I received this poem from a friend some time back. As I went through my collections, it made more sense than it did then; very humbling. Sad, It seems I had forgotten some lines in there. So, I decided to pin it here, and share with my readers.
When the sun sets on Kigali on 19th July 2014 our dear readers, the Rotaract Club of Kigali City (RCKC) will unveil to you all a new President and a new cabinet.
Amon Bater takes oath as the third president of RCKC that evening at Accord Hotel, Kacyiru, having served an entire year as an able deputy to outgoing president Shamillah Ayebazibwe and having showed, in this past year all the qualities that he will need to launch this great club to even greater heights. RCKC will have very many presidents in future, yet upon the first team lies the greatest burden- to keep improving on past achievements.
…..previously on RCKC installations
…..previously on RCKC installations
The past year has been as great as they come and yet this coming one promises to even be bigger. Guests will be expected from Uganda, Burundi and Kenya in all three ladders…
Hilarious but we’ll thought of!
For heaven sake, this anthem sh’d be left alone!!! Some of us identify better with it. But if it really must change, I would vote for a change of flag and national emblem too; on addition to change of national food and language. 🙂 . So the country embraces change better! Oh! Uganda!!
When you study the history of Uganda as a country, you will come across a number of interesting changes and transformations that have occurred over the decades. At one point, Uganda as a country did not even exist. The land was occupied by disinterested natives who cared so little about foreigners and their motives no matter how ulterior. Migrations happened here and there, a couple of intermarriages occurred and the entire population became one big happy bowl of confusion. Over the years we have thrived in this confusion and we have embraced our identity as Ugandans. Certain values, norms and practices have become so deeply rooted that it would be unfair and unbecoming of us to attempt to change them.
Just so we are clear, this is the sweatshirt I am wearing right now
Recently I heard about a proposal to have the National Anthem changed or at least re-worked…
The 411…:Can you give us a picture of yourself? Writing My Heart Away!: Well, I am a big thinker. I maintain a positive attitude towards whatever happens in my life, despite any circumstances; by associating with uplifting and encouraging people. I like making friends,
The 411…:When did you start blogging? Writing My Heart Away!: Not very far from now…I actually started in 2012. To be specific, my first post was on February 22nd.
The 411…:Did you have any specific goal in mind when you began blogging? Writing My Heart Away!: Sure…I the initial idea was actually to write a novel (probably because I had read so many). Then with time, I realized I would probably take a long time to bring together ideas in my mind. So I…
At the beginning of this year, when I told somebody I am believing that 2014 is my year, I hadn’t foreseen anything. But right before the end of 2013, I could always anticipate something about 2014. And surely I can’t say the anticipation has gone in vain, because so much has unfolded so far.
To somebody else reading this, it may probably not make the same sense it does to me, but then again, for purposes of never ever forgetting what this moment felt like, I should keep it this close to me,I mean write it out, pin it somewhere to keep the memory. Because it surely made up a fine piece of my 2014.
At first I thought it was only going to be some time off-work, away from some routine ,but it only turned out much more than that. I didn’t have a very clear plan of how things would go, but I was only sure of one thing…this was the time for me to meet one of my mentors, lets say spiritual mentor this time. Somehow, I couldn’t help my heart beaming with excitement at the mere thought of even a second with Don Moen. God bless the Pearl of Africa for giving me all it took. Today, when I look back on that very evening, I can only but thank God for the 1st of June 2014…for letting it happen, and for making a dream pass – no wonder I couldn’t find even a few words to describe it all, until now. When a friend asked me how the show was, I only smiled..I couldn’t find the right words to explain the experience, but I hope I got a couple of them now. (trust me it wasn’t as easy).
For some reason, when having such a powerful moment like that one, I usually chose to close my eyes, but that night I was caught between two choices, to either do my usual or open my eyes wide without blinking so that I don miss any moment. It was such a hard decision to choose on one..Nevertheless, I lived in the moment; switching between them to make sure I don think it was one of those other moments that I pretend to hang with Don, simply because am listening in to the powerful lyrics while in my house. I had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, that I was actually with Don Moen on the same ground.
Today as usual, I write from my heart, but this time as a woman, a future mother, and therefore as a pillar of my country, Africa and the world in general. Picturing how much my mother labored back in the days, I can only imagine what the parents of the abducted girls go through as days go by and there’s not even a single sign of hope for them to find their daughters. It’s all heart-breaking! Whenever I think about the tragedy that befell Nigeria weeks ago, figures cease to be ‘just numbers’. At first thought, it may not ring a bell to somebody, but the reality is that 234 girls (or probably more, who knows?) were abducted from their school as they sat for a Physics exam by the Boko-Horam militants. They kill, kidnap & rape women & believe education is a sin.
