ABOVE THE MARKED OUT LINE

Today, I stood at the line of death. Not really the ultimate picture of death, but I have learnt that death has no second glances. I got stuck in the elevator at the Senate building in Makerere University. The panic that built up was more on the things I have not accomplished and the things I have dreamt of doing but held back. I thought of the boredom of rules that have held me captive and the unpardonable fact that I am stuck at surviving through life. I finally managed to get out before the electricity came back and vowed not to use the elevator of that institution again.

But that got me thinking about the limitations we stay locked in. The fear to ask for what we want, the procrastination we dwindle to and the put-off dreams we hope to achieve in the future. It was all there in the marked out line that exists in our heads and we cannot go beyond it. I have often told myself, "if it is to be, it is up to me", while those words hold a reality in my life, I find myself a lot of times, hanging by the line that society has marked out for me. The line that screams out this is how far you can go. I also always tell myself that, my dreams are my actuality but how true that has been for the past few months was tasted in that elevator moment.
It is true, that we all have dreams and ambitions and while not all of us have the ability to brings to pass all our dreams, we stand at liberty to make life happen. There I was standing in fear at the reality that a mediocre life is not a legacy worth leaving behind. So for you and me, there is an awakening, to break the status-quo of life and beat the odds. Many will tell you that, but the reality lies in doing something about that that you have heard. Work hard and walk above the marked line.
My friend always says, break the glass. We live with people that have reached the ceiling glass, cracked it and broken it open. They walk passed the marked out line and each day surpass the laid out passage of life.

I thought of all the ladies I have admired  instead of become. I thought of Julia Sebutinde, my woman crush of all time, Maggie Kigozi, Geraldine Ssali Bussulwa, Mother duck (who is the only female thoracic radiologist in Uganda) and many other women that have been singled out of breaking status-quo. It then dawned on me, I needed to get up and stop speaking but act.
But not just me, you as well dear darling, if life has opened possibilities for you, it is your turn now to soar and find a destiny worth recording down, May you be written about in books, May you inspire a little girl to dream big and may you leave a mark above the marked out line. Become the Most Valuable Player in the game of life, beat the odds, jump the hurdles, believe in yourself and listen to the journey's guidance.
It takes a heart ready to beat normal, to see that there is more to this life than what has been presented. They ought to be something more and  I am out to find it. May my spirit be never content with living behind the marked out line.

THE CHILDHOOD THAT WAS

My niece turned two years this week, and looking at the gift I had bought and the toys that she plays with, the I-pad game oriented gadget, the little child laptop for English learners and all that glamour. I was taken back in retrospect to a time when the banana fiber doll and ball was all there was to toys, to the tyre rolled for a car, that contained a lot of water inside for fuel and two sticks to maneuver it forward. To top it all, I remembered the nights of riddles and stories by the verandah in the night filled with magical African tales of walumbe and Nambi, of Nsangi and the great gorilla. The telltale of what the riddles meant added the excitement to the process of learning these African heritages.

Then I thought forward, to what technology had changed. With its many blessings it brought, it as well ended the evening camping by the front door, the discourse with the grownups who were the master of the stories, so much so that conversations with adults are now with much tension and suspicion. My little nephew could not even spare time to talk with me, he was far indulged in killing imaginary enemies on his game and the evening passed, with  little talk on how the gadget works. It must have been the stars that made the stories so magical, I couldn’t know because there were nights that were starless as well. The fire stove burning with dinner was a delight for the stories, inside the stove was always a stone burning hot for the bed wetter, they used to say it would cure bed wetting, ah they lied, for I must have ceremoniously done so much bed wetting up to my Junior high school.The stories were half the fun; the games took the other part of it. School was gone through in haste with the hope of playing with whoever was willing to play; it was far beyond easy play, games like: kwiiso, noble, bladder, kawuna, stuck in the mud, Nations call (you know that game, where we would have a country for identification and once you were called, you had to do your math to the next country) It was heaven in the early years of my life. While I would retire to bed very tired, I would always wake up looking forward to the fun at the end of the day.

 That is what, technology and fast growing internet has changed for the millennial and those that will come after that. We are cut short between the simplicity of the swing and playground to game station laden theaters for our little ones.                                                                                                            So I held out the Children’s bible for little Missy, hoping that would be a start for many stories, Very different from Wakaima and Wango but mind-intriguing stories anyway. There should be a start to writing African tales, such that even in the age of technology, our heritage is passed on to the little ones and even re-lived by the older ones. That in the presence of reading Jane and Peter, they do not miss the beauties of the hills described in Walumbe and Nambi. That while they won’t grow to have childhood friends who changed their mathematics by playing stepping stones, they can have friends they read with African tales. In retrospect, I write but as well, in pride I pen a time that brought me friends for a life time, memories to share with all that care to listen and above it all, an African heritage I hope to pass on.

 

 

THE MAN YOU SCRIPT

The man I script,

The man I pen,

The pen scribbled a face,

a distant yet visible frame,

 

He had a form of righteousness,

 not too much to make him inhumane,

he was more of a me that I saw.

 

An element of Africanism and black life heritage...

he was greater than the pen I held,

And my heart skipped a beat...and another one...

 

He was the man, I saw through my words. His face so real,

Man from a society of men with furnace hearts

with zeal to raise a man of utter warriors.

 

He had a rare intelligence,

that questioned the status quo,

he had a faith peculiar,

but not in the things I believed in.

 

Aye, he had me bound to the paper

for penning his image brought me life...

he was a picture of my heart,

The man in my script.

 

BECOMING A POLYGLOT

Stimulations of intellect come from many things in my life. I will read a book, not even the most boring person would want to read and still find myself living through it. I take the most unwanted Moocs ( I have not come to finishing any because of time) but I still take in something to push my brain to keep going. There is something about opening the brain up for new challenges and new experiences.

I still find intelligence the most appealing aspect of the human being.(take notes, dear men) And there I was, with my appeal for the next brain stimulating skill. I need to become a polyglot! It is fascinating and brain awakening to see someone speak more than one language. It should be something to have,so I started off my journey with a TedEx talk on the ability to speak more than one language and then I read as many articles on people that are polyglots and those that have met polyglots. The urge to be a polyglot is growing on me, so I have decided if it is to be...it is up to me. I am going to start on my journey to becoming a polyglot. But first, I have lined up languages that are easy to grasp and then ace them before I hit off with the harder languages. No, I am not going to learn Mandarin Chinese! but out of a need to have a variety without breaking down in the journey. It should be something worth becoming and I know, it has the ability of opening as many opportunities as could be.

But other than the desire to get there, I have learnt  life lessons through it all as well. It is in our power to make ourselves better. It is like adding value to a product, you keep packaging your life in such a way that, everyone  will want to have you. That is a great way to go through life making not only an impact but change for yourself and as many people that meet you.
I have also learnt a self-love that pushes me to be a better me at all times, it should be amazing to look out for yourself because no one else is going to. So now, I am off to start a journey of words and languages. I am off to see what the world looks like in other languages apart from English. It should an adventure better than the world I have come to know.