I’ve been watching some really badly scripted series. Partly due to a bad mood which a series cant cure. But mostly due to some lady whom i can relate to there. Everything seems to go wrong with her life. Everyone seems to fail her.

Yet she rises.

Someone believed in me today. Just when i had stopped believing in myself in that specific regard. Not stopped believing in myself exactly. I just don’t have the enthusiasm I once had about new ventures. The hope that things might work out this time round. When they have failed a thousand times before.

I sometimes dread my mother’s call. She means well I’m sure. But I wish I could unhear the desperation in her voice for my life to work out somehow.

I wouldn’t change how my year has been so far. But I don’t want August to reach. It’ll be an year since I graduated. And I have done much with my life since then. Just much that only counts according to me.

And as much as only I matter, I would wish to make something of myself according to the people that matter to me too.

Tomorrow I dust myself up and start something. Deep inside I’m not scared or afraid. I’m bleeding. Because I know how much my heart pours itself into anything of my liking. And sometimes, most times, almost all times, it has been left empty, scarred, scared, spent and bruised.

Some days are really good. And some like today, when a character can undo my insides, leave me wondering, does it ever end? I know the automatic answer to that. I just wish I knew it experientially.


This is how you travel with sadness.

I would love to tell you about that pain. But I won’t. Because how do I describe pain that makes one feel like their whole being is in a torture chamber? But not exactly? Like the soul aches so much that one wishes that they would have a physical injury to reduce it. How do I tell you pain that makes one start thinking of their casket and how it would hold the remains of one with so much promise? How can I paint for you the picture of sadness so anguishing that one starts looking for deities to sacrifice their soul to just for a moment of peace?

See, I can’t. I wouldn’t find the words to say to you how much torture a single soul can take in one morning.

But i’ll tell you something else. Travelling with sadness. And how it goes down.

The night before the travel you’ll google on how to travel with sadness. The results will be there in hundreds of pages. I mean nothing is new under the sun. So you’ll proceed to read page after page of advice. They’ll tell you to rest enough. A little too late if you are travelling the next day very early. And your insomnia is keeping you company as you talk to Dr google.

They’ll tell you to avoid extreme unnecessary social activities like drinking late into the night. You don’t drink anyway, so that doesn’t work for you. They’ll tell you to not over exert yourself. Not that you were planning to anyway. They’ll tell you to take care of yourself. Like you were supposed to take care of who else if not yourself? They’ll tell you to take rest days between travelling. Not that you have that option.

They’ll tell you to and you’ll be tired of things they tell you to and decide to sleep and just travel with your sadness. You’ll see how it goes. But then, an hour inside your bed, lack of sleep will lie to you to motivate yourself. What they call self-talk. Don’t listen to yourself.

Because the next day when the journey starts, and you are in a bus full of happy loud strangers and a close friend, none of it will matter. Ati you had decided to enjoy the 3days and then come back to your sadness? This is where they say Man Makes Plans ,God Laughs. Your sadness will cling to you like you can’t live without each other.

It will drain the life out of you in small droplets of pain at an extremely high speed. Some minutes in and you’ll start thinking of those times you were in physical pain and wishing it were now. Because physical pain is better than soul-pain.

Your tortured self will now be in so much anguish that you’ll do anything to stop it. That is when your inner self will lie to you again. Telling you that if you just close your eyes, things will be better. My friend, don’t listen to yourself. But because yourself is all you have, you’ll go ahead and decide to check if your wisdom is wise enough.

Worst move of the day. Closing your eyes will give your head a platform. And your head will take that opportunity to collabo with your soul and torture you even further. At this point of negative thoughts your head shall start pounding. Your stomach shall start churning the little breakfast you put into it. Your nausea will feel unbearable. What does man do when they can’t live with themselves or in themselves?

