Tell Him...

Its 12:15pm and I am at a complete road block in my essay. suddenly, true to its nature, my itunes throws a JAM my way.. Not a jam.. But a JAAAMM..Lauryn Hill’s “Tell Him”

... And the words..Lord the WORDS... (sigh) 


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIgDtNM4Sg8
You see, I love it when words to songs burst to life as they touch my ears...when I start to listen with my spiritual ears.
So as I sang along in that out-of-tune way my poor sister hates so much...I began to feel the urge worship my God. So I picked up my pen and just started writing. I wrote down the words of the song and allowed each word to become my prayer...

“TELL HIM ... Let me be Patient, Let me be kind,Make me unselfish..
without being blind,
though I may suffer,
I’ll envy it it not
and endure what comes
cause He is all that I got

I gotta tell him 

...And tell Him I NEED Him,tell him I LOVE him and it will be alright...
Now I may have faith
to make mountains fall,
but if I lack love..
then I have nothing at all.
I can give away,EVERYTHING I posses
but if I am without love then I have no happiness.
I know I am imperfect 

and not without sin but now that I am older all childish things behind me...

I’ll be too jealous, No. I wont be too proud,
because love is not boastful, No. love is not loud,
tell him I need him tell him I love him,
everything is going to be alright.

...You see, call me slow... But it was only after I got to the end of the song that I suddenly realised I had just written out ...1 Chorintians 13... (yes people am talking about the Bible)..Lauryn Hill, (bless her soul), wrote a song from one of the most beautiful chapters in the Bible.

So I rushed to my blog ..because I needed to shout and tell somebody.. “Holy Holy Holy God’s Word (like God himself) is ALIVE...and there is nowhere you can go,absolutely NO situation in your life where it will cease to be True, Relevant and ready to Heal you” 


So“Tell him”... 


... "TELL  Him" friend...

I Free Myself...

A tribute to the friends, family, strangers, acquaintances, authors, writers and pastors that have made it part of their life’s purpose and taken time to constantly remind,show and make me feel that I am bloody  worth it.

‘Sometimes when you are lost all you need is for someone to care enough to tell you that you are worth it’

I don’t think there is one way to actually be lost, so unlike my lecturers I won’t delve and expound on all the theories and philosophies of what it is for ‘one to be truly lost’..cause..errmmm... Quite frankly, I cannot.

HOWEVER I will say this:


We have ALL been, are, or will find ourselves in a moment in life where we are completely, utterly and wholly lost. Yes, however you wanna put it... lost in love, lost.com, lost in the city, lost at life, lost for sale, lost careers, lostest...(and if you are anything like me  ALL of these sound familiar or even worse make sense..then you know you gone done it..lol)... either way, you will find in those moments that certain emotions, thoughts and feelings are a prerequisite:

Firstly, there is that awful feeling at the pit of your stomach, letting you know, just incase you forgot, that something is SERIOUSLY wrong while at the same time your mind is running a constant ‘its not gonna end’ siren. Then there is that feeling of shere dread that one can only associate with going shopping with £50 to buy a £100 shoe.. no matter how you spin it, you are STILL going to come up short. And who can forget that constant overwhelming fear that this moment has become the permanent residence of your life and it just happened to shack up with your worst nightmare (like really aren’t there other less traumatising nightmares it could have picked). Anyway either way, the grief is the same, the dread is the same, the hopelessness is the same, that out of control feeling is the same, the steady-spinning-downward-spiral feeling is the same, the silent suffering, the quiet tears (or the loud), the dark, the cold, the even colder sweats you wake up in, the panic, the loneliness, the questioning and the doubting of self... No matter, the language, the nationality, the gender of your ‘lost’ ..it..is..all..the..same... You’re stuck in a place, you probably brought yourself, with no control, and there is clearly no way out or even the possibility of an end.

Well, I have been lost so many times that I am making an attempt to make myself a template for recovery. I have come to the realisation that I am not sleeping beauty...(damnit)..there will be no prince charming in shining armor to come find me and spin my life into perfection with a kiss..(sigh).. Even if there was am sure in my time of despair he might as well be an ogre because nothing is good enough when you are lost, no one is good enough, no one can help, neither can you help anyone. Life purposes and destinies can’t be realized or talents used when you are lost. Lost is that state of personal limbo! (however if the real sleeping beauty stumbles upon this.. ‘Girl I am so sorry..Ermm..Bambi,  am sure he is coming’ * looks down awkwardly * )...I have therefore turned to self help so here goes my...

