Just another ordinary Friday, or so I thought. I had a bit of a stomach upset so I decided to skip lunch. I borrowed a friend’s car and together with another friend we went to buy cake.
See the day before was my friend Celine’s birthday and I hadn’t gotten her anything, except for a
sweet text. We actually only met this year but she has been loyal and kind in amazing ways.I thought that she deserved a treat. I decided to buy her that cake and take a stroll to her office that isn’t far from mine.
When I got there, she saw what I had in my hand and let out a little squeal. Her workmates had envious expressions, but I was quite happy with that part. One needs to show off that they are loved from time to time…:p
Before I left, she pulled me aside and said she wanted to tell me something. “Someone sent me money to buy a birthday cake but I thought I should give it to the children instead. Please use it for the Christmas party.” Celine said. I almost broke down. In that instant, I thought perhaps I should have bought her a matching vitz to go with the cake:) I was deeply touched.
In all my fundraising initiatives, I have come to a simple conclusion. It is those who have the least that are willing to give. Every time I interact with such individuals, I feel blessed beyond words.
Fast forward to Sunday..this time an ordeal that makes me sad to recount. 4.45 pm,I met an old friend,Rita just before we got in for the mass. She told me she had just returned from a funeral. When I asked who had passed away, she narrated a short story.
” I went to school with Edith*not real name.* She was a very sweet girl, that one person in class whom you know is dependable. We lost our ‘sweet person.’ For the past two years she has been ill. The condition was terrible.She came from a size 14 to an 8.When checked for HIV and cancer, tests were negative. Every hospital sent her to the next one unsure what the condition was. She had to leave university because of the illness until her demise.”
It was heartbreaking to listen to this tale. Even before Rita could mention it, I knew people must have been speculating about witchcraft. I mean, that is the only other option when doctors fail, right? I cannot mention the number of cases I know of where doctors overlooked obvious steps or gave up too soon only for a condition to escalate and lead to near fatal or fatal situations. I was sad that Edith didn’t get a chance. I was even sadder that her family will keep asking themselves questions that they have no response to.
We eventually got into church and started with praise and worship. This mass is charismatic and therefore has a lot more ‘life’ than ordinary. As we sang I kept thinking of this young girl and all the deaths that have been occurring these past few weeks. Sadly, the festive season seems to carry drag this darkness along with it. May all those that have departed rest in peace. This was my eye opener this weekend, to the brevity of life and its blows too.
My attention was stolen by a beautiful girl who seemed like she was 12 or so, P.7 vacation most probably. Short hair, long eye lashes and such beautiful skin. She was sitting right next to her father. I made up their history, of course I could be wrong but he seemed like a single dad, her best friend. They shared little jokes, hidden high fives and exchanged fond glances. It was such a pretty sight. A kinyankole hymn was played and I could swear this young man was going to do the ‘ekitaguriro’ right there. He was so elated, his eyes were practically smiling:) He clapped eagerly as his daughter giggled. This is the point when I realised that I was a perpetual stalker and decided to focus my eyes elsewhere as I sang along…okay hummed along as I had never before listened to this hymn.
I want my daughter to have such a special bond with her daddy, so evident that
stalkers like me will feel it a mile away.
So last night as I lay on the couch reminiscing about the weekend that was, I realised my memory of bliss wasn’t in an expensive outfit bought or the comfort of the seats in a luxurious BMW. I was thankful for special bonds and quiet time.
Just before I turned off the music hoping to call it a night, I overheard mum laugh out loud. She was speaking to Monica who I’d say is more of a friend than a maid. I have no idea what they were speaking about but I wanted that to be the last sound I heard before getting into bed.
It really is in the little things…
Here is to a great week!