Dear God
Thank you for 2016!
Thank you for all the lessons learnt this
year.
In 2016 I made it a habit to start my prayers
with gratitude because I got tired of negative talk taking up too much time
and energy in our daily chats. I learnt about the power of my words. Thank you
for the battles you fought that I didn’t see, the fires you put out that I witnessed,
and the gifts you gave that were especially for me. This time you didn’t have
to spiritually pinch my ears because I wasn’t being too stubborn to listen.
Amen for periods of growth. Maybe that
is one of the greatest things about being human. We can change, we can grow
internally. We can become a better self.
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| Taken from Goodreads |
I made a vision board at the beginning of
this year! I put a lot of inspirational quotes and lists of things I wanted to
do. I didn’t achieve EVERYTHING maybe like 50% but it give me direction. I have
achieved quite a lot this year, even though it wasn’t on the vision board. I
consider those part of the gifts you gave me this year. I think I might be
moving towards organizing myself, my life, my present and my future… I am that
women that I always used to read about in books who’s taking charge of her
life! But I don’t want to say it out
loud in case I frighten myself right back into chaos and the scary unknown again.
As you know, I prayed a lot this year. Towards
the beginning of 2015, my Aunty brought a prayer warrior to the house just for me. At
first I was like ‘WHAT!?!’, but you can’t tell Ugandan aunties ‘No, Thank you.’,
especially when she thinks your life is spiraling, so I told this soldier of
God’s army all my ‘challenges’ and ‘my hopes’ for the future, as my aunty
sat behind her and nodded encouragingly at me. The prayer warrior rolled out
her mat, positioned her cross and bible, lit some candles and cried out to you
on my behalf. I must admit it’s kind of special having someone lament and pray
for you. I have to say I felt a little relived afterwards. When she was done
the prayer warrior gave me a list of psalms to commit to saying everyday. I
have stuck to it as best as can, I would give myself 80% pass rate this year
and 100% for effort made to communicate with you. Although, I did talk to
you every day, there were just some days I missed out on the serious ritual of
prayer. I kept a regular schedule of morning and evening prayers when possible,
there were also those random silent prayers at work and in the car on the way
home and don’t forget those quiet moments in the garden. those were helpful!
 |
| Taken from Goodreads |
Through prayer sessions, I practiced
forcing myself to let go. First I would pray to you. Then, I’d ask you for
help or an answer. Lastly, I would let go and wait. This is something
I need to take into all my relationships; to say what I have to say and not feel
responsible for someone’s response. God, you’ve
playfully thrown answers back at me in
some strange wonderful ways. From songs on the radio, to people bringing the answer into
random conversations, and books coming my way. I think you have also conveniently
used google as way to stalk your people and communicate with them. I know I have
seen it in action. You are an interesting one God…
In 2016 I took time to seize fruitful
opportunities, by meeting new people, attending events and continue with my
writing. I went to Sipi falls by myself here’s the blog post, I attended writing
workshops, again here are some of blog posts, I even met Doreen, the author of
Tropical Fish here’s the blog post. I
finished my Goodreads book challenge in fact I doubled it from 6 to 12 books. I
am back in the reading game! I met Sumayya Lee. Her book ‘The Story of Maya’ is
one of my favorite books this year. It was such a welcome surprise of a book,
nothing like I had expected. I also met Michelle Wrong and she signed my book! The Writivism festival was one of my favourite experiences
this year. I took my Aunty to the one woman play starring Maimouna Jallow, inspired by the book ‘Secret Life of Baba Segi’s Wives’; We could
not stop laughing. I watched a great play written by Aganza Kisaka called 'Black'. But the ultimate experience this year was the Writing Retreat.
Atleast every month I have blogged. In January, I collected stories from women around
me. Here they are. The project was inspired by me reaching the third decade in my life.
I felt I needed to define myself and take full control of the reigns. I am not
leaving my life to fate anymore. I shall create the life I want as best as can.
By the way I wore a bikini for the first time ever! YASSSSSSSS…girl. I shall keep buying more for future holidays, baecations and the upcoming honeymoon…
This was the year I almost owned an iphone,
but it was stolen…wamp….wamp…
As always I am grateful for friends and
family the amount of venting I have done on my life story this year, and the
amount of reassuring they have provided. Lord please continue to listen to
their prayers and bless them for their patience. Don’t forget to bless me for
my patience too! Cause there were days when I needed the strength to listen and
wisdom to handle them gently too!
