Sometimes the hardest voice to hear is “The one within”.

If anything is to ever hit you so hard (if it must) so you keep it in good memory, it is the moment you finally realise (d) that the only person whose opinion you have to mind about is YOU! I can’t count how many articles I have written but they eventually ended up in my “Not to Be Published” box. To give you a picture, I even coded this box so that whenever I think of publishing any of these articles, I instead think of the reason it’s coded. (Don’t laugh; they are called “tools of self-control”)….​of course according to my own edition.

I didn’t do this because I never consider the time and effort it costs me, NO! I always put this in mind. It was only because I had kept in good custody a particular voice that occasionally reminded me that what I write is not close to attractive  for their eyes. (They would never be bold enough to say it, but I heard it right whenever they said they don’t believe in writing. )
​Because of that constant voice, in the following years, months, and days, I lived through the same events, writing and immediately saving them under my coded  box. Each morning as I attempted to come up with an article and actually publish it became more terrifying than the previous one.

But if you are currently reading this, then its evidence enough that I surpassed that voice. (Thanks to the tiny still voice, and the article from one, Eric,  I read this morning that gave me a helpful insight for the day).. And if you think just like that same voice, then you could once again be hereby accident.
​ ​
Why am I even talking about this? But I probably should, for future purposes, or maybe for my daily inspiration through life. I try to pick a lesson from everything that happens in my life,I usually I think they all happen for a reason.
​And one thing I know for sure is that is that I learnt something important; to celebrate what I am and have become without necessarily seeking ‘unnecessary’ approval, the same spirit that I would like to share with my readers.

For so many years, I held on for so long, on what people say or think of what I do, how I do it, and why I do it. But guess what? I don’t give a care anymore, I pledged to give this a try, hoping that  it will be worth it. I want to do things for quite some time, without consulting the east, or even the west, not caring if somebody has been hurt in the process or how many I have pleased. (Of course I do mind what hurts people, but for once, lets concentrate on what I am talking about here.)

​ Y​eah, I know, it gets mean some times. But you see, at the end of the day, everyone ought to realize that there comes a point in life when they should neglect all the voices that come from the outside, set your own rhythm and dance along that. After all, nobody will give a damn, though they might just eventually like the result. So the focus here is actually on the tiny voice that is in most cases covered up by the roaring negative voices, and that’s where the secret lies!

Of course at the start you will have a stone or two throw at you, probably judging you, blaming you or​everyone else claiming for their usual ‘selfish’ interests. But just one thing; grab it by your two, step on it, and move on! We all have  moments when such happens in life, but at the end of it all, the only person you will have ​t​o focus on is YOU!

It’s you that will appreciate your efforts, pat your back at the end of the day and say, “Nice try! But to make things better, you don’t have to go that way again”. Remember we were not put in this world to please everyone (not like we can afford the costs anyway). So in the event that you have tried, given it your best, even prayed but situations haven’t changed a bit, SHIFT! Move your focus to something else, and if you can’t find that, at least move it (the focus) to somebody else. That somebody is YOU!

Listen to your heart, and let everyone else listen to theirs too, the tiny voice that comes from within should be the one to keep you going when all else fails. If you don’t do this, at least don’t blame anyone, because as you went through the process of pleasing them all, it was you that failed yourself, not them. They have their own role to play, messing up with whatever you lay your hands on, interrupting whatever you have tried to achieve. they make it a point to focus on your life and how you living it to make sure they identify a fault and use that to ​downplay your own progress, of course, again to their own interests. And they are doing that pretty well; that way they are busy pleasing themselves, so you don’t have to go that way too.

These same people have often misled others even when they are aware there’s no​​t even a light at the end of that tunnel, not because that’s the only available option. But because their attitude towards life is simply that low; messing with others’ affairs.

And remember this, it’s not because their own life is perfect! No, not even close! I call them ‘diminishers!’  No matter how good you are to them, they will still find fault with you; they will still find some reason to  be critical. They derive their happiness from messing up your life meeting their own targets. That’s why I let go of these, along with those who always make it a point to frustrate everything I do, they don’t build, neither do they encourage. And the only mirror they use to look at life is the one which best reflects their interests. So, for once in life, mute their voices in your head, and give way to the tiny voices that has brought you that far.Otherwise, if you let the other voices out-power it, things may simply backfire just like they always have. Just shake it off, be happy and run your race.

After all, there is only little point in trying to play good to EVERYONE!

 

 

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We’re all mad

wow! Nice reminder here!

Cristian Mihai

mad“Have I gone mad?”
“I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”

Even though most of the times you don’t feel like your’re mad, you feel different. It happens to all of us. Sometimes we feel like there’s an invisible wall between us and the rest of the world. We feel alone, we feel different, we feel as though we’re not good enough. And it’s difficult to accept this. Most of the times, people simply try to find comfort: in their art, in another person, in aimlessly wandering through life.

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The Hills are Alive…With the Sound of Love.

 

 It’s a Friday late evening, Laura is returning from work, the sun is graciously setting, and leaving behind it gold rays that light up the whole place.

