beating him? Sister Mary, why? Sr. Caterina, see, Oh, God he can't walk, Sr. Jerusha, he is bleeding, this is wrong, and they would comfort each other then recite 10 hail Marys and go to bed. The next day we would continue, Why did they even insist on watching it? Anyway,

My room was similar to the Serena hotels 250 dollar room. And all the other rooms were the same. Here, everyone is equal. The building is similar to the Machakos county white house. Behind the huge perimeter wall, are hundreds of the most beautiful ladies in the universe dressed in sparkling white outfits.  From young to grandmas, all nationalities were represented. Nuns are beautiful, and their hair!  Behind those veils, goodness! Let me stop corrupting your mind. Just know they live a normal life like you when indoors. They even have nashoro hair wash days.

Being at the convent meant I live according to their schedule and though not 100%, at least learn to behave extremely well.  6 am, diiing doooong and we ought to go for Italian mass. I spent all the time looking keenly at my aunt to know when to kneel, sit, stand, and move because of the language barrier. We are Catholics, mass time is gym time. Slow Aerobics it is.  The next bell at 7 was for breakfast. More prayers and we dug into the 5-star course breakfast. Who said nuns are poor? Shhhh they are very rich. Like extremely rich. Well, in Italy I mean.

Look out for part 2. I'll tell you about how we drank wine and beer during meals.

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