I fell and I broke something. But, I couldn’t tell because, I kept running from Your love and grace. I’m the eagle whose wing broke, I limped to my end.

What was my end? I asked over and over  again with no definite answer. They swarm around me, spat in my face, made me out to be the most disgusting thing they ever saw. 

All I dreamed of was, to Exit. Walk away. Give them all they’d been asking for, of me, for all these days. For me to be as gone with the wind as the matyrs, only I was a villain and it had been written in stone. I had to know, rest they didn’t, till I understood, I was worse than the ugliest excuse.

I didn’t have the will to live, I didn’t know who was for me and who wasn’t. So, I looked up, gathered my rugs around me, clung to my cross, sprung myself up, and limped to my end – Calvary.

A special friend told me, “you gotta find Jesus brother.” I knew and understood what he meant, but, I knew I didn’t make it through all of that alone. Jesus had already found me, whether I knew it or not, given me strength to weather the storm. And, atop His wings, I had been mounted. I had not been lost, I had already been found. Hallelujah! 

He had stirred up the waters, the good, the bad and the ugly, I bled out unforgiveness, bitterness , pride, and, I limped on.  

He gathered me in a corner, the one I knew was my undoing, He embraced and smothered me, and suffocated me with His love and He turned it all around. All fear, discrimination, forms of abuse, betrayal, He turned it for me when it was against me. 

There, that’s my King, Calvary limping to 

His end, or so they thought. Because He was here already, He walked with me, cross in tow, limp, limp, limp, away we went. 

And now, I  will limp, limp, limp. Until, He fully heals me, I will limp, limp, limp, limp.  . .

I know, I’ll be loved with my limp. I’ll be used with my limp. I’ll be honored with my limp. I’ll be favored with my limp. For those that don’t know love, they’ll despise me with my limp. And, it won’t matter!

See You Again 

When, I see you again, I’ll want you to know that silence was the wisest of them all. It is just what you needed for me to totally forget what holding you used to mean.

When, I see you again, I know your smile will irritate me more than before. But, my smile will be the least thing to expect.

When, I see you again, I know you’ll understand that I decided to forget about you, and no, I chose not to lose my sanity over trying to pluck every piece of your brain that lived in my memories.

When, I see you again, you’ll know, my guitar was all that remembered you, prayed for you and wrote poetry to your name all night long, while I was busy getting drunk to the sounds and moans it made.

When, I see you again, I’ll be glad not to recognize the very voice that bore my nightmares all the while. 

When, I see you again, you’ll know and taste my tears, these that dried because you were in other’s arms while my heart desperately begged to be held by you. And yes, I’m outcried, but you’re yet to be. When I’ll see you again.

I learned how to use the pain you gave freely, I’m glad you didn’t have better use for it. I put it to good use, and there, that’s the smile on my face it bore. These are the wounds on my heart it licked dry. 

I pray you learn to hand out enough pain to your next and the next. Only then will you know how cold and lonely it can get when you’ve given away all of the one thing you were ever capable of giving – Pain. 

– J

Dentists, Love or Hate them 

When I was younger, I hated dentists. It really didn’t matter how nice he/she would be. All I knew was, it hurt. I’m probably not the only one. 

I wish I could go back to the times when ignorance was bliss, until a toothache took my innocence, from then on, I knew to hate dentists was to hate my own self.

I think the number of times I’ve needed dental services are abnormally high, but considering how much I hate pain, I was never going to risk being behind enemy lines again without arming myself first.

On 20th March, the International World Oral Health Day, I was pleased to be one of the the bloggers at Code dental talking everything, Oral health, well I was going to get a free dental check up. 

Yoooo, I wasn’t ready. Nothing ever prepares you for a dentist’s report. Or any other doctor for that matter.

Throughout the meeting, we went over how technology has now simplified work, how easy and fast it is now to design and 3D print a tooth (to replace any that have been lost). How exactly easy and somewhat painless it is now to get things fixed up. 

My take from the meeting though was, oral health is actually a very high priority and it is a personal choice. It goes down to how often you need to brush, what toothpaste to use for specific results or better yet, when to start cleaning your children’s or pet’s teeth (😄), what to eat to stay orally healthy.

You may not really have as many cavities as I, it is still okay to be intentional about your eating habits, embracing fresh and all-natural food-stuff, and going the extra  mile of consulting a professional. I found Dr. Steven to be very friendly and so helpful. 