Time check, its 1700 hours. Laura can’t help herself but keep thinking about the new guy she met today over lunch, and humming that song that they both loved; it seems to say it all for the life the two of them have shared. She doesn’t seem to give the rest of the world a care as she is completely taken up with the thoughts running through her head. But anyone can tell it must be a series of good thoughts.

As she passes by the old man who usually sits at the road side waiting for the mercy of passers-by that will care enough to drop a coin or two for him, he can’t avoid noticing the wide smile on Laura’s face. She has always used the same street back home, ever since her former boyfriend who used to drop her off before he could wait and watch her fade off in her house that is only a few yards away from the main road.

The old man seems to notice all this with a look of sympathy, but again with a little smile that brings out the hope that he has in life. Laura is a young lady that seems to have had her life in one place, even if some circumstances have not been in her favor. At least she got the potential to simply brush it off, keep in good shape, and enjoy the moments life has offered as they last.

At the back of her mind, thoughts of the new kid on the block (the new guy she met that afternoon) can’t stop racing.

Larry, today left work earlier than usual, his car broke down so he had to take the public bus. Probably this is what we shall call fate. (Or the meeting point, I mean like in the movies :D)  As he moves on, not seeming to give a care to the world, he meets a gorgeous young lady smiling her way home. She looks quite familiar, the last time the two met was at the movies with a couple of friends, but he didn’t dare say a word then. But since fate has offered a second chance of meeting her, Larry can only be grateful. With quite  an effort to bring out the words, he manages to pop a request for a date  to Laura  but just as he thought, she doesn’t look like she is even about to even give it a second thought. She seems too reserved, unless he is willing to try again.

When they eventually meet for dinner downtown, she has on her little favorite polka dress with her hair neatly tied in a loose bundle at the back. She still can’t stop smiling. Laura, riding his flying pigeon (read bicycle), one he bought the other day so he can be able to take a good view of the dangling hills near her neighborhood.  to him, they are always full of love. And it actually does him much help…by the time they sit at the little table in the cafeteria a few meters from Laura’s home, he has lost as much stress as he had gained earlier at work. They wine and dine, laugh and talk, whispering to each other every now and then, and making endless promises.

The two look so lost in the moment as they share a moment that is only too real for now. But none of them happens to realize that this could be the determining moment, the only moment to make a memory, the only moment to for him to look back to with her…

The best thing that ever happened to Larry is ever having met her, but not that he dragged his feet on letting out his intentions, taking chances, counting on tomorrow. But he has no choice, that very night was the last for Laura. It was a normal evening, only this time she seemed to feel contented, that she had got all it takes. When she went to bed that night, she didn’t fight, she didn’t scream, she did it peacefully. She took a deep breath…and let go. She let go of a life that had only seemed unfair right from the onset, but yet a life she had tried to visualize only the moments that brought back a second of her life back, moments that could give her reason to face yet another day.Larry’s heart skipped. He couldn’t take it. In Laura, he saw a new hope, a special kind of strength, in her eyes, a glowing joy. But Laura left something for him, a small handwritten note, dated three days before the fateful one. Thank God she said something, as small as it was; it meant the world to him.

Engraved in the note was the message, “In you, I saw a new life, one that I had always searched for. Unfortunately, it was a lil too late…I just couldn’t carry on. Been battling a cancer since I was 18. As I go home, hope you don’t hold back anything, Give life your all. Take one day at a time, looking forward to another”.  Love Laura.” (124)

 

When he showed up for her last funeral rites, he read out the note loud, shared their story. But he broke down to the thought of the fact it that the only last chance. He didn’t have the chance to be here, he didn’t have the chance to hold her, or even to assure her it would be ok. She fought a strong fight, she gave in her all.

This was a painful turning point in his life…and the words, in her own voice still echo in his mind. for the moment, Laura meant everything he ever needed, and she was no-more now. But from her, he got a new beginning…a new faith that kept life moving, and with it, moments that brought back life. And whenever he gets the chance to pass by the hills, he can’t do more than thank God for having let him take that way that day, for in those hills, the memory of Laura lives on.

Flying pigeon
Flying pigeon

After little Bella’s death, should we rethink the death penalty?

Frankly, lil Bella’s is one of those cases that make want to support the death penalty in Rwanda too. Ofcourse keeping other factors constant.

Sunny Ntayombya

The gruesome death of 12-year old Bella Isimbi Uwase by the hand of her alleged killer Slyveri Mahoro cut me to the core.

Bella's family and friends at her funeral wake Bella’s family and friends at her funeral wake

First of all, was the fact that such an innocent child, with her future in front of her, was snatched away from her doting family in such a cruel, cruel way. The manner of her death, by knife wound to the neck, was horrible and excruciatingly slow.

Secondly, her absolute victimhood touched my heart. Often when there is a murder, at least one try’s to make sense of it; yes there is a victim but at least you have a ‘proper’ motive. You rationalize the act by saying that the perpetrator was acting in a skewed but logical way. But in this case there is no logic. She never did anything to him and, if the stories we’ve heard…

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