They are out there in the wilderness; scared, lonely, traumatized, hungry, screaming for help, and yet their voices have gone unheard since out of ideas on how they can escape their captors…They are traumatized, they must be crying, because I can hear their voices in my head whenever I think of them. I can imagine the darkness that reigns wherever they are being kept, and I can feel their hearts race, just on the thought of how they can escape. Last night was as hard for me to catch some sleep, somehow the thought of them couldn’t allow that for a while. Unfortunately, I can’t do much about it (practically). But as I labor with the heavy heart that it leaves me with, I will use the most affordable means to make my voice heard. They are not just stolen girls, they are stolen lives, shattered dreams; they are the future of Africa, the limelight of Nigeria.
In my own handwriting, I support the campaign against the abduction. I want to believe that every single girl out there is worth some effort to rescue them.
Probably, one may think that writing about this will not offer a better solution but at least there is a single soul out there who may not know what exactly is going on or, probably that does not know how they can help out. Plus, it may probably help me out since I have no-one to directly confront about it, or at least convince about my opinion on the case. So, for now, let me stick to my escape route; let me say it loud through an article on my blog. It’s all I can do, on addition to sending in a prayer for these girls, for God to keep them safe and strong.
Back when I was still in school, we were reminded every now and then that “when you educate a man, you educate one person; but when you educate a woman, you raise a nation”. My concern here is not that Nigeria has failed to educate these girls (not like they haven’t failed though); rather, that as a country, Nigeria’s embarrassment has come out loud and clear in their failure to protect or at least to make its citizens reassured of protection; one of the assets any country would ever give to its nationals. More so, the effects of this failure have shown up when the country that it is has also failed to at least protect young girls.
It’s surprising that the US’ former President, Bill Clinton still regrets his inaction back in 1994 as Rwanda was almost swept off the world map in 1994. But because the human race probably didn’t pick enough lessons, it took a while for the international community, African Union, or even the international media to realize that the abducted girls deserved the same attention that they have always given worthless issues. The attention that the international community along with media gave recent issues like the famous Uganda’s homosexual bill and the likes leaves a lot to wonder why the same wasn’t given to the young girls. Then I suddenly remember that Nigeria doesn’t seem to have the same resources like those other countries, to probably entice their attention! God forbid! The failure of either the international community, United Nations or even the African Union to rescue these girls leaves a lot of room for someone to wonder what would actually be happening now if this same story was a reality somewhere else, and not in Africa (Nigeria) as it happens to be. Of course they have promised to help find the girls, but what if this help takes only so long?? After all, it took more than two weeks for the international media to consider it as an issue worth their attention. And it gets worse when one hears that protest leaders are now being arrested for the cause they are fighting for.
I keep wondering though if the case would be the same supposing one of these girls was a daughter of the ‘big men’ in any of the countries on the globe. But for a minute, let’s not think of who their parents are because that doesn’t matter for now. What really matters is the fact that these girls deserve a right to live, a right to come back to a warm reception by their parents, a right to be loved, and a right to belong to their families. Plus, above all else, they deserve a right to education, just like the rest of us enjoyed that.
Having said all that, I can’t stop thinking of a woman, a mother, and most of all, a mother of the nation pretending to believe that all those mothers crying themselves out day in, day out would be making up such stories, or even working with the so-called Boko Horam. This is all wrong!! They have been hurt enough already. If you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.
But because I can’t have the authority to do more than raise my voice, I will only join in the mass campaign on social media. I will make as much noise as I can about these girls, through the ‘#BringBackOurGirls’ hashtag. I will try to make sure that my voice is loud enough; it’s the best way for now I can contribute to the cause, reaching out to all authorities, all individuals, to do all possible, to secure the lives of the 234 girls. (Did I say 234? Well, it could get worse! Eight more Nigerian girls were kidnapped last evening).If I may say this again and again, what Nigeria needs right now is not financial assistance, it needs a practical solution, it needs a friend. And if all world leaders converged early enough to offer this, it wouldn’t have got this worse.But then again, its not yet too late, actually if we could have the same campaigns in all African countries before we even make noise to the international community to intervene, probably they would give issues that affect us more attention.
Hoping that it will be helpful enough. Today it’s Nigeria, tomorrow it could be another country. Who knows? Join the rest of the world to save Nigeria’s innocent souls.
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.)
Yeah, 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 oreveryone 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 to 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 not 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!
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.