Prayer changes the mundane…

Yes… I pray. Oh Jesus. I pray. Tehehe, and this is an example of when I prayed and I did not get my answer exactly they way I demanded of God.

If you are in Kampala, you know of the rains that darken the skies whenever they please. I remember getting off my desk at 3pm and seeing the skyline – noticing the dark tell-tale signs of the impending downpour.

Refusing to be deterred, I resolved to leave at 5pm, rain or not. It started at 4pm. You know that teasing rain, where you get to the door because you think it has stopped only for it to increase it’s intensity as soon as your foot hits the gravel. Opening my umbrella, I started praying – they say we have dominion – so I should be able to shut these cloud up, right? Meh! It felt like someone was playing with the rain switch. I finally manage to cross the area notorious for flooding without too much incidence. Soon as I hopped into the taxi – Boom! With such a fury, the drops pelleted at the taxi roof.

I started praying again. I just needed to get to town before 6, it was 5.15. The shop closed at 6. There is no other shop in Kampala with the same quality thread (wuzi). **Back track** crocheting is a hobby of mine and a friend needed a beret for herself and for her son. I had made up my mind that if I do not get the thread, I would not have another opportunity to.

**Back to the journey** We are now at former Steers and there is just no where to go. We sat for a good twenty minutes. The rain was still falling with fierce rhythm. ‘Prayer is not helping,’ I started thinking to myself. So I began to make peace with the fact that the evening was not going to turn out exactly as I had hoped. Nevertheless, I continued to pray. 5.40. We start to move. The taxi got to Watoto Church at 5.50, I jumped out (literally) and started the leaping-hopping-running to the shop. It is on Sure House.

“Sorry, we are closed”

I was like No. No. No.

I knocked, lol! The place looked empty but the light was still on. I saw I head bob up and motion me to the sign. I was like. Wah! I prayed. I ran. Kirabo, don’t run. I made a pleading sign and refused to budge. She kept motioning me away, till I guess she figured, easier to just open the door. Tehehe, I was smiling and thanking her profusely. Apologising and talking a mile a minute, while my hands were shaking from all the adrenaline.

It was 5.55.

Sadly, more often than not, our prayers seem to hit a brick wall and bounce back at us. Unless you are hardcore mature supernatural, the process often leaves you broken, drained and discouraged about trying again. But then… the sun still rises the next day, your lungs still take breathe and your eyes still open – despite your heavy heart. Remember to take heart as you see that sun, as you draw breath – Remember, your prayers never fall on deaf ears. For if our spiritual eyes were opened, we would see what was truly going on.

He listens. He answers.

Change your focus.

PS: Images Source – Google


such unlikely compassion…

Compassion. I feel like this is often misunderstood to be love. When you show compassion for someone and then suddenly the whole world starts deep thinking and then before you know it…


This is not where I intended to go. Okay, Kirabo – let’s try this again.


 sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others.

Synonyms include empathy – which is the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. Compassion is not a word that I use often but lately it is one that has been making rounds in my head. First time it did, I shook it off the way a write shakes off a dead-end one-liner. Tehehe, I just completely made that up – Lol!

Today, I was presented with the same situation and I feel compelled to write about it.

It was 1.40pm – I had just finished the last of my errands before the glorious wedding that is tomorrow (again, it is not me that is getting married – it is my Rebecca. My sweet little girl. Gone. Just like that.). Then I saw it. Rain. Falling. Why me Lord. Why? Like what did I ever do to you?

Yes, I have melodramatic moments with the commander of the heavenly forces. He is into me like that.

ANYWAY, meh! My digressing gene is on a roll today. Back to the story, I run to SAS clinic because I feel more confident crossing the road from there, luckily a Jinja road taxi is waiting for me. So hope-skip-step-run and I am standing in front of the taxi wondering – there is no way I can jump that puddle (In one of the more recent hailstorms in the city, I learned that my muscles aren’t as strong as I thought they were. Tried to jump a puddle infront of City Oil Kamwokya and almost landed on my knees. The process not falling hurt so bad, kindda wish I had just fallen).

The conductor quickly figured it out and asked the driver to get onto the pavement so I could enter. So he did and onto the taxi I hoped. As we drew closer to Shell Capital, several of the commuters were impatiently demanding to get off the taxi – I wondered why? It was pouring. The conductor calmly told them he was looking for a dry spot for them.

So through the furiously pouring rain we drove, often driving through petrol stations looking for commuters. Then it got to my spot. Centenary Park. Those of you who just gasped you know. Y’all don’t get it. The water that had collected there was knee deep. KNEE DEEP. At the Airtel tower, cars were crawling, one motorcycle that had parked on the side was being swept away but the water. My mouth was open, I looked through the windshield and this was the same situation all along the road ahead as well.

The driver drove through the water and as soon as we were a little passed it, we all began to breath a little. Now, I needed to get out. So I alert the conductor, and they all start looking. Honestly, even the next stage was water, they asked if I was going to UMI, I lied, said yes – they parked at the gate.

This is the second time I have seen our Ugandans in the transport service show concern. The first time was also during a storm.

It is almost as if rain brings out the oneness in us.

PS: Kuzeec, that title is intentional. I am choosing to copy skaheru.

For the love of that giddy feeling

As I mentioned before… the introverted quagmire (This is such a peculiar word – I thought it was Ugandan English and not actual formal English) that I am happens to like change. Sometimes. And gifts – Lol! And new things. Like moving to a new office. The smell of new paint. The aluminium smell of an ice cold MacBook.

Gwash! I have completely lost my train of thought. Hahaha.