5 things I want to remember when I am lost:


1) I once had a friend, who when I walked into the room...gasped like she had been hit by a beam of sunshine, burst into a heartbreaking smile and called me ‘beautiful’...I don’t mind if its not true...in that moment someone truly believed it...she must have thought I was worth it.

2)I remember once when my life was literally ending (at least it felt like it was), I had a friend look at me looking at her like I really didn’t mind...yet  she got up like HER world was the one falling apart,  put on a cloak and made it her personal mission to save me and became my superman.. She must have thought I had a life worth saving

3)There was this one time, I sat down to tell my mum I had a crush on my ex, you know giggling the way only two girls sharing a secret can. She patiently listened to me go on and on about how ‘delicious’ he was looking and how I might just have to ‘throw him in the bag’ AGAIN (occasionally bursting into laughter at her clearly wayward daughter) She must have heard something I didn’t say because I don’t know why else she would turn to me...in that quiet, graceful way of hers that forces anyone who is listening to believe that everything pouring out of her mouth is FACT not fiction and said “but chisanga..you’re a beautiful, intelligent, strong and kind woman..you have unbelievable options ahead of you”! She must have thought it was somehow necessary in that moment to remind me I had a value that I was somehow forgetting or letting go. She must have thought I was worth more than I was remembering.

4)There is this one guy...i think of him often...he fed me, clothed me, put a secure roof over my head, loved me, planned and diligently worked for a future with me in mind even before I knew I had one of my own, let alone how to spell it. Funny that he did all this long before I even knew what to call him..over the years I decided I’d call him ‘Daddy’..to this day I still don’t know how much the debt he never wants me to pay back is worth..he must have known I would grow up to be stubborn so he decided to tell me am worth it in a way that is  permanent and where the evidence could never be erased..to this day I promise you, you cannot convince me otherwise

5)I remember this one day, nothing special about it except that I once again woke up to see the sun. I decided to take V up on her recommendation to listen to Mary J Blige..settled on ‘Each tear’... I don’t remember the lyrics of course because I never do except so as usual I settled on remembering the chorus and the bridge:
 ‘Each tear there’s a lesson,
makes you wiser than before,
makes you stronger than you know
and each tear brings you closer to your dreams, ‘
* then screaming *
“ you are much more than the struggle that you go through,
you’re not defined by your pain..
so let it go,
you’re not a victim!
you’re more like a winner,
and you’re not in defeat, you’re more like a queen..”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xvash3C5G9c&ob=av2e

6) I remember a God who thought I was worth creating "You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous – how well I know it.
You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.

How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered!” (Ps. 139:13-17)...who am I to treat myself like I’m not


I know you’re lost...

But there has to be SOMETHING you can remember

A memory, an emotion, a word, a friend, a love..

The map to the somewhere where you’re just not so lost anymore..a place that reminds you ..that you are worth more than the pain, the confusion, the misery, the hopelessness, the confusion and the grief you are in

There just HAS to be a place, a person, a memory, a word or a God that created you, or at least one that died for you... that reminds you that you are worth it!

I pray that your prayer may be the lyrics to one of my favorite Hillsong song: ‘Awakening’

“In our hearts Lord...awakening..
For you and you alone awake my soul...
For the world you love, your will be done, let yiur will be done in me.”

So that ...

“like the rising sun that shines,
(awake my soul)
from the darkness comes a light,
(awake my soul)
I hear your voice say this is my....
AWAKENING....”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AmvyGu1WeA

Issues! or Issues?

Sometimes...its okay .... to Let. It. GO.

I have a friend who once told me... 'Relationships aren’t hotels.. You can’t just check in and out of them whenever you want'.

I wish she had told me earlier.

So often we behave as though we have unlimited access to people’s lives as though, like a hotel we have paid for, they have the privilege of having us in their lives. As a result, more often than not, we threaten to take that ‘privilege’ away, or never let them forget that we can or (the more daring amongst us) revoke it away all together.

For me, more times than not, like my subscription to the gym, I have QUICKLY withdrawn myself from a relationship. Somehow, I managed to come to the conclusion that my 'sacrifice' will fulfill some good and noble end that will leave both of us somehow ‘better off’.  However, this time around I got a ‘you have issues’ response to my version of Leonardo Decaprio’s romantic SUICIDE in the titanic for his beloved ‘Rose’(I have clearly EXHAUSTED that movie). The statement was quite harmless really, in fact I found it quite amusing (mainly because I agreed WHOLEHEARTEDLY) but still there was something raw and unexpectedly tragic about hearing those words from a person I have come to care for beyond measure that had my subconscious reciting rules of combat: ‘the best defence is a good offence’. But something kept my mouth shut. Instead of firing a few ‘playful’  canons of my own (it wouldn’t have taken me long to find a few) I gracefully accepted the ‘light hearted’ ridicule.

