Posted in Poetry


Words built in the air forming sentences that pushed themselves into my being. My vision started to get blurry, my being contracted and stiffened in response. I felt something in my throat, blocking the flow of the clean God given oxygen into my lungs. My hands in response shot up to try to soothe the lump away but it won’t bug.

The body I once carried so effortlessly, suddenly, felt heavier like an extra 100 kilograms were just dropped on me. Eyes searching, asking, pleading for help, but the words needed did not form in my mouth, I simply sank to the welcoming earth. Holding on to it, clawing, digging in to it. I felt a sharp pain like a needle pierced into my eyes to the back of my head and just like that I entered the darkness.

Echoes, I can hear echoes of phrases in the distance. Mpenzi wangu! Mpenzi wangu! My love! My love! The voice, there is something about that voice. The arms that held me brought comfort, diffusing through my skin, transported by my veins to settle in the center of my being.

My heart, with great effort, took control of my body and eventually I opened my eyes. Drawing the image in front of me into focus I tried to register the situation that am in. As if confusion was written on my face in caps lock, the image spoke. The chain of words that came from it, a body that I felt comfortable cuddled in, brought nothing but grief.

That’s when the trembles began.

Posted in Inspire, Poetry


The lover’s footprint in the sand

the ten-year-old kid’s bare feet

in the mud picking chili for rich growers,

not those seeking cultural or ethnic roots,

but those whose roots

have been exposed, hacked, dug up and burned

and in those roots

do animals burrow for warmth;

what is broken is blessed,

not the knowledge and empty-shelled wisdom

paraphrased from textbooks,

not the mimicking nor plaques of distinction

nor the ribbons and medals

but after the privileged carriage has passed

the breeze blows traces of wheel ruts away

and on the dust will again be the people’s broken


What is broken God blesses,

not the perfectly brick-on-brick prison

but the shattered wall

that announces freedom to the world,

proclaims the irascible spirit of the human

rebelling against lies, against betrayal,

against taking what is not deserved;

the human complaint is what God blesses,

our impoverished dirt roads filled with cripples,

what is broken is baptized,

the irreverent disbeliever,

the addict’s arm seamed with needle marks

is a thread line of a blanket

frayed and bare from keeping the man warm.

We are all broken ornaments,

glinting in our worn-out work gloves,

foreclosed homes, ruined marriages,

from which shimmer our lives in their deepest truths,

blood from the wound,

broken ornaments

when we lost our perfection and honored our imperfect

sentiments, we were blessed.

Broken are the ghettos, barrios, trailer parks where gangs duel to death,

yet through the wretchedness a woman of sixty comes riding her rusty bicycle,

we embrace

we bury in our hearts,

broken ornaments, accused, hunted, finding solace and refuge

we work, we worry, we love

but always with compassion

reflecting our blessings

in our brokenness

thrives life, thrives light,

thrives the essence of our strength,

each of us a warm fragment,

broken off from the greater

ornament of the unseen,

then rejoined as dust,

to all this is.

by Jimmy Santiago, 1952.

Posted in Inspire


Philippians 3:3
For we are the circumcision, which worship God in the spirit, and rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh.

Who is a REAL CHRISTIAN? This is a wide topic, I have to admit, believing that by the grace of God and the guidance of the Holy Spirit you will find words that will bring an awakening into your life. Will make you put your life on the weighing scales of the Word and check yourself. Let us judge ourselves lest we be judged.

In a world where, there are so many churches and people seem to have a religious aspic in everything they do. Living lives so organized that one may envy or be influenced by it. On Sundays, people flock and fill the pews in different churches all over the world to sing, pray and more so to listen to the Word. But now, there’s always something astonishing about this, every church has their own doctrine, teachings, systems and order of doing things. And every member of each congregation will stand boldly and claim that their church or their pastor, bishop or priest is right. The truth of the matter is that there’s a lot of confusion in all this.

The wind blows where it listeth;
though cannot tell which way
it come or where it’s going.
So is everyone who is a christian
that’s borned of the Spirit.

Paul wrote in Romans 10: 2 – 4 ; “For I bear them record that they have a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge. For they being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God. For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone that believeth.” Paul was speaking of the Israelites at that time, though now it seems we are falling along the same path hence the critical question… Who is a REAL CHRISTIAN?

