It was the afternoon of February 20, 2026. Mwanakwetu was somewhere with three companions. In his mind, he wanted to write a farewell article for Polycarp Cardinal Pengo, who passed away on February 19, 2026, while receiving treatment at the Jakaya Kikwete Institute in Dar es Salaam.
Suddenly, two visitors arrived where Mwanakwetu was. They spoke with one person there, and Mwanakwetu asked for their phone numbers. As he carefully typed the second number into his phone, it slipped from his hand and fell hard to the floor, shattering the screen.
“Oh no! My phone screen is broken again! I can’t live without my phone. Let me pack up and go to the technician to have it repaired.”
He bade farewell to his friends and walked about two kilometers to the repair shop. Unfortunately, the main technician was absent. Instead, he was received by two young assistants at the kiosk, who began helping him.
There were two of them—a young woman and a young man. Unfortunately, the young man did not have good manners with customers. Mwanakwetu thought to himself:
“These youths do not know why I didn’t go to another technician. They don’t understand how courteous the main technician is with his customers…”
He sat at a desk nearby as the young man carefully repaired the phone.
Looking at the time, Mwanakwetu noted it was 5:14 p.m. He reflected that if his phone had not broken, he would have already finished writing the farewell article for Cardinal Pengo. Ah well, I’ll write it later when I get home, he thought.
As he waited, his mind wandered to Cardinal Pengo’s life:
“If Cardinal Pengo was born on August 5, 1944, then his parents belonged to a generation born between the late 1880s and early 1920s—the period when missionaries first arrived. His parents may have been born between 1921 and 1930, among the earliest generations to encounter Christianity from childhood. Cardinal Pengo himself belonged to the 1940–1959 generation, likely the second or even third Christian generation after the arrival of missionaries in Tanganyika.
All these generations witnessed polygamous marriages—one man having even ten wives. A single father could have up to a hundred children. Families lived together closely, father and mother remained united until death under African traditions. There were no street children in African society.”
Meanwhile, the young woman who had first welcomed Mwanakwetu said, Sir, we need money to buy the new screen since the main technician is not here, and the shop won’t trust us.
Mwanakwetu replied, My money is in my phone. Please give me a small phone so I can insert my SIM cards and send the money.
She said she had no small phone, but they could go to a mobile money agent nearby. They did so. Mwanakwetu inserted his two SIM cards into the agent’s small phone, and with assistance—since the screen light was dim and he could barely see—he sent about twelve dollars to pay for the screen. They then returned to the kiosk for the repair to be completed.
Back at the shop, the young woman said to her colleague, Please finish this father’s phone quickly. I need to get home to cook iftar for my husband. There are no customers now until tomorrow—my husband is fasting for Ramadan.
Mwanakwetu joined the conversation and asked, Your husband is fasting for Ramadan. What are you fasting for?
She laughed and replied that she was observing Lent. It was an interfaith marriage.
This conversation drew Mwanakwetu deeper into reflection about Cardinal Pengo, recalling when he first arrived at the Archdiocese of Dar es Salaam in the 1990s, when Laurean Rugambwa was already elderly. Whenever Rugambwa visited Mbagala Parish—especially at the Mbagala Spiritual Center—he would be driven in a small car by sisters.
The matter of interfaith marriage reminded Mwanakwetu how the Catholic Archdiocese of Dar es Salaam solemnized such marriages and baptized children even when parents were of different denominations. In such marriages, the Catholic partner retained his or her faith.
“The question is: do you lose both, or keep one? It is better to keep one; later the Lord Jesus may win over the children… rather than lose everything entirely.”
Mwanakwetu remembered how Cardinal Pengo greatly supported such pastoral approaches along Tanzania’s Coast. In wedding Masses for interfaith couples, only the Catholic spouse would receive Holy Communion.
“For the one who remains steadfast in an interfaith marriage becomes a missionary. If attentive in life, he or she may bring the Gospel to places where it was difficult to reach… because they are in the battlefield.”
His thoughts continued:
“In 1880, pagan father and pagan mother bore pagan children. Missionaries arrived and baptized them. By 1920 those youths had grown up, married, and bore children between 1940 and 1955—this was the generation of Cardinal Pengo. They were baptized, educated; by the 1970s and 1980s some became priests or pastors, others married. These are the parents of people like Mwanakwetu. Here you meet a Catholic father and an Anglican mother; a Lutheran and a Moravian. They marry, have children—some Catholic, some Anglican, some Lutheran, some Moravian. Those children grow up into the 2000s, marry, have children, and by 2026 the cycle continues…”
Suddenly, he was told, Your phone is ready. He rose, collected his phone and bag, and went home. Upon arrival, he remembered to prepare this article you are now reading.
What does Mwanakwetu say today?
Indeed, Cardinal Pengo passed away at the age of 81. He was a grandfather, a father to people like Mwanakwetu. He recognized the challenges of marriage in the Archdiocese of Dar es Salaam. Previously, matters were difficult—some youths were denied entry into priestly formation because their parents were not together.
Cardinal Pengo understood the importance of parents remaining united, even with differences in faith. A child needs many things—shelter, clothing, education—and when parents communicate well, these are more easily provided. Religion should serve as a bridge to unite, not divide.
These children born of interfaith marriages are the likes of Mwanakwetu—a Catholic father and an Anglican mother. The Lord Jesus Christ loves all of us, even those born to a single parent. He came for those with weaknesses—for people like Mwanakwetu.
Mwanakwetu recalls:
“In my mother’s church, the Lord’s Prayer says, ‘Give us this day our daily sustenance.’ In my father’s church, it says, ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’ Yet it is the same Our Father in Heaven.”
Mwanakwetu says clearly that Cardinal Pengo’s very surname—Pengo (meaning “a gap” or “a break”)—symbolized making a way where none seemed possible, especially in the difficult paths of family marriage life, which requires great grace from God and wisdom from religious leaders.
Mwanakwetu extends condolences to the Catholic Archdiocese of Dar es Salaam for the loss of this leader who confirmed him at Mbagala Parish in 1993. He offers condolences to the Catholic Church in Tanzania, to the Universal Catholic Church, and to the Wafipa of Sumbawanga for losing their kinsman.
“Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace – Amen.”
Mwanakwetu, are you there? Remember:
“Farewell, Polcarp Cardinal Pengo.”
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