Why?

Because sometimes when we choose to walk out of someone’s life whether our intentions are the utmost purest, while we have gone off diligently executing our 180 degree turn, getting high off our revelation, having our SOS prayers to God answered, our ‘issues’ straightened out,  hearts changed..We do in fact change... But the other person, you know, the one you chose to leave behind during your version of ‘eat, pray, love’ ... Is stuck in the moment where you hurt them. Since they weren’t invited on your ‘members only’ journey why should we expect a heroes welcome when we decide we are ‘whole’ enough to re-enter or at least pass-by their lives.
We cannot choose how people will cope with the wounds, bruises, cracks and heart breaks we inflict on them. That is ENTIRELY up to them. So if you don’t want to return to the horror that is a battlefield of carcasses YOU left behind don’t bruise an ego, don’t break a heart or alter a soul. Just don’t. You can't cross a bridge you burnt!

So once again what do you do when that person is referring to you as though you are still the same person you were before you made your dramatic exit? What do you do when your gut is screaming for you to defend your ‘honour’ and to speak of your change, to share of its joys and your brand new enlightened state?

I don’t know about you but I swallowed it...ALL.. And (quite) gracefully laughed.

Because although God answered my SOS plea, although the things that were issues just aren’t issues anymore, and even though I received my miracle, my relationship wrap sheet with this person has ‘repeat offender’ written all over it. Reputations, after all, are not built from words so what could I have said that would have been of worth to them and assured them its not the same, I’M not the same?....Nothing. I hung up and prayed, that someone else would be ALL the things to that person that I failed to be and more.

Its hard, but sometimes we just have to accept that the people that DESERVE to experience and enjoy the full extent of our change are, unfortunately, the ones that probably never will.


Like I said, I have a friend who once told me... 'Relationships aren’t hotels.. You can’t just check in and out of them whenever you want'.



I wish she had told me earlier

S.E.X *whispers*

Disclaimer: I am NOT in an way, shape or form an expert in sexuality, a psychiatrist, some kind of love doctor or guru etc etc... neither am I claiming to be. I am however exerting my constitutional right prevalent in most jurisdictions excluding the obvious culprits of non compliance to international law *cough North Korea * (lol)... This is a compilation of opinions so please feel free to agree, disagree or agree to disagree.

Okay so lets all be clear what we are talking about here.

Unfortunately there isn’t really a universal consensus on what term BEST describes ‘the deed’. Yes the scientists have created some fancy shmancy word to call it by as per usual (BLA!), sexual intercourse, but lets be honest here, we don’t really go around blurting that one out in our daily lingo. (Those of you that do am so sorry, forgive me, all am trying to say is, for example, when referring to the roses she just received, a girl won’t usually say ‘oh my, what beautiful Rosa berberifolias my boyfriend just sent me’ now will she...Errm, No). So back to my original point, we create and have created terms for sex that best suit us and whether we realise it or not these terms are reflections of what we PERCEIVE it to be or in simpler terms what it means to us. So some may say ‘making love’, others ‘doing the dirtay’, some prefer shagging, others straffing. I mean just to show you how ‘colorful’ people can be (and for my own entertainment) here are a few ...ermm... interesting ones:
bang – beast – beat cakes – bed – bone – bump uglies – chopped up -cut friends – dance – diddle – dig out – dip (one's) wick – doink  – do the horizontal bop – do the nasty – duke – earn (one's) red wings – friends for cut – frombe – fubb – geit – get guts – get it on – get laid – get lucky – get mounted – get (one's) hump on – get (one's) redwings – get some booty –get some stank on (one's) hang low – give the business -know in the biblical sense –, take old one eye to the optometrist yeah you heard me take old one eye to the optometrist (LOL) and my personal favourite, the happy happy (haha) but DOINK... Really people,???Lets just keep it Biblical and just say Lay because quite frankly some of these *shake my head *. Okay so in short we have VARIETY. But more than that in the different names lies the different ideologies of what sex is or is about – in them I see an array of perceptions ranging from reverent to ‘I could really care less’ attitudes. But more than that, all these quirky names are just a reflection of how we have somehow decided that sex AND all sex talk should be somehow euphemized, hidden in quirky names, or just not spoken about at all. Somehow, especially in churches sex is cast to the shadows or constrained to hideaway hush hush unintelligible whispers when one is in polite company. Of course if its drinks-with-the-boys (or girls) for the rest of us, you might as well bring out the trumpets but otherwise there is still something about sex that makes you cringe when a parent makes that awkward attempt at cautioning and educating you on one or two THINGS. Some of us are even unfortunate enough to turn all sorts of beautiful colours before getting round to uttering the ‘Arrgghh, Mum please STOP!!’. I will not pretend to know what that is all about but if I could fathom a guess, one phrase comes to mind.. ‘you are on Holy ground’...its as though, innately we have a sense of the shear magnitude of intimacy God created sex to have so that we shy away from any invasion of such a sacred gift. I don’t know, just a stray thought after all not many of us shake off our sandals and lay prostrate at its mention. On the contrary, its probably a lot ‘cooler’ to make it sound meaningless.

