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I will make it come rain come sunshine

Dear pen, take me to this lands planted in my brain by the images I have seen on TV and in magazines. Elevate me and let me feel the breeze that a prisoner feels when he walks out of the walls of prison as a freeman. Bring me that joy that seduces the pain of labour by hearing the beautiful cry of a new born baby. Because I find the world as bitter as bile; I can’t do without it yet again, I cannot explain why it is such a poisonous gift.

Sir Winston Churchill said, “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life but what we give.”

I have tried my best to live in this lines but the dark side of life or rather people greedily swallows my kindness. Because every time I stretch my hand out to help, I get a terrible bee sting; sometimes I have to admit that the very people you help are the same ones who want to see you fail. It is a terrible thing to think about. The first time Anita stepped into my house, she frowned, “Why don’t you have a carpet?” were her sentiments. “You don’t have this, you don’t have that, and your boyfriend is a smoker! I cannot stand smokers!” that was what followed next. I ignored all this because I did not think that they mattered, I believed that she expressed herself with no bad intentions and that was just her.

Anita was always negative, nothing she said to me was positive. For a long while as a friend I followed what she said. All I needed was advice good or bad it didn’t matter, I craved for it like a hungry child for a full breast.

It is now that I have learnt that words really go a long way; they say that sticks and stones may hurt bones but words break the spirit and terrify the soul. For it is only with words that one can make or break a man. I doubt Anita knew this.

Words burn, words heal, words kill and words create
Words can burn the soul and drive it to hell
Words can bring the glory of God down
Words bring hope and light a spark
Words are weapons concealed in the flower of life

Every step of life is important because if it is not an experience it is a memory. Memories are like parasites, cockroaches you can never get rid of them. They have a way of squeezing themselves through any crack of the mind. Sometimes when I think of my life I smile because of joy, feel embarrassed over a certain moment or cry because someone left a hole that still hurts in my life. Through the steps we meet people, as said for a reason a season or a lifetime where each encounter should be sacred.

Reason, season or lifetime the people we share our lives with give us the environment to become who we are today. They influence the way we walk, talk, dance and even what we eat. God must have put people like Anita in my life to help me fight the limits that I never thought existed. I have held a crocodile by its mouth trying to get to here, and I am not there yet. From days when my parents thought that poetry shows were a waste of time to days when I get calls thanking me for encouragement. Sometimes we have to create our own words, our own limits despite what people tell us.

I believe that the best gift for self is to believe in your own potential. Whether you decide to measure this potential by what others have achieved or to measure it by what you know you can achieve is totally up to you. No one should measure or determine your limits, so fly and fly high.

Fly high and disappear in the clouds! The only hear these words, “I will make it come rain come sunshine!”

© Namatsi Lukoye

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I pledge my loyalty to the President
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My life, strength and service
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and perpetuated in the
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Look at you... finding your way into a love story! Well then buckle up!
A couple of months ago I was burning every thought of love from my space and life because I had stopped believing in it. I actually hated that word. Someone would say it to me and I would totally flip out concluding the story with, 'the world is too fake to figure out what love is!' My friends would introduce me to new people, or encourage me join dating sites – but I always felt so desperate doing this! People were just shallow! My poems turned dark – they focused more on pain and I would define pain so beautifully you would want to marry it! I look back and cannot believe I gave too much of my time on the darkness.
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