Category: GRACE

#ItWasAs 1yr ago today

I do recall texting my girls like 2hrs after and going home in silence. My body shaking and I was actually hiding my fingers the whole time. It happened over a late lunch and as much as i was hungry, i lost my appetite. Well, yes. I went home called my mother out of the kitchen we got into her bedroom and in my hands i had a proposed date and on the other a ring and still shaking after our chat i went off to my bed.

On this day last year I said yes.

That might be all I shall say for now. But maybe one day soon I shall tell you the details.  However, it has been an amazing journey full of happiness and joy. Fights and arguments but most of all, full of gossip.

Don’t be one of the many that ask why the 💍 is on that finger. Because the answer will be not what I shall think about but what I have rehearsing thoroughly well.

#OkayBye let me go back to my things. At least now you know why I haven’t had those stories in a while. I am still “covering my face with my palms” (like those instagram proposal pics I mean) and don’t argue I know it’s a year later but yes, I had a delayed reaction that day I didn’t until I realized (from all the FB and insta pics and videos of others) that I had to cry, scream, hold my breath and cover my face with my palms and over blink so am doing exactly that now.

#bye

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GROWING UP

I knew one thing for sure, life has no manual although my niece keeps asking why it doesn’t have one. 

So I had my future planned out @13. (Like head off planned out) I knew where I wanted to be and what I wanted to be doing. @15 I taught some Sunday school and I loved it but then after a couple of years my church (COU) nolonger had sheep. They had all left for the well structured buildings and miracles and all those cool things. So I moved church to the one that led my small church. I secured my self a seat and every Sunday I woke up and when to attend the 9 o’clock service and I sat in the same spot made a few friends. These few people always expected that I stayed back after service to chat but then (my mother was an administrator in church. I hated how long we stayed at church because she had to say hello to everyone till they all left then we could go home). Church was strictly a place of worship for me after I have done what has brought me, am out. I liked to stay atimes but mostly I left. 

School was not exactly as I expected. I was taught too many things that I don’t apply but even then I still went because “education is the key to success”. I knew what I exactly wanted to be and do in future. no sciences but I still had to pass and stay in school or my mother would rebuke all the demons. I attended to many schools and made too many friends and passed so I was average at it all. I didn’t excel in all those fields but I did good. 

So, maybe I grew up a little first but for the first time at the university I chose everything. The university I attended, the place I slept, the clothes, the course, I was in charge. Sometimes and many times I still got and get overwhelmed but life happens. I ventured into the field am passionate about in my form 6 vacation and I loved to wake up knowing am going to write and share with the world even though I mostly write for myself. I WAS WRITING For one of the big media houses and I had very cool supervisors and mentors. Through university I did this. I moved media houses and I loved it. But sometimes if not most times Passion doesn’t pay bills. A friend told me about blogging we sat down with her and I came up with this beautiful “Kadali” and I found a job. Not a passion. A job. And worked and it paid bills. It was out of everything I ever dreamt of doing but yes it does pay my bills. 

So the dream was and maybe one day it will leave my head and get into action. To write and write and start a publication of my own and write and touch souls not just hearts and bodies through the ink. Something that I love.  Wear stockings beneath my short skirt without people asking why I don’t show my legs off. Wear trench coats on rainy days without a car and walk on the streets chewing roasted maize. Sitting at the bus station with a cup of coffee and writing a new piece. And just live without worrying. But since I have no manual, one day at a time.

What am I saying. You guys that follow me that read my blog. That make me wake up everyday knowing I will say and do something I love even for an hour are amazing. Thank you for letting me know that I don’t need a big office at a studio apartment (as yet) thank you for making me feel excited and happy (even when it hasn’t paid yet) your smiles. Your time. Your love is enough. I feel paid. You make me feel alive and I guess sometimes, that’s all that’s needed life+happiness=fulfillment. Thank you. May God always keep my head and speech in my fingers. May my pen never run out. And may my mind always be alive. May you live to see the publication grow.

Her Mouth Full of Venom

Fatima the Village belle, you will be seeing her very soon. She normally comes around the spring to fetch water before the sun goes down. She walks with elegance of a queen mother yet her mouth is full of venom. Her speech is like a bee sting, it hurts way after she has spoke and causes your heart to swell yet there’s nothing you can do. Nakku softly told Lunkuse

Nakku and her cousin Lunkuse sat down by the spring. They had finished fetching water but wanted to catch up abit. Lunkuse had come from Kampala for holidays and while they fetched water, she needed to be up to date with the village gossip and other details.