Anyway with that rather comical background lets get back to the point at hand, a very dear friend of mine, decided that during what has become one of our customary post-meal lazy catch-ups, she would mix things up and vent about some of the FRUSTRATIONS she felt about a comment a certain someone made about a particular breed of person, that contrary to popular belief is not, as of yet, in the extinct/historical archives of sex museums. Yes the Scarlet Letter clearly made a tsunami of a splash but still, allas, the Virgin still lives. For my friend what I guess really upset her was that a MALE friend of hers had had the ‘audacity’ to utter the line ‘ you are naïve if you think you are going to find a guy out there who hasn’t had sex’. Yeah I know sounds like the ‘every guy watches porn speech’ or chris rock ‘they still make you’ jokes alll over again ...BORE!! But before you cast her reaction to exaggeration lets stop and think... Was there really any sort of justification for her to be genuinely upset by this guys remark.(thinking like a lawyer here just go withit) I mean first of all no one wants to be thought of as naiive but more honestly was what he said so bad or so untrue that HE was the one being naiive.

His defence;

Lets face it, we live in an over-sexualised world these days, so much so, that if we are even gonna watch an advert for cat food, chances are, the woman giving the cat its food is going to serve it in a tiny bikini with all the goodies spilling over or at the very least do a seductive ‘purrr’ at the end of the advert as though buying that cat food will somehow unleash your inner she-lion.. (Girl please, just put some clothes on). So yeah, I guess in his defence it can be a little naiive to expect that in light of a world that dedicates about $10-$14 billion anually to porn and in light of what has become an acceptable lackluster sex culture, virgins and crusadors of chastity in general, can easily be seen as irrational beings, imposing unrealistically strict standards on themselves and expecting others to follow.(I mean to him you just wan't to send them the *talk to the hand * BBM smiley)


Taking it further, to him all those preaching all things chastity and virginity not only need to get a serious upgrade but need to get the hell off their little self-created peddle stools, where their choice to commit to this ‘higher standard’ of purity somehow gives them ‘higher ranking’ than those that have ‘chosen’ to ‘throw’ theirs away.
You know, those people who somehow want to think that if God was on earth at that particular moment when they were ‘preserving’ themselves like a can of Heinz baked beans, they would For SURE be in the very short line of people collecting God’s brownie points. And yet boy are they mistaken. It would appear that Mr or Miss holier-than-thou must have never felt the pressures of being in a relationship where sex would be the inevitable next step to showing that much more commitment. Miss holier-than-thou must not have felt the same primal needs everyone else has, they must not have known what it is like to come face to face with the fact that sex may be the only thing that will save the relationship you have FAUGHT tooth and nail for, sex may be only thing keeping the person you desperately love there, just long enough for them to realise they love you too. Miss holier than though doesn’t know how to love or have a little fun and ON TOP of that while she was grooming her self righteous ego he or she must have  skipped over the part in the bible that CLEARY says ‘ALL have sinned and fall short of the Glory of God’. (Romans 3v23) Yes ALL, so maybe he or she needs to go to the mirror, look at the person staring back at them, and accept that includes THAT very person too, them, so that maybe, just MAYBE they can dismount that invisible shiny white horse they have been riding on all this time and realise that it is by ‘FREE  Grace that they are saved and delivered from judgment though faith and this is not of yourselves, it came out NOT through your works but it is of the Gift of God; not because of works least any man should boast (Ephesians 2 v8-9)...

Her defence:



Okay we need to CALM DOWN up in hurrr... Dang! But you get the point. It is easy to believe that some people decide to preserve their chastity because they believe they are somehow they are of a higher moral standard than others. It is easy to throw scripture at them and show them that they too are flawed, and that we are all loved by equal measure before God. It is easy to look at them and think that their reluctance to conform comes from a deep routed selfishness that comes from imposing on others a rigidity and expecting of them a standard that is ‘impossible to attain given the fact that we are Flawed..we make mistakes, we have lapses of judgment and its an imperfect world we live in.
But please lets give her a voice and hear her defence before passing a sentence of naivety selfishness and ignorance. Maybe its something else altogether ...maybe...Lets listen...

