Before you leave home young adult

Gather your documents. This is a Ugandan phenomenon. Robert Kabushenga remarked that even the phrase ‘documents’ is unique to Uganda. We refer to all our certificates of learning and any relevant attachments to our CVs as documents. Sometimes, because they are all kept in the same place, it includes our identity cards, passports, and birth certificates.

Gathering your documents seems so bane, non-essential. There is so much to do when you are planning to move out of home. Curtains, carpenters, movers and delivery guy coordination. Who would really go about doing something like collecting documents?

This is the very reason why you need to get it done. You left it to the last moment. If you have had the unfortunate experience of leaving an assignment to the last minute and your computer freezes, this will be replicated with the documents.

Photo courtesy

Start by identifying who has the documents you need. Did your parents process your birth certificates? Did they pick your PLE, O level and A level certificates and pass slips from your school? Do they remember where they are?

If they did not pick them up, you would need to plan a trip to your old schools. Prepare to have long conversations with your teachers and other school staff. Yes, they are still there. Unless, of course, your school closed, then you must visit UNEB. This process will humble you. You will be thankful to your parents and teachers for ensuring everything was handed to you. UNEB is run by human beings; they go out to lunch, attend meetings, and use the bathrooms….sometimes their loved ones pass away. Carry your patience and empathy. Be willing to wait and follow mundane instructions.

Check that your names are correctly spelt. You will need to ensure that your name is the same either by deed poll or an affidavit. This process requires a Commissioner of Oaths. Not every lawyer can do this. And it costs money.

I have a friend who laminated all her certificates. You may choose that road, or the commonly used A4 khaki brown envelope. Whichever it is, you need to have them all in one place. Make several copies and keep the originals in a safe place.

The process of gathering these documents will give you a better understanding of systems. The education sector does have systems. The government also has systems to identify you uniquely. Sometimes these systems work together, and you find everything working.

However, where you have gaps in your family and schooling history, you will find glaring loop holes in the systems. This will be emotional. This will bring you angst. Breathe. You are not defined by these gaps. You are made in the image of God. God made you wonderfully. Take courage and do all that needs to be done.

May this poem remind you of who you really are.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear in that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the World.
There is nothing enlightening about shrinking
so that other people won’t feel unsure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.
As we let our own Light shine,
we consciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.”

Marianne Williamson

Biblia

meaning books in Greek. This is the word from which we derive Bible. Your Bible is not one book but a collection of books. A collection of books that carry the Word. John begins his Gospel by stating that in the beginning was the Word. (John 1:1) Words are the building blocks of all books. We commonly refer to the Bible as the Word of God.

Jesus used a Bible with the same books but in a different order. Job is the oldest book to be written. There are 66 different books. The Old Testament has 39 books, and the New Testament has 27 books.

The Bible was written over 1600 years with 40 different authors. These authors included kings, prophets, fishermen, scribes, and shepherds. There is even a medical doctor. A plethora of vocations, styles, and expressions. Each writer carried their own style. The Bible has poetry, narrative, philosophical, and apocalyptic texts. All of them speak with one voice, the Voice of God. When John encounters Jesus on the island of Patmos in the book of Revelation as the sound of many waters. (Rev 1:15)

It was written in three different languages ( Hebrew, Aramaic, Greek) without contradiction. What a wonder! Even simple translation of a Chinese invoice causes problems because language carries context. Language is a means of communication for people living in a certain context. There are metaphors, colloquialisms, parables, and slang that belonged to a specific era. The Old Testament was written mainly in Hebrew and a part in Greek. Portions of Daniel & Ezra are written in Aramaic. The New Testament is written in Greek. Yet there is no contradiction!

God speaks to us in terms we understand. God identifies with us and speaks to us using our languages. We usually refer to the Bible as the Holy Book because it is the Word of God spoken to us.

These books were written on clay tablets, stone, wood and wax, metal, ostraca, and papyrus. Each material shows the era in which the author lived.