As you furiously fight tears back, because who cries in a truck full of travelling souls? You’ll imagine your casket. With your soul out of your body. Feeling pity for your former alive self because of how much promise she held. Too bad she couldn’t live with yourself. But remember you are still travelling. No hopes of a casket nearby or the wherewithal to get into one.

It is at that moment that you shall remember God. Wrong move again. For that shall send more tears to your soggy eyes. What do you tell Him? That you’ll sacrifice anyone in your family except your small brother if he agrees to let this pain go? But don’t worry. You won’t be able to mutter a word of plea let alone a prayer. Maybe this is where that verse that said ,interceding with groans ,applies.

But as if the universe is not cruel altogether, you’ll fall asleep. Sweet sleep. You never enjoy sleep. But you’ll enjoy this one. In between yourself you’ll wake to find tears in your eyes, wondering, should we fall? This shall happen over 5 times in your sweet sleep. And each time you shall blink back the tears and go back to sleep. This is why you believe in supernatural beings. Because normally, even at night, when you wake up in sleep, you never go back to sleep. Its always impossible. Until now.

And still on deities, when you wake up, after trying unsuccessfully to fall back asleep, you shall discover that your anguish is gone. Rather, the intensity of it. That you can now appreciate the traveller’s noise without wanting to shut them dead. That you can now talk to your close friend. That you can now write. That you can now travel in some sort of peace. That you are alive. Maybe not okay, but not thinking of caskets as pain relievers either. And you shall smile. Because some deity must have smiled upon your soul after all that unbearable anguish.

And that my friend, is how you travel with sadness.

Borrowed fuel.

Ever felt like you are running on borrowed fuel? Like just one more mishap and you are done.

I’ve spent the last 30 minutes trying to figure out how I feel. And that first line up there is quite accurate. I’ve found myself avoiding instances that will make me tired, or will strain me or have the potential to.

I’m not tired. But I’m almost there. Its like when you are sick and its either you get well or you get bedridden. And since any will do, i’ll do my best to avoid or at least postpone the bedridden phase.

I’m going to Takawiri on Friday. I wish it were under better circumstances though. Like if maybe I was in a better place. Right now it feels as if I’m holding on a cliff. Where life has already pushed me over but I’ve refused to fall and instead I’ve held on. But my hands are getting tired.

Make sure we get there.

This is to the ones we meet huko in box when I post those posts of how badly i’m doing. Not the encouragements; those ones really help and some people even reach out to help( God bless your souls). No.

This one is for those who relate. Those who have been beaten down by life or are being flogged by it right now. But sincerely speaking, this one is majorly for me. I need to hear this.

The goodness of being at the bottom of the pit, is that it can’t get worse. Like yes, the pit can start smelling or be filled with water or snakes invade your already horrible space, but from here, if we make it out of here, things can only get better. The only way out of here is up.

And that really encourages me nowadays. Previously, the fact that i’m here used to depress me. It still does. Clearly. But I find myself taking the pain more gracefully when I remember that the only way out of pain, is being painless. The way out of joblessness is by getting a job. The way out of being sad, is being happy.

So as much as the sky looks really grey and dark right now, the only way out is through sunshine. And its coming. May not be today or tomorrow or next week or next month.

But it could be today, tomorrow, next week or next month. I don’t know. So I won’t give up now. Not knowing is really hard. But I imagine that if my breakthrough didn’t come today, who knows? It could come tomorrow.

A familiar stranger on social media toasted us to the future. And I said to that person, ” if we make it to that future “.

That’s when I realised, that I don’t owe it to myself to make my future, but I owe it to myself to get there. To the future.

We might get there broken, battered, beaten down, bruised, scarred, scared, afraid, spent, worn out, weary, bewildered, surprised, bleeding, limping, patched up, torn out, in pieces, but we will get there.

Either way, we will get there. Even if it means crawling our way to there, jogging, hoping and skipping, being dragged , being carried, fighting our way up to the last step..either way, we will get there. One way or the other, doesn’t matter how.

