My Present-day playlist

Loving it

•  Kyokoba – Maro ft GNL
• Equation – Desire
• Anjagala - Iryn
• Woman - Juliana
• Pomini - Ziza Bafana 
• Guluma nasomye - Ziza Bafana
• Kigwa Leero - HE Bobi ft Nubian 
• Love you everyday - Bebe Cool
• Friendly match - Zanie ft Ziza 
• Gundeeze - King Saha
• Tetubatya - Apass
•  Nva Kampala - Apass
• Bakuwe kyonywa - Nutty Neithan

......the list is endless.

I’ve always been partial to western music; particularly Old-school; hence my typical playlist comprised the likes of Dr.Dre, Mclyte, Naughty by Nature, Luniz, Outkast, Tupac, Arrested Development, et al.

It was habitual for me to listen to these jams recurrently regardless of my frame of mind, activity or place i.e. whether euphoric, downcast; at home, office; jogging, driving or going on about my chores, my stereo was always blazing with hits such as you could be my boo, 5 o’clock, 5 on it, Keep on keeping on, Jamboree, Everyday people, et al. 

Never had I taken notice of any other genre of music in spite of the countless times a supposedly fine contemporary record has been commended. I’ve been such a stick in the mud owing to the fact that old-school always sorted my music needs. 

However, I recently honed in on and was bowled over by my native music; songs until a week ago, I only heard by fortuity; at night spots, functions and chiefly from our Sentinel’s phone selection. He has this kind of music playing throughout the night while on guard. Consequently, being an insomniac, it is commonplace that I get to listen in.

It’s no wonder that while at K Palm Resort Island over the weekend, I grooved to Nkoleki by Dr. Jose Chameleon and Melody; a move that left my friends awed because for one, they had never seen me dance; ever. I am overly timid and usually a head bob is all I can afford regardless of how much I “feel the beats". What's more, they are well aware of my “old-schoolmania”. Hence boogieing to a local sound was a bolt from the blue. 

*Oh, to go off on a tangent a little, I had imbibed a bottle and half of Smirnoff Red ice; comprehensible, right? Considering I’ve been a teetotaler for the most part of my youth*

Reverting to the crux of this piece, I got to download over 50 HiPipo tracks; Ugandan songs that have made it big; leastways as claimed by the aforementioned awards and I must confess, we have some really great talent in the Pearl of Africa. 

The ladies; Iryn, Juliana, Irene Ntale, Rema, Desire, Naira Ali, Naava Grey and guys; Maro, Maurice Kirya, et al make for an impressive listen. It goes without saying that these are great vocalists and their melodies enkindle warm fuzzies. 

Our hip hop and rap referred to as Uga flow is amazing too. I can’t get enough of MUN-G, GNL, Apass, Lyrical G and Navio. These guys are awesome lyricists. 

The dance hall artists, viz., King Saha, Ziza Bafana, Sheeba and Cindy among others have had me try out rib-tickling dance moves; so funny that I only dare to bid in my sanctuary; my abode, in front of my mirror. Such a sight to behold! 

This has doubled as some kind of workout for whenever I’m not up to jogging and skipping as recommended by my Doctor. I merely have to put this playlist on replay and weird-dance my sorrows and aches away. 

A colleague tried to throw cold water on my recent inclination saying “Ugandan music has no novelty; our hip hop has gone to the dogs and artists are in it for the money”.

Well, I am no critic; merely an “if it’s groovy, it rocks” kind of girl and hence loving my roots’ playlist thus far; so much so that my vintage collection is currently tucked away.

Nonetheless, old-school will always be my first and authentic love. When it’s all said and done, the first cut is the deepest, they say.

Life; Oh Life!

Pondering my next move

It is habitual for me to inspect my facebook news feed the second I log on to my laptop at office; for it is my source for updates on current affairs about my country and the world over; seeing as I don’t watch TV much lately. Matter of fact, I haven’t subscribed for the basic bouquet of my decoder in over 8 months now.

This sunup however got me all emotional and probing my sanity a great deal; the first story I saw is entirely culpable. It was a post by one of the guys (Username Kojo) I zealously follow on this particular social networking website; for his posts kick-start my days owing to the fact that they are humorous and mostly insightful. Only this time, his status was heartrending. 

