Mother’s Day is nothing without Mother Mary

Mama

So its mother’s day! Yes a mother is a very important Person.
I have seen quite a number of posts on social media about how wonderful everyone’s mother is, I haven’t posted to that effect though.
My mother passed on almost 11plus years ago, leaving a very huge gap in the family but with a Gallant Soldier (my Dad) who with all brevity stood to take us on, running all roles mother would have run.
I will never forget though about the activities preceding my mother’s death.
On a dull Saturday Valentines day morning in 2004, my then aging Papa and I sat in the sitting room, almost hopeless, my dad was washing my bedridden mother’s clothes that I would later take to Mulago hospital where mom had been admitted and lay in coma.
A group of Christians from our church came in that morning to pray with us for mother’s quick recovery and this lady, in agreement with my dad revolved the prayer around Mother Mary the help of the Sick.
She sang a Song many Catholics would be conversant with, “Tukulamusiza Nyaffe owekisa” and there in is a part that goes like “Abanakuwadde wamu nabalwadde obajjukiranga nobakubagiza” Those words spoke to me. Yes the spoke to me! And During the prayer the leader invoked mother Mary to come and mother our family that was without a mother.
It had always been a habit at home that the radio nob  got stuck in 103.7 Radio Maria the ‘Christian Voice in your home’, we time and again (even if some of us did not really care) treated our ears to numerous prayers casted by the waves of the Mother Mary station….the Rosaries…and my father continously reminded us of how the greatest mother let alone intercessor one could ever have is Mother Mary, the mother of Jesus so from that day on , we would take Mother Mary as mother while mom was away. I for one had known mother mary for a mother as a child but I never felt her closer to me before the way she was going to be this time round.
That same Valentines night, 2004, we were woken upto the bad news of mom’s passing. The news that tore our hearts apart and left even the strongest of us frail.
Papa, with a confused loom put his hands on his head and said “It was Saturday last week, today is also Saturday, Oh God!” Our brother had just passed on the previous Saturday and had been buried during the course of the week. In fact, my mother’s condition had worsened when she received the news of her son’s untimely death.

It was a moment of panic, like wax we melted, but had to look forward. I was only 15, young and Naive but had taken on mother’s roles at home of cooking for her grandchildren and Papa, I had kind of grown so good at it, but I missed mother because her food was incomparable, her tactics in making us happy were unmatched but now she was gone. Yes she was gone!
I asked God why, yet I couldn’t find a ready answer, I had last seen mom a few hours ago at her death bed and she could barely speak to me, my big sister had pulled me aside and hopelessly whispered “Mother is going to die” but I did not despair as a priest had just anointed her with oil in the sacrament of Life ‘anointing of the sick’ I was brave that she would see the new day alive and smiling.
I had witnessed tears rolling down mother’s cheek and I remembered her words someday as she nursed my dying cousin’s wife “when a mother sheds tears at such a point when she cannot speak, she is grieving for her children she is leaving behind”
It was that moment, I knew mother was grieving for us, yet I could not lose hope.
I was a liar. Mother was gone.
The unbearable pains  continued with only one consolation though – we had been adopted by a new mother who had watched over us always even when mom was alive. Mother Mary was now the woman I had to tell all my secrets, the woman whose mantle I had to hide into when times get tough.
Papa always reassured me of mother Mary’s presence as as a mother. Everytime he visited me at school, he reminded  me to always talk to my mother and at numerous visits left with me a Rosary.
The one time I can never forget is when I was going to sit for my Senior 4 exams, while parents showered their kids with success cards and so on, Papa gave me a Rosary and reminded me still to go with Mother Mary into the papers. I must have thought that guy was crazy then, but today that craziness is the reason for my success.
When I was going for my job interview, I told papa about it and he simply told me ‘go tell your mother about it’ I remembered and rushed out to Mother Mary’s Grotto at Church and placed all my papers at her feet and my prayer was “Papa has said I should come and tell you…..”
I got the highly competitive slot.
Mother Mary, I learnt was mummy and I had to run to her in whatever situation. Today I call her mother and tell to her whatever I would have told my biological mother. Yes I miss my mother but I have a Jesus’ Mother. Who wouldn’t be proud to be Jesus’ Sister?
Happy Mother’s Day.