I want you to know that you’re the one
No, I NEED you to know, 
YOU are the one
When I say ‘I love you’ I want you to hear more than just the cliché words pouring out of my mouth
I want you to feel a beginning and dream of our forever
When I say I love you, I want you to know I have said it and meant it to a thousand others
But still, 
Even in a thousand others, my athousand 'i love you's' will NEVER mean to them what they mean to you
You'll feel our beginning and be assured of our forever.

When you feel barriers from the mental beatings I took
When you see the scars form the emotional lashes I inflicted on self,
When you walk through the shadows of the pits they kept me in,
When you see stains from mud they dragged me through,
When you taste the humiliation I endured on my lips,
and walk through the tombs they carved out of my tears,
When you mourn the pieces of my heart they broke off without so much as a second glance to see what they left behind
When you hear the words I love YOU strangled in my throat, like barbed wire, so that even the thought of saying them becomes unbearable 
You'll still feel our beginning and be assured of our forever.

When I say...that i love YOU..
Despite my common kisses and shared embraces
Despite how they used me and i used in return
You'll know that I FOUGHT
I swear you’ll be proud
Despite how I suffered, when I wept, how I mourned when they hurt me,
Despite how I begged, when they left, how i screamed when they broke me, 
Despite how I drowned, when they let go, how I cried when they spat love back in my face.
Despite how... they weren't you
I swear you’ll be proud
Because to have survived you'll know how I FOUGHT
Harder than the gladiator
Not for life, or for freedom, for honour or for glory
But for you, for us
I never knew you...not by any measure of the meaning of the word..
No, 
I never knew it was you 
I was fighting for, guarding for, waiting for..
But I guarded this heart that beat in my chest like my ribs were iron girdles..cages.. the keys to which I placed in your arms long before I Knew it was you.


So if you can just see what is left..
If you could just ACCEPT what is left
If you could, just, accept, the REMAINDER of what is left
Its as precious to me as the perfume and tears Mary Magdalene wiped Jesus' feet with
Am sorry I didn’t leave more, hold on to more, guard more, FIGHT for more
If I had known..
But all the same...If you could just accept what is left
Its All that is precious...
All that is left..
All that I am..
Am giving to you
An imperfect gift made perfect by this perfect sacrifice.
For I fought for us even before there was an us 
Placed in your arms keys to my heart
Just to tell you, in this way that is mine
You are the one
Yes YOU

I KNOW that you’re flawed, I'm not blind to your imperfection,
your life, like mine, will speak of your shame, may reek of dishonor
But despite that, I’ll give you this heart, along with this gift
But despite ALL that I'll give you THIS heart, along with this gift and WE’LL GLIMPSE AT REDEMPTION

Maybe my friend got mad because she saw judgment in one word... 'Naiive'.. Maybe my friend got mad because she was hearing the scorning of someone's version of a precious and perfect gift... An all too familiar story... if you recall the scorning of a blameless Son sent by a forgiving Father, who endured and sacrificed ALL just to provide for the perfect gift in its most precious form  so that even the man considered to be least of us imperfect people, might not just glimpse of redemption, but WALK in undeserved righteousness,(Romans 4 v 5) that we ALL may not just glimpse of redemption but have life EVERLASTING (Amen) (Hebrews 2 14-18)

Moments of need meets moment of Realisation.

An ancient Greek politician called Pericles once said,

What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others

Part of the reason why man fears death is the undeniable fact that at some point we will be as though we never existed... as though our once meaningful presence on this earth just never were. Forgotten. perhaps if we are lucky enough to have inqusitive great great grand children we may find our names traced in some form of family tree. But that’s it. You will only be a name. ask yourself, what are the names of your great great great grandparents. Funny thing, its not even shameful to not know. Very few do. That’s life. so it is no wonder that most of us if not all light up at the prospects of leaving behind some form of legacy. Maybe it is why, deep down, or not so deep down, we all aspire to make something of ourselves, to be wealthy, to be successful, to be great. We all dream of a time when, even after we come to pass, our names are being echoed in the halls of history, our names being etched on stone and our quotes being googled. Don’t we all wish...

wish to be remembered.

I used to tell my mum ‘you wait mummy, they will be quoting me one day’ and of course she would laugh affectionately at her eager beaver daughter.
But that was then this is now.. Time has left that sentence severely altered. I used to be that person that was soo sure of what I wanted, where I wanted to go and how I was going to get there.. If there was a trophy for being sure I must have won it on several occasions. Yes, I had a ‘the plan’ ...but I will tell you this.. my life has become a testimony to that saying ‘if you want to make God laugh, make plans’ (or something like that anyway) because the path I thought I was going to be taking isn’t really the path I am on now but still I couldn’t be more happier.