There on his wall was a photo of a lad with a caption “Gone too soon”. I’ve seen several posts akin to this on social media before, certainly; and yes; death is an invariable life reality. However, something about this picture fascinated me that I had to check out who the young fallen guy was.

“Respond to friend request” are the words that hit me on giving his wall a once-over. Shrekeezy Mhh had sent me a friend request I never got to confirm. And now he’s gone! 

What I learned in a simple mouse click left me broken, so much so that I had to steal a moment in the office privy to sob all the overwhelming emotions out.

Why so moved? That would be the sixty-four dollar question. When it’s all said and done, he was merely but a stranger on facebook; you may say and or think.  

Well, bereavement for one always gets me in a dire place; disoriented and overly downcast, naturally; particularly when it claims someone in his salad days; a youthful man such as Shrekeezy in the prime of his life. What’s more, we could have been friends. Nevertheless, I’ll never know, given that I tuned him out. Perchance if I hadn’t disregarded his friend request, I would have gotten to know him a tad ahead of the cruel claws of death. For a jiffy I contemplated confirming it; if only to peruse through his Timeline and get a peek at his life through the "eyes of Zuckerberg". I subconsciously surmised that it would somehow vindicate me and abate the remorse I harbor, and perhaps consequently venerate him. 

By the same token, I've been on a roller coaster of emotions for a while now; the whole ball of wax seems so damn bleak. I cry just about anything lately. I'm almost certain that you would ridicule me in the event that I shared half of the stuff I've shed a tear or two for in the recent past. A good case in point would be this little tale below;

See, there used to be an elderly man in my locality who was always by the beautiful gate of his residence whenever I passed by enroute to my place after work. He always smiled and waved to me with so much affection in his eyes that I got accustomed. It deeply warmed my heart; so much so that I always anticipated dusk for my daily smile and wave from my sweet old stranger by the road. 

The other day however, my friend was not at his usual spot when I drove by. I reckoned it was by virtue of the fact that I left work a tad earlier. Thus I pinned my hopes on seeing him the next day; I was yet to learn though that that was an ice cube's chance in hell. Five days without seeing that gentle grizzled smiley soul waving at me got me in a frenzy of despair. I wept in dread of the worst. Questions like could he have taken seriously ill? or had he passed on? racked my brain. Recently, unable to bear the uncertainty, I conjured up courage, walked up to the beautiful gate, slightly knocked and asked after my beloved elderly acquaintance. Apparently, he took a trip to his son’s home overseas; indefinitely. 

What seemed like uplifting news had me anguished and sobbing in the safety of my bedroom later that night. I was wounded that I never got to speak to him and tell him how much I appreciated that wave and smile. 

I have been crying a lot!

My bosom buddy Mauryn said to me today; “One thing I know about these emotional states is one always comes out stronger”. 

I hope upon a star that I emerge stronger when this episode finally passes; I’ve been in the pits (for failure to find the mot juste for my current mind frame).  I’ve got to be okay; by fair means or foul. 

To you Shrekeezy; I am sorry. Till we meet again; Rest in Peace!

And to you my beloved “smiley-wavey” senescent pal; I miss you!

Impetuous escapades; soul-nourishing

My Tom & I

It is 10:20 hours and my phone buzzes with an incoming call from Tom; my beloved Tom. My face lights up naturally. Gosh I love this kid unreservedly.

“Hey Ella. Kamba, Mauryn and I are heading out to Entebbe to beach hunt. Do you want to tag along?”

Apparently, they have a goat roasting scheduled for early June and needed to identify a place asap.For a jiffy though I fought shy of partaking owing to the fact that I’m leery at the mention of Entebbe. The traffic along that route is draining!  However, considering I had no plans for my weekend, the die was cast; I would schlep along. 

The plot was to hook up at a mutual spot at 12:00 hours. Naturally, the last person showed a little after 13:00 hours! However, I was in tremendous company; consequently, the wait was worthwhile. What with all the crazy stories Tom seems to always have! 

Forlornly, we had to head out without my girl Mauryn who called to rescind at the eleventh hour due to inescapable circumstances. 

At any rate, as anticipated, Entebbe Road was as gridlocked as ever; this time worse considering kids were reporting back to school.  Providentially, one of the guys was well versed with the course hence an alternative route in the countryside was recommended. Yes, we were able to beat the jam but the detour was so grimy that we seemed like guerrillas from the battle field when we finally emerged to rejoin the highway. It was an adventure to say the least.