“Don’t eat stuff that have long shelf lives. If it doesn’t go bad, it’s not healthy for your teeth.” – Dr. Steven Mugabe, Code Dental

As for you and your personal Oral health, contact a dentist today. I promise you, cavity prevention is way cheaper than the cure. 

Aren’t we glad that the days when dental pain relief meant getting rid of your teeth altogether are behind us? 

No, you don’t smile like that while at the dentist.

Follow #WOHD17Ug on twitter for more about what we learned at Code Dental.

Photography by Pius Enywaru.

Last 2016 Sighs. . .

​The never melodramatic but beautiful melancholy sounds of this slow anthem they sang when these half and incomplete pieces of memories from a battered past finally met the wholeness of the future promised, became the fulness of joy in my house.

Her shoes at my door spilled and spoke of the depth of poetry that the heavens dined on as they sang their toes off to a new reign of peace to be forever enjoyed and mastered.

The life she oozes when she arrives at your door, leaves many a man awestruck by her power.

Oh, dear wisdom, will you take me and be mine. Throughout the tales of time, all majestic adorns of grace and honor upon my head be bestowed.

Please, together with me, let’s melt the ice of impatience as we teach a grace only you have made me experience.

Will you marry Me tonight? So, we can consumate our marriage before the turn of this clock, for 2017 shall be our first child, not born of lust or flesh but of your essence, treasure, spirit and nature.

Sing to me all night long, all those love songs you kept tucked away for your lover for a night like this.

I’ll intimately hum to the beat of your sultry heart as we deliberately cause the earth to shutter under us, bringing together the Heaven and the earth for the Majesty of this day! Come away with me, 2017 awaits!

Happy 2017 folks!



It’s 3 O’clock in the morning and I can’t help but linger longer all over the need that I have for you. This loud and ferocious roar of my heart, every time I miss you, always reminds me of the unforgiving and delicious scent of your lips on mine.

I’m afraid to dream because I don’t know whether I’ll see your large smile beside me when I wake, or if I do, I’m afraid and I worry that it could be the worst hullucination ever.

So, I wear your smile and arm myself with the reflection of it like a garter in my dreams lest I be damned to wake up to the absence of your sweet whispers.

Every night is a tad darker now that you’re gone and not here, there’s nothing in this room that played with the light so well like your eyes. Every thing else is blunt. Always reflecting bits of your sunshine and warming me down deep in my soul.

Most nights I hear you say, “I feel alright” just to wake up to the boring swish of the fan. Never did I think I’d miss your soft snores so bad.

The water runs and all I can think about is how your giggles always perfectly bounced off the marble, leaving me woke in all the right places.

Is it just me or does the splash of the water sound so beautiful and heavenly when you’re in the shower? 

I had better not lose my mind until I get that old feeling I always got when you walked through that door and straight into my waiting arms. Wake me up from this bad dream and remind me of what it means to love dangerously. 

Yours truly,


The Sound Of My Room

If you have watched a woman shred notes like they didn’t care, you need to meet Lari. 

Meet Lari

She is one person I’ve learned, let’s her fingers speak what is in deep and hidden underneath. Truth said, she’s a rockstar. She loves to jam crazy licks, slurs and cram way too many notes into a bar, so effortlessly and more beautifully. Her touch and guitar accent (yes, there’s such a thing as a guitar accent) is so uniquely and only attributed to her soul.

The Sound Of My Room (the single) is the track that left me all drenched in too many kinds of feels. Rarely does she go all acoustic and solo. On this she, took me on a trip into her room (her heart) and this acoustic piece spoke truths she might never have wanted the whole world to learn about. She didn’t mean to solo to the sound of her room but her heart. In one track, I tasted her feels, pain, joy and mostly the questions of life itself. 

If she ever did have a tragic experience, this track gave a seeking soul a glimpse of the abyss she has had to sink into and maybe drag herself out of. Or whoever she wrote this song for must have had such an experience. I don’t want to assume too much.

I came to write about her here because, there was no way I was going to let such a great storyteller get away with ruining (in a good way) my taste for the beauty that is a female guitar player. It’s one of those moments, you hold onto your headphones, and wish your girlfriend played as good as she.

Untitled 3 – #UgBlogWeek 

The end of the road isn’t normally narrow. The end of a day should not be mellow. The end of a regime isn’t meant to be the shallow end. The end of the tunnel is never the focal, or is it? Or the light thereof, brightest?

