namwano

For a while I haven’t allowed my fingers to dance around the keyboard. I was breathing just a little. A little was just fine, for now (then), because during the pandemic, many had stopped breathing; and no one knew when their turn to stop breathing would come. I really don’t remember seeing beyond the moment; we at our workplace were among the few that rarely worked from home, and that served somewhat as a destruction from the reality that the world had been brought to its knees. For the past few years, breathing was considered a luxury. To conquer the anxiety of life required a dedication to a lifestyle we called social-distancing; it worked for a season, until I found myself wondering, “I want me back, this isn’t me”.  The volume knob of life had been turned down low. We could now hear people’s fear, doubts and anxieties equally as loud as we heard their dreams-at least for the number whose ambitions were not snuffed out by doubt. The pandemic made way for a lot of doubt. Even the mo

       The end of another 365 is almost here. I picked a few life lessons that remain etched like tattoos both on my mind and in my heart. I picked a few out of the many overwhelming ones I would have shared, and I hope that you can maybe pick and carry one or two (or five or ten) and share them too. 1.       Learn to see people the way God sees them. I have always thought there is a reason why the famous 1 st Corinthians 13:4-8 begins with “Love is patient.” It is the foundation for all else that love is. Patience has fibres of grace, compassion, correction and truth. 2.       Do not just have goals in common, have God in common too. 3.       If you stay long enough with people that are determined to stay the course, they will brain wash you into believing that nothing is impossible. That nothing is difficult. That some things though not pleasing at first, are worth the pursuit, worth the fight and worth the risk. 4.       Grey is made up of red, blue, yellow & white

Life has been defined as several things. In the present season, it feels somewhat like an uphill trek, only this time, the view does not feel so great. Today, I am here for the one who this pandemic feels like walking through a pitch-black hallway, with arms groped forward to guide, while tears block your eyes. To be honest, no one has been spared from this. No one has been let off the hook. For a few, this may be a blessing in disguise, but I am here today for the one wallowing in uncertainty. I want you to wallow until you can wallow no more. I am here for the soul that is longing to make sense of the chaos in their head; for the soul for whom rest of late has become a luxury; the one whose paradise feels lost, and whose current road feels longer and harder. I am here for the one wailing like David asking, “How long, Oh Lord, how long”? (Psalm 13:1-2) Our lives have become urgent. We have been thrown into a desperate struggle. Comfort has become an illusi

“It is one thing to win, it is another thing to win as the real you”. This is my theory of the real me; The real me is not an end, it is who I am now and everyday. The real me is growing; the real me is becoming. And in order to become it, it may take time. In that time it will require, on my part, a resolve to stay committed to the process , hard work that requires sacrifice , and belief that sustains in the seasons when the best version of myself feels like a fallacy. The real me is and will continue to be challenged. My frailty will be inflated, my fear magnified and on several occurrences, I will be greatly mortified. Because I know how deep the cracks of my enmeshed brokenness run and I remain uncertain of the genuineness or fake state of my circle. And by the time I make peace with the reality that ‘This is Me’, I may have lost a couple of things, and sometimes people. Nevertheless, the real me will make good of the wholeness that is crafted by th

It is not the easiest thing to feel like a royal priesthood every day. It is easier actually, if you ask me, to feel like the Israelites. A bunch of fearful, traumatized individuals walking through high walls of waves with the possibility of death any time. This pandemic has served a cocktail of sturdy and fragile days. Sometimes I feel like Peter, the confident Christ follower who knows Jesus on levels deeper than the seas; levels where flesh and blood do not reveal some intricate mysteries. On other days, I feel like Peter the traitor. If asked to defend Jesus, I’ll outrightly betray him. Because standing up for Him would mean losing myself, yet I like this version of me, and I am not ready to let go. On a daring day I may go all Delilah on you, and go about life hiding my truth until an encounter with Jesus at the well leaves me questioning why a Holy God would still see past the flaws of a thirsty soul. So much so, He would have an in-depth conversation with me, an

“Great people talk to themselves”, said one of my personas during my private talks with myself. Many who see me bet that I am crazy. I know I am and I am not just saying that, it is the truth; because while their opinions should have caused me to revert to more group talks or regular one on one dates, they have actually fanned the flame of open, thoughtful discourse with myself. This pandemic particularly has literally brought peace in and around me. The streets are kinder, thanks to the wearing of masks that has most graciously allowed the ‘crazy’ ones like me to take our internal sotto to the streets without worrying about external ‘threats’ such as glaring eyes and loud whispers about how they witnessed a weird man or woman that seemed light-headed. So here is a recently written monologue before reversion back to sanity (even though speaking to oneself is really the greatest sanity of all). When I was growing up, I heard a lot about the ‘crying stone’. It is a large gibber

“How are you?” For those who may attempt to be courageous and compassionate enough to ask this good question, allow me to give you fair warning, you may want to brace yourself to carry a burden. The answers from the people you ask may include the following,  “I am tired…” “I am sad….” “I am angry at God …” “I am giving up…” “I am worried…” “I feel hopeless…” “I feel alone… “ “I feel like I am losing my mind …” A lot is going on at the moment. And while it is easy to push each other to praise despite our feelings, as I did in my previous blog, I am aware of the reality that sometimes good words spoken in tough times can be more toxic than healing. We may expect people to brave out this pandemic and quite a number may be. However, while hope is said to be a working strategy, on the day when the crack hits bottom, breaking is a strategy too. “How are you?” We ask this question pretty flippantly these days, with an expected “I’m fine”, or “