How is February coming to an end already? I am shook! << Speaking of, are there any slangs you hate/find ridiculous and end up using them as a joke only for them to stick? Mine include ‘bae’ and now ‘shook.’ Yup, I am cringing as I type but here we are!

The past couple of months have been a rollercoaster. One day you have inexplicable joy because your person who has been out of a job for over two years has finally signed an awesome contract then out of the blue a wave of depression hits. You are half way into a sip of pina colada celebrating the gift of another year for your loved one only to receive news of the loss of another. I have asked “life kyeki?” <What is life?> silently and out loud, more times than I can remember since this year began. Some highlights have stayed with me nonetheless.

Moses* called me at the end of last month. He invited me to speak to a group of recovering addicts under his care. It was a busy time and I asked him to slot me in close to the end of February; Wednesday last week to be exact. I forgot about it. As the day drew nearer, I began to panic. What did I know about addiction? What could they possibly learn from me? Who made me an authority on any subject? Would they be able to tell that I was a fraud, preaching hope while crumbling inside? SOS!


Incidentally, I met Moses at a talk last year. He belonged to a mentorship group whose leader invited me to speak. I was told to expect 15 or more people. I walked into a well set up room complete with a podium and ‘high table.’ Only 5 people showed up. It was so bad that we each had to pack the snacks which had been prepared for a bigger group. BUT; It was also one of the most fulfilling sessions I have ever facilitated. The small group was so eager to learn, they took notes and kept flipping pages. I was so pumped, I just went on and on. I chose to sit with them in a semi-circle and encouraged them to interrupt at any point. They did! J It was doubly awesome because my fried Ritah joined in. We had plans later that evening and she offered to attend the talk as well. Her voice was a great addition to the discussion because she had experience as a volunteer. I did not have to give all the examples. She was right there to pitch in.


After several attempts, asking Monsieur Google to help me plan my talk, I decided to relax. Each time I have spoken from the heart, it has worked out just fine. I would do the same.

I got there almost an hour early. This gave me time to catch up with *Cathy who is an employee at the organisation.

The Christian non-profit supports individuals to overcome addiction. The residential program lasts a period of one year. During that period they are equipped with life skills as well as knowledge of the scripture.

I was told to expect 16 men between the ages of 16 and 50. My audience comprised of 14. I asked each of them to tell me their names and something about them, preferably something they like to do/something which makes them happy. Most of them mentioned football, cooking (pleasantly surprising) and God. I wasn’t ready when this gentleman’s turn came. He was arguably the oldest in the group. He calmly said. “Henry. I am a father.” 5 words, simple yet heavily loaded. For a few minutes I drifted off imagining how he got here, what his children thought and how he felt ‘hanging’ with teenagers in the same space. When I eventually snapped back, we were on to the last introduction. The next exercise involved them writing their biggest, boldest dreams on a sticky note. What they would do if they had limitless resources. I later jumbled them up and let each one read someone else’s dreams.

Almost all of them mentioned their intention to do more for a vulnerable group, from orphans to the elderly and recovering addicts. *Daniel called out “Esther, you haven’t told us your dream…” and that was the perfect intro for my story.

I spoke about my journey and openly shared about the 9,876,421 road blocks I have faced, I shared countless testimonies and told stories within stories. It was actually pretty mentally and emotionally draining going down memory lane. My audience was mostly quiet except for *Daniel and his neighbour, Aaron. They kept mumbling, taking notes, and I even saw a high 5. I thought to myself, “I am either really interesting or these guys are working on their own happy project.” Nonetheless, I continued, trying to engage everyone the best way I could. Finally, it came to an end, and I asked for questions or comments. Walala! I was NOT ready. First of all the pair that seemed busy throughout asked like 15 questions all on their own and then the rest. I had a 5pm meeting, meaning I needed to set off by 4.30 or so. I quickly realised it was going to be impossible to leave. I sneakily texted Kristine to let her know I would be late then gave these men my full attention. Their questions were deep, some of them silly, as if testing my sanity. All of them were engaging. I quickly noted who the ‘class clowns’ were. Henry did not say much else :/

Just as I thought the questions were coming to an end, Daniel asked “Can you please look at our proposal before you leave?”