Posted in Poetry



Living day after day, till it feels like, we are just surviving.
Holding on, to a string that may give in and we fall down to a bottomless hole.
Seems like, the way down never ends, it goes on and on and on.
Our eyes clear as crystal though we are surrounded by destitution.

Tears have been shed so often a time that,
It seems pointless to continue with such a pitiful act;
Our hearts beating at an accelerated rate as if its on fire yet its so freezing out here.
Our history showing a few victories, but far in between our lowest points.

This challenge before me whose breath seems to dim the sun with it’s fumes…
It raises so many a wounded thoughts that I find hard to endure;
Reliving that day over and over again till I can’t take it no more!
Can I please just teleport to another dimension where am free from my own conscious?

Well, I might be down right now but am not out,
A stubborn spirit you might think I have,
A naive one perhaps to not realizing my predicament.
I believe I know this situation better, for its mine you see?
Say no and I will surely carry on.

Posted in Inspire


Jesus loved when there was nothing to love, with us so rotten in sin

If He kept on giving to an extent that there seemed nothing was there to give

If He cared for me, a person so lost in this world that has consumed my being

That the wise and prudent deemed profitable that it was best to end this life

The thoughts of men pierced through my conscious

Dug into my heart which was unguarded with effusiveness.


Is it mockery that I hear at a distance?

Is it discrimination that I’ve received?

Is it an act that seems to others so just or unjust?

Is it control that words so simple have on me?

That I cry to the One…

Take heart, take courage, take every strength within me!


What’s this bitter and heavy feeling that has sunk in me

That chokes the very air that I enjoy in in freedom seems confined away from me

There is no way to please is there?

Every effort made with a clear conscious ends up being discriminated,

the least criticized.

Only to realize later that my sins are as far away from His thoughts…

I don’t know what’s far from yours


You are going to keep giving

You are going to keep loving

You are going to keep getting hurt

Because that’s the way life is

Leaning on One whose heart never tires

Whose body is patient to labor on

Whose mind is insatiable of thinking about you.


As in a garden, flowers knot their diverse odor to make a more sweet savor

As in music, poets bring diverse strings which cause a more delicate consent

As in art, a painter mixes more colors that bring a magnificent counterfeit

We bring all our imperfections to show the majestic nature of Christ.

Posted in Inspire


It is a Friday, a day that I feel that it should be a better day for all who are employed get the chance to wind up. It is a day that he was just called by his boss, his ultimate boss on the issue of non-performance, a stuff that he did out of defiance rather than out of the norm, he is not a guy to follow rules because he believes that rules are meant to be broken and that he will be able to break them when situation allows. He was in such a good mood and he knew he will solve it with his boss if and when time allows, on that day he decided to pass the rarely traveled path to the city center.

Nearing the end of the street he sees two men, he knows that they may be bad guys but he decides to soldier on, it’s a risk but the romances of life are the risks that you take in life; he argues, they say hi and ask for a fag, he just passes heart in mouth, and says he does not have a fag, even if he had I doubt whether he would actually accept to stand and say “Hi I have a fag can I help?” it doesn’t work that way!! Still he goes on, life goes on, and it’s the rhythm of life.

He reached the destination shaken but safely, thanks God for the safe trek, its been a while since the guy was in the company of his friends. It’s a nice company and he loves the company. They do their thing, it’s a Friday you know and his meeting with the boss went on better than he expected. He is happy to unwind. He is lucky to see the Friday, he chooses to ball.

Its ten pm when he finally checks the watch, he decides its time to hit the road, he has to sleep early because he has stuff to attend tomorrow even though it’s a weekend, I think even his weekends are more cluttered than his weekdays. So he hits the road to a place in another province a place in another county, a place far from his present position. It is always good to arrive early and he is against coming home after 8pm but today he makes an exception but he feels that if he dies today, he saw it coming. He doesn’t have a will as at now but he is in the process of making one. He will be sure to finish it in time for the death meeting.

He arrives safely, well not home but at his nearly final destination. He is delighted and relieved that he arrived alive. And so he walks to his place as is his routine, on the way about 100 meters to the final destination, he meets a car, a Toyota fielder, it speeds past then slows down, a person alights then says “usijaribu hata kukimbia” – don’t dare run. It’s a phrase that he has heard that people hear when they are about to be mugged. But he is not ready to get mugged neither is he ready to die. He decides to take his chances and moves like a mad bull.

