The Unknown Plague

Aya! I am still here. I am still alive. I am still on a high. Haha, Yes – seems I have still got that indescribable ish scribbled all over my soul.
(Did you see what I did there with the bibls? ).

Okay, Kirabo – Focus!

Have you heard of the graph effect?


That visualization is basically how people in the behind the scenes describe a Social Network. You are connected to one person, who is connected to someone else, who you now become connected to through that one person? Makes sense?

Well, this is also how my brain works (weirdo alert). Where the data points are significant events and whenever I look back they are all connected. This perception has seeped into my storytelling – both vocal and written.

Telling a story is hard, because I feel I need to first catch you up on the background of events… Now, the absolutely utterly incredible thing is… My attention span is weak and needs to actively be restarted.

No. Seriously, I zone out a LOT!! I am actually thinking of playing chess again to exercise that attention muscle. (Do you play chess? I am interested in playing – online or at a meet).

Back to the looking-back-and-connect-the-dots effect, I find myself taken back whenever I am faced with the question of ‘what next?‘ It doesn’t matter the context – work, church, personally, food (Bwahaha, I lie! I have a food plan!).

I looove to be prepared, but I have learned that my preparation, often makes God look at me and smile, probably saying, ‘Aww… how cute.’ Our dots are often so far from each other that I am slowly learning to just let go of the reigns more and more every day. That is why that question is so hard for me…

I am often fond of saying, ‘Lol! Honestly, I do not know. I wish I did, but I don’t’

What is next in my career?
What is next in my life now that I have hit that earth shattering age in which universes collide leading to fragmented thinking (Tihihihi, I exaggerate – deal with it, hun)?
What is next now that my nephew looks sooooooo cute?
What is next now that le former crush knows that he was once le crush – apparently this is the way to effectively rid yourself of the crush. So brutal mehn, but very effective.

I have gone on a rabbit trail, haven’t I?

I have hopes about the ‘what nexts’, I have fears about the ‘what nexts’ but the truth is my look-back-and-connect-the-dots view has not only made my conversation skills awkward (like a geek needs more social ineptness) but it has also brought to the forefront that fact that an intricate thread does exist.

A thread that tells of the faithfulness of a strategic commander-in-chief whose infinite wisdom has saved me from the brink of sudden destruction and distraction. Who has commanded the massive angelic army to come to my aide as I lay puddled on the floor. By whose word, life springs forth and yet sends me a gentle whisper every morning to wake me.

Yet, on this 19th day of this beautiful month, I feel that I have let him down. I have found myself lost in the busyness and excitement of my life that I have forgotten who has tenderly courted and danced with me in the stillness of the night.

With a lump in my throat, I pledge to return: to the heart that has consistently sought me out of the mire that is sometimes used to describe my existence.

I am yours, Abba.
Help me maintain!


*Images source: Google Images*

the girl in the red scarf.

“Come Come. Sit. Find a place. Sit.” she urged. “Today, I want to tell you a story. It is a story unlike one that you have heard before.”

We sat. Intrigued and excited. She told the best stories anyway, and since we were pretty much fed up with each other, we were willing to sit and listen to this story.

“Ah!” She began – gleam in her eye and a slightly crooked smile on her lips. “I wish you could have seen her. She was a friend to all of us but an envy of many – it was hard not to envy her really. She seemed to have it all.”

“Her smile. It told of that bitter sweet pain. That deep maturity that came with knowing great sadness. It also told of a certain cheekiness that teased whoever was willing to stay long enough to engage. She tilted her head to the left, her hand under her chin and smiled at me. I wondered what was going on in her head, would she let me in because I had spent the last hour talking incessantly about myself and I heard scarcely heard a thing from her.

You see, Kush was like that. Always the friend willing to hear you out. Always the friend with an answer – be it easy or not. I often wondered if she had anyone she was reaching out to. Anyone who she opened up to. She was also a strange one, our Kush… She had an animals nose – she could smell funk from a mile a way and boy did she not like it. She had nothing against the people – she just wished people would give out deodorant more than they do sugar.

Kush looked good in almost anything. and I mean anything, there is a certain way that she wore things and the rest of the world did it’s best to complement her… Even dull colors looked good on her. All colors really. Especially red. She had that red scarf. she wore it in two circles around her neck. It’s not just that heads turned whenever she wore it, it’s that – she loved the feeling she got when she wore it.

She never bought it for herself. Red wasn’t even a color that she loved – actually she didn’t like red much until a couple of years ago. Now red was a color she went to for certain things – recently when she saw the scarf in the store – she just knew.

She picked two and walked away from the store.

That is when the adventure began.”