Before the printing press, the Bible was copied by hand. The Jewish scribes developed methods of counting words and letters to ensure accuracy of each copy. Unicals (upper case) and minicules (lower case) were developed at this time. They were meticulous and precise. Any error in a letter or word meant the entire scroll or skin would be burnt. They used a particular feather( feather from the wings of Quail) and the ink from a particular tree.

The Bible was the first complete book printed on the printing press using moveable metal types. Johannes Gutenberg invented the printing press in Germany, and this was a major game changer . How thrilled the printers must have been to receive the first copy off the press, and it is the Word of God!

Photo courtesy: Free Photo

And there are also many other things that Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. Amen.

John 21:25 NKJV

Just imagine that! The books we have are so many, so varied over time, yet they could not contain all that Jesus did while He lived on earth. What. Great God we have. His understanding is unsearchable.

The Village

There should be a Rukiga saying or proverb that carries this essence. Our home in Makerere University was always filled with relatives. Although I am the firstborn, I found others before me. This post is dedicated to them.

It takes a village to raise a child

African proverb

My mum was the last born, fondly referred to as buchura among the Banyakigyezi. It means she was really dotted on. Some of her elder sisters were already married by the time she came along. This caused a lot of confusion for me growing up with some cousins being called auntie or uncle by virtue of their age. Yet I referred to their younger siblings by their names without title. At any one time, I always had an elder cousin at home. This was not the case for all my siblings, so I count myself blessed.

There is no silent entrance of a baby in my family. My mum recalls that she did not cook for months after I was born. There was always someone coming with a cooked meal to ensure all she did was take care of me. There was still a large expatriate community at the university, who took it upon themselves to feed my mum. Ideally, she should have gone back to her mother’s home for the first month, but the circumstances at the time did not allow for this. When she was discharged, she returned to her home, and the village came to her. I was really handed down from cousin to cousin, experiencing the same dotting care she had received. Our home was a transit home for those leaving boarding schools to return to Kabale during their term breaks. My cousins at University also spent time at our home.

You cannot give what you do not have.When I had Benjamin, my first born, I went back home for two weeks. My mum had created a schedule for my meals for each one of the fourteen days. She had bought new cups and flasks, which she filled with millet porridge, juice and water. She did not have to be present to measure my daily fluid intake, thes containers reported me. It took me a while to catch on this. She was the first one at my door, every morning with the milestone and activity for the day. Literally. I can tell that I was really well cared for as a baby, she gave what she had in extra measure.

Abaheesi ba Bukora are the people who gave me a mum. They are literally everywhere. We would be shopping with my mum in the market or a shop and hear someone shout, “Omuheesi!” This was their introduction to an animated ten minute banter in Rukiga. I recall just standing to the side smiling before they noticed and asked, ” Ogu ni Kemirimo?”(Is this Kemirimo). To which my mum would nod. This would prompt a brief appraising of my height and exclamations about how I had grown so much. I something of a celebrity baby.

Visiting Kabale was a novelty. There was always a long list of relatives lined up to visit. Just taking a walk on Main Street, we kept stopping to greet someone in a shop or got stopped by someone driving by. I recall my uncle Banyu stopping dramatically in the middle of the road upon citing my mum with us parked by the side of the road. When I took Benjamin to visit Kabale as a baby, I recall finding aunt Evelyn Kasaza at a petrol station, she was in hurry but it did not stop her from shouting “Mungwe” (my dad’s clan) and waving animatedly as she zoomed off. Bakiga are very warm and hospitable people. They love to entertain visitors. You do not just pop in. There is an introductory glass of bushera (fermented sorghum drink), followed by a sumputous meal. If they had already eaten, the car boot was filled with all manner of produce. There is just something about the carrots of Kabale, so sweet and crunchy. Aside from the food, it is the stories and laughter. They weave from one story into another story, punctuated by very loud laughter. The stories are animatedly told. It doesn’t help that the language intonation is punchy and animated.