Well, our first stop was at a spot called Missed call beach; why missed call? I’m none the wiser even after interactions with its stuff. Perhaps revelers are too wrapped in themselves while there that they hardly notice or take calls. 

Nonetheless, the place is simply awesome; one I would go to with a special someone for some quality time. See, it is an Eden of sorts, serene and clandestinely situated. It is a chalk and cheese comparison to the majority of beaches in this town where throngs are an ordinary spectacle; which makes them be like feeding time at the zoo. Alas, it is devoid of sand!

Subsequently, we looked in on Kitinda beach just adjacent to Missed call; merely sundered by a minute barbed wire boundary marker. This place would intuitively be written off if one judges things by face value. 

However, sauntering gives you little things to appreciate it enough to have you entranced, viz. the spot where the river disconnects from the lake; truly picturesque! The music was spot on; akin to Missed call, less crowded; plus, there’s sand (my young buddies were partial to a sand beach by virtue of the fact that they have several games planned for the D-day).

A venue was selected without further ado; nevertheless, the fun was only commencing. We broke bread at some chic hotel and thereafter rode around the town beach-hopping for frolicking sake till sundown. 

The journey back home was equally delightful; monkeyshines-packed. I've never laughed so heartily.

It’s amazing how much gaiety and fun such extremely arbitrary plots can render; more so if we are in the company of those that unconditionally hold us dear. See, I'm a teetotaler and not one to whoop it up, no matter the scenario. Hence, I come off as insipid. However, these lads; they are simply awesome and take delight in spending time with me, regardless.

Needless to say, with the regular hustles and bustles, time away from the city on such escapades can be so refreshing.

Let your hair down occasionally folks!

The unsung gem

Jajja Florence & her home

We arrived at this modest home hardly any minute after noon and a fleeting look was sufficient to give one a portrait of things. I mean, what with little kids frisking about!

My acquaintances and I set out for a charity activity as is our custom every so often and this time round singled out Kira; a suburb in the outskirts of the city.  It was the Easter break; precisely Good Friday and what souped up way to spend it than putting a smile on the faces of a few innocent souls! 

The home in the picture belongs to an exceptional elderly lady commonly known as Jajja Florence; who driven by her compassion, embarked on a journey to provide for needy kids in her vicinity. Children namely the orphaned and abandoned constitute the 17 ranging from 3-17yrs dwelling in the little house with Jajja; they so dotingly address her. *Jajja loosely translated means grandma*

We were saluted with little hugs and kisses from the overly joyous and astonishingly well kempt little ones. Why astonishingly you may ask; see, the exterior state of the house is awfully deceptive. We were under the impression that the brood would be just as dishevelled. 

However, it is evident that Jajja Florence is doing a commendable job so much so that by the time she came to usher us in; we were by now settled in the living room. Her “babies” (as she so dotingly refers to them) had made sure we were comfy. 

Finally meeting the lady was a breath-taking experience for she exudes such delightfulness that we put our feet up guaranteed that our presence was indeed appreciated. 

Well, she intimated on how it all started; saying a single mother at the verge of death was apprehensive about what would become of her two children when she eventually passed on. This made an impression on Jajja Florence so much so that she pledged to take them in. This was to be the impetus for the bang up job she was to embark on.  She since then has bent over backwards to look out for deprived vulnerable children in her neighbourhood.

Asked how she ekes out an existence; she intimates after a brief but deep silence that “things are not easy” given that she does it singlehandedly. 

Back when she had a clean bill of health, she used to grow the food they needed. However, “lately am unable because of high blood pressure and diabetes” she said. Nevertheless, she soldiers on in a bid to endow the group with basic necessities. This was tear-jerking!

“At uncommon occasions, good Samaritans like you my children (so she addressed us through our visit) chance upon us and chip in” she continued. 

Watching how the young ones drew together around her for a cuddle was enough to evince how much she cares for them. The love in her eyes, boy oh boy, invaluable! *Almost certainly the one thing that keeps them good looking even when they survive on just one meal per day*

This brings me to the crux of this article; recognizing and applauding Jajja Florence. You are simply special. I was and still am greatly enthused. I celebrated you this Mother’s day and you’ll still be my extraordinary person for 2015. 

PS: What is charity? 

