namwano

“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 “

He was not the easiest to lose sight of in the crowd. His height easily betrayed him. He didn’t seem to care much about the attention though, because well, you don’t get to negotiate things like height with God before you escape the womb. I met him in church. He looked pretty young and while in one of those “let-us-meet-behind-the-tent-after-the-service” meetings it was evident he had wit. Our conversations were majorly brief and for an introvert like me, shallow waters are not my thing. I love to dive deep, wade in troubled waters to get to the heart of personalities and expressions. But he was too rigid to break through, and unless I really value you, I won’t lay in wait on your walls. If I can’t peel, I’ll deal. And that is fine with me.  He would make himself comfortable in the back left row, strolling in a few minutes just before the service began, making his silent petitions while awaiting the service to begin. You see the beauty of being a church instrument

"God..." That is how most of my prayers have started and ended when asked to pray. I can't get past this simple yet grandeur three letter word because of the chaotic poetry built in my mind, when the response to "How are you really doing?" comes with a narrative filled with doubt, fears and sometimes tears. "God... Help... " Well, that is not too bad, at least I've gathered whatever little strength I have within me, to get a little bit more of His attention, by calling Him by name and asking for what I want. Actually it is not what I want, it's what I need. I need help. But the prayers sometimes end there, and if I'm to start again, they are a repetition of the same. Then, another word, “God... Help... Me...” That's it! I think that's a good enough prayer, and frankly it's taken every ounce of strength in me to say it, through sobs and wails. The rest of the prayer is more of wailing, and I'm a firm believer He

Photo Credits: @kilographyke There are a couple of reasons why I do what I do the way I do it. I think the main question here is more the “why” than the “bother”. It is more a question of motivation and an open door to witness what is considered valuable to a person. You get to see what one considers worth it. So here is why I bother; I bother because I do not belong to myself. I belong to God. Any person that has accepted Christ through salvation comes under the authority of Christ. Authority gives instructions while at the same time providing choice and consequences. The choice to live for Christ and belonging to his kingdom comes out of a love for Him. I put God first, then put myself next in line before I let others in. I bother to love because God cared enough to love me too. I bother because I do not conform, but rather I am transformed. My mind is the hub in which dreams and visions are conceived. My mouth is the channel through which they can either be birthed or

There is something about care that makes a difference. Something about paying attention to the little things and having a genuine interest, particularly in people, that makes this world somewhat bearable. Genuine interest is an act that can only be tried and tested to be true by those that know you on a soul level. It is something actively shown, not something merely said. There is a famous quote by one John Done that states, “No man is an island”. It is an expression used to explain that self-sufficiency doesn't quite cut it for any human in life. That everybody needs somebody. That everybody needs community in order to thrive. American actor Ron Cephas Jones, in his role as William, in the hit series ‘This is Us’ mentioned a rather profound statement about community. He says, “Community, it’s a strange word on its own, a word not as warm as family. But that’s okay because we have each other. We have this place, and that’s not nothing, that’s not nothing at all.” Commu