The Little Ethiopian Angel

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Bright and beautiful,

Wrapped in a long cream dress,

Strapped with gold finishings

Complimenting her little curves

Oh! the Little Ethiopian Angel

Corn rows run through her head

Like little meandering routes through a tropical forest

Her little eyes focusing on her little fingers

Her Little fingers banging her little African Drum

Oh! the little Ethiopian Angel

Every thing about her is little and beautiful

Her little glory shaped eyes,

Her little humble nose

Her little kiss spilling lips

Oh! You little Ethiopian Angel

Looking at her drives my soul crazy

Awakens the African Spirit in me

I want to hug her the African way

I want to add her to the list of my favourites

Oh! the little African Angel

I Love you Mother Africa

I love your fruits

Nothing beats you mama Africa

Long live Mama, Long live Africa.

Kissing his Shadow

Have you ever kissed a shadow

The shadow of the one you love

The one you love but have never met

Never heard, never held, never felt.

 

Head is buried in palms

Mind in deep contemplation

Imagination swaying in the air

I can see him, I can hold him, I can feel him.

 

Caressing his shadow

Feeling the great works of an artist

Fingers appreciating a craftsman’s work

Feeling each bit of his curves.

 

A Feeling I cannot explain

Happens in a world deeper than I know

Only with eyes closed

Not a dream though

 

I tremble yet I smile

I sing yet I drop a tear

What could this be?

Someone tell me…

Have you ever?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Its been Nine Months

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When I say nine months, first thing in many of your minds is Pregnancy. Yes and no!

Last May I conceived, I was however not sure if it was a boy or a girl but I was sure it would be Joy at the end of the nine-months long journey.

In fact, my belly has for this time through beamed with joy, notwithstanding a few aches here and there.

Now, with only two days to deliver my long awaited baby I am joyful still, but sad too.

One, I am happy because I have successfully come to the end of my gestation period but also sad because I will miss the goodies that happened to me while the pregnancy lasted.

It was just yesterday, I can still smell the mood when I traveled to Nairobi to meet a delegation of fellow young journalists from around East Africa, to put together brains for career enhancement.

I can still remember how I met beautiful and handsome young wits whose names am compelled to mention because of they have been a significant lot in my journey hence this far.

In no order of preference, Wahida, Beryl, Mercy, Silvia, Goodluck, Robert, Laillah, Sharon, Athuman, Emmanuel, Mbashiru, Ingrid, Wisdom, Warothe, Peter, Daria, Kennedy and of course Olive.

Our people have been the best brothers and sisters I ever met besides my biological ones. I cannot but be grateful to my other Kenyan family members Maurice, Charity, Alex, Joy, Joseph, Prosper, Issa, Tom, Ray, and Sam who have been there for me.

But of course how can I forget my other buddies Kevins, Griffinz, Quest and Watson, you made me feel at home guys.

It’s surprising how time flies it has been fair yet unfair to me. It feels like I am waking up from a dream that has gone on for this entire while.

It is been a long yet short time, a time to bond with people who have been totally supportive and been there for me in all situations, while I smiled and while I frowned.

A great nine months of learning to deal with egos and temperaments from all walks of life,  but above all a time to climb to greater heights.

If there is something to regret in life, it can never be the walk I took nine months ago. I agree it has had its tough times but I have been able to overcome them with patience and persistence.

Besides, the tough times that there was, were always overcome by the Joy that the people around me gave.

At the end of the day now that there has been no abortion, I can attest to the sweetness of the fruits of this period- they are incredibly honeyed.

My pregnancy is now ripe, like a woman in labour I cry with pains of missing people who have become part of my life for this long, but grinning with excitement knowing that this is just the beginning of another level in life.

The programme has been one of the greatest achievements I will forever boast about, a chance to challenge and be challenged, to learn stuff beyond my understanding and to widen the scope of my knowledge.

It has been hard work but fun too.

All ye good people, there is only one thing, Go, Go and Go, fear no evil and road blocks, you have got all that it takes to shake the world and make it a better place.