I’m not looking to be the richest person to have ever died, i’m not looking to have the  fanciest house amongst those I was buried with. Neither am I looking for some poor little child to have to memorize some out of context words I once uttered for her history exams. I’m not looking for some vague, out of date, unfashionably clothed statue of myself to be erected in some random street, I’m not looking for my name to be written where it will one day fade at the hands of the element.i mean those are FAB and all but What I would really love is to have my name engraved in the heart of at least ONE person. Just one. For someone to genuinely smile with affection at the sound of my name... to think of me in a way that says, even though my face is forgotten, the feeling they associate with me is timeless. I want to change lives. Not even in the obviously big way but in that smalll, heart warming way you usually associate with family or friends.

What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal (Albert Pine)

I want to be immortal in that way. And somewhere out there is a place called Zambia, a place called HOME, is a place with 690,000 AIDS orphans presenting me with the opportunity to do just that. I want to give them more than just my money. I want to give them my heart. I want them to see my face as my heart breaks for them. I want them to be able to look me in the eye when I promise them hope, even for just a second.
When?

NOW is a better time than any..

awwww so kayutttteee!!!

For me... NOW is a charity called CONTESA (UK Registered charity number 1109311) with a need or needs that I can help meet. Its just people feeding children. Forgotten children... but still just children.
CLICK http://www.contesacharity.co.uk/




Those who know me, have heard me go on and on about a charity event I am putting up in Zambia, by the grace of God this July (Thanks V for the inspiration)

Charity ball. Fantastic food, Speaches from USAID, Miss Zambia UK, My daddy, other NGO reps,
Performances from Zambian artists, Cactus Agony, Every voice Counts children's choir and other artists.
Auction for Intercontinental getaways, first dances with prominant people, gadgets etc

           The world is full of needs.Whether we are ready to realise it or not there are needs in this world that go beyod what shoes to wear,what fashion trend to follow, what career path to take and what exam question to answer.None of these that i have listed are permanent, one day they shall come to pass. they are not permanent in nature.But suffering... suffering is guaranteed. Everyday that you wake up, for every moment that you are alive there is one form of suffering to another. suffering is a permanent need. its a consequence of the world we live in, a consequence of a man made mistake at a time immemorial. therefore what we do or do not do about it is permanent and shall one day be used to define us. Chances are,with so many needs, God has blessed you with a talent, any talent, some kind of talent or gift to help fulfill even just ONE of those needs..He has been whispering for however many years, just whispering for you to have the courage to use it. 

1 Timothy 4:14
                     ‘do not neglect the gift which is in you [that special inward endowment] which was directly imparted to you [by the holy spirit].. Practice and cultivate these duties and throw yourself into them [as your ministry] so that your progress can be evident to everyone. Look well to yourself [to your own personality] and to your teaching and by so doing, you wil save both yourself and those who hear you’

I always used to say when I’m done with school or this and that I want to do that or this. But it has taken me 21 whole years, 21 years of God whispering in my ear, of happiness of tragedy, of fear and finally bravery to finally get the point that what I think is my future is but a dream, if I'm lucky, a vague representation of the life I will actually get to live. I can barely promise myself a tomorrow who am I to promise myself 50, even 20 even 5 even ONE whole year from now. Now all I ask of God is that He may help me make my NOW count for something. That he may close the doors on everything that will make me unhappy (a.k.a a desk job) That He may give me the strength to find a way to do, today, what I have promised Him I will do when I am done with this and done with that. So many of us are international students, we are well aware of the sacrifices our parents are making to give us a really good education. But all I’m saying is in the midst of that. I pray you will ALL find a way to also find what makes you happy.

In so many ways I know God has given me the talent to restore hope, to encourage people... That is the core of my personality. So I am going to use that. In every way I can. In whatever way I can fulfill that I will and chances are I will be happy doing it because part of happiness is being true to what and who you truly are.


Please if you want to know more about the charity event don't hesitate to halaaa C.Mwila@warwick.ac.uk or catch me on facebook, twitter or whatever. if you want to make a contribution please feel free CLICK http://new.thebiggive.org.uk/projects/view/11520?search=67a462a8-ed76-4977-b45f-8418cbd3f8b2. just let me know when and how much.


The seconds passing as we breathe, that is life...what we do during those breaths.. THAT is living...
sometimes its good to ask yourself...
'How am i living?'


God Bless you beautiful people.

Women...

well i think this one has been a long time coming.


