Betrayal




 I celebrated my 4th birthday in Uganda on Monday.
With an old friend and his friends, which was special in many ways.
Later someone asked me what I was celebrating.
And  it's many things, being here -alive, learning , growing , thriving .
The theme for 2018 for me has been learning.
 And my(now) favourite has been learning how to handle betrayal.
Distance -physical and emotional , venting and perspective helped me process.
The relationships are  cracked and no amount of remodeling will hide the rupture.
And I'm finally okay with that.
Will cherish the times we had and the enormous impact they had on me.
One of the toughest things to do was to shush the pain and hurt, refuse it to cloud everything.
Next was fighting to own and take this as a reflection of me. Still struggling with that

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Wish

Image
Wish there was a place I could go to. And air out my grievances,as an African Christian. I struggle with  how the Church laid the foundation for colonialism. The teachings have been used, over time, as a tool for the subjugation of women, to justify racism, slavery ,homophobia ,abuse Femininity has been shamed, condemned and the yardstick for morality is female sexuality. Who else is milking my faith and what are they using it for? How much of what I believe is manipulated  and how much is real?And what does real here mean I've heard over the years that I must choose between being African and being Christian. Must I? Where can I get some, if not all of these answers? Without being judged , shamed or guilted?
Read more

Kintu

Image
Kintu, by Jeniffer Nansubuga is now my favourite African book. It's a superb, well told tale. Living in Uganda, it took on a special significance. My favourite character is Isaac Newton, and he has one of the saddest stories in the clan. Miisi, the one, in my opinion, who pays highest price for the curse, is a writer for a local newspaper and he wrote one of the best imageries about colonialism I have come across. Ekisode Buganda, unlike the rest of Africa, was sweet-talked onto the operating table with praises and promises.Protectorate was the plastic surgery to set the sluggish African body on a faster  route to maturity. But once under chloroform, the surgeon was at liberty and did as he pleased. First he severed the hands then cut off the legs and he put the black limbs into a bin bag and  disposed of them. Then he got European limbs and set upon grafting them on the black torso. When the African woke up, the European had moved into his house. Though the Afric...
Read more

Motherhood penalty

Image
  Of course I've heard of it. The theory that there's a price mothers pay in the the workplace for well, being mothers. I'd never thought of it till recently. My daughter and nephew came home after schools were closed in Mid March and I'm the sole parent. Five and a half months later, they travelled to  Kenya and are now staying with my sister and her family in Mombasa. In the five weeks they've been away, I have attended a 3 day off site team retreat and visited 2 branches for 5 days. I am typing this from a hotel room, on a 3 day field visit to a 3rd branch. The only way I am able to travel this extensively and for long periods is because I no longer have care giving duties. I'm lucky that my remuneration isn't directly tied to these field trips. Millions of working mothers aren't and have to make difficult choices. My heart aches for all of us.
Read more