My mum had so many stories about her cousins. My favourite is how my dad wanted to have a small reception with a few, but her cousins would hear nothing of it. They changed the venue to the Apollo Hotel (now Sheraton Hotel) swimming pool area. It was named Apollo after Dr. Apollo Milton Obote, the first President of Uganda. It was and still is a prestigious venue. From a small wedding, it became the wedding of the year and even featured in the daily. All of these uncles are now deceased, but they were a force to reckon with. Thank you,Uncle Dan, Uncle Baguma, Uncle David Ndyanabo, Uncle Justus Rugyenge, and Mr Rukampena, for filling my life with lots of laughter and fun times. Of course, to the entire Lushaya extended family, mwebare. You are the embodiment of mi casa es su casa.

Purple heart 💜

At the end of the American Revolution war, Presidenf George Washington created the Purple Heart. It was awarded to soldiers who were wounded or killed in action. I am glad that the person who holds my purple heart was not killed, though he was wounded.

Today is 1st August, and I dedicate it to my father. This is not that it is day he chose to celebrate my birthday but rather like Henry Lees eulogized George Washington because he was “first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen (children).” Brackets, mine. It all begins with him. He chose my mum, loved and married her. I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t paused while listening to her playing the violin and decided that she would be the lady he married.

This would have been the day he adjusted his routine to fit in hospital visits. He must have been excited about visiting a nursing mother and baby and knowing all is well with both of them. When I gave birth to my first born, my husband sent an announcement saying, ” father, mother and baby are well.” It was so funny at the time but I can imagine my dad placing a similar announcement on radio. He did so for my baby brother on Radio Uganda, no less. My aunts in Kabale were so excited, it was all they could talk about for months.

I was glad …..“when they said to me…. at last _”a firstborn is born!”
.And…. “it is a girl!”
.Oh! _”Thank God for this precious gift He has given to us“!_
.Her name shall be: Kyampeire! , meaning: “What God has given to us“!
.And on closer examination…..she resembled my mother! She will be kind, firm, vocal, diligent, highly organized….and _good at Mathematics_ (my added thought, then!).

First impressions of my dad.

Hospital visits were the first of many small adjustments to his life as a lecturer. There was the matter of an economy in collapse. Very soon, basic home essentials were difficult to find. He began crossing the border to Kenya to shop for basics like soap and toothpaste. To describe this journey as perilous would be an understatement. He could have been branded a rebel collaborator and murdered. He could have lost everything he bought to looters or marauding soldiers. Thankfully, none of this happened, at least not on the trip from Kenya.

One night, though, he was stopped at a road block and beaten up by the soldiers manning it. They took whatever they could from him but left him with the car. The practice was usually to joyride with the car, ransack it, and abandon it far from Kampala. This is how we also received him back home. The bruises and wounds healed. The injury to his foot left him wearing sandals to this day.

The hope of the righteous will be gladness. (Proverbs 10:28). Gladness was my portion as a baby because of his big, brave heart. If he had faltered, I am sure my life would have turned out different. Even when lecturers left, others were killed, and he stayed and went to work every day. I am so grateful for the stability this accorded my siblings and I. 💜💜

Tea Parties

Is there something about tea parties that means omit tea? Whether it is the Boston tea party where no tea was served or Alice in Wonderland. My favourite is, of course, the tea party described by Lewis Carroll in Alice in Wonderland. There was lots of tea that no one drank. The riddles by the mad Hatter boggled my mind, and the constant changing of places was dizzying. When does one ever drink tea? It was constantly poured into cups but never drank. Once you got past Hatter’s riddles, you would have to switch places. And then time would reset. What a tea party!

An unspoken rule seems to have been passed along with the appointment letters for all those working at Makerere University: Saturday shall be the day tea parties are held to celebrate birthdays. All the parties were held at home either in the living rooms or in our large and well manicured gardens. On the morning of the party, we would go out and invite our friends. All the invites were by word of mouth. The notice was short, but who was going anywhere? It was Saturday. We bathed, oiled our faces with vaseline, and dressed up in our party wear. We walked to the party venue. The table would be decked with all manner of snacks; cakes, biscuits, popcorn, and groundnuts. In some cases, there would pan fried beef muchomo. And games, lots of party games featuring hide and seek aka tapo as the trending. There was a cake, a beautifully iced cake which was topped with candles equal in number to the age of the person being celebrated. The birthday boy or girl would get to make a wish before blowing their candles and cut their cake as we sang, “happy birthday to you.” There was something else about those cakes those days. Let’s not talk about the icing, we ate icing until our faces were coated with icing sugar. The sugar would melt, making our faces a sticky mess. Before the lights came on, we would all be on our way back home. Happy, satisfied, and excitedly chattering about everything that happened at the party.