Me: You mean you have written and completed a proposal during these 2 hours?

Him: *laughs* No, we started planning this 2 weeks ago and you came right in time.

This explained his questions about vision, mission and general organisational structure during the talk. I agreed to look at the proposal.

Finally, Jesse put up his hand. He had picked up on a part of my story where I mentioned difficulty in getting volunteers, discerning who is there for the right reasons and maintain friendships. He read a Bible verse in Colossians (Col 1:15-18)  and encouraged me to focus on God and not people and just as he was concluding Tom opened his Bible and to reiterate read “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters (Col 3:23) *Martin then added Proverbs 4:18 “The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day.” I was overwhelmed but they weren’t done yet. Jesse asked if he could pray for me. They all stretched their hands and he started to pray. I had mentioned my struggle with insomnia briefly and here he was bringing it up. Jesse prayed for my family, friends, past, present and future, like an old friend or even a sage. The tears that I had controlled up till that more moment could no longer be held back. In that moment, I surrendered the baggage I had carried to this house and felt much lighter. By the time the ‘Amen’ came, I had forgotten where I was.

Everyone who needed an extra word, came over after the talk.

Jesse recommended a book.

Rodney offered to cook for me on his day off as a thank you. (I believe they earn these after 3-4 months)

Jeff asked me to check out a home for street children he helped set up.

Eventually, I sat with Daniel and Aaron to go through the proposal. Daniel’s energy constantly at 100 “I did not finish school so I am not good at writing, but I am a good talker. My boy here does the writing.” (patting Aaron) I read through and talked them through the alterations. They are looking to seek permission from the organisation; to do some work within their community. They hope the organisation can contribute half the start up capital and they (students) can fundraise the rest.  They want to use their spare time to clean homes, fumigate, garden and other related activities; to utilise their time and energy plus make extra income. It was quite humbling.

I invited all of them to our annual football fundraiser #5AsideUG slated for March 10th. I was worried about it because they have to ‘earn’ their days off and there will be alcohol sold at the event. I asked the administration to weigh the pros and cons then get back to me.

Cathy sent me a message a couple of days ago. The students are looking to put together a football team and contribute. I explained that my invitation meant that they attend at no cost. She said they knew that and wanted to contribute the little they could regardless. *Sniff*

I hope they can make it, if only to have some fun, a connection with the real world and bear witness that dreams do come true.


Falling in love


It was love at first sight that hot afternoon when I used my lunch break to visit the children’s home in Kyebando for the first time.

I had started a Facebook group, shared a plan and invited friends to spend their 40 days giving but I didn’t even know the recipients.
That afternoon, within seconds of arrival. I knew.
I received more hugs than I could count. I was surrounded by smiles. I felt love.
I encountered God.

Before long, I was back to visit and graduated from a stranger to aunt, to mummy. I was in love.
Imagine my utter joy when I got to share this love with my friends and realising that many felt it too.
These children soon became family.
I can just see them as I type this; Bashir, the most beautiful boy you ever did see, who needed surgery at some point and the Doctor agreed to do it an no cost except for anesthesia and paying the nurses-this 200,000 was collected in one ‘facebook group chat’ session long before we had whatsapp ;Daisy the diva who knew how to use her adorable face to get what she wanted, oh Esther who became my BFF when she found out we were namesakes. Once I found her wearing a tee and realised it was one that I owned before it found a new home. When I told her it used to be mine, she registered this fact in her little brain. Four out of five times we visited, she was wearing it. I asked her to change into other clothes but she would not budge.
And how can I forget Ronald who loved to drum. When it was dance time, his heart smiled. He gave the caretakers some trouble, as he sought to be understood, like we all do. Eventually he found a loving home and I couldn’t be happier.
We met so many more beautiful souls and slowly they found family within the team and vice versa.
This relationship had its tough times, like any other and while many were out of my control, I feel eternally blessed because of the miracles that came alive from these bonds.
I received some practice for motherhood too😉
There is so much that I cannot put to words (and believe me, I have often tried) and yet everything learnt, what I felt, what I feel, it will always stay with me.

