Flickering candles pierce the dark African night.Crickets join husky voices lifted in Kinyarwandan song.
Call and response, rhythm of hands, shuffle of the dance.
The cadence breaking into complex syncopation. Hands feet limbs, lips cast shadows on the red dirt floor.
Pews of plastic chairs abandoned in favor of a wild praise dance.
Power outages do not stop worship here ... I have a hunch Africans might be God's favorite.