The dictionary offers various definitions notably; 

"Generosity and helpfulness especially toward the needy or suffering"

See, oftentimes I invite my colleagues and people I interact with from various walks of life to have a go at reaching out to the needy and shockingly almost always get the “I’m not rich” card. However, one doesn't need to have a lot to chip in. Matter of fact, it's hardly about money.

Case in point is Jajja Florence; a weekend or just a few hours with the kids, edifying them on a few life lessons or just helping out with chores would mean the world to them. It is really a walk in the park making a difference in a child’s life seeing as they possess a variety of needs and hence are quite easy to aid. Be that as it may, whenever you can, share some of the blessings God has bestowed upon you with the less fortunate. You'll latch onto the fact that it is emotionally rewarding!

When all's said and done, huge kudos Jajja Florence! You are a priceless pearl!

Series; profoundly enthusing for the sharp-witted

Gaby,Lynette,Suzie Q & Bree

It was but another of the various Television Series I wrote off my “must-watch” list the jiffy a mate commended it years ago. Truthfully, its appellation put a damper on things for me, for I envisioned a horde of gossipy old hags up to no good. However, I was to discover one dreary weekend that prejudging the worth of something solely by face value is utterly fallacious.  

See, since I came of age, I'm intent on grasping whatever I read, watch or listen to, and, boy oh boy, was Desperate Housewives edifying!

I’m still amazed that the American comedy-drama-mystery Series is actually jam-packed with life lessons; teachings that are enlightening and mind blowing; most notably;

Trust is a fragile thing; once earned, it accords us tremendous freedom. But once trust is lost, it can be impossible to recover. Of course, the truth is, we never know who we can trust. Those we're closest to can betray us.  And total strangers can come to our rescue. In the end, most people decide to trust only themselves. It really is the simplest way to keep from getting burned.

Passion is a force so pertinent we still remember it long after it’s faded away; a drive so alluring it can push us into the arms of unexpected lovers; a sensation so overwhelming it can knock down walls we’ve built 2 protect our hearts; a feeling so intense it resurfaces even if we try so hard to keep it buried. Yes, of all emotions, passion is the one that gives us a reason to live and an excuse to commit all sorts of crimes

Death is inevitable. It's a promise made to each of us at birth. But before that promise is kept, we all hope something will happen to us. Whether it's the thrill of romance, the joy of raising a family or the anguish of great loss; we all hope to experience something that makes our lives meaningful. But the sad fact is not all lives have meaning. Some people spend their time on this planet just sitting on the sidelines waiting for something to happen to them before it's too late.

If you verbalize forgiveness, the brain can trick the heart into letting go of resentment.

There’s redemption if we try to learn from our mistakes and grow.

Every storm brings with it hope; that somehow by morning everything will be made clean again and even the most troubling stains will have disappeared. So we wait for the storm to pass hoping for the best even though we know in our hearts some stains are so indelible, nothing can wash them away.

Why do we clutch at baggage even when we are desperate to move on? Because we all know there’s a chance we might let go too soon.

Yes, it can happen so quickly; life as we know it can change in a blink of an eye. Still, we should be grateful for whatever changes it throws at us because all too soon the day will come when there are no more changes left.

We cannot prevent what we can’t predict.

Temptation comes to all of us. Whether or not we succumb, depends on our ability to recognize its disguise.

Looking back at the world, it's all so clear that there’s beauty that waits to be unveiled, mysteries that long to be uncovered. But people so rarely stop to take a look. They just keep moving. It's a shame, really.

To live in fear is not to live at all. There will always be those who face their fears and those who run away. What a waste!

*opted to not alter any word, phrase or syntax*

To be continued....*still on Season 7 Episode 2*

Perchance even I need somebody

"Cuddling" my pillow was to no avail

Under the weather, insomnia coupled with a roller-coaster of emotions; what a night! For once in an eon I was nostalgic for companionship; craved for someone to knead the kink around the small of my back, give me a tepid sponging and/or just be there.

Owing to the fact that I’m forever pinning my ears back to music, it’s not odd that song titles and lyrics feature profoundly in my musings. Consequently, “You might need somebody”; yet another mellow ballad by Shola Ama sprung to mind; particularly the lines below echoing right through my soul;

 ‘Cause everybody needs someone around

Things could tumble down on you

You'll discover when you look around
you don't have to be alone

Just one lover is all you need to know
when you're feeling all alone...

