Puzzledlines 1221k

He entered sleep beaten

Eyes red and swollen.

His belongings wrapped in bedsheets

His night story must have been sad

And his morning to crazy for a bath

His story? I don’t know.

I didn’t ask for anxiety painted on his body

Untold stories of his life

#Puzzledlines 1121k

She liked the way the road smelled in the evenings. Like rain falling on window panes, crickets sang old songs in darkness

She liked the way brewing coffee smelled in the mornings. Like baking on the Christmas eve, Carol’s softly playing in the background.

She liked the feel of paper against her fingers. A Jack Reacher kind of read on a lazy afternoon. Imagination created on empty streets.

She liked the warmth of sunsets. Especially the part where they kissed the earth goodnight. The awaking of the moon. Silence sang a soft soul.

77 times

77 times is so many times for a heart to recover.

Tell me, is yours made of steel

Even steel would wear out I presume

All the efforts to frustrate you and instead of giving up, you grieve

Grieve for me?

After all the grace you have poured out to me you still grieve?

Yes I know who you are, the priest, mama, bible have told me.

But who are you and what have I done to deserve more than 77.

What kind of reckless love is this?

Who taught you how to love?

Did they ever tell you about the fragility of the heart?

I mean, one disappointment, just one was enough to break my heart, frustrate my love and give up on people.

And here you are after 77 forgiving, loving and hugging the same man that hurt you.

Maybe forgiving is easy but, do you know the magnitude of forgetting especially a broken trust?

Why would you even leave the 99 to look for one.

See, that’s reckless love because suppose then the 99 all disappear, then what?

Hey you….I have been told, I have read about calvary.

And now I am speaking to a very invisible you and I am standing in an empty chapel , facing the alter, assuming it’s where you reside most…

Seeking for answers because my heart and head are at battle

You were too quick answering small prayers of things I even joked about and when I am in serious need all I get is silence.

are you still attending to the one sheep

Or are you busy running the 77 campaign? (Its too good though)

Even I know that I dont deserve that much of forgiveness.

Many times I am too lost I dont even feel worthy of your presence. Too dirty and undeserving

Yet when I come before you, you receive me like the left five minutes meant nothing (reckless love)

You love fwaaa…..or maybe not.

So let’s talk about 77.

Your heart bleeds more than what you shed at calvary i assume.

One time pain is enough for many of us to throw that grace away (we are so undeserving)

Thank you for not giving up on us. I cant say that we will emulate and be exactly like you…

But forgive us for all those tantrums we throw at you

For when we feel entitled and are too arrogant to say “thank you today I still have breath!”

For when we are so unforgiving yet we commit the gravest sins that you overlook and forgive us but we never do the same.

Thank you for those so many chances because…..77 is too many times for a hearbreak

The Night Jasmine

There was a warm breeze in the car as they drove past the cemetery flowers

The somber mood brightened by the sweet Aroma of the night blooming Jasmine.

What is the flower? Cate asked holding her breath to take it all in.

It’s the night blooming Jasmine. Paul said.

The scent fell on the neutral ground along the street tracks where they had just parked.

Rubbing a tear , Cate said. Atleast she will not smell the sadness around her every night when the cemetery attendants go home. She will have a cool breeze, and a sweet aroma to inhale.

They had sat down at the cemetery most of the evening. After everyone left the burial grounds, Paul and Cate stayed and when damn fell they started out. Her dad had just been laid down at the same cemetery and while everyone else went home like nothing had happened the two siblings had no idea what to do.

They parked for a while and when the moon started to pour out its beauty, they headed home. Most sad stories open up with a beautiful view and a sweet scent of flowers.

Nations @ 3

I thought my water phobia was bad…until i became a mother.

Dear Nations

I know life had no manual but damn, i have never been afraid of failure like i am about failing at parenting. See, i am very water phobic but after i crossed over bunyonyi at midnight with my eyes closed i know God is still reigning.

Anyway these past years have been eggshells for me and i think they wont stop as yet. Everyday i am working hard to being the best friend, mom and parent. Yes, i have come to learn those are different packages. there are days i am so overwhelmed that i cry to myself and there are days i get anxiety and panic attacks because i am praying and trying not to fail you. I really want you to be a proud daughter and a friend. Someone that isn’t afraid of opening up to me. Yes, we can gossip about them boys, i had my days too but i will await that age. For now i am glad i have all the help i need raising you and mostly i am soo glad i know God because with you alone i pray for twin mothers Jeez… mental health is a must. Anyway, i pray this new year comes with all the constants i have prayed and told God about since day one.

Did I tell you about the covid-19 pandemic? The world stopped. Yes the whole world. Economies scrambled, people died, people lost jobs … basically we were living because of Christ. Isnt it amazing that we (your loved ones) survived the pandemic. Those are the kind of things we dont take for granted.

Lets do this year thing together as always my champion. No giving up on each other. We are in this for eternity! God being our guide

Puzzled lines 1210k

The best is yet to come

And that may not be quite fun

You have seen the sun

But its yet to shine

With souls entwined

Candles lit under the moon light

With silent tears and loud memories

A glowing heart and distance.

Thirty years under the sun

Couple of empty years

True love is worth the wait

Not with absence , that bitch makes the heart go crazy

Continue counting stars, another decade is yet to come.

It was about the building

Google pics

We met over lunch, so let’s just call him Tom. We discussed mostly school and work. He said he wanted to have a master’s degree and while we spoke, he said he just wants to get one from a none serious institution.

Now Tom had my attention,

What do you mean a non- serious institution?