Today is hard, but we do what we gotta do. My best part in Sarafina was when she gave a speech right before they sang the last song. Specifically her last line in that speech, ” ..i’m coming home. Home where I belong”. She said it with so much oomph, promise and hope. It just was.

Same thing today. I may not be home. My soul may be tortured. Whatever is driving you insane could still be pricking you right now. But peace is on the horizon. Every single day lived is a day closer to home. Whatever home means to every one of us.

This is a toast to the future. We just have to make sure we get there.

God of the hills and valleys

The last few months have been hard on me. Very hard. One of those moments when you go from bad and just when you think its getting better, it gets worse, then you think that surely,  can it get any worse than this? Then the worst happens. It was the longest I’ve ever stayed underwater. And the hardest. At some point even tears disappeared. I didn’t even have the strength to ‘suffer’ anymore. 

And due to that long wilderness/famine/drought/tornado and all things undesirable, some of my relationships have been affected. 

When they say you should have one or two real friends. They mean it. My one or two close friends have been there. And I don’t think our relationship has been affected by my ever changing situation. Don’t I just thank God for the people in my life who I can be vulnerable to( and this is really hard for me despite my father always wondering why I put my ‘whole’ life on my blog;hehe), and who aren’t afraid to openly rebuke my thinking? 

Anyway, one of the relationships that took a hit was mine with God. We were like lovers who just can’t live with each other anymore, yet are not ready to separate. But the can’t-live-with-each-other-anymore was a bit more than the we-are-not-yet-ready-to-separate. 

I’ve talked here about being angry at God. And the way you should take that anger to God, He can handle it. Well, we progressed from anger to more serious feelings like doubt and resentment( yap, when I said hard, I meant it). No one has ever prepared me for this; not that I’m ever prepared for what life throws my way nowadays. Its just that, what do you do when you feel as if the King of Kings shortchanged you? Like if you are angry at a King, and you value your relationship with him, you’ll confront him with that anger. But if you think that the King does not even value what you say, then surely going to him is a waste of time, right? 

Anyway, as I speak to you, God and I aren’t besties, we are like the couple I mentioned above agreeing to go to therapy while starting afresh. 

But I’ve learnt a few things, specifically about my walk with God while in this cave underwater. 

 God always answers my prayers. Just not the way I expected

I was just thinking about it yesterday, that there was a time I looked at my life, looked at God’s word and realised that my inside there( my belief system, thoughts, values, etc), didn’t go hand in hand. That was like 2 months ago or so. 

So what did I do? I asked God to remove/disrupt the areas of my life that I was comfortable with while they hindered my being His reflection. 

When I was praying that prayer, I didn’t sincerely think much havoc into it. I mean, I desired good things to happen to me, right? The word says a lot of things about “blessed is he who fears the Lord..” And I wanted to be blessed , so it was only fair that I pray that God uproots all things that stood in the way, right? 

Well,  God did hear my prayer. And within a few weeks, my whole life was disrupted. Completely. If my life was a farm, then before I was this unused piece of land, with grass and few trees(kinda looking good if I may add), now, I’m that piece of land that has been worked on by tractors of all kinds and its now looking plantable( not really pleasant to the eye except to people like farmers who know the value of such land). Like my whole life just turned upside down and almost everything I held onto was poured down the river. Before I was broken, now i’m empty. 

I’m not saying God isn’t gentle or kind, I’m just telling you that when you find yourself in the desert wondering how on earth you got yourself there…remember that time you prayed for God to give you an oasis in your life? Surely, you didn’t think He would provide one while you are in a green land full of streams? So God answered your prayer, just not in the way you expected. 

A close friend of mine was telling me that God is full of humor. And it gets so interesting, that for her she finds it very funny( her walk with God that is). Well as for me, I haven’t yet reached that point, I’m at that point when someone makes a joke at your expense, you know its really funny, and the laughter is threatening to spill out, but you still struggle to stay mad, knowing sooner or later you’ll bust out laughing. 

