I’m Still 20-something Years Old!

There’s a speech people normally give/write before, during or after their birthdays.

This is the one. After.

Birthdays used to be a time to live and laugh with family and friends. The only thing that overwhelmed you was the love and awkward hugs. Now at a time as this, birthdays are the days when the internet does the overwhelming. The vibrations won’t stop, the notifications are raging with a fury for days, you just might take your phone swimming. But then you remember the economy and decide against it.

You even come back to respond to the HBDs after 3 days because it feels like that email you have waited for a year; it has come, and now you have to wait 3 days to stabilise your palpitations for yays or nays before you read it. Your heart’s basically on a trampoline, and you have to divide attention between the mu device, and the real issues in the world right now. Like poor education and hunger.

Well, The birthday situation isn’t THAT dramatic. But the notifications are overwhelming. And in a good way too.

Iss all goooood in this life *cues in music 🎶 Photo by Ninno Jack Jr.

Everyone is really good to you, you can’t believe those magical words are about you. At some point you go like staahhpp. Not in modesty, but like…”you have lied, my guy 😂 😂”. Enough not to let them off, because… when else will you get complimented at 200%?

It was a rather bittersweet day for me. I shall save you the details, but I did some pretty interesting things like the once in a lifetime opportunity to pop a whole boiled egg into my mouth, and just working it all out in one go. It is the best feeling in the world. Also because I couldn’t remember the last time I ate a boiled egg. You need to try it. Everyone should. I don’t care what you say in my comment section, but as long as you love eggs or just eat them, you will still go and try this in discretion. Remember to tell me your experience after that. For follow up. It’s about that age where every little success is recorded.

Hola mi amigos! I’m 20 something and no one’s counting! 😉 Photo by @mudo_eve

But in short, I came to say thank you so much for the beautiful wishes of life and health. I say Amen to that. To thank Ninno and Jessica Layado for being real embodiments of God’s love. Hi Faith Liam, for like the finest coincidence of this universe. Also, there’s more to life. While you’re in the wilderness, you can still smile, jump and do that baddd move all in one go, and suddenly everyone forgets you’re in the middle of nowhere and at the near end of your road. See how hope is seemingly to the rest of the world but yourself? That right there, is living; and when you live, you hope. Errbody wins! God still reigns!

Smile. Jump. Pose. Photo by Ninno Jack Jr.
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You Are Worthy

First March words! Yey! Finally got to pen something. Go check out Clay Dance Co, people!

claydanceco

Hola Amigos!

Easter is here!

It is at such a time as this when we also take the moment as a dance ministry to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus through energetic movement! I must add that this is a great opportunity and always an honour to be part of something bigger and it goes without saying, that we take this time to remind each other of God’s ultimate gift to us; His son, to encourage us to reflect the season with even more giving than we already have through the year.

The week of Easter is Passion/Revival week at Watoto Church, importantly to have the opportunity to share in fellowship as a church in remembrance of the sacrifice that was made for us in exchange for our lives. A time in which we pray that we can stay or come back to the first love we had. A time…

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Bittersweet

It’s weird.

I try to be low key

Keep my new excitements at bay

But it doesn’t make any sense either

Because, isn’t he better off?!

But we are not. I am not.

It’s bitter sweet.

But mostly bitter.

In this course of life since Tuesday,

I find myself thinking,

What he would do/think in my position

I pretty much try to emulate him.

If I don’t, I feel like such a waste…

…Of friendship.

And now, without him,

Even the Internet is different.

It is sadder, meaner, and less sane.

I’m sorry I keep writing about him. And reading his eulogies.

Nev, I thank you for your well of life i drew from. ❤

Yours,

Me. Again.

Vis ses senere. ✌

Mine, of Nev.

I knew that he was dealing with things greater than he fathomed, so last year I purposed to lose the Internet and be more present in person. It was a super disturbing feeling that wouldn’t let me rest. Friendship must make count in more ways than one, no?
I remember going to visit him the next time with (of course) my 1000 troubles he was expecting to doctor through like always over the texts.

I sat on the chair by his bed from which he painfully sat up, and when he thought he’d sat comfortably enough to afford a smile, I thought… “who am I fooling? How dare I even start my ma things?”
I swerved him off my complaints. We talked about him.. His work. His next Ebifaananyi book review. About the kabaka run rant, and boy did he rant allover again! I listened like I had no extra chance tomorrow. I had none actually. It would be the occasional check ins.

Hours later, I was starting to want to leave, and another visitor was arriving. I thought that was relieving, as part of that conversation had no chance of ever being about me. I had my own dam ready to burst but I was never going to let that selfishness happen again. Not in that environment atleast…a place that clearly reminded you that Joel too had mountains.

I thanked him, again, for while we know him for the literary arts champion he was, I also know, MOSTLY, ABOVE EVERYTHING, that he unashamedly preached Salvation.
Losing one’s life to hide it in Christ. That losing one’s life would be their own gain.