However, the contemplation was discarded just as swiftly as it had racked my brain by virtue of the fact that I’ve always held my own. Or have I? *second-guessed myself for a bat of an eye*

This fleeting introspection evoked reminiscences of a lunch-break tête-à-tête at office one dreary afternoon in the course of which a colleague called me selfish.  I had just intimated that am such a loner in respect to her query about why I'm single among other things about my social life. She had the opinion that my solitude and adamancy as regards camaraderie tantamount to that. She did have a valid point though seeing as letting people in gets me feeling smothered.

I’m an unfeigned hermit; so much so that I literally repel likely suitors. Beat that! The last person I tried to date was an incredible being and precisely my ideal man. Never had I met anyone with all the attributes I cast about for in a guy i.e. astute, industrious, empathetic, thoughtful and most notably, forbearing. *I can occasionally be a piece of work!*

Envisage a scenario where you seek the company of someone who is always either brooding or giving you a cold shoulder for absolutely no apparent basis. I'm quite certain that no one would want to hang around such. Nevertheless, this man was simply exceptional for he lingered, regardless. I had to salvage his soul by eventually flying the coop. It was the optimal choice.

Needless to say, I suck at this relating game and consequently, maintaining such relations if ever they endure through my elusiveness and flourish. It is this self-consciousness that has me evasive and alas, many a time labeled an egotistical little bitch.

Well, back to my nocturnal ordeal, repression has always been my escape in such situations.  Last night however, I was beside myself with such pining that all my efforts were frustrated. Perhaps, by virtue of the fact that I had turned off my bedside lamp since it had been flickering?  Darkness plays tricks with my mind and subsequently, renders me feeble.   

It goes without saying that it was an ice cube’s chance in hell trying to master my emotions; so much so that I resigned myself to the ride i.e. let them linger. I became conscious of the fact that it was a catastrophe of sorts when playing my favorite genre of music and staring at the stars by the piazza didn’t quite cut it too.

I stopped short of seeking out the one lad I always hanker for during such forlorn times. The only one I would rather consign to oblivion. *a tale for another day*

Perhaps I do need somebody.....

My Shovel List

So, I penned a catalog of people that ruffle my feathers so bad I want to spank them. It is unsystematic though, save for number one; it was the impetus that got my juices flowing in this direction i.e. blogging about them.

Messy and apathetic folks: Case in point and plea; when you're done with whatever business you had in a communal lavatory, for Pete's sake, flash the damn toilet and use the air freshener! There's nothing as nauseating as entering an unkempt washroom. Eeeew!

Insolent colleagues: These make the workplace seem like some sort of camp occupied by political antagonists. Courtesy doesn’t cost a thing. You’ll still have your pair of balls or breasts after offering or politely returning a simple “hello”.

Blatant fibbers: You come off as pathetic when someone can see right through your lies. Such people, I want to hit so hard they would get amnesia, and consequently reform. 

My-way-is-the-only-way-cuz-it's-cool: I’m profoundly infuriated on any occasion someone tries to have me adopt their ways.Yes, I'm a bonafide introvert; however, it's a harmless trait. We can’t all be hyper. I'm also a teetotaler, that’s who I am. Remarks such as "you should learn to drink so you can have a swell time" make my hackles rise. Over and above that, a designated driver would come in handy for whenever you’re inebriated, no?. Needless to say, the world would be a dreary place if we were homogeneous. 

Inebriated psychos:  I have no real personal issue with alcohol; none whatsoever. After all, like I intimated earlier, I don't drink.  However, my beef is with people that do and be reduced to loonies of sorts. Why imbibe to such extremes? It overly irks me.

Atrocious drivers: This alludes to a breed that disregards road etiquette, endanger other road users and hence precipitating such road rage I stop short of sticking my tongue out at them each time.

Devil-may-care grown-ups: If laws against assault were non-existent, I would smack all the irresponsible adults I've had the ill luck of chancing upon. *nuff said*

Cyber alpha males/females: Perhaps I'm slow; be that as it may, I can't and refuse to comprehend how and/or why one would be under the impression that they run these streets. Oh! For crying out loud, it is merely a virtual world. Get a life!

Reckless gossip mongers: I label them reckless owing to the fact that apart from spreading falsehoods about others, it is with such malice and devotion it almost seems like a full time job. Losers!

