CAKE!

Louder please!

I’ve always been fascinated by cake. It’s like a primal instinct to me. A party without cake is not a party to me. Honestly, I only go to parties because of cake. It seems I was cake deficient when I was growing up.

I mean, I am the kind of person to buy my own birthday cake an eat it without telling anyone.

Cake to me is like…yeah, that one thing you can’t go without!

The story behind my fascination with cake starts when I am 3! Back then, my mother and aunties used to bake cakes. They made wedding cakes, birthday cakes and the sorts. I don’t remember them being for sale but there was cake everywhere! My mother used to get the biggest plastic basin and add butter, sugar and whip it till it turned cream before adding flour nebigenderako! My job was to lick the basin after that! Then came the best part, icing! Men oh men, I’d probably eat half of it before the mixture was done. I usually keep musing at why they stopped backing! High electricity bills and the sort is all I get as an answer from them!

None the less, cake is my achilles’ heel! You know that thing that sounds provocative, yeah, that’s cake for me!

So, when I see people sharing cake on their statuses, which is twice as many this month, I am tempted to order a cake for myself and cut it. And I think I should do that now!

CAKE! 🎂

Advertisements

Light

In lieu of the recent stories about harassment that have come out, and the campaigns Men are Trash and Me Too, it’s brought home some very crucial thoughts.

Because I was, allows me to become what I am.

I am not a saint. I’ve done some very unquestionably stupid things. And no, not heinous but very stupid.

Society has a warped sense of what dating is these days. A society that claims men have to chase, and even if the woman says no, you have to chase even harder and many times aggressively is what seems as the norm these days. And I was of the same mind-set then but now, I see light.

When I see men get offended by these two campaigns, I honestly feel saddened by the fact that they are missing the points. The argument isn’t even against them, it’s for them.

The conversation shouldn’t be centered around the women in your life but all the women. Do WE have to wait for shit to happen to those closest to us for us to actually feel the need to act? I hate to imagine that that’s the case, and it shouldn’t!

We don’t have to see the light for us to believe that there’s light. We don’t have to experience hurt for us to believe there’s hurt out there. We need to be the light. We have to be the light. And no, I don’t speak to men but women alike. We need to go out and be the light.

I read stories of hurt out there and are saddened by how inhumane we can actually get, can actually be.

Before you speak, think about what you are going to say and the impact it is going to have. When the story of the MP who was stalked and harassed came to light, I was apprehensive. The story was painted in such a way that I’d almost sided against her! He’s young! He’s just expressing his love! He should be allowed to! He actually didn’t get physical were some of the very many disgusting things people were saying. Our social conditioning is so BAD we are quick to believe what the media says.

There’s many people who’ve been hurt out there. I once felt powerless too. Emotional pain is not something you can overcome. So be the light. Take a step back. Try and wear those shoes, and see if you are truly capable of having that opinion. We don’t have to wait for tomorrow to be a light, a beacon of hope. Reach out to those who you feel need help. Reach out to those who you believe you’ve hurt. It goes a long way to know that someone feels differently about a situation you’ve been through, or are going through.

I am a light.

Be light.

Who are you?

Imagine what it actually feels like to sleep walk and be aware of it?

Do you ever feel like life sometimes feels like we are sleep walking, partially aware of the moment but never truly grasping it?

Who are we? Who am I?

I sometimes wake up to this question. I feel like I am destined for greatness, and sometimes I feel like the days are just passing by me.

Yesterday, my famsquad and I were in Wakiso for a reach out to students in the neighbouring schools. We were there to sing and lead worship, and it was a beautiful thing. Seeing people get excited and singing along to the praise and worship was indeed uplifting. And then came a mini-talent show where each school had a few of their students come onto stage and sing, rap and recite poetry. But this is not why I am writing this!

When all was done and we were catching up during lunch, we shared a few high school stories and how we were bullied. It was sad! The sermon was talking about our identity and how most times people will remember the one bad thing you did and forget all the good works you’ve ever done. But Christ doesn’t.

It is us who guilt trip ourselves into believing that our sins are imputed and will reflect on the final judgement. Our lead pastor – Paul, talked about how sin is like a stain that Christ cleansed and yet we think that we should be the ones to do that. No, we can’t. And it brought me into this space where I wondered if I could do as Christ has done.

Love my enemies. Love my detractors. Love those that have hurt me. Love those that seek to hurt me. Love those who’ve played me for a fool.

And it further pushed me to the point of reflection! Will my enemies love me? Will those I detract love me? Will those I’ve hurt love me? And those I played for a fool?

So who am I?

Many like me and my famsquad are stuck in this space trying to figure out who we are and yet trying to be better than we are yesterday! We are on a journey hoping that every stop we make along the way is an important one.

Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian much less than staying in a coup makes you a chicken!

A church is a gathering but a gathering can’t necessarily be a church!

What makes the choice of church you go to much important to you than any other space?

We can’t change people. You only meet resistance when you do that!

Those were some mental notes in yesterday’s conversation.

I wish you all a happy week, and day.

The Village

The kid danced like he had just won the best dance competition on school drama day. He twisted his feet like he had twigs for ankles. The way he jumped with no care to the drum beat was reminiscent of wind blowing through the forest! He was free. He was really free.

Today, we drove close to ninety kilometers out of town for a traditional African wedding. Like anything else, there was pomp, excitement, dancing and celebration.

There’s something about villages in Africa and tradition. Going to the village in Africa is reminiscent to going back home. Home, where the heart is. Where the rhythm and sounds of birds wake you up. The cows mooing early in the morning because they want to be milked. The grass glistening as the morning dew dries.

When I think about the village, I think about cows grazing, and the chicken running around the compound pecking the dust, and the farm dog laying lazily under the big mango tree in the compound grabbing at flies. I think about the young children roping the goats to go and graze, and hear their plans of climbing the neighbour’s guava trees. I see the young girls pick their pots and pans heading to the river to fetch water. The mothers head to the gardens and the fathers to the farm.

The village is home of the sunsets and waning hills. Of winding roads and dusty foot paths! The village is home, my home! And driving to the village, leaving civilization behind, as the houses and towns thin and the forests become greener, the breeze becomes cooler, I can’t help but get excited for the freedom.

We are truly free: the village is where we are free!

My village!