God be with you till we meet again.

With Love Uwitware.

 

Ladies: Why you shouldn’t attack your ‘co-girlfriend’

I have heard it being said that everybody fights with his or her own tool.

A farmer if attacked will fight with a hoe, a doctor will use his injection to fight against an enemy, and a teacher will throw chalk at you or probably whip you.

And behold a scribe will use their pen to nullify a battle.

Let the scribe do this.

Less than 24 hours ago I received a very tough message from my close friend’s girlfriend. She claims I have done her relationship injustice by having feelings for her man and failing to arrest my emotions.

Fair enough, everyone has feelings and emotions, so it’s not an out of this world experience. She threatened how she has she all the necessary information to show that I have a crush on her man, and she could pass it to my boyfriend.  She forgot one thing, that what if her man also has a crush on me?

An unanswered question there!

This has not been the first time such a thing is happening, I have never gotten upset as much because of the manner in which this girl handled this was typical of a trivial woman.

I have not been confronted by a ‘sane’ woman in such a manner; it has only been the insane for as far as I care.

In the deepest of understanding, there has not been any substantial reason why a woman should attack her alleged ‘threat’. You just need to settle your shit between you and your boyfriend.

Attacking your rival only reveals the insecurity surrounding you in your relationship. Hey mama! real and sane ladies once faced with such situations sit their partners and express their grievances.

It should never cross over to the lady rival otherwise it just shows how less a woman you are.

If you always attack your women rivals, it means that you are either gluing yourself to this man or you do not feel good enough for him. There are esteem issues here.

Here are some of the areas you need to check

If your man really loves you, he is willing to listen to you, that in an event that he accepts there is problem, he will apologise.

Men get disgusted with women who have low self-esteem. When you take it to the other level, you make the man seem like he cannot do his roles, basically you make him feel incapable.

If he loves you so much, you don’t need to care about the other women; if they are being the problem then trust for the love you have he can handle everything.

Real women do not stalk their boyfriend’s phones to dig for what they can’t bury again, real women trust their partners whatsoever the fears are and real women do not express how insecure they are.

Trust your man to solve everything.

Views expressed here are not only because am involved in this, as a matter of fact, am trying to help someone handle her relationship.

Your Love is my new song

love

 

I feel like composing a song for you

I feel like crafting a poem for you

I feel like creating a page for you

Just to tell the whole world that I love you

 

My fantasies will no longer dwell on the unknown

Because my heart has now found its lost treasure

A pearl it has searched for since it was created

I feel like telling the whole world that I love you

 

Your love woke me up from a dream

A dream that had gone on for eternity

Your love snatched me from my illusions

I feel like telling the whole world that I love you

 

It is no longer a fantasy to love you

It is not even a feeling anymore

It has now become an open secret

Am telling the whole world that I love you

 

You have set my heart to dance

Dancing for the love of my life

You have made my lips a chatter box

Just to let the whole world know I love you

 

I will now rise every morning

With love in my heart

With total satisfaction in my soul

Because I know someone cares

And hence am telling the world am in Love

 

I love you, I love you, I love you

This is my new song

This is my new Poem

And it is the name to my new page

 

 

That Woman, My Saint

Mother’s love

I miss those days

When a woman cuddled me close to her heart

When that same woman tied me on her back

When she covered me in the embrace of her chest

When she sang me the sweetest lullaby ever

When she stayed awake for me to sleep peacefully

I miss those days

When I  abruptly woke up and she was there to pamper me back to sleep.

When I dropped a tear and behold her hand immediately wiped it away

When I craved something and it was there right before me

When I called out and a voice readily came to my help

When a tap on the back was the in thing for me

I miss those days

When the heavens opened thus the rains

When they poured and I danced in them

When hailstones fell and I ate them as ice

When that woman spanked me for doing this

Yet when thunder roared and I went hiding within her skirts

I miss those days

When my only name was beautiful

When only my family had the prettiest daughters

 When the woman’s only pride lay in the beauty of her children

When living home was like walking in a park of roses

I miss those days when that woman was my Mother.