Moving On

My first real encounter with young passionate Ugandans chasing a big dream came in form of the Lantern meet of Poets. Man they breathe(d) passion! I vividly remember the day Lillian told me about the group and her subsequent excitement as they planned their first recital. It was a mix of eagerness and fear. Last year she reminded me that I sat with her backstage until it was her turn. Frankly all I remember from that recital was sitting proudly in the audience and resisting the urge to whisper to all my neighbours, ‘that’s my girl.’ I marvelled at her effortless ability to command the stage, her eloquence and confidence. I watched the other poets in awe, some visibly anxious and others whose performances said to us “I was born for this!”


Lillian and I had tested our rhymes as naughty teenagers in High school. She would pass a note that read “What do you think of the colour red?” and I would reply “Let us start by looking under the bed” or something silly along those lines. Before we knew it, we would have a complete poem, mostly full of stupidity, I might add. This would go on for most of the lesson, particularly the Political Education class which was most relaxed. I caught Mr. Miwa noticing me, noticing him, noticing us a few times but he never did penalise us.  I guess he decided our grades would speak for themselves or he just let ‘children’ be children. I don’t remember us failing though, it was quite an interesting class. One of the few for me, actually. Ask me about Physics though, I’ll come at you with a pendulum clock.

Fast forward to several years later and the Lantern meet partnered with my alma mater. It brought a certain joy to my heart. I thought if they had existed in my time, I would probably have joined in. At that point in my life, words were surely my escape. Perhaps I wouldn’t have gathered the courage to hit the stage but I would have liked to be in the presence of those realities, admiring the string of words and stories woven.

Speaking of words, I have never really found myself worthy to critique writing, any art really. I feel almost as if I would be dictating how the artist should feel, how they need to express their emotions; how they should interpret their thoughts and package them for the audience. I find that a tad unjust. While the audience certainly matters, I feel like sometimes we lose ourselves, our original message, trying so hard to fit into their expectations…but that’s just me.

I can still hear the echoes of “This revolution will not be televised” and how I left that evening thinking “Woah! What a time to be alive!”

Each time I got a chance to watch the Lantern meet at the National theatre, it brought back fond memories of my relationship with the place. As a Primary school pupil in the school choir, making it to the theatre was the equivalent of the Olympics. We participated in competitions that were held in schools all over the country but only the crème de la crème made it to the finals at National theatre. I suppose it would have been even more exhilarating if we had to travel miles to get there but unfortunately, I studied only a few metres away. Nonetheless, it was a thrilling experience for my young excitable mind. We weren’t half bad either. I remember crying inconsolably when I was about 10 years old, after we emerged second, nationwide! Ha! If only I knew then what I know now, I would tell little Esther to celebrate that ‘win’ and savour it. I would assure her that life would present so many more reasons to cry and this was one of the better days. Thankfully, ‘we’ never lost the passion and we did lose that competitive gene. Now, doing our best is good enough and I wish mini- me had known that.

After almost a decade, the Lantern meet of poets has decided to bow out. I have not had the chance to get the scoop on this scoop. I know for a fact that I would have loved to have them around forever but then again I am sure they have their reasons.

I would like to salute you for dreaming, for growing, for reminding us to appreciate the power of poetry, of words of rhythm and rhymes.

You were just but University students armed with a dream and a canvass when you began, look how much beauty you left us!  You created a movement, a force to reckon with and we are indebted to you for that.


I started this hoping to write a short piece celebrating the Lantern meet of poets and inviting you all to the last recital but 800 words later here we are. *smh*

If you are in Kampala this Saturday, come and say goodbye to them in style. The show will begin at 7pm. Tickets go for Ugx 20,000 and are already on sale at National Theatre.



Your stories gave us light. Thanks for the memories!



Soaring on angel wings


I have always considered motherhood to be an unparalleled gift, whether through adoption or biologically. No offence dads, you do a good job of raising children and can make or break them, but there’s something about a mother’s love which is surely significant and can somehow be felt whether or not you have yours with you.  My deep regard for motherhood was the reason I was over the moon when Jackie told me she was expecting her first child. I conveniently skipped the part about the complications she was facing so that I could first ululate and then return to that point at length.