The end of her heart seemed to not agree. It felt narrowed, so mellow, hollow, if not empty. Nothing made sense except to a small extent, the one, now, oh so dim, ray of hope she had, lit up to date by the scriptures she’d always treasured.

The meaning of which, she agreed with the rest of the world, she didn’t need. Only the experience of it. The tears, had run out but none made cancer ever gentle to her 20- something year old son. 

Two young daughters he had, a beautiful wife in a beautiful home. A flourishing and ever growing stretch of youth, learning daily from him. Forging ways forward in the kingdom and their lives, off the counsel and wisdom he gave.

Years of suffering with a number of ailments herself, she’d prayed and asked to give her life for his. Only, nobody listened. The sound of her heart breaking and shattering was so loud as she watched her son painfully breathe his last. 

Oh, she cursed everything that took him away from her, from his daughters. She cursed cancer for stealing the light in his eyes, she lamented. Nobody knew or felt the pain. Only his wife, now the widow. Sigh!

Cancer is a curse that should never visit your house, rest in peace George Lwanga.

Untitled 2 – #UgBlogWeek (#OryemaReturns)

The evening skies were extra starry, so bright and right or ripe for some cheesy mischief. It had been quite the silence, so, he stretched his arm out, only to find her frozen fingers. Startled, she disguised her wandering attention with a near-whisper scoff. 

He scooped her closer and went on to muse about the brightness of the midnight sky. He searched in the dark for her eyes halfway into his musing, It hit him, she’d been here but not exactly been. Her eyes or the hollow whites he stared right into, spoke so loud that an ugly ache bitterly etched and ebbed right in the middle of his chest. 

He stared blankly, wanting and craving so much to ask a million questions but not knowing how to even start. Why was she this cold? Why had she, with time, slowly scooted farther away into the dark night? Why was her mind wandering away yet she’d invited him here? He needed to know, so he decided it didn’t really matter how that happened. He was going to know!

He kissed her forehead, and just then he noticed the tears; which now freely flowed uncontrollably. 

Man. The questions he now had would for sure have proven very useful in trying to explain why people would demonstrate against the recent U.S elections result.

She’d silently hoped he’d see her pain sooner, but it had taken the fool three grand stories, a thousand twitter trailer jam sessions, a couple of nonsensical soccer jokes, a huge cup of untouched and already molten ice cream for him to notice. Who created men? She wondered. For what it was worth, she knew if tonight went well, it’d be the last she’d see him.

A couple more minutes of disturbing silence. She knew she’d have to come out straight and say it, caring not for what might happen thereafter. If anything, she knew she’d suggested they come to this hill intentionally. It wasn’t as steep as the rest, if anything were to happen, she’d not be hurt as much, she hoped.

Twisting out of his now-very-possessive hold, she wiped her eyes and looked away into the dark, past his shadow and she whispered, “Oryema, Geoffrey Oryema is coming back home”


Untitled – #UgBlogWeek

The taste of the last ounces of that poison (we’ll call it poison because it’s illegal) is fading by the minute and she’s still standing, stark sober and unphased. It works like a charm, they said. Her pain overshadowed whatever effect any drug could ever have. 

She drags her bloody body down the street toward her last painful draw of breath. The rain furiously coating her burning anxiety, she couldn’t have cared less about how ruffled her hair now was. Having relied mostly on liquor and any abuse-able drug available on the market  (black), nothing had brought her anywhere closer to the last straw, she had had it.

There she stood in the middle of the road, the pain of having to admit to herself that she had lost all her wits. She knew it was all her fault. She let it happen. Saw the signs, and she just let herself slip deeper into this black hole.

No one had had the time to listen to her distorted and uncoordinated rumblings about a darkness that existed in a seemingly perfect and healthy relationship. 

“It’s just an episode” they said. Rubbishing it off, drawing conclusions about how she must feel. When they were kind enough, they’d suggest how she was supposed to feel or treat the same fool who had found a perfect landing for his fists whenever he felt the urge.

Her agony now painted the skies a shade of grey, darker than the demons that haunted her. Slowly, as life slipped out of her, a bright red smile crept up on her as she saw a bright light come ever closer. And a strong angel towered over her with his protective woolen wings.

She gathered up all her strength and whispered to him, “I waited all my life for you.” She knew then, she’d never have to cry again.

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