Birthday in the lower compound aka Badminton court

Birthdays at our home in 148 Garden Hill were celebrated on sunday evenings. The absolute delight was finding a new spot for the party. My dad took it a notch higher and brought a big charcoal grill where he would barbecue goat and chicken. There was the moving of the loud speakers into the garden so we could all enjoy choral music and hymns in the company of nature. The rest of the fanfare was exactly the same as all the other parties for the children. Our parties always had adults. My uncle Victor and Auntie Alyce when they returned to Uganda from exile, my older cousins, godparents, and other associates of my dad. We had an adult sitting area and a kids’ play area. Garden Hill had expansive gardens, so playing hide and seek was delightful. It sometimes included the uninvited dogs chasing anyone and barking to reveal your hiding place. Our friends would return home before the lights came on, but our party would continue. We had so much fun playing what is now called dark and seek. It was hilarious to watch someone tag a silhouette of you; thrilling to experience your eyes adjust to the dark and see clearly. It felt totally liberating to run around the compound late in the night without a care.

One of the perks of my dad being a member of boards was calendars. We always had a calendar, with big and bold numbers showing the date. I loved circling the birthdays on the calendar every year so we could determine when the the party would be.

My dad walked in on me, happily circling the dates and announcing the days to my siblings. When I got to July, I was so happy to find that 31st July fell on Saturday and exclaimed. He proceeded to inform me that I was not born on 31st July. Not born on 31st July? Then when was I born? He noted the confusion on my face and explained that for all the times, my birthday was celebrated on 31st July it was a Sunday. Oh my, how wrong I was. I had to go back to correct all my teachers. I needed to tell my friends that I had the wrong date.

10:15am, my mother recorded in her diary. I was just in time for tea. My mother was a teacher and they usually had their tea breaks from 10am to 10:30am. So on 30th July 1976, I arrived in time for tea. Only this tea party had no tea either.

Picnic birthday at Entebbe Botanical Beach

I still love tea to date. If you prepare it in Swahilli fashion with nice fluffy mandazi, whether or not you call it a tea party, I shall be there.

God gave me a NEW NAME

During the funeral service for my niece, Keitangaza, my dad told us that they had also gone through the loss of babies. Keitangaza lived for a few hours and passed on. The emotions were harrowing. There I was, a mum of my own babies, finding out that I was not the first born… more a middle child. The middle child who lived in 1976! I could not begin to imagine the pain my parents went through, experiencing successive losses of babies. Every conception carries hope, hope that is quickly dashed by death. This was only part of the story.

Dora Bloch was an Israeli national, one of the hostages of the now infamous hijacking in June 1976. She was left behind during the raid since she was ill at Mulago hospital. She disappeared around 4th July 1976, the same day that the other hostages were rescued during the raid on Entebbe. Kampala was held together by rumors. The ‘rumors’ were she had been dragged out of hospital by army officials and sighted being killed and dumped in a sugar plantation along Kampala-Jinja Highway. The British ambassador was not satisfied with the Government responses to their queries about her whereabouts and cut ties with Uganda on 28th July. It was then that General Idi Amin took on the title, CBE- Conqueror of the British Empire and Last King of Scotland.