I hadn’t seen Jackie in months and our communication was mainly over the phone. I constantly checked for updates, especially when I found out that she had a few issues with her pregnancy and she always calmed me down. My pleas to visit were not addressed and I figured she wanted to be alone. I could, after all relate to that feeling. I decided I would pray for her and wait for such a time when she was ready to receive visitors.

On a chilly Friday morning, I made the decision to check on her physically and hoped she would agree. I noticed that her messages that morning were vibrant, and filled with emoticons, something that had been absent in the past weeks. I took this as a good sign. We agreed that I would visit in the afternoon so I spent the rest of the day working on school assignments in preparation. Once I had finished, I flagged down a boda boda and told her I was on my way. She informed me that she was planning to go to hospital and I figured I’d tag along.

When I reached her home, I was welcomed by her smiling mommy who has aged so gracefully, it is scary. I told her as much. I suspect she is one of those people who downplays compliments because as I was gushing, I told her “You look very nice.” Her : You too. But can’t you just allow and leave me out, I thought 😛 I got to Jackie’s room and waited as she’d stepped into the bathroom. When she returned, she was wincing in pain and clutching her stomach stretching out for the bed. She lay down and we struggled to make conversation. I could see the agony in her eyes, it broke my heart. Her mum asked if I’d stay long as she needed to go to church and I responded in the affirmative. I had so many questions but could tell Jackie was in too much pain so I had to stop myself at intervals. Her pain was increasing and she was bleeding.  She kept asking me to leave so that I wouldn’t see her in that state. I mentally saved her slaps for when she would get better. We prayed and sat in silence occasionally. I really wanted to distract her but I was mostly helpless in the end. The plan was to go to the hospital but because she had been there the day before and received the diagnosis and medication from two different specialists, we hesitated in the hope that there would be a change. Paracetamol was the only accepted painkiller and it did not seem to bring any relief so we eventually decided to head to the hospital.

Her brother, Joseph, drove slowly, careful to avoid potholes and letting impatient drivers overtake as Jackie’s pain intensified with every bump. In the meantime, her Doctor was called and he confirmed he was at the hospital. Upon arrival, forms were filled and we waited as Jackie was the second patient the Doc would see. She felt the bleeding increase and we quickly ran to the bathroom. Now, this silly patient of mine started to dictate what I was allowed to do/not do and see/ not see. She would ask me to turn around or close my eyes *smh* “ I don’t want you to see things unless you promise to forget.”  It turned out, the bleeding was intense and the clots bigger than she’d experienced before.

Jackie finally saw the doctor as her sister, Daphne, Joseph and I waited. When she got out, she told us we were going to the ward. We were glad she was spending the night because at least then, she could be observed. As we reached the parking lot, I dared to ask what the doctor had said “My baby is…” She broke down into tears. I did not want to ask again for fear of the response but Daphne asked, and that dreaded thought was confirmed. Daphne and I both broke down immediately only for Jackie to ask “Why are the rest of you crying.” Sigh

“I never knew until that moment, how bad it would hurt to lose something you never really had.”

It was a quiet walk to the ward. What do you tell someone who has just lost her baby? I could not even begin to conceive the millions of thoughts in her head. Jackie needed to prep for the theatre and only one person was allowed to go with her. Daphne quickly declined saying she’d just cry throughout so I went in with her. I wasn’t any stronger but it had to be done. At this point, it was time to call close family and just ask them to come without specifics so that they wouldn’t receive the news over the phone. I kept trying not to think about Jackie’s heartache. The sheer shock of an ‘ordinary day’ ending like this was haunting my mind. Her heart was probably in a million little pieces as we sat and talked about the situation and everything else. Before long, her hubby, Jacob showed up and he said a prayer just as I walked out to give them privacy.


By the time Jackie got out of the theatre, there were no less than 10 members of either family gathered outside the hospital room, anxious to check on her. Her anaesthesia had worn off and she was smiling. Sigh. We all got into the room and this is the question I remember, “How are you?” Jackie responded “We are fine, it’s just Jacob and I now.” Ooh the heartbreak!

