Tuesday, February 26, 2013

If Only to be innate

I thought I’d write a poem. This time though unlike most times, I got the title and nothing else; but still I thought I’d give it a try. The title sounds too interesting to go to waste. Last night we argued about cars. How for some it is enough for the car to be beautiful; saying it does not matter what horse power it has if it will massage me on my way to a far off land. To others that was a non-issue, how can you be considered beautiful when you are non-functional. We laughed and shouted about what kind of love was better. Funny, the bottom line is we simply loved those cars, it did not matter why. Their names are fancy too. Aston Martin 177, Porsche, Cayenne, I mean, quite exquisite if I should say so myself.

The other day I had a strange dream. I have many of those but this was lovely strange. I dreamt I was riding a bike. I know what you are thinking, that is an ordinary thing. I was a ninja! You should have seen me, flying and swerving and totally unafraid. It was freedom. You see, the thing is, I cannot ride a bike in actual sense. I am not yet confident with my driving skills either but when I awoke, I wanted to do both. All fear aside, I want to drive and ride a bike.
I could have easily been this guy!

There is a certain joy in my heart, as if anticipation. I am going to audition for choir; so I have been listening to music trying to practice. Blame it on Pitch Perfect, it had the same effect on me that glee had; made me want to sing! Made me want to forget my vocal short comings and just try. So Now I am constantly doing voice drills and singing under my breath, whispering in the bathroom. I want to sing! Last night we were talking about Japanese animation and how it is just the best in the world. So, a couple of days from now, a few friends and I are going paint ball fighting. I am so excited at even just the thought of it. Bankai!!!! This means war!!!

Innate. The few times I have heard it used, led me to believe it meant non-living objects. These things that people have a tendency to obsess about but Microsoft word has given me synonyms like Distinctive, Inherent, intrinsic; Words that seem profound. Yet, the poem I wanted to write would have been ‘if only to be innate, then maybe my object of desire would want to have me. ..blah blah‘
Earlier today, I was thinking about what a perfect date would look like for me. I love to eat, yes but that doesn’t take first place in my world. I want fun and games. I want silliness. I want Didi’s world, bumper car rides, Ferris wheel, face painting and paintball fights. I want picnics where we try to sing not caring whether we sound nice or not but sing because our hearts are full. I don’t have a boyfriend and that, in the past could have easily had me wishing for someone to share all this with but…

Have you met my friends?

They are the nuttiest awesomest people in the world! True story. Hands down (something I often say with my hands raised, I wonder why).  My little group of friends, is innate (I don’t even know how to use that word). They are Distinctive, Inherent, Essential, Deep down and all the other synonyms for the synonyms Microsoft word has given me; intrinsic.
Yes, we were using public transport!

I learnt a new word yesterday, Indelible. My friend said,

“The Holy Spirit’s work in us is indelible” Cannot be erased, un deletable, wow! We may not be able to see it physically but…

“The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit” John 3:8 NIV
That's Oba in the background

I believe friendships are part of the Holy Spirit’s work. How He got such a strange bunch of souls to find each other! I cannot explain but I know it; and it is indelible. Thanks Oba, for that new word; and thank you everyone for being my friend. Thank you God for everything!

Friday, February 22, 2013

15000/= too much...

Today is the 22nd day of the month, right? I have spent the whole week weighing what the odds are that we shall be paid this week seeing as I ran out of money last week. It is friday and we still have not been paid. I work for one of those organisations that does not have a definate pay date but last month, I'm pretty sure we were paid around this time. Hmmmm....

I have 15000/= left not just in my pocket, give or take a few coins but in my life! It is usually when you are low on cash that you realise how much you need and want to do that no doubt requires money. Tommorrow, I am going to have breakfast with the kids of God's grace orphanage in Kyebando. I wish I had more to offer them than just my presence. I wish I had been paid so that I give them money. There are like twenty other places I'd like to go over the weekend but I have only 15000/= and I must go to God's grace tomorrow.

I recieved an email today from one of the blogs I subscribe to, a lady who is spending a week in Haiti with her family. As she talks about the poverty and lack which very much resembles that in my back yard, I am reminded that I am beyond previlaged. My heart is drawn back to that place where I just want to give all I have. Where I want to put this cause, at the top of the list of the reasons why I wake up every morning and not just a once in a while, on some saturdays visit. I am reminded that I am not doing this to gain any one's approval but these children, my brothers, my sisters, my children...

And hath made of one blood all nations of men
Look at them, aren't they adorable?