Don’t worry if you don’t see the jokes in your circumstances and the aim of God putting you through all that. Years from now you will, and I will hope to hear about it. 

God is faithful

You see, just because I became unfaithful didn’t change God. Or his feelings towards me. He still remained the same. He still was there; whether I felt it or not. He is still good to me;even when my situation differed completely with this fact. I don’t know how to explain this further. But if there is an attribute of God I can personally vouch for; its this. I don’t need verses to remind myself of this fact. I only need to look at my life. 

Its okay to not be okay with God

I know the above sounds controversial especially to church people. But really, its okay. I don’t remember how many times I lied to my friend that my spiritual walk was good. But she saw right through it and called it out on me. You see, just because I read the word and prayed everyday, didn’t mean things were okay. There are many times I’ve talked to my parents and friends when our relationship wasn’t okay. 

And its okay. Its okay to admit to yourself that the boat you and God were in, is slowly sinking. Or water is getting in. 

You see all those doubts or feelings we suppress about God hoping our devotional time will straighten them out? Imagine they only grow bigger. The more we avoid facing uncomfortable thoughts that we have toward God, the more the cracks in the relationship widen. And I’m very good at that. Being non confrontational that is. Hoping things will sort themselves out. They never do. Experience has taught me that. So slowly by slowly, I’m learning that looking God in the face and calling Him bad doesn’t make him bad. It makes him seat my ass down and we talk about it. 

But not dealing with the not okay relationship with God will actually make your boat sink. No one seats while watching a boat get filled with water. People scoop it out, others call for backup from other fishermen. Point is, do something about it.

 Even if its just asking God to help. That’s what I did. I had no strength to sijui figure it out or something. I only asked for help. My boat sank, incase you are wondering what happened( hehe;). But neither did I or God sink along with it ( told you God answers my prayers, just not what I expected). 

My final point, God is the God of the valley and the hills. There is a song by the way about this. I think its title is something like ” God of the hills and valley” but seeing how bad I am with titles and names, just search for it on YouTube. 

Otherwise, what do you wish you knew during your wilderness moments? Like what advice would you have wanted to have been given during the hard times in life? 

Of tough times and healing..

Dear younger me, I write this letter to warn you of tough times ahead. Of things no one tells you at your age. Not to scare you but to prepare you. For I know how much you hate spontaneity(unless its an adventure; duh!)

They tell you that being out of your parent’s care and support is the hardest thing you’ll experience after high school. That being provided for is heaven compared to providing for yourself. Well that’s true. 

But there is something harder than growing up itself. 

Healing. And that’s not the worst part, healing is a must. To live you must heal. I hear you asking me what you are healing from. From everything my dear. 

Healing from the scars caused by those supposed to have protected you from scars in the first place. Your family will hurt you. But more so your mother. And unless you heal from her wounds, you’ll end up causing more people harm. 

Healing will require you to open up those wounds all over again. All those hurtful words they told you over and over again. All those actions that got you feeling unwanted. All of them. And nothing hurts more than relieving pain. 

You’ll try and avoid it at first. See if you can live with the pain. But when that refuses to work, you’ll have no choice but to start the healing process. To open up the pus-oozing scars, to scrub them clean with pain-inducing drugs and to finally patch it up. That will feel like death. 

And just when you thought that after healing comes bliss, you’ll be shocked. After healing comes more healing. Its like never ending surgeries. And each one will be worst than the other. More painful. More earth shattering. And no, one never gets used to it. 

But something harder than that is starting anew all the time. You see, after healing comes new belief systems you must adapt, new truths you must remember. Sometimes even new friends. 

And all that newness means the old must go. Because new wine can’t be put into old wineskin. Your healed self can’t think and feel like the old self. It will need adjustments into your heart and head. Change is inevitable. But that doesn’t make it any easier to adapt to. And  just when you thought you have now arrived into a ‘workable’ you, you’ll start a new healing process restarting the whole damn cycle again. 