“how do you mean, how can her mouth be full of venom?” Lunkuse asked. But just before she could respond. Fatima, walked towards them. A fine belle, with the most colourful waist beads adorned beautiful around her waist. she walked with so much calmness indeed like that of a queen. Her breasts covered with a tinny wrapper that stopped just alittle bit above her naval. Her eyes, like a glow warm. Lunkuse’s jaw dropped while she stared at this beauty. she was like a moon on a dark sky. And when she opened her lips to speak, her white teeth were exposed. ‘she is so beautiful,’ Lunkuse said to her cousin aloud. Fatima smiled.

Fatima was the girl that had all village boys fighting because they wanted to impress her. Some gave up the struggle because of the Venom she spat. she was a wild fire on the village. A beautiful maiden and a warrior yet her speech full of poison. Her mother often said the gods had cursed her for once abusing an old lady. She didnt raise her that way. Some said, her pride grew fatter than her beauty so it destroyed her speech. she had a tongue of fire, very disrespectful and the kind of words she let out didnt resemble the beauty she was. She missed out on the best suitors because she didnt know when it was right for her to speak or when not to.

Lunkuse watched her fetch water and when she was done, she rolled her nkata and lifted her Jerrycan to her head and begun to walk away. Lunkuse kept staring at her until she was nolonger in sight. Nakku tapped her shoulder telling her they need to get going. She stood up in disbelief. ‘I still want to understand how her mouth is full of venom!’ She said. 

Well, Lunkuse said. They say, she is a prophet of doom. Everything she says comes to pass. Personally I haven’t experienced it but she once passed by Jajja Kabuye’s garden and jokingly said, nothing will ever grow in it and all the Maize he had planted died and the ground has never been able to hold any food it’s why Jajja rents the farms where he grows his food. “That is very sad.” Lunkuse said. 

So all the guys fear to betroth or marry her because they believe she will bring bad lack into their households. ‘I want to be her friend’Lunkuse said. “She has no friends, we have all been told to avoid her because she is bad lack”. ‘How does that transmit, like flu?’ Lunkuse asked disturbed. Well, we all follow what the elders say.

The next day Lunkuse sneaked out of the compound and went to Fatima’s house. She found her wrapping matooke in banana leaves before she could put it on the fire. ‘Hello’ she said as she got off her knees. My mother isn’t home but you can come in and wait.  “I came to see you Fatima. I want us some to be friends”. Well, all the maidens in this place were warned to stay away from me incase you haven’t been told. I don’t want to cause you trouble. ‘I have been told but still choose to be your friend. I think there’s more to you than what they all choose to see.’I am humbled. Well take a seat as I finish up then we can sit and converse. 

Lunkuse sat down by the verander and waited. When Fatima was done,she joined her. She told her about her troubles and Lunkuse told her about Kampala. She also told her about God. The little she learnt from Sunday school because she hardly attended church as a teenager unless she was in school. They became friends and for the rest of the Holiday she went to Fatima’s house because no household welcomed her. Lunkuse’s auntie had warned her several times but she had insisted on being Fatima’s friend despite the fact that she had been threatened to be sent back to Kampala. She had however tried to explain that Fatima had been born lovable and everything could change if they all welcomed her and tried to help. She needed to be loved and understood that way she could practice to tame her tongue as well. 

Should I call him Daddy?

She said,”mama, let’s go out and do some shopping. I hope he likes this dress on me. Mam, do you think he likes blue, do you even still recall the things he like?”.

She saw her little girl trying to look her best for her very first meet with her dad. She had showed him pictures on several occasions, he had promised on several occasions that he would come and see her but never turned up. She cried in her mother’s arms for 3 years and would wake up smiling and believing he would one day come and that day had arrived. She looked at her six-year-old daughter paying attention to every detail like she was going for her school dance and teared. “mama, are you crying?” she asked drawing closer to her mother. “No, sweetheart, am happy seeing that I have raised such a beautiful girl.” they hugged. She whispered, Daddy will like it. he will like whatever you pick up. He can’t resist such a gorgeous girl. Pulling out, she said,Mama, should i be calling him daddy or…Yes darling. Whatever happened, he is still your father.