Schadenfreudes: Yes, I can’t even pronounce the word; however it best describes those that seem to get a kick from seeing others hurt. How do you even sleep at night? 

Smarty-pants: We all have opinions. However, it isn’t a competition that we would lose if we didn’t express them every time everywhere. It sucks being around know-it-alls. Utterly tedious!

I’m heavy-laden-and-so-I-hate-the-world-and-all-its-inhabitants: Dude, we all have hustles. However, we soldier on. Salvage yourself instead of drowning in an abyss of futile emotions such as self pity.

Shams and users: Here falls a category I will term the “make-believe buddies”. The former mastered this game so well that by the time you catch on, you’re in so deep it is heart wrenching. As for the latter, they’ll only be around for as long as it’s beneficial to them. Cold-blooded fleas they are!

Envisage this: We fell out; loathed each other for a while, naturally; I bit the bullet and ate a humble pie, the fact that I wasn’t culpable notwithstanding. Hence, we made up, apparently. Unknown to me, you still harbour revulsion towards me and slyly plot evil but feign affection so much so that am swayed to believe the hatchet was buried. Oh what a waste of emotion! I daresay it’s draining! 

I'm yet to find a tag for this category....

Daunting, revelation-packed & faith enhancing episodes.

My lil angel

In my hotel room one lengthy wakeful night last week; I reflected on God’s infinite mercies and the glaring and humbling reality that He truly loves me finally hit home.

See, merely a fortnight ago, my little one was diagnosed with Appendicitis; Acute Appendicitis at that. We all know anything acute medically is not to pun about. So naturally, I freaked out. 

The dawn of 19^th February has been my worst by far since the inception of this year. Recollections are still vivid. I received a call from my dad notifying me about my daughter’s illness and subsequently the Doctor’s hint on surgery.

As is my routine during business days, I had been preparing to report to work when the call came through and boy oh boy was I a nervous wreck thenceforth! Yes, it’s ordinary; kids take ill every so often. Nevertheless, the mere implication of surgery for a 6yr old got me utterly spooked. I sobbed through everything that morning; showering, getting dressed, calling my supervisor to inform her/ask for an off and at worst, driving home.

I was such a train wreck on the road so much so that for the first time since I started driving, violated some traffic regulations. Obviously, I was pulled over by a Cop who on asking “How are you?” was stunned that I just broke down. To this day, I’m yet to recover from the jolt of what ensued. The lady officer was like “What’s wrong? Why do you seem to be so distraught? I confided in her and explained my situation. With all the love and in a soothing voice she said “My daughter, never ever cry when your child is ill. I want you to take a few minutes to calm down and drive carefully so you can get to your destination safely. Your child will be fine. Just believe in God. I had stopped you for overtaking at a wrong spot; however, I’ll let it slide”. 

Matter of fact, it was astounding by virtue of the fact that police officers are often stereotyped as not being capable of possessing a teeny-weeny twinge of compassion. All I could afford was a teary mystified look into her eyes and after a while, a “thank you so much maám”! This incident pumped me up. I was high-spirited for the rest of the journey. It is true what they say, 

“We find hope and guardian angels in the weirdest of places”

On my arrival home, my baby wasn’t there; apparently she had implored her grannies to let her go to school owing to the fact that she would be bored at home with the adults. This news didn't thrill me but I engaged in stuff to keep my mind off the wandering mostly horrid thoughts. For starters, I visited my former workplace – St. Francis Hospital to consult more on my girl’s ailment and also researched online for more knowledge on the subject just so I could prepare myself, mentally at least for what was forthcoming. 

When I picked her from school later that day, the realization that she was oblivious of her fate was poignant. To her, she only had a mild stomach ache and was feeling much better following the antibiotics she was taking . Oh what innocence!

Yes, they had done a scan, diagnosed her with that ailment I mentioned earlier, prescribed antibiotics for 5 days after which the Doctor would review and decide on if she was still a surgery case. These 5 days were agonizing for all and sundry particularly myself, plausibly. I couldn’t envision my little one undergoing an operation; for in my mind’s eye, routine as everyone else said it would be, I was afraid that something would go dreadfully amiss. 