See, I went to MUK for my bachelors. However, my line of work now doesn’t collaborate with anything i learnt while there. The papers got me a job because the requirement was a university degree. First of all I went to MUK because of the buildings.

How do you mean buildings?

Well, when I was looking for a university Kyambogo buildings looked like my primary school and I wasnt pleased at sight then MUK buildings caught my attention but the hustle of getting in , staying in and getting out was also another story all together.

He says unbothered.

So what do you want with your masters, more buildings?

No, I want the papers because it’s the papers that got me where I am. See the Education system is so bad like that. All the chemistry I did was to waste time. My line of work now has no chemistry. Then getting employed is about the networks. It could be on total merit but also you need to know someone within.

I nod my head and sip on my juice because as much as I can relate. I dont know if it’s the papers or the buildings still talking

Now, I want to go to place that is very unserious. I enroll for 2 years but pay someone to do all class and coursework for me. All I need is papers because most employers will ask for that and not the knowledge I acquired. The rest can be learnt on job. I mean they have turned workplaces into classrooms because you need experience and Papers . Not knowledge of the job as much. However,a little knowledge gets you through .

So , you want papers and you dont want to be present in acquiring them?. How about you just go to Nasser, that’s a legit unserious institution.

You dont get it..(he mentions some universities) that’s what I mean.

Well, Nasser can be anything you want it to be. I said getting up because I had nothing more to add

Taata William

A couple of months ago we were all excited in his behalf. He had wanted this child so much so God gave him a boy as he had prayed. His madam, was worried because her pressure kept playing tricks the whole pregnancy and it’s in this time she told us about her failing heart.

The Doctors in small clinics kept referring her to the big hospital through out bug the lord had heard her cries. In due time, the hospital she planned to birth at sent her away to another because they were scared on taking the risk of a c-section with the condition of her heart. Gladly, they found one that worked on her and in no time they were home with their baby boy.

I know she had wanted a girl but he had wanted a boy and the lord Delivered what he believed was better. “Mungu tagera kibi” I told her.

Daily she went about her duties, cleaning and looking after her little family. I gifted her Bottles and wanzies my girl never got to use because she was a tiny one. We were happy for her. And we had long forgotten the blood pressure and heart. Taata William was over the roof as a new dad.

Last week she was hanging clothes by the line like she does on a daily , sat around the veranda made a meal for her family and I promise she was healthy and full of life or let’s say physically she was okay and she didnt complain of anything until the night.

At about midnight, taata william came for to door banging…”munyambe Mama William anfako” puzzled some of us looked because I mean she was okay.

“Did you fight?”the old lady asked.

‘No, she was feeding Willaim and out of no where she said she was out of breath nd in less than a minute she was down” he said crying.

Immediately we found a neighbor to drive her to hospital for she had started releasing foam from her mouth and nose.

At hospital they were almost held back. Mama William died long before she left the house. Everything happened so first. The hospital gave her back and in no time, burial was arranged. They were not wedded, not even traditionally, the chaos of our child begun. He was grieving, they were grieving but also blaming him for never having officially married their daughter. He had a son to think about, he was puzzled…

Burial happened quick, he got back home to look after his son with his mother and brother staying back to help out.

I say him today, his shirt hanging over his shoulders like a wet shirt on the line. His joy was long gone. I didnt know what to say, I wanted to hug him so tight and have him cry it out and maybe scream but all that would seem strange. I stood aside looking at him as he held his chin in his palm, his mother on the veranda feeding William who is two and half months old.

William must be wondering where the boob is for the last one week but also she had bottle started on him, so he knew both boob nd bottle. He must be wondering why he doesnt smell his mother anymore… but more than William, I feel after the dad. He was excited for this new family and now all that happiness has been wiped away from his face. He is often lost in thought , he even hasnt resumed work. He must be worrying about his little boy, if he will ever be enough for him, if they will grow together, wondering if he will ever find another woman, wondering if he will ever heal from this heart ache.

“Mukama tagera kibi” I tell him.

Mama Nations, ekyo kitufu naye teyantegese bulungi, my faith is wavering. I have lots of questions and I have no one to answer them because the God I have served all these years doesnt answer up as quickly as we ask. I am empty and in pain and lost for expression.

I couldn’t hug him. So we sat apart stating in space.

Gratitude notes #4


Love (read God) has defended me in battles I even dodnt know about.

It’s in the connections I cant explain (mothers know this)

It’s not being able to stay angry because the warmth of that blanket cant let you-love

It’s more than the butterflies and late night calls but love makes sure you are happy

It’s all unexplainable things. I am grateful for the love that broke me, that caused silent tears that made me sing broken hallelujahs, that made me praise in the hallway as much as I am grateful for the love that turned me into a battle hymn, a loud song if praise, a silent worshiper, a thankful soul, a mix of emotions. A love that lifted me when nothing made sense.

A love that made me dance because I am too thankful to forget.

Gratitude notes #3

So thankful for home.

Once I met a lost lady, you know they say home is where the heart is?

Her own was empty, she was suicidal. She loitered the streets with her son. Sought for shelter with friends so her son knew many houses but had no home too.

I asked about her parents and she said they had thrown her out when she got pregnant. So did the baby daddy.

Anyway, some things that we dont find of importance others yearn to have. I am grateful that I have had and continue to have a place I call home. A place that hugs when when things fall apart. A place that gives me warmth on rainy days and serves me tea with a smile.

A place that will not judge me, well if it does it’s not to my face so I always feel welcome nonetheless.

Home! I am grateful