It is the fastest he has sped since running in Mt Kenya. In the background he can hear shots fired, he can’t tell whether they are real or fake, it doesn’t matter anyway; it is only safe that he gets away from the gunshots. Maybe his life will be spared and he will leave to tell the tale and see a new day. He manages to dodge the bullets, or rather the bullets somehow don’t get him, so this thing doesn’t only happen in movies, he thinks, it can also occur in real life, he laughs at that thought. That shooter must be the worst ever shooter in the history of shooting. How do you miss a target at a distance of 50 meters? That guy must have been getting washouts in range competitions, he laughs again. The irony! Laughing while death is staring you in the face, does it get any psycho than this? Ha!

Unexpectedly, he slips and falls, he is sure that he was being followed, but he cant see anyone who comes to harass him, or worse still tries to mug him. Funny, he thinks, how can it be? He is still confused and shaking, but he is not terrified, he has his head intact. Never panic in these circumstances. When death comes it should find you sober, not crying like a little girl.  He stands up and continues running, running scared. Its funny how you don’t get tired when you are in danger, he chooses not to go to his normal residence because it’s naturally locked. He bypasses it and moves to the next homestead. Nyumba kumi has not worked really because he does not even know his immediate neighbor, funny and sad at the same time.

He calls the owners to let him in, they don’t bulge, because they don’t know him, its funny that you can die in front and in the midst of your friends, ahh well… it’s life isn’t it?  Finally after what seems like eternity, he musters the courage to move out, the road is clear and so finally he reaches his final destination, bruised, shaken, tired but sober. It is such a good feeling to be home finally, the day was 7th of November, and he decides that one day he will write about the experience… He was supposed to die, somehow, he is not dead, somehow he survived, and somehow he is alive and well. The line between life and death is so thin that it can be crossed without one not noticing it. Careful not cross that line before your time has come.


Words from a soldier.

Posted in Inspire


Does anybody know that you are a believer? Do the people around you know that what you believe in and the god you serve? If not, then since when did the message become your own personal secret for no one else to know? God did not send a prophet to this generation so that your testimony would become a mystery! We wonder why many among us are falling along the way. Well a lot of Christians are too worried about other people’s opinion that they forget the opinion of God. Too busy trying to save themselves yet God already came and saved us.

When you go to your school and your job can someone tell by your actions that you believe in God? Or they can’t tell the difference between a believer and a non believer; what you believe and how you act? Because you might be the only example they have. We are all called to be living epistles read of all men. And if they cannot tell the difference between your walk and their walk, then they aren’t going to follow the right path for just living your life is a shouting ministry to another.

I don’t know what’s worse: nobody out there knowing that am a believer, or the only people who know am a believer are those who go to the same church as me, being branded a believer by my number of attendance to the church or the life that I truly live majority of the times. We have to understand that people have sacrificed their lives to spread this message of love. Paul considered being in prison a privilege that he did not even for once murmur but saw it as an opportunity to preach to more souls and they got saved. Yet we get the time t be concerned about what other people may think or believe? What if Jesus was more concerned about other people’s opinion? What if he took time to think about what the Pharisees thought of him, than the salvation that he gives?

The gospel tells us that we should be the light of the world, that we should go ye and spread the word. But does the light really illuminate, or does the world dominate? We chose to go with the flow instead of choosing to glow. We would rather fit in the crowd, instead of choosing to stand out. It feels weird to be the odd one out, but we mingle with the unbelievers despite the doubt. A lamp should not be hiding under a bushel, but we often cover our Christianity under a gravel. We are more often than not, we are guilty of not sharing the gospel, we feel like people will dispel, we are too shy to stand with the truth, because we lack the backbone or a true grit.

How will the gospel be spread if we can’t stand and defend it, if we can’t stand but sit. We are the ambassadors of peace, who will propagate this message, to represent the heavenly kingdom, the sinner to have a safe passage. That they may know the Lord and obtain mercy, to be reconciled with the Lord and escape his wrath. But how will they know if they are not told, or shown the way to come to the fold. How will the blind man see the ditch, if someone will not his hand reach? Where will the lost get get redemption, if there is no one to show them towards salvation. The Lord has given us the great commission, but we have chosen to make it the great omission. The lion hath roared, who will not fear? the Lord GOD hath spoken, who can but prophesy?