The rest of the evening was spent discussing food, politics, roads and other totally unrelated topics. There was even a debate over which crisps are better; whirlwind or happy crisps (These are made in Uganda, please support these guys if you haven’t..oh  and give me your reviews) Joseph and Daphne insisted happy crisps were better and we agreed to disagree. I digress.

As I left that night, I told Jackie I hoped she’d get some sleep but she said she wanted to stay up for as long as she could so that she could mourn. I totally understood that. I knew deep down the mourning would take a long while but believed she’d find joy and comfort along the way.

angel wings

What stood out for me through it all was the amount of support and love I could see and feel, just being in that room. Everyone in the family who called to check in or who was called, whether they had reached home or were stuck in traffic in the opposite direction- dropped what they were doing and showed up. I was humbled and deeply touched by their warmth. The day’s events had been shocking and miserable but I was glad to see this silver lining and know that Jackie would be taken care of and pull through, somehow.


I know who I am

For the past couple of weeks, I have been waking up with different songs in my head,constantly; anything from the 90’s to an old hymn. I usually find myself singing or humming for the rest of the day and when my brain is really in overdrive, I question the lyrics word for word. *Do not try this at home*

Today, I started by humming “I know who I am” and it kept ringing in my head. I decided not to give up an opportunity to get up and wiggle in the name of the Lord so I played it on loud speaker and got up to shake it off. It felt good, no it felt great!

How powerful are these words though?!

We are a chosen generation
Called forth to show His excellence
All I require for life, God has given me
And I know who I am

I know who God says I am
What He says I am
Where He says I’m at
I know who I am

I’m walking in power,
I’m walking miracles
I live a life of favor,
‘Cause I know who I am

Oh oh oh, oh oh oh
I know who I am

I am holy, I am righteous oh…
I am so rich, I am beautiful

I’m walking in power,
I’m walking miracles
I live a life of favour,
‘Cause I know who I am

Take a look at me, I’m a wonder
It doesn’t matter what you see now
Can you see His glory?
‘Cause I know who I am

Oh oh oh, oh oh oh
I know who I am

Did you believe them as you read/sang? I know a thing or two about feeling the exact opposite of what the song is telling us to do. What if you don’t know who you are? What if you don’t think you are such a wonder, who is beautiful and living a life of favour? Well, the truth is you are and that you don’t believe it is what we need to work on:)
Sometimes you need to convince your brain/ heart even when it is difficult. I feel like this is the only thing I have been trying to do ALL year <not melodramatic at all,yes? :p> When I take a break from doing it in my life, I try to ‘infect’ the next victim. I really do believe those ‘cliches’ about finding happiness from within, teaching yourself to be positive *etc* can’t all possibly be wrong. We take what is applicable and leave the rest, oui?
I certainly feel pumped up after singing such a positive song or reflecting on a positive message. I don’t know what works for you but if it is, sticky notes on your wall, computer, wall paper, videos or even hanging around positive people, do it, whatever it takes. You owe yourself at least one smile a day (100 would be great too!)
A few things happened to me in this regard, yesterday that I thought I’d share.
First, I received a call from a friend who was reeking of positive vibes. Luckily, she called in the morning so it set the pace. The more we spoke, the happier I felt.
After the call, I decided to watch one TED talk before going on about my day. The one message I can’t get out of my head is “Don’t fake it till you make it, fake it till you become it.” I urge you to watch this for further context. It explains how our body language can shape who we are. I actually found myself subconsciously practicing it. What surprised me even more, was that a couple of hours later, I was faced with a potentially stressful situation together with a friend. We were already dealing with much more pressure so I asked her to walk away with me, and we did. A few minutes later she remarked ” I would still be panicking if you had not been here.”  I smiled. A cocktail of  interrelated events had unfolded for this result.
 Whether you don’t know ‘who you are,’ or you can’t figure out how to get to point B; ‘hoping for the best’ is not a strategy, allow yourself to take little steps even if it is just steps to acceptance/ dealing with the situation and not necessarily solving it completely. Love yourself enough to give yourself time. Probably a tad simplistic but like I said, whatever it takes.