But mama, i wasnt good enough for him, it’s why he left. She said no, darling, You were too good and he didn’t want to taint the image of you before finding himself. So tone it down, meet him half way. Okay baby?.

 

They left and went home to prepare for lunch. She pulled out a box and brought it to her mother. She had been writing letters to him for the past three years. hoping that at each birthday he would surprise her and come so she would have a chance to read them to him. she asked, if it was okay to do it today and she said yes. A knock at the door and she rushed out all smiles. She followed her, opened the door and their he was. With her smile still plastered on her face she said, “you are welcome, please come in.” He went in and sat down. She pulled her little chair and sat in front of him. ‘My name is Yetta. mummy likes to call me sunshine.’She said as she extended her hand. He said. Nice to meet you Physically Yetta. They both went silent after that.

‘I have something for you.’Yetta went in and pulled out a shirt they picked out together at the mall. She had asked her mum what kind of things he liked back in the day. She came out and handed him a green Polo shirt and stood back like a scout on parade waiting for him to say something but he didn’t so her mother interrupted…

She had been watching them both as she laid the table. she went into the kitchen after everything, tried to suspend her tears and once she was ready she came out and said, “hello Phillip. How have you been”?. I have been fine. How are you both?. We are in love. she said looking down at her little girl. Lunch is served lets please get to the dinning. She added as she turned to lead the way. They sat down, Yetta said the grace and they ate in silence. Her little girl stared at the man she is supposed to call father and tears filled her eyes. She was speechless. She stood up walked up to him, his head buried into the plate in front of him, she reached out and held his face in her little palms and said “Daddy, Mama and I are happy but maybe we would have been a little happier……Tears filled his eyes. It’s the first time she had ever seen the father of her child egoless……He said, “i refuse to cry today, it’s a happy day as he tried to fight back the tears. His voice was breaking.

she stood up to clear the table. Philip spoke out to his little girl, “baby, i love you. I should have stayed”. She was dying to hear those words for sometime as much as her daughter. “today has been a little bit awkward. I need to be ready…” He added kneeling down before Yetta. I love the shirt. Thank you very much. I see you have got taste. Allow me to leave now and soon as am ready i pray it will be better. She said, “daddy there’s still time. Tell God about it and talk to mummy…..(She drew closer to whisper) “we have lots of space for you”….. He got up said thank you to his daughters mother and left…..

 

MY FATHER’S EYES

I saw my world through his eyes. He always made sure we were better. I hope we turned out good. His vision and dreams, I hope its how we have lived.

Dear dad,
I hope we have turned out to be the children you desired, viewed the world through your eyes. I know we have fallen short many times. Many times we get ashamed but you taught us not to stay on the ground after falling. You taught us the power in resilience. I hope we have turned out like you prayed and envisioned.
The world of having enough and satisfied you lived. I hope when you look at us now, you see exactly that. Children that are comfortable with little and enough. You always said “Don’t know borrow” I hope we have all lived up to this because teaching us to manage little means we get comfortable with enough. I pray our children, your grand children take this on as well. Because God has trusted us with plenty through the years as well but we I hope you can say, we have fallen into your footsteps. Not for many things but we sure have tried.
I hope you can say we have made you proud. I hope you can comfortably say we are the children you dreamt of raising. Through your eyes…u didn’t see us lack and I hope when you say those little prayers you let God know that he hasn’t left your side. He has taken care of us as you envisioned.
Through your eyes. Life is meant to be simple and not complicated. Wealth is good but wealth that’s not tangible is the best. Silence resolves conflict better than war waged. The rod isn’t only a piece of wood, speech can be a rod. Patience is a virtue that the patient aren’t sure they qualify for. Honesty costs nothing. Integrity is something to hold and guard jealously. Faithfulness isn’t just a word. Love isn’t just want the internet gets to see, it’s what your heart rejoices about. Happiness is key even when sometimes you need to give it up for others to have a share of it. A few of the lessons you taught. You hoped you would see in us. I hope when you look at us we don’t have an equivalent in these lessons.