My dad was a lecturer at Makerere University. They lived at Mosque Hill right next to the University Gate. The period from March 1976 to August 1976, is remembered for being very tumultuous. The students protested the regime’s excesses. What should have been smouldering discontent among hot blooded youth wingers sparked into a full-blown bonfire. A young law student was killed outside the University. Rumors had it that an army captain had taken his girlfriend. He was very miffed about it, and the next minute he was dead. The unrest at the University quickly escalated; a young Kenyan student who may have witnessed his killing went missing. The Africa Hall warden who should have testified in her case, turned up beheaded and dead. She was eight months pregnant. The Makerere students boycotted the President’s speech, calling for his resignation. This was TREASON. By July, the University was occupied by paramilitary groups. Food, electricity, and books were being rationed. By August 1976, 100 or more University students had been killed.

My mother was largely immobile during all this. The doctors had recommended a cervical cerclage. She must have heard every gunshots Fear must have gripped her a few times, as she heard the youthful protestors being silenced by gunshots. On 26th July 1976, she was admitted, and the following day, the stitch was removed. She notes in her diary, “Great pain.” On the 29th of July, she was discharged and readmitted at 3:30am. What was it like to leave home at that time? The road blocks? The discomfort of labour but also the terror?

Edrida Charity Tulya-Muhika nee Lushaya

I was a rainbow baby. The baby born after their sibling passed. The feelings must have been apprehensive and yet excited. There was tension on the outside of the hospital. Mulago Hospital is on the hill across from Makerere University. Walking along the promenande on the 6th floor, you could hear any gunshots and noise from within the safety of the hospital. There was tension on the inside of the hospital. Sometimes, a patient would be brought in and taken away by armed gunmen, and no questions were to be asked. Doctors were being killed; other medics simply disappeared without a trace. There was tension in her own heart. Would her baby live? Would she return to her home with yet another heartbreak? How would she raise a family in this tumultuous country? As a baby, I would cry through the night. She told me that when I visited Kamwezi (her hometown) when the night came, it was so dark. I cried all through the night. All through the night. She drove back to Kampala the next day.

I lived that day. And the day after that. And the day after that. I was called the first born. God changed my name to First Born. Just like Abram became Abraham, Jacob became Israel. I was named the first born. I was named Dora, meaning gift, Kyampaire gift from God, and Kemirimo, meaning the Lord has rewarded my labour.

Today, I celebrate my mother. It was her courage and fortitude that provided a warm and nurturing environment for me. I do not bear the marks of war but for one little detail, the date of my birth.

30th July 1976 is my official birth date because my mum kept a diary, and her handwriting can not be disputed. It bothered me so much that my parents did not know my actual date of birth, yet I was the first born. As with most of my life, nothing is ever what it is. My life is a story. I have come to accept that is who I am called to be.

Before you leave home, young adult

Be ware of the destination trap. Beware of Arrivism. Life is a marathon and not a sprint.

You have probably left home at some point, maybe to do shopping or even schooling. Sometimes, you ran to these places, other times you walked, or were conveyed by some form of transportation. In whichever form, you arrived at the destination and returned home. Embrace this part of your story. There is no place like home.

Do not burn your bridges as you leave home. You are part of an ecosystem that is your family. In your family, you built your first and most intimate relationships. No one knows you like these people do, at least not as yet. Your friends? No, because you would go to them and return home. Home has been your true North. Of course, in all the excitement, you may roll your eyes at this!

The True North is the point on a compass to which the needles always return. It is like they move away, just to do a short gig and quickly return to their comfort zone. There is a comfort you are leaving and shall need to recreate. It has taken years for you to become a young adult. Do not assume you shall recreate your comfort in days or months.

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Marathons are endurance races. It is more mental than physical. You can not look back and see what you have covered, and you can not look forward to the end. You simply follow the markers, look for water stops, and run. Meanwhile, your muscles are telling you to give up. You have to think about regulating your breathing. Your feet are tired of wearing shoes. Everything is yelling, ‘Give up!’ Yet you must keep running.

One, brace yourself for negative emotions. You shall feel lonely. You shall be disappointed, discouraged, and distressed. You shall cry a lot, especially for your mummy. Yes, and it is okay. Embrace the tension between growing into an adult and remaining a child. This is the point where many become addicted to substances to numb the pain. Pain is only an indicator that you are not handling a situation well. It is absolutely normal. Do not numb it. Deal with the cause of the pain.