P.s: Dancing helps too so if you can sneak a few minutes of it in, just dance!
Heeeeey Macarena, AAAhAA! 😀

War room

I had it on my to do list to watch the movie ‘War room’ but the opportunity did not present itself until last night. I am glad it did because I have an uncanny talent that leads me to watch movies several months or even years after their release *SOS*

From the on-set, you can tell that it did not cost an arm and leg to shoot this movie. The actors were unknown to me, which was both a good an bad thing. Good because you get to discover new talent and bad because there are scenes in which I had someone in my mind who I thought could have given a stronger performance. Nonetheless, the message was brought safely home and that is the most important part.
P.S If you have watched Courageous or Fireproof, the brothers behind it; Stephen and Alex Kendrick produced War room. If you haven’t, I recommend them 🙂

Without giving away too much; In the movie, Elizabeth is married to Tony and they have one daughter, Danielle. Elizabeth is unhappy in her marriage mainly because her husband does not listen to her, verbally abuses her, is drawn to other women and has no time for her or their daughter. When Elizabeth meets an elderly lady, Clara during her rounds as a realtor, she is introduced to ‘The war room.’ This room is a small room that was once a closet but Clara turned into a prayer room to pray for her husband and family. Here, she spends quiet time with the Lord and articulates her needs while crying out to him.  She tries to encourage Elizabeth to do the same. Elizabeth is adamant at the beginning but later submits. It is when she (Elizabeth) is fully immersed in faith and belief in the power of prayer that her life begins to turn around.

If you are a Christian or a spiritual person watching this movie, it presents moments of conviction, learning and reflection among other things. If you are agnostic or even an atheist, there will probably be moments when you’ll roll your eyes till you can see your brain. Hopefully though, after the eye roll, you can appreciate one or two messages therein.

On a personal level, I could relate to this movie in many ways. I actually remember a time a few years ago when the phrase ‘I’ll pray for you’ sometimes rubbed me the wrong way. It is not that I did not believe in the power of prayer, it is that I wanted it to be backed by some tangible support. If hypothetically I told someone we are trying to raise money for a loved one who needed an urgent operation. I expected them to either offer support, ideas, ask me how they could help or at the very least offer to/spread the word. If there first reaction was ‘I’ll pray for you,’ I felt cheated for lack of a better word. However, I have come to realise that if it the prayer is more than just a promise, if someone is actually going out of their way to pray for you, prayer does indeed change things. Fast forward to the ‘current me,’ I am now the one ‘stressing’ people with my I’ll pray for you. I am very much still an advocate of backing prayer with action. After all, faith without actions is dead. So, for example, while I pray for my unemployed friends to get job, I shall also send them links for jobs, offer to proof read their applications and then provide as much moral support as possible. You need not restrain yourself from going the extra mile, in prayer or action.


In the movie, the underlying theme is prayer so you might think, “If my spouse is abusing me, should I just go into a closet and pray?” There are obviously many other courses of action but I believe the writers/producers saw the need to remind us that before we should not involve the world or fight battles alone when we can begin with letting it all go and submitting to the Lord. Once you know that ‘someone’ stronger, mightier and more capable than you is taking care of your business, it is easier to worry less and sleep more.


Last week, I had my own rock chasing me downhill. I was not able or willing to reveal its full intensity. One night,I decided to seek out to a few friends whom I knew would pray with/for me even when I failed to myself. I mentioned exactly what I wanted and then I went to sleep. The next day I woke up with that “I believe I can fly” attitude. I was singing and dancing in my room like I was being paid. Had all my problems vanished overnight? Not at all. Did I believe that they would? Yes. Did reminding myself that I was incapable of fighting alone help? Yes. Did my prayer and that of my loved ones change things? Oh yes!


I am no expert in these matters, far from it. However, I have seen what suffering does to people. I have seen what it does to me. I know what it is like to feel like there is nowhere to turn, like God has forsaken you. Except, that is when he is working overtime! He allows trouble to pursue you and I. Through these troubles, he leads us to discover the gifts in darkness, the lessons from tribulation. I can’t reiterate enough what joy there is in learning how to wait, to be still in anticipation of his next move. While me may need to wait for him sometimes, other times he calls us to leap. To leave everything we know and love and go on a journey. Think of all the faithful men and women in the Bible. Now begin to meditate on the trials each of them overcame. Did God test them because he hated them or did he allow their faith to transform them? And so the learning continues…


Overall, it was a good watch, with many learning points. It would be nice to watch it with your spouse and is suitable for family viewing.