Posted in Inspire


Philippians 3:20

For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.

There is a journal that I saw for a certain young lady which was back dated to the time she was in high school. It wasn’t fancy at all, her conversations where short and quite simple. It had entries which just captivated me, conversations to God.  It’s human to forget our prayers that when God answers them in His own good time we don’t see it as an answer to one of our prayers. This lady’s accounts remind her of her prayers and knows that God answers them for she remembers. There is so much testimonies that she can give with a clear account that her faith in God is so much stronger each day. A clear account of her short comings and disappointments and the answers given to her of her prayers. There is one day that she specified the exact date when her prayer was answered, February the 22nd.

Here is one of her so many entries.

Dear God,

Lord I am sorry for being busy in my revision that I haven’t written to You, please forgive me.  Sometimes, actually all days, I do mistakes over and over again. My fallen nature always pushing me back to where I started from, that I feel like I can’t do this anymore. I acknowledge the sins that I have committed and please do forgive me.

Lord, so many times I have come to You with a selfish motive in mind to ask you and you have always granted it to me for you are my Father. Today Lord, I request for nothing, I just want to thank You for being there for me when I was high and when I was low, when I was happy and when I was sad, when I was strong and when I was weak. You are faithful to me for always listening to me and doing what is best for me. Importantly, I thank You for entering into my heart and letting this life I live to be Yours and mine. The sweet joy that you brought makes me glow and the peace within is so comforting. Thank you.

I pray through the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.


There so many prayers that God answers that we don’t remember praying for. Just because we do not remember doesn’t mean He isn’t listening. It is important to always remember our conversations with God. I pray to God to always keep us in remembrance.

Posted in Inspire, Poetry


I desire with much much more desire to be here in thy presence,

Lifting Your name as we partake of this cup, for You said that;

I will become flesh and blood just for you,

I will be bruised and scorned to have you,

I don’t care if they will mock me,

For the love I have for you is stronger and

I desire with much much more desire to have communion with you.


It was just another day like before

That I knelt here in Thy presence

With tears in my eyes and sadness over me

I didn’t have to speak so You may understand.

It’s just amazing You knew where to meet me.

The comfort that I felt as the cool gentle breeze pass through

Swept over me and peace came within

That stirred something deep within me

A great desire, a much much greater desire to have communion with You.


As a Christian, how will you know you are His and He yours?

I read in the Bible great stories of David, Esther, Samson and Solomon

How small David was when he faced Goliath,

He was just a shepherd boy who stood and become the most praised.

Esther, being an orphan, society deemed her unworthy of the role of a Queen.

Job stooping so low from being the richest to the poorest, being respected to discriminated.

So I don’t care for the hope uncondemns me to a fate of defeat and

I will come with a great desire, much much greater desire to have communion with You.

Posted in Inspire, Poetry


There are many voices in my head, so much trouble lies within my heart

Fear has gripped me of the very air that I enjoyed in solitude

The thunder rolls as if it was disturbed from its slumber

HUSH! Craving for the silence I cried out to anyone

Is there even someone who will listen to me?

Just a person who lost their sense of belonging

Rather lost her humanity, as is rumored.


The motion caused a chain of reaction

Thought I could do it by myself, thought I was strong enough

Lost a couple of points and my starboard spanned out of control

No change in position without a motion

There is no rise without a price

The price is too high and am losing my sanity.


An urgent reorientation to change this state of mentality

A force so gentle and strong to give a spiritual rise in me

Lord! Do what is required to get what You desire in me

What is demanded in your plan and not, in my view, convenient

Creating unquestionable waves along I will gladly accept.


I want you to know that it’s alright with me

I want you to know that I’m fine with it

For you understand me better than I do myself

I will be still, knowing that You are the God of refuge

Kwani si njia rahisi ya kwenda mbinguni.


La! La! Si njia rahisi

La! La! Si njia rahisi

Kutembea na Yesu

Huongoza safari ,mazito huya rahisisha.