Secondly, have at least three friends whom you can call at short notice. Life throws curve balls at you, and you need a team that will help you hit them back. Solomon writes that a friend loves at all times. (Proverbs 17:17). Of course, there are backstabbing friends, even Jesus had Judas, and Jesus was the son of God. What about you?(I addressed this is One.)

Thirdly, siblings are gold. If you do not have any, you will have friends who are like siblings to you. These are valuable. Solomon says brothers are born for adversity. (Proverbs 17:17) In His book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Steve Covey introduces us to the notion of an Emotional Bank account. When we treat people the way they want to be treated, we make deposits into their emotional bank accounts. We make withdrawals when we need them to do the same for us. The key word here is need. You shall need to withdraw from your siblings’ bank accounts. Do not ignore them, respond to their texts, better yet create family groups on social media. Have regular hangouts at home and outside home. Spend time together. Invite them over for sleepovers to your home. When they need a place to chill, let it be your home. Take it from Solomon, the wisest king, brothers will pull you out in adversity.

Lastly, find a Church. As you were oscillating to your True North, the faith you carried was not your own. It belonged to your home. You need to believe for yourself. John tells us that the victory that overcomes the world is our faith. (1 John 5:4) He also reminds us that Jesus did say that we would have trouble in this world, but we were to be of good cheer because He had overcome the world. (John 16:33) Ultimately, Jesus Christ is the best gift you shall ever receive in your life because He is eternal life. He brings His peace and joy that never run out.

These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world, you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33 NKJV

Harvest Institute 2021

In the year 2020, the world was shut down due to the COVID-19 pandemic. I recall hearing our President H.E Yoweri Kaguta Museveni saying that schools would be closed for a while as a precautionary measure. Yes, and we all agreed that it was a good thing. We hustled through the six hour long jams with many questions from children about whether this was the end of world, whether they were ever going to see their friends again…and we laughed at the idea.

The next few days after picking our children were a nightmare….Churches were shut down! No Church. Then everything, and we couldn’t even leave home. It seemed like a bad joke…but we were living in it. Eventually, we were confined to little rectangles on zoom, to adjusting lighting and chair positions if we wanted to learn or connect with other human beings. Everything was broadcast to a device near us. No dressing for weddings. Funerals were invite only, even then heavily masked and seated so far apart.

The short version of the story is I survived.

I realized that my world had changed and everything I had been taught would not get me through a Post COVID world. Enter 2021, I joined Harvest Institute School of Leadership. Something in me just needed to shift. I was excited to be back in a room with real people talking to a face without any barrier. The assignment to write a letter to yourself in 30 yrs, caused me to reflect on life. That would be 2051. What would the world look like? How old would my children be? How old would I be? What would matter to me. I recalled that I had different versions of this in other leadership spaces and the only constant was I had adapted to the changes. Nothing in my earlier years had remained the same, and nothing in the next 30 would. That was January.

By February, we were online again! And so it continued, we didn’t know whether we would be in session or online until the week before. There was a possibility we could have been in Kenya for Fearless in person, but Nairobi was shutdown so tight. We were online for the entire summit. Changes were already happening. We were back to those little rectangles.

It was a very volatile year. The year we experienced Delta, many friends and acquaintances passed on. I got to the point where I didn’t want to check my WhatsApp because I knew it would have a death announcement. But everything was online right? I needed Jesus to help me cross over from the fear of death to the triumph on the cross. I spent a lot of time in prayer and the Word. By the time, COVID came into my home and my son got COVID and he thought he would die, I was ready. I told death it could not have him! Jesus is the Word sent to heal all diseases. We didn’t quarantine, we didn’t do all those good things WHO recommended. And he healed and none of us got COVID-19.