Recommended music from the movie

Shake loose- Vickie Winans

Press on- Mandisa

Warrior – Steven Curtis Chapman

Crazy faith- John Waller

To know you- Casting Crowns

Healing begins- Tenth Avenue North

What were your thoughts when you watched the movie?Do share 🙂


I’m running

Don’t you just love the rain? I do! If I could be paid to wear nice warm jackets and boots, sit outside and sip tea, with an assortment of pastries- reading and/or writing I would be rich!
In real life, I brave the rain on boda bodas, arrive looking like a scruffy kitten and try to make up for it with liveliness. Close?
This morning I was up slightly after 5 a.m and like most days, I silently grumbled. Why can’t I just sleep?! I ‘pretended’ to sleep some more, but quickly quit the charades, as I usually do. It was raining so I focused on that. Before long, I realised it was nearing the jogging hour and this rain wasn’t about to halt. I called my partner to discuss this bump in our plan(s) She decided to exercise at home while I chose to try out a new course.
When I got out, the drops weren’t as fierce as I had expected. The first person I met was a little girl, couldn’t have been over 10. She extended a cheery ‘Good morning’ and right there and then, I knew I was doing this.
I ran my first ‘marathon’ around 2009. The marathon is in quotes because an actual one is 42.195 km long and I took part in the 10km race. Nope, not even half! That year, I listened to the ad once and encouraged my roommates to join me.  We weren’t fit but there was still time. We jogged a bit in the subsequent days but were not serious with the training process. It soon came to an abrupt end.

Everyone I told I was participating made a joke about how I would collapse or asked me what I was smoking. This only made me more determined.
At the end of the race, in which I surprisingly did more running than walking, an aunt of mine started a mission to fatten us. Her office’s tent had plenty of bites and for University students who relied mostly on ‘rolex,’ this was heaven. So, uhm, I didn’t collapse. I don’t know if MTN was doing this for everyone but my aunt later send me a printed copy of a photograph. In it, I was running probably at kilometre 9.5 because my facial expression was one of sincere anguish. Good times.
In the years that followed, I took part in some more, halted for a bit and then ran again with the 4040 team at the Rotary cancer run last year.
This time round, I am looking forward to participating in the Hope ward run. While I have no problem with multinational companies extending a helping hand, I have first-hand experience in the struggle of smaller, non-profit initiatives. The Hope ward run is organised by the charity arm of IMG (International Medical Group), International Medical Foundation. Over the years, the Foundation has performed complex surgeries for children, provided cancer treatment and worked on victims of the LRA war in Northern Uganda who required plastic surgery, among others.
The proceeds from the run are used to support the less fortunate through their health complications. Depending on the situation, patients can receive up to 100% discount on the procedures. Having worked with the disadvantaged and seen many loved ones struggle with not just health issues but also a mostly appalling health system, I am more than happy to support this cause.
10 year old Bernard, is a beneficiary of the initiative. He was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, a form of blood cancer. Together with the Uganda cancer institute, he started chemotherapy and was discharged on 10th April. He still receives treatment from the Hope ward.

This year’s run is dedicated to children born with birth defects. Through the funds raised, the foundation shall partner with the Paediatric association of Uganda to provide surgery and/or treatment.
Over 1,200 children and adults have benefited from lifesaving treatment through the Hope ward initiative (I just love the HOPE in that!) since 2006.
Through my work, I have seen what Ugx 1,000, 10,000 or 20,000 from several individuals can do – A LOT!
To participate in the run you only need Ugx 20,000. You can also register as a corporate team for Ugx 500,000 or 1,000,000.
I urge you to save the date November 15th and participate in this marathon.

Hope Ward Run Flier 2015
Overtime, I have heard people say, “these days people don’t want to just give, they have to get something out of it.” I do not subscribe to that school of thought. However, you can choose to make this a day out for your family, a group activity for your friends, team building with the colleagues or simply use it as a training/testing ground if you’re a fitness buff.
Whatever your reason, please come by.
I’m running, are you?

runningSaving live