Regarding the state of affairs, I requested for a 2 weeks’ break from work to enable me play caretaker to my girl and hence personally took her to see the Specialist when the recommended 5 days had elapsed. Unfortunately, he was in the Operating room handling a delicate case when we got to the hospital.  The over 2 hours wait has been the longest in my life since I became a mother. Any parent can envisage the scenes I was playing in my head at that moment. When he finally showed, Tyra started crying so hysterically I was unnerved yet again. However, I mastered all the courage I could and went into his room. He, spontaneously carried out a few procedures on her, made his observations and said “She’s okay now. The antibiotics remedied the condition. I will not need to operate”. 

I broke down yet again, only this time it was with such glee that I didn’t know how else to react. The Doctor’s words still resound in my head to this day. 

Mulling over events, I eventually comprehended why I was overcome by such intense emotions at the Doctor’s office. See, I am not a very prayerful person. Truthfully, I don’t even know how to pray.  I always recite the “Our Father, Who art in heaven” and “Hail Mary...” prayers before I retire and when I awake. I don’t know how to sermon and implore God the way other people do. And yet, He granted me a miracle. One I only solicited via a plain Whatsapp status update “Waiting on God for a miracle”. Evidently, His grace is sufficient for me. 

Prior to my break from work, I had a heart to heart with our General Manager who advised me to trust in God, by virtue of the fact that “life is His”. Yes, we are only human and despair easily; however His plans for us are perfect. And His love, eternal. I mean in lieu of praying and asking for his intervention, here I was busy engaging him in a tiff; daring Him to answer a couple of queries I had such as “why my daughter? Don’t you see that she’s still small? You took my little brother, you want to deprive me of any happiness I may have?”. It was, as might be expected, a fruitless confrontation. He is a God of actions. My daughter was healed!

Accordingly folks, on every occasion you feel heavy-laden, bear in mind that the Almighty is an all loving father; regardless of your social status, religious affiliation and deeds et al. Needless to say, He is Omniscient, Omnipresent and Omnipotent. We can only do so much. Consequently, the ultimate shot is to “Let Go and Let God!”

Poignant ocassionally; nevertheless gratifying, mostly

Got a picture of you I carry in my heart

Close my eyes to see it when the world gets dark
Got a memory of you I carry in my soul
I wrap it close around me when the nights get cold
If you asked me how I'm doing I'd say just fine
But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you
After all this time you're still with me it's true
Somehow you remain locked so deep inside
Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

I still wait for the phone in the middle of the night
Thinking you might call me if your dreams don't turn out right
And it still amazes me that I lie here in the dark
Wishing you were next to me, with your head against my heart
If you asked me how I'm doing I'd say just fine
But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you
After all this time you're still with me it's true
Somehow you remain locked so deep inside
Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

Minutes turn to hours, and the hours to days
Seems it's been forever that I've felt this way.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you
After all this time you're still with me it's true
Somehow you remain locked so deep inside
Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

 

Ever listened to a song that; spoke right to your heart, portrayed your innermost emotions and consequently aroused them rendering you defenseless?

Well, I absolutely relate to this one; “Not a day goes by”, an overly mellow ballad done by Lonestar. I know these lyrics by heart and can absolutely identify with each and every line.

This is precisely how I feel about/for some lad who "marked" my heart and try as I may to fly the coop, still “remains locked so deep”.  

I have subconsciously lingered in a make-believe queue for when my turn will eventually come; pushing away his genus in view of the fact that "the heart wants what it wants" and "it's never too late"

The lines; “Minutes turn to hours and the hours to days. Seems it's been forever that I've felt this way” portray unerringly what I’ve endured for this seemingly unfeasible love. Nevertheless, I have to bite the bullet...my heart is grudging about "relinquishing" this man! 

It is well; in truth, I'm nonchalant. When it's all said and done, I haven’t met anyone that tickles my fancy enough anyway. Or is it by the virtue of the fact that I haven’t given anyone room sufficient enough to bid? Well, whatever!

Music has the clout to evoke or enhance an amalgam of emotions varying from aches to glee. A song can get you letting your hair down or simply ruminating; hinging on the sentiment inflamed and many a time, genre.


I stop short of "screaming the feelings away" on any occasion this case in point plays owing to the fact that it gets me eating my heart out over the young man that enthralled my entire being. This song always provokes "tangerine" emotions! Always!

At any rate, music can have such a weighty effect on one; the reality that it's merely an elementary collection of words accompanied by instruments and mellow voices notwithstanding . Simply awesome!

It goes without saying that it's chiefly soul nourishing!