For about a year now, I have been a member of the Lantern Meet of Poets, we have met, not just to discuss the beauty of poetics but my eyes have been opened to my duty toward my country, my kin. My responsibility to speak up, to rise up and be counted, to stop living for me. I am not a politician, that DNA skipped my family tree but my heart has continually been stirred to the fact that my responsibility is towards my neighbour. I have learnt that I may not be able to go to parliament and change policies, make sure funds are not stolen, That may not be my place. However,there is God's grace orphanage, children, who do not just need food and clothing, they need a big sister, a best friend, an aunt and a mother. They need a voice, they need a heart that will care enough to know when one is not well. They need success cards. They need Christmas parties. They need sports days. They need family. All these little things that we so often take for granted. all this treasure at my disposal to give out.

I look at my 15000/=, which guarantees me that I will go to God's grace and back home. At the moment, it's all I have but what if I give all I have. Tomorrow I am going to God's grace orphanage, I am going to get over myself, get out of my shell and not wait to be asked for help. I am going to be the first on the line volunteering to serve porridge, wash cups, register visitors, count children, carry a baby, whatever my hands find and are given to do, I will do it whole heartedly. To love, to serve another, is what I am called to.

What if I give all I have?

Thursday, February 7, 2013


The world does look cleaner after the rain, doesn't it? A few minutes ago, it was raining heavily. It looked like a scene from one of those horror movies where people get stuck at some strange house because of a storm. Isn't it weird how we use movies to explain real life yet movies draw from life. An egg and chicken situation?
Anyway, so the rain. It was stormy; winds blowing, tall trees swaying, cars almost swerving....it was beautiful! I got wet. I ran through the rain because it found me outside. Contrary to what most people expect, it wasn't my hair that I wanted to protect, but rather my clothes. It is the middle of the day, on a week day, I am at work, I definately do not have a change of clothes. I wish I could have stayed outside.

When I was younger, these kinds of rains were my favourite. I would savour those moments right before a heavy down pour. I was a bit of a strange child, still am; I would go and walk around in the compound, face up to the sky. I would run and let the wind blow through my clothes, I had no hair for it to blow but in my mind I felt as awesome as if it had. Rain; I don't think I've ever not celebrated rain. I may wish at times for it to hold off until I've found shelter or until an outdoor event is done but I've always celebrated rain.

I have a friend. He writes beautifully but never have I seen him write more intimately than when he's writing about rain. Maybe, to him, it is more than just ice cold drops and swisshing winds. Ask him to tell you about himself and you might not get much. Read a piece of his about rain and you might just find something.

"...when it rains I picture the droplets splashing off trees leaves, grass blades and the cemented pave ways of my lawn splashing with glimmering cymbal sounds.
I Listen to the pathways that the winds blow making the rains sway, as though wind running its hands through the clouds hair.
And as I listen, deeper, I hear the silent whispers as drop cuts through air so easily as though coal on ice.
I hear some of the rain slide off the roof edge fall in a simple synchrony to the trench below where the waters twirl in a dizzying whirl of circular foamy white as though to imitate clouds from whence they came.
 I inch closer to listen and watch droplets whisper and dance to their pitter patter on earth.

Even closer I inch as drips of rain rest on my skin tickling my feet like soft feather caress..."

and when you think it's just about the rain...

"The rain. Mystery of my memory.
Why do I love your speak when your speak drenches me?
Makes my back tire with heavy soaked cloth?

Why do i cherish your cold embrace, your chilled touch, and longed for icy kiss when this is just a fleeting moment?

Is it for the fact that the icy kiss freezes my heart from feel?
The cold embrace help chase away all sense of thought?
And the chilled touch blind the eye from loves sight?

If so then rain hail upon my soul.
Send the icy cold blocks of tiny imperfection to cut through my skin and place there within the knowledge that imperfection is the beginning of perfection,
And that fruits sprout not from a stem but from the dirt.

Let the lightening strike shock my soul to life
And thunderous bellows send my fears bellow.
May the thick dark tufts of cottoned clouds shelter me from the blinding light bright ridiculing my sight!
And hide the stars that go about tainting the coal night that shelters me from the day light.

But now it drizzles, and I wish it could rain.
Deep thick sheets coming down endlessly,
Drowning out the voices so that I may be wrapped in its thick icy embrace,
Numbing my nerves with every drop…
Inch by inch
Until I am immovable like a rugged mountain."
Jason Ntaro

This, my friend is intimate with the rain and takes me back to when I was a child and just walked in the rain. Rain, mystery of my memory. Rain.