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| Taken from Goodreads |
More symbolic of the journey I have taken
this year is the new dress I had made this month. One of my Aunties gave me some
fabric years ago and my unorganised self kept it stashed away. This year I finally
decided it must be turned into something! My Cousin sewed it together but
before she did, she took time to ask me what I wanted. I told her right down to
the last detail and she produced exactly what I asked for. I came home and found the delivery on my bed.
I feel like I was entering 2017 complete. I chose something for myself which
was good. This is big for me because it means I can trust myself again. I can
chose well for myself.
I think I am more confident in who I am. I
know what I would like do or achieve in this life, and I am comfortable with
what I am not and probably won’t achieve. This means that my prayers will not be wayward and confused, and as I have written so many
times on this blog in my letters to you, I shall go down the path you are revealing. I have
a post-it note by my desk with my personal development training goals for 2017.
All of them are connected to being creative or atleast exploring creativity.
Also let’s discuss this whole dating thing.
Now there’s an area that surely needs the revisit of the prayer warrior. You
are the God who moves mountains… you parted the red sea!!! Explain the possible
minuscule hiccup with my dating life then please !?! Surely you can ensure 2017
is full of good dates with possible husband material? I guess we will continue
this conversation in the new year...
So here’s to 2017!
Cause the Maria that is
showing up is really COOL! I like her. She’s not perfect but she’ll definitely do
for now. Where have you been hiding her? She shall be making
more appearances in the coming years that’s for sure!
And finally…..Lord,
I ask for wisdom, guidance, protection,
love, attention, presence and all that you think is necessary for me, my family
and my friends in 2017
My prayer is that you continue to work in
people’s lives, most especially when they call. I pray that you work in ways
that they can see and understand your presence, and that they can also enjoy growing in their relationship
with you as I have this year.
Lot’sa love
Maria XOXO
 |
| Here I come 2017! |
Did you know last year in December 86 cases of stolen mobile phones worth shs 50.3 million were reported in Kampala?
I don’t know about you, but shs50.3million
is a lot of money to me! Christmas is looming. Tis’ the season of landlords/landladies tormenting their tenants,
debts and bills needing to be paid, children needing to be fed, wives needing a
reason to stop nagging, relatives starting to demand, and mistresses needing to
be kept quiet. With that in mind, it becomes quite discernible to see why financially-vulnerable
individuals are turning into professional phone thieves given the levels of
unemployment. It’s an easy side job to maintain that doesn’t require an ‘education’.
One need only google phone theft to
see that it is growing into a lucrative ‘illegal’ industry all over the
world. If a phone can’t work in the country
it was stolen in, it’s simply shipped across the borders and sold to a willing
customer. In January 2016 the numbers increased, 104 cases of phone theft were recorded in Kampala. Luckily shs7.5 million worth of phones were recovered and 34 cases actually made it to court. Wouldn't it be useful to enforce legislation that makes it
extremely troublesome for stolen phones to enter the market? I think high end brands
like Apple are moving towards that….
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| Holiday Season makes us vulnerable to theft.. |
According to Uganda Communications Commission, Twenty three million people in Uganda are mobile phone users, six million of those users have smart phones. Our phones enable
us to virtually coordinate our personal and professional lives effortlessly. It’s
totally changed the way we work because now our employers know we are available
24/7. I know I am not the only person, who’s developed a peculiar attachment to
my phone. We record moments in our day on our phones through pictures, audio
recordings and videos. Cleverly designed apps connect us to more gadgets, a
tablet, a laptop even security cameras in our homes. Whether we like to admit
it or not some of us have become brand snobs, because the type of phone we have
defines our status in society. We’d all prefer
an iPhone, Samsung or HTC if we can afford it. Some of us haven’t even
purchased a car or a small piece of land, but we would never be caught dead
with specific brands, our dead body would miraculously chuck the phone out of the coffin if they buried us with it. I won’t name names though; the point I am
trying to make is we invest in our phones, on some level they are valuable to
us. Our lives are stored on our smart phones. Heck, Mark Zuckerburg has been developing personal assistant with Morgan Freeman’s voice, which coincidently can be run from a phone!?
And yes some would argue that smart phones
are becoming more accessible to people of different purchasing power, it’s no
longer reserved for the elite few.
Select brands are making affordable smart phones sold at shs300,000 or
more. However not everyone can afford one….. so people steal. I guess it’s important
to note that some thieves are not stealing because they want a smart phone, but
more to acquire the money they get from selling the phone to a dealer, which
is probably pennies compared to the original price of the phone.
This brings me to the point of this blog
post, last week my phones were stolen. My main phone was stolen from right
under my pillow!
The man who stole my phone had been hired
to paint our house over the last two months. Unbeknownst to me, he was given
the perfect opportunity to paint my room while I was