I won’t start telling you how it will be worth it. Because when you are in the middle of it, worth will be the last thing in your head. When you are busy running away from issues you are supposed to deal with, whether it will be worth it won’t cross your brain. And even when you stop to deal with it, the pain and anguish doesn’t share space with thoughts of what next. 

I won’t tell you to hold on there when the time comes. You won’t have the strength to. 

I won’t tell you to pray. Neither will you have the strength nor words to. 

But that doesn’t mean that God won’t come down to your level. Sometimes in the form of a song that tears you up. 

Other times in the form of that friend that just can’t let you give up on yourself. 

Brace yourself sweetheart for tough times ahead. Growing up is hard, but staying grown up is harder. 

One day I will write about this place..

One day I will write about this place. 

I will try as much as possible to describe its indescribable nature. 

The way it comforts one while beating them up. I heard rats do that. They bite you and then blow some air there so as to sooth you lest you feel pain and swat them away. But anyway, there are no rats here. 

Just silence and myself. 

And on that day, I will tell of the isolation here. You see, there are days when silence is medicine. Like when silence is actually appreciated and bears fruits. When silence and calmness and peace are almost synonyms. 

But not in this place. The silence here is so loud that I wish for noise. I who enjoys solitude so much have been driven mad by this silence. It taunts me. It holds dancing festivals in my mind during the day when I’m surrounded by human beings. It camps and lights a bonfire at night when I thought it would give me a break. It reminds me that when all is said and done, inside there I’m alone. And no one, not even God, is getting through that deafening silence. 

And hopefully when I write about this place, I will capture like a good picture, how thoughts are futile here. You think and think. And think some more. But for once in my life, thinking doesn’t result to anything. 

In this place thoughts are like meaningless words on a book. Your eyes glance over them but they don’t register in your head. They make no difference. They add nothing nor remove anything. In some other places that life has taken me, thinking led to worrying, in yet others, thinking led to solutions. But in this place, thinking is a futile process. 

When I say one day I will write about this place, its because I hope by then i’ll not be here still. Writing involves a reader and a writer. Its a communal activity. This place reeks of isolation. It reminds me of a quarantine. I don’t know whether i was bad for the world or the world was bad for me, but all the same, I found myself in this isolated place alone. 

One sees no end to this place. It has no beginning nor an end. It looks like a desert. Or an ocean. But when you are in the middle of it and have no idea which way is out. 

And unlike other places, one just can’t get used to this place. Why? Nothing works to your advantage. I’ve been to places where even pain worked to my advantage. Here, everything is a potential enemy. It bites you when it feels like. But all elements here prefer silent treatment. Like they won’t hurt, but they won’t keep company either. 

In this place, one feels as if they are in water, they are not drowning yet, but neither are they floating. One is just flailing their arms. It feels lethargic. Like every movement costs energy. But no progress is made. So sitting looks like a better alternative. Just to sit and get haunted by the silence here that one goes back to trying something. Anything. It doesn’t work. So one sits. That doesn’t work too. And the cycle continues. 

And I hope that on that day when I write about this place, that writing shall exorcise all things associated with this place out of me. There are places I happily keep memories of. Others where I still keep those memories, but not necessarily happily, to remind me how far I’ve come in life. Some places get forgotten just to be opened once in a while when I take a walk down the memory lane.

But this place will get none of that. Or at least I hope to forget with every cell in me that I was ever a sojourner here. If it was possible I would burn it down when I get out. But remember it has no beginning and seemingly no end? So for once i’ll pray that my amnesia does what it does but at the right time and to the right things this time round.

But should you ever find yourself in this place, don’t worry I’m not going to give you advice. I mean, nothing works here anyway. But should life decide to give you a dose of this place, please write about it if you write. Sing about it if you sing. Document it for those who’ve never travelled to this sides to get a glimpse of what this place looks like. 

But I sure do hope against hope, that one day will write about this place.