One of my all too beautiful, all too inspiring friends recently happened to find herself in THE 'African Woman' magazine. As the title suggests it is a magazine that celebrates the amazing work women have been doing in particular parts of Africa. In her case, she put up a charity dinner to help 'keep a child alive'. In this life there are thinkers and there are movers and shakers, she is CLEARLY a mover and shaker. So to my lovely V this one is for you, in tribute of your amazing heart and inspiring work...My official congratulations. Love you.




In the midst of things like MTV Base and songs like Nelly's "Tipdrill", i guess it is easy to get lost in translation when it comes to defining what it really means to be a woman. However, in my quest to find an appropriate definition i came across this quote from our one and only Bob Marley


"You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect - you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there."


Yeah, apparently the little green 'eeerrrb is good for something. So if his 99.9% doped up brain could come up with someting so insightful who are we to claim to not know the value of women. I love the simplicity of his words, he is not claiming to know it all, neither is he giving you some elaborate theory of what she should look like. As one who isn't really a fan of flattery i can appreciate his theory, its all about the little things. In todays society it seems as though we are trying our level best to see just how much the word woman can be degraded.If this was money, women would represent little more than the Zimbabwean dollar. Depreciation is clearly at an all time high. I remember the day after Valentines Day someone posted a tweet that said "such a shame valentines day is over now women can go back to being treated badly"..hmm .. Their comment was a bit blunt but is it really so far fetched to think that one of the only times we are allowed to demand that we feel loved, cherished and special is that one day in the year.


Now fellas dont get me wrong, i am not here to criticise and send some hate mail your way. I am sure you are all doing a marvelous job showing your special someone how special they are...blablabla.. but sometimes we all need a little reminder what constitutes making someone feel special. Yes unfortunately its a lot more than showering one with gifts and telling them their not fat.Its all the other little things.


I used to think that i was the only girl in the world that didn't really like compliments about how i looked and all that. In fact, constant references to my outer appearance left me uncomfortable more than 'flattered'. I mean don't get me wrong like any other girl i like to look good and have my handy work shown some appreciation BUT I just hate the thought that that could possibly be the only thing you see when you look at me. Growing up a bit more and realising how this world opperates i thought i was a bit crazy and possibly a bit OTT in my thinking considering i was a bit of a tomboy growing up.But then i recently came across Joshua Bennett's "10 things I Want to say to a Black Woman" CLICK AWAY http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gU7ItOxr9g . My first thought was 'OMG they exist' (and he really does exist,thats not a smart robot you watching, he is even at my uni actually..who woulda thought *big smile*) and then i realised how much of myself i have adjusted over the years just so my views of what constituted a woman wouldn't become, in the eyes of others, extremist views. But allas.. no more. I think he does more than set the bar exceptionally high..to me he just rubber stamps the idea that if we as women can't find a guy that thinks and treats us this way, its not because he doesn't exist but because you choose not to see him.


I rememer as a young teenager i used to absolutely HATE going to what us Lusaka dwellers refer to as "town". Amidst the shopping complexes that have been erected during the last decade, "town" ,which was once the place to be and bustling city centre, has become the equivalent of the forgotten land for some of us. My fellow Africans i am sure you can relate when i say, picture crowds of people breathing each others air and trying to survive those cramped corridors and passageways without getting knocked down. And for me, the worst part, picture 'the street kids', if you're Zambian formerly known as 'Kaponyas', hurling all sorts of things at you as you try to gracefully ignore them. Yes i am sure enough lovely ladies are cringing at the thought.. sigh.. i hated them with a passion..i mean i would avoid going at ALL costs, including, yes, starting to cry. Every time i made an attempt to go i would be greated by the Kaponyas with the likes of 'Jennifer (not my name by the way), you look like you bathe in milk, come here" or "ey sister,why don't we find something useful to do with those hips" or my personal favourite " marry me my sweet chikanda (traditional version of a desert)". it did not matter where i went or who i went with i was ALWAYS a target. It was as though they sniffed out my fear and thrived to mortify me. Not even my awkward attempt at not shaking my derierre as i walked did the trick. it was futile. they always found me. You see in those moments I didn't feel flattered by what could be, from the right mouth, sweet words, neither did i feel flattered that someone was making a pass at me. I felt disgusted, made to feel what one feels when they are naked in front of strangers.. naked, embarrassed and stripped of everything else on the inside that makes me a person. there is no dignity in that moment, no pride, NOTHING. Just you being reduced to no more than the object of someone's lust, nothing else. No better than a peice of furniture or a vase. for even a vase can be  expensive, and thus respected and cherished.


