There are days when time itself pauses to listen, when even the wind moves softly, as though in reverence. Such was the day we laid Charles Ndungu to rest. The funeral flowed like a quiet river — smooth, solemn, and dignified — untouched by confusion or chaos. Every moment seemed wrapped in grace, as if heaven had choreographed the ceremony in gentle, silent perfection.
The chapel glowed with candles of remembrance; the hymns rose like incense to the sky. Later, at the reception, the air was laced with the warm scent of Kenyan delicacies — chapatis, samosas, and mandazis — reminding us that even in grief, the familiar taste of home can soften the edge of sorrow. Nearly a hundred souls came, faces marked with love and longing, to celebrate a life that had touched theirs in quiet, unassuming ways.
Angels in Human Form
No farewell is complete without the unseen angels who make it possible. To Father Dominic Kyrkoherde of St. Eugenia Catholic Church and Father Maxim from Medborgarplatsen Catholic Church, our hearts bow in gratitude. Their words flowed like balm over open wounds, their presence radiated the calm certainty of faith.
To the Funeral Committee, your coordination was the invisible architecture upon which this day stood tall. You worked with devotion, grace, and precision, turning sorrow into order and despair into dignity. And to all who gave — in money, in words, in time, or simply in presence — you became the hands through which God comforted the grieving.
The Symphony of Compassion
We are deeply grateful to Samuel Muirani, the Master of Ceremony, and Sheilla Mustaq, his steady companion at the podium. You guided us with poise and empathy, holding the ceremony together like a fine thread of gold. DJ Kajoe, your solemn melodies stitched together moments of memory and reflection, reminding us that even sorrow has its own rhythm.
To those who served food at the reception, your kindness was nourishment for both body and soul. Margaret, your candle-lighting ceremony symbolized more than remembrance; it was a dialogue between earth and eternity. Sarah Wamaitha, your month-long presence beside Jane was a silent sermon of love. Christin Gikandi, thank you for guiding Jane through the maze of church procedures. You became her compass when she needed direction the most.
And to Duncan Murimi from the UK, Lina Ogola from California, and Linet Ogola from Minnesota — your journeys across continents were not just travels, but pilgrimages of love. We regret that Oliva Jagalo Ogola, Charles’s father, could not be with us physically due to visa challenges. Still, when his voice echoed electronically through the hall, it was as if his spirit had flown across oceans to embrace his son one last time.
The Eternal Dialogue Between Life and Death
Death, that ancient thief, comes uninvited, stealing breath, scattering laughter, and leaving us to rearrange the pieces of memory. Yet even in its cruelty, death teaches. It reminds us that every sunrise is borrowed, that every heartbeat is a fragile flame, and that love — not longevity — is the accurate measure of a life well-lived.
Charles’s passing carved a silence into our days, but in that silence we hear something profound: the language of gratitude, the wisdom of impermanence. For it is death that urges us to love without caution, to forgive without condition, and to live with tenderness toward all that breathes.
Grief is the shadow love casts when light departs — heavy, real, and unrelenting. Yet, as we gathered to mourn, we found within that shadow the outline of something luminous — the enduring beauty of memory.
The Circle of Love That Remains
To everyone who took time from busy weekday schedules to stand beside Jane and the family — thank you. To the WhatsApp support group, whose digital messages became threads of comfort woven through sleepless nights, your compassion transcended screens and touched hearts.
Above all, we lift our thanks to Almighty God, whose unseen hand steadied us through every step, whose mercy clothed our sorrow in peace.
Charles now rests among angels, not gone, only transformed. His laughter lingers in the corridors of memory; his kindness echoes in the hearts he touched. Though his chair now sits empty, his spirit remains seated among us, whispering reminders to live gently, to love deeply, and to forgive quickly.
Farewell, Charles. The sun has set, but its warmth still glows in our hearts. You are not lost to us. You have merely crossed over to the brighter side of eternity.
Okoth Osewe,
Information Desk,
Charles Funeral Committee,
Stockholm – Sweden.
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