Category: GRACE

Taking stock 2021

It’s time for the final Taking Stock post of 2021 – these are always fun!

The year is over!

Let’s get into it!

Becoming: Quietly confident about everything I want to do and everything I have dreamt of becoming

Curious: As to why people hire people they dont listen to. Why Kayunga has become a political battle ground. If Corona is laboratory made.

Excited: that the kids can finally go to school but also wondering if it’s not too soon for the parents to find tuition.

Feeling: Energized like everything is about to fall into place and I am getting comfortable in being me.

Going: To start a personalized domain. Soon

Imploring: Everyone to be kind to each other, there seems to be an increasing feeling of tension and division in the country at the moment.

Keeping: Everything that’s memorable

Loving: my new role and family

Making: Every second count. Time runs by quick

Observing: How well I’ve settled into my new job and paying attention to the extremes.

Reading: Newspapers once again.

Staying: Positive that tomorrow will be a better day.

Understanding: There are always two sides to a story. The told, the untold, the lie, the truth…

Watching: Sanyu, prestige on Pearl magic like Nigeria has never made anything better.

Eight decades

His shoulders hang low

Holding up a back that ached

He moved like all his youth weighed down on him

Not even the jacket on his back fit sleekly.

He dragged his feet like they were too heavy to carry

like he never once jogged or won the walk race

But his laugh….

You could see the worry lines and how they made crosses with those of joy,

The boy his parents welcomed and the man the world asked for,

The father his children adored and the best friend they craved for

the one who’d love to rise and the one who’d love to rest.

His eyes were so heavily lidded that it was almost like talking to someone asleep,

yet he was quite alert.

When he spoke, the croak of old age was expected

But his voice was more like a sergeant major, strong and distinctly upper class.

His forehead told worries of the past and present.

But mostly they were so deeply engrained

They told of a man who had travelled through eight decades to that moment

to stand here as an old man, beaten and forlorn.

To be dismissed as “old” when he was so much more than the sum of his parts.

Age had begun to play him like ping pong

Yet even then he sung kumbaya like he had all the time in the world to sip wine.

15.12 17

I wanted to write a real letter but then I thought, which song would communicate better. Ronan Keating numbers forever ain’t enough and if tomorrow never comes blended well for me. These are songs the majority of our generation and after can never understand. Maybe you too.

When I played she believes in me. I was lost in thought. I never want to lose time on us. So that when tomorrow never comes, I will be sure the love shared today will last you forever.

I still walk about in full description to the Just as I am just the way chris Tomlin aligned those lyrics but also like chante more and lattimore sang in when I say I do. I am singing right now.

It’s been quite a journey and like Joe says, priceless . Jasmine Rae sang “when I found you” I think it was specifically written for 15.12.17. More than you will ever know…I wonder why that boys 11 men song never got as much exposure but anyway, I still love butterflies just like I love flowers.

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.

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.