I saw him in that brown box, the one he said they’d carry him in…or really the one we’ll all be eventually carried in. His face was frowned, and I thought, does his pain never end?! And then I reminded myself that it was his mortal clothing anyhow; he’d left it, and it didn’t matter anymore. He was now wearing an everlasting one. The one he couldn’t wait to wear in glory with our Lord!

He’s just been lowered to the ground. Now if I wasn’t Christian, now would be the time to know that Jesus, bestie he stood for so mightily. Because there’s people you’ve just got to see in the next life. People like Joel Benjamin Nevender.

But I am a Christian and friend he encouraged (like a million others) and had the privilege of knowing even just a bit. I will most definitely hang out with him in due time. In the meantime, I will rejoice now and my hope shall not run dry.

Thanks Nev.
1Col 3:3

No One Asks For It.

Here’s my short note. #MeToo

I went to work today (i wrote this on Friday). My work station really is basically in the field, with people pretty much all ages; babies in class, to the old man sitting in his administrative office. My basic dress code is just that. Basic. You will occasionally find me wearing a t-shirt or a blouse that’s usually loose fitting, and jeans, usually loose fitting as well, save for some rare instances. I am talking about my clothing because a lot of people attribute sexual harassment to dress code.

This particular male teacher whose program I really had to interrupt because i am permanently scheduled, kept going on about how he “appreciates” my smartness. He said it almost 50 times, much to the bemusement of an older female teacher. The tone with which he used, is what got me frowning rather than taking the compliment. He also kept on referring to me as “ka girl” regardless of the fact that we could be the same age. I low-key did not feel respected but i let it slide.

“i have appreciated the ka girl. I have appreciated her smartness, this ka girl” (repeat 10 times)

Now i am not being modest. There’s nothing on me that made me specially “smart”. Some teachers looked nicer than me. I was only wearing some kind of lipstick(although it’s a dull colour) that stood me out from the teachers around me.

I’m just saying the guy was weirdly overreaching with his compliments. I’m also just saying that if I wasn’t amidst other teachers, and by myself, he probably could have said weird(er) things that I’d have lashed out back at him before taking the matter to his head teacher. I know it because I can tell. I mean, the other day a person who met me once, that I’m supervising, just started to call me baby like he was entitled, so he could have his way. I went up in flames.

NO ONE

Sexual harassment is as real as it gets. Forget the downtown groping, that’s another one…it’s worse that in the places we think we’re “supposed” to feel safe, it’s done in the most subtle ways that leave you holding your shoulders in, with discomfort. We now have to look out for ourselves EVERYWHERE we are, and happen to go.

I’m just saying we ALL have a story.

I’m sure these things happen to men too. And i guess it’s harder for them to come out. I just want to say that regardless of what’s going on, as we keep our guards up to stand up for ourselves, we can be each other’s strength. People that have been through worse, been violated, been robbed of innocence, could use your shoulders and ears.

Listen to, love, and protect your neighbour. 

Yours,

Diamante.

Guest Post: Thoughts of Sunshine

Well, i am a little tooooo late for #NationalPoetryDay but i still couldn’t let this one pass.

This here is a completely cool friend of mine who decides to beautifully pen a brief poem. Once upon a time he published them on the world wide web, but not anymore. Apparently he grew up. Hahaha. I wonder where that leaves the rest of us!

Ladies and gentlemen, i present to you my first guest post(er),  John Wafula. 

Sunshine.
That’s the picture painted when the windows open, this morning.

Moaning, sounds of the moment pleasure-yawning when sun is dawning,

Daunting, thoughts run up and down on tracks of ponder, in wander;

I wonder, how you are this morning with your glory eyes, shining like the sun.

Sunshine,
That’s the picture you are when your eyes open, this moment.

Photo: nothingtowhere.wordpress.com

My little friends in Kibuli – #Dream4040 

Maybe one day, very soon, i will share a bigger story, but today, this is my short one;
I grew up in a peri-urban environment. Every adult,including mine, was on a quest for survival. Every child, including myself, was looking up to the adult, hoping for a better childhood. A better life. 

It didn’t turn out so bad for myself. I have ordinary humans to thank for that. Humans who wouldn’t have cared less! 

But most of all. God. 

4000 children in the slums of Kibuli have the chance to have what i did not have. I have seen them, known them, and they need this more than I did then. We can be the ordinary humans who couldn’t have cared, but we did. We took the matter into our own hands and brought hope to our learned, innovative and exceptional friends in the future. 

With your help,  40 Days Over 40 Smiles Foundation will build a Learning Centre in Kibuli, a Kampala city suburb, providing free access to books, computers and a space for skills development for in and out-of-school children living in the slum.

We can give 4000 children, 4000 stories to tell today and tomorrow.

Click here  to learn more and donate! We have 9 days left to do this. 🙏