Letters to Dad

When a man loves God everything is solved.
Dear dad,

I didn’t know how much you loved God till I grew up. I mean some of us believe loving God and all is going to church every other Sunday. But I have only seen you do that once in a year. I have you study your bible daily and seen u mock us that go to church every other day. But I have seen your love and I don’t doubt that you are a man that sought God before anything else. The way you love us. The way you have loved us. If this is how Hosea love Gomer or better still How God loves His church. We surely don’t need to study the bible so hard to know what love is.

I have seen you love everything that is living and is non living. I have on many occasions told people I am a love child and they refused because love children are those made oba before marriage oba when simanyi. But yea you have turned me into one of them. I hope the rest feel the same. I am sure even kaboroga doesn’t want a new owner ever, she has been loved by the best. Selflessly and dearly. I hope and pray I never fall short in this area. I pray God never allows us all to fall short because it will be embarrassing to be brought up by love and yet we don’t know what the hell it is ourselves. Thank you for loving me(us), for being the example, the perfect one. Besides being a comedian. …..

Great full

S

Little Prayer

When my hope if frail and my soul dry

When my heart is weak and mind empty

When my legs are sick and my body aches

When my speech is of a stammerer and my tongue heavy

When my chest is heaving and my blood boiling

When my eyelids are swollen,

My spirit drowning in tears

When a song is placed unto my heart

And my lips can’t make a sound

When my song is only a hallelujah and my hands raised high

When the music of my heart causes me to tear

And joy overwhelms me

When love drowns me

And glory shines my path

Spirit lead me where my faith is without borders. Amen.

#PuzzledLines

She said I wore my heart on my sleeve
My trust as anklets
Walked with peace and hope like Grace was my name
She didn’t know that with all of that,
Faith was my “hello” kinda friend
And each time I saw her,a hurricane of emotions took over.
She said I spoke like Esther

What She didn’t know was that Esther was a friend that became family.

She didn’t know that I only met Esther when Vashti had made me feel vulnerable and hopeless then she took me in and treated me like her own.
She said I love like that’s all matters
And indeed that’s all that matters because I was bought when love was slain.

It was my world and without it, then the labour (crucifixion) wouldn’t have been worth it
Some hearts are at a brink of death so give yourself sometime and breathe

The broken baker #HerTale

As a young girl she was excited, she had dreams and she loved him so much. One day she finds out she was pregnant and because where shebcame from conceiving while you were still staying at your father’s house was an abomination, they decided to get married before it was visible. He came from a good back ground and loved her. He observed the norms and visited her parents. It was a celebration. It was a colourful day and while she was still pregnant, the parents agreed that she will move in with him as his wife. She was excited but they both wanted more being Christian. A white wedding and a traditional wedding but first, the baby had to be born.

He pampered her, loved the life out of her. They were very beautiful together, the kind of couple you look at and immediately die of Envy. They were young and so in love. They played and prayed together.

Baby came hardly two months later, he was no more. Her heart sunk, he dreams were no more but mostly, she was empty like her life was over. Hardly a year since they moved in together. He didn’t even get to play with the child he was so in love with. He was gone. She broke. A part of her that no one could fix was broken. She talked about her best friend at his wake like he was still living. She tried to be strong but that was only an attempt.

She baked!

Something that kept her busy. But he looked so much like him. Each time she sat home at 6pm she cried. She hoped maybe he would return home like he used to after work and bathe their son and eat food made by her. But that was only hope. She cried, into the dough as she baked, she cried herself to sleep. She was depressed, she didn’t know how to start. She wasn’t sure of the market for the cakes but she baked. Her back still tied up as tradition demanded. Humming hymns to herself. Sometimes the cakes were salty from the tears, other days they tasted love because she played back all the lovely moments. Soon she knew she needed to stop crying and bake with love for her son needed a strong mother and a future and milk. But she never stopped talking about him. She is my broken Baker.

Love Letters-18

My heart was no longer in my control

Its restlessness,I didn’t know what to do with it

My efforts were all decorational

It screamed nothing but her name

She was like the pulmonary vein

Nothing else seemed to shift

She arrested my mind

And cuffed my soul

She made music from my misery

And poetry from my happiness.

I sat down

Writing lyrics of her name

Playing back each time

And right their, i stayed.

Waiting on her

Of whom my heart wasn’t worthy.