We are in the process of transitioning to a new office and I have to say – I am in love with the layout and design of the new office. I mean. You know those office design type places that you only thinking you will find on Google. Or when you boss asks for office layout ideas, you run off to Pinterest and immerse yourself in hours upon hours of double tapping.

You see, I wasn’t exactly looking for employment so close to returning home. Rather ashamed to admit, I was planning on laying low till January, doing nothing in particular but good old unemployment. Yes. My level of zero focus amazes me as well. However, my affinity for laziness will be a post for another day. I remember one random afternoon in Pitt, finding this link on (Yes, Ugandan companies can also post here) – to this company. The job description looked interesting so I thought, why not? It’s close to home. They are working to improve livelihoods. Why not?

Then I show up at the office. The garden hit me. I was like wow! Lol! Then the most interesting encounter for a type A introvert (No, we don’t have types, I just made that up – tehehe). The lady at the reception smiled at me, gave me a warm welcome & engaged in conversation. I died. I started trying to remember if I had met her somewhere. Racking my brain for her name but kept coming up blank.

Then my interviewer showed up and I was like yep… I think I would work here. Why you ask? He was wearing shorts. Any place that allows you to wear shorts to work goes to the tope of the pile in my book. Interview went well – then came the technical part. Programming. Python. Kirabo’s actual experience level: -1/100. Good old Google and YouTube showed up – but still, there were some questions that forging was just out of the question.

When I did get the offer – it wasn’t glorious. It wasn’t in butala – it was an internship position with maybe the promise of employment depending on performance.

Now, if you don’t remember, let me remind you – I was valedictorian of my class. Not sure what that means?

 a student, typically having the highest academic achievements of the class, who delivers the valedictory at a graduation ceremony.

Yes, complete with a speech on two YouTube channels… and they gave me an internship. Maybe you do not understand – this is not an undergraduate degree, it is a graduate degree – a whole Master of Science. “Iwe mwana, do they know who I am” speech began to play out.

That is when I caught myself, first off – it was a programming position – purely programming. My experience outside of school, only went as far as front end web development. A purely programming position would be a dream come true as it was on my bucket list. Plus… shorts. Remember the shorts… Yes.

So I cut me a slice of the ‘pie’ and showed up the next week. It’s been a learning experience ever since. From working with a team that believes in me more than I do myself, to opening up PyCharm and wondering where I am going to start from – absolutely clueless as to how to solve a problem. Only to look up four hours later realise, ‘Oh! That was it?’.

A couple of weeks later I was offered a full time position as a software developer – can you believe it. Me. Writing code. Full time. Yes, I accepted – #Hi5TeamShorts. Now, we are moving into a new office and below is going to be my view…

IMG_1211 (1)
Photo Credit: Kirabo Byabashaija

That view reminded me of a prayer I made. A rather unserious prayer. Please don’t judge me. Lol! So I prayed for a job, yes I had a vague generic description of what I wanted to do. A combination of Machine Learning and Software Engineering. Then I also prayed for coloured seats at the office… Like you know those offices with different types of furniture… Coloured sofa seats…. I asked for orange specifically.

My first seat during internship was an orange sofa.

Sometimes, we knock things off or snob them just because they are packaged differently. There was never 100% certainty that the job would result in a full time position – Both the company and I took a gamble in each other. Is this where I see myself until the ever after – Haha, I don’t know.

What I have learned is that God has a very unique sense of humour. He adores it when he surprises me – especially in the moments when I think he wasn’t listening.

For now – I shall accept the shorts and orange sofa and the bewildered expression at the beginning of every week.

For where is the excitement in living, if you must have every single detail figured out…

Oh, what a day!

Oh What a day!!

This Monday has been like no other. It’s the aftermath of #UgBlogWeek, there is a silent calm that has taken over the timeline. I have spent the day dividing my attention between multiple things. The upcoming wedding on Saturday. The last tweets from UGBlogWeek. The work bug that left me confused. Running up and down in town doing the last fitting for my dress. No. It is not my wedding. It’s just that for the first time, I wanted to do something different. All my current dresses have featured in almost all wedding albums. With some albums containing the same dress. No. There is nothing wrong with the that using the same dress – but sometimes, you just want ko a change.

So yes, my lunch time was filled between the tailors changing room and a green plastic stool waiting for the adjustments to be made. Then running between Avemar and that complex next to Namaganda – below Radio One. So glad that the dress is finally done – Now onto jewellery… Where does one start.

Now I am seated next to my mom, watching CCTV. I used to think that CCTV was the surveillance system that was used in movies but I digress. Ever since my daddy passed, I have made it a point to get out of myself. I shall explain, before the English nazis attack. You see my dad and I were peas in a pod. We would seat in total silence in each other’s presence and we would be fine. My Mum on the other hand, would look in bewilderment, lol! Like what is wrong with these housemates of mine, she would lament. She would start speaking, we would listen to her on and off – switching between her and tennis. Answering whenever was appropriate. We had learned the cues – Him and I. Tehehe… But there were days she would win hands down – the days when there was no power or DSTV was off. When I went away to school my loner gene was semi intensified, those early days when I had just returned. I would hardly ever leave my room unless I had to leave the house which was never.

I felt guilty eventually – and now started forcing myself to sit in the same space as her. Whether it is at the dining table or the sitting room. I shall be present and not the tag team half eared present that my dad and I played so well, but physically involved in asking questions and earnestly listening.

What I find really fascinating – that enigma I mentioned yesterday – is, in the presence of my close friends that recessive gene that I inherited from my mom. The one of chief host, life of the party shows up. I am chatting. Talking louder than I should. Laughing till my chest hurts. Just ask those who were at the wedding meeting a few weeks ago. It’s actually fun.

Being me that is.

This post really had no direction to begin with. Take a chill pill and relax. It is Monday.