 Is that moment any better than being the chick in a Nelly Tipdrill video or a Ludacris one? I don't know..does it make a difference if instead of a mere kaponya tellin me to get my ass on the floor its T.I or Jay-Z or Ludacris... Kanye maybe.? I mean how many of us have wanted to be those super hot women in the videos, being admired and touched by the likes of T.I..sigh... I'm guessing more than care to admit. These are the men shaping our society today and showing us what women are and how to treat them. Subliminarily telling us to spend 7 days a week in the gym and get on a 360 days a year diet in aspiring to be those kinda women. i don't know about you but I've already got school to get up for, there is no way i can do that too. So i am hoping there is another kinda woman i can aspire to be that doesn't involve such a strenuous regime or that doesn't reduce me to a mere object. 


When i first think of what is to be woman quite naturally i first think of that blessed woman that has raised me and put up with me for 20 years. not only that i look to her relationship with my dad to see if i can find there something that will shead some light on what it is to be TREATED like a woman. i remember some time last year during my mother's birthday party my dad in all his chivalry and charm told my mum that to him she was still his sweet 16. And during their usual during meal time banters about who has gained the most weight in the coarse of their marriage my dad still never fails to add that he does not know who looks more beautiful, her or his daughters (ummm Dad, really?). Anyway the point is, my mum isn't really that tall slim goddess my dad married once upon a time ago. 4 kids and a long ass marriage later can leave one looking rather ..ummm.. different. But somehow. amidst all that my Dad can still look at my mum and utter words like that without batting an eyelid. he can still look at my mother with such respect, awe and darn right reverence that can give a third party observer chills. Everyone knows better than to mess with my Mum least the watchdog that is my Dad gobbles you up with that piercing look. So i wanna know what the hell is it that leaves a man looking at a woman that way after so long?


I am guessing it is not the booty shaking skills, the endless long legs, the flat stomach or the face that looks like it was carved from God's "special" finger. No it can't be all that.. Because as far as i can see, those things fade. Time mercilessly eats at them, leaving but a shadow of what was once described as beautiful, or hot or even sexy. I am guessing that in the case of my parents, it has been as a result of my dad watching my mum raise his kids, watching her love them endlessly, watching her endure the trials, watching her love him the best way she knew how, watching her stay by his side when the logical thing to do would have been to flee the opposite direction. watching her support him, watching her be courageous in the face of opposition, quite simply watching what it is when a real woman loves. these are the things that have ultimately come to define her beauty. These are the things that form the essence of a WOMAN, the fight, the strength the love the sacrifice and confidence. They all become etched within her and engraved into every fibre of her being to the extent that you cannot look upon her form and not see beauty, not feel pride or not want to love her. Her presence alone will command the respect she so deserves and a reverence that one cannot contain. These are the women Fathers love. These are the women children adore. These are the women that bore us.


all other types of women fade as quickly as thy were displayed. because objects brake, mirrors shatter and beauty fades.


So then why are these women rare? why don't you find them on the arms of many men. why don't you find them on the arms of the likes of P Diddy or lil Wayne..strong, rich, FAMOUS, powerful men like Kanye West. Instead they're on the arms of the likes of my father and YOUR father.. coincidence? i don't know you tell me.


Its like in this day and age we are associating women more and more to products and no one even cares let alone themselves. They say slaves were carefully categorised, also treated like object, thought of as no more than a piece of furniture in the house. cataloghued, their every feature described to meticullous detail. they were sold from household to household. for less, for more. The world at some point became appauled. People gathered in masses to fight for their Liberty. People gathered, in masses to fight for their freedom, their dignity and their self respect. Bondage comes in more forms than the carving of iron shackles. So whose fighting for our women, or should i put it in terms you will understand.. whose fighting for the bitches hoes and skanks? Bondage is also the valgour words you create, the ones you say and say, the indiscriminate lustful thoughts you share and don't share. the personas you create in your head where one is little more than an object of your sexual gratification. And yet NO ONE is gathering in the masses. Not even themselves


Women were not made from the man's rib so that they may be beneath them. Women were made because God saw a need that only a women could satisfy when she is indeed a woman. Women were made from the rib to create a full circle. If women came first and gave birth to men it would have made the woman the superior sex, Men can't bare children. so in all his wisdom God made the man first so that neither can say to the other that they are more superior or that the other is infrior. He created us for companionship, that we may love each other without boundaries... as equals.... God made it PERFECT.. so please lets not try to change it.


In my search for a woman i can relate to being I came across Mya Angelou's poem. i mean it is easy for us to blame the guys for pretty much everything but camaan people charity begins at home. you will only really ever be treated the way you ALLOW people to treat you. Find the woman you wanna be and be her, and as for me, Mya is a better place than any to start.


Phenomenal Woman Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.