A friend celebrated 25 years as a priest this past weekend. Yes the real makoya Roman Catholic type that never marries and hopefully does not do what those Irish priests do to altar boys. Our relationship goes back three year more than he has been a priest. To be exact, I met him in 1981 at St Mary's Seminary in Ixopo on the foot of the Drakensberg mountains. Then I thought I would be a priest and make a wonderful one at that. It was not to be. Like Adam, I discovered the apple and it was downhill from then on. Fr Vincent with Zinhle

But the story is about my friend, Fr Vincent Mdabe, CMM. He has managed to be true to his calling through all the tribulations of life. In the period he has lost his sibblings to all manner of ills, had to bury his father and recently buried his brother. He has also played a role in the vocational guidance of young novices at Cedara. Until this year, he was the superior at Mariannhill Monastery, a position that ordinarily would have gone to someone else more older. But even being in such a position did not affect his humility. When my daughter was studying in Pinetown, Fr Mdabe would easily run my fatherly chores including taking Zinhle to a hairdresser if so needed.

So this weekend he gathered all and sundry who have known him over the years for a celebration. A good time was had by all. What more is in store for this man? Time will tell.