Somewhere in July we started the infamous TUSU module which stretched us. You need to understand that you would be chatting with Prof. TUSU on an old assignment and a new group assignment would come in, so you had to chat, read up on the assignment ( because that team can tell when you are fibbing, and you redo….for real…REDO a group assignment) and then come up with the group position. When you are chatting with a Professor, good people, you have to use your mind- know the subject matter, be coherent and reflect on other views.All this with children online, managing logistics of supplies, oba where are you positioned for the zoom call…and reading….and thinking about that new blog! Kati in the middle there, they introduce the term VUCA and we had to work with CEOs to help their companies survive….we were the ones learning! Ha ha . Stretched or stretched!

The final module was the ice cream cone for me. Everything made sense. I appreciated the journey, how we began. I had been given an opportunity to observe leaders navigate a very volatile year, to read the books they read, to ask questions and to gain clarity on what I was learning through synopses. In that session, I realized that God had given me gifts and resourced me for such a time as this. I was where I was because He had placed me there deliberately. But it wasn’t just for me- Everything made sense. Mr. Claude Nikondeha is the facilitator for this session. His story is just one of using his resources, his connections, his gifts and wisdom to make other people’s lives better. Your life is not about you alone- you have what you have so you make other people’s lives better.

I published my first book with the title Sculpted By Design because I realized that no one is here by accident. God is the Sculptor and He has been very precise and deliberate about each person and each resource.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall

Who’s the fairest of them all? Disney’s rendition of Snow White has the most ominous tone for these words. In my childhood, I always wondered why she had to ask the mirror. Couldn’t she tell for herself? She was the queen, couldn’t she have organized a beauty pageant like King Xerxes did…but I guess fairy tales are just that, fairy tales. More questions than answers.

How does one then tell the fairest? Is there a world standard on beauty? Is beauty only skin deep? Are we just bodies? No, of course we aren’t. This is exactly why you dear reader are able to read this blog. You are spirit, you possess a soul and you live in a body. You desire more than skin deep interactions. You are more than just dermis and sweat excretion.

Appearance is the seed for perception. As we grow older, we become experts at wearing masks. It might be your make up routine and your desire to conceal every single flaw on your face. It may be the bold and assertive spring in your walk. We go at it from morning to evening, how do I look? Mirrors are such an important part of our routine, a typical car has three. Mine has five. I have a close up mirror in the sun visor that lights up so I can detect the pores in my face. There is no excuse to appear unkempt and not altogether. You just look in the mirror, and make sure what you see is how you want to be perceived.

Photo credit: Pinterest

But the body is only a third of me. How often have you been dressed to the nines but feel so unprepared for that presentation? Everyone thinks you have it under control. (Remember perception) While you are literally looking for exits from the room and hoping the ground shall swallow you. Let’s talk about loss or failure. One fine day, I stumbled on a slightly higher tile, because whereas my eyes saw all these tiles as even from a distance, my feet did not. And there I was flat on the ground in this grand shopping mall. Luckily, no one knew me. I quickly got up and checked myself. No broken bones, no ripped jeans, just a bit of grazing on the knee…not sure how that happened and left the jeans intact. I looked for the nearest public bathroom- washed my hands. Looked at myself in the mirror and off I went. Of course more carefully. I mean these tiles are deceptive. All the while wondering why I fell? No one in that mall knew what questions were running through my mind? As I tried out shoes? Inspected clothes? Checked out price tags?

I paused for a moment to think about the other shoppers. What was going on with them? What silent battles were they facing? What were they celebrating? I could only attempt to read their faces and their gaits but there is no mirror for the soul. The bathroom did not have a mirror for me to check my own composure. How was I dealing with this fall? In Gayaza High School, it was complete and utter digiloss to fall down. It is easy to brush it aside because no one really sees what you feel. But does it make it unimportant?

Babies it turns out do not recognize themselves in the mirror till they are 18 months. Philippe Rocat’s five stages reveal that our self awareness which is our consciousness of who we are develops with time. Level 3 is where the babies can tell that the image in the mirror is them. It is also when they recognize that they are distinct from their environment but can be connected through language. So their ability to communicate develops rapidly from this point on. What a shock! Looking at babies giggling in mirrors, one would think they are aware of themselves. No, apparently that is someone. They don’t know who, just it is someone.

For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was.
But he who looks into the perfect law of liberty and continues in it, and is not a forgetful hearer but a doer of the work, this one will be blessed in what he does.

James 1:25 NKJV

I thank God for James, one of the patriarchs who writes these beautiful words in this letter to the twelve tribes of Israel scattered abroad. The perfect law of liberty! I can forget like the evil queen who I am when I rely on a mirror. But not when I look at the perfect law of liberty.

The perfect law of liberty is the Love of God as written in His Word. God is love and His perfect love frees me from fear.Fear of being. Fear of not being. Fear of death. It reveals to me who I am. This mirror covers my flaws and reveals my perfection. I am liberated. It is the only mirror that can do this. This mirror is Jesus Christ, the Son of the Living God. The Word that became flesh and dwelt amongst us.

Jesus is the fairest of them all. When I look at Him and do what He does, I am changed to look like Him. Liberté ! Viva! Viva! Viva!

Young adult, before you leave home,

Take care that you have learnt to work. But isn’t that the same thing as earning money. No, it isn’t. Work is work. Earning money is earning money.

Work according to Physicists has to do with force and motion. Yes, there must be energy in this thing and something has to change. You may imagine that just because the chair cushion deflates when you sit on it, you have worked. Not at all, my friend, the cushion has worked. You just sat there.

Work is repititive. It is usually a progression of many small tasks. Let’s take washing dishes as an example. You need to remove the dishes from the table to the sink or the general area where the washing shall be done. You clear any food remains. You get the soap and sponge, lather and begin to wash. Some pots and pans require extra energy to get the food remains out. Rinse and hang to dry. After drying, they have to be put away. You repeat this sometimes three to four times a day.

Work is responsibility. If it can be done by anyone, then it is not work. If someone has to take it up and be seen to do it, then it is work. For example, anyone can dive into a pool and swim (caution: if you have not learned to swim, this category might exclude you, cause you will not swim but rather flail), but only a lifeguard can save a swimmer in distress. So the lifeguard is working while you are swimming.

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Work is not rosy. Yes, most of us have this grand ideas about getting a job. We shall simply be conveyed in very clean elevators to our pristine offices and type one word on a keyboard with neatly manicured nails…and it shall be 5pm. Welcome to the Bubbles bursting session! So it starts with waking up early, and this starts with getting to bed early. This means denying yourself a whole night of binging on series. It means setting alarms. It means having the clean and near clothes to wear. It means managing time. You must beat the traffic to be at work at 8am. Even if you work from home, you must beat so many pleasant thoughts of breakfast in bed to start when you said you would.

Work is a requirement. God worked. God is working. In Genesis 1, we see God at work creating our environment. He gave Adam the Garden of Eden to tend. Tending is fruitfulness and multiplication. The requirement was that Adam would multiply Eden all over the earth.

Then the Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to tend and keep it.

Genesis 2:15 NKJV

Work is a resolution. Adam was not designed to keep the garden small and maintain his 50 by 100ft plot with his small family of two children. No, Adam was built for subduing and dominion. Imagine that we are now 8bn people in the entire world, from the one man Adam. That capacity is in you as well. You are not here to pass Mathematics with an A*, you are here to extend the Kingdom of God. Jesus said that His Father was working, the tense is present continuous. There is no day or night if the earth is not rotating round the sun. God is working. You should be too. The whole of creation is working, atoms with their protons and neutrons are in constant motion. Birds are forever flying. Trees are growing. Babies are growing. Everything is designed to grow. You must resolve to grow by working.

Work is rewarding. Going back to the Physics definition, you do something that causes something to be set in motion that brings a new result. I start out with raw matooke and end with hot, steaming yellow and tasty delicacy. I start out with a grimy floor and end with a sparkly, smooth feeling floor. I start with very few people interested in opening accounts and end with a greater percentage transacting their businesses through my bank.

By this My Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit; so you will be My disciples.

John 15:8 NKJV

Young adult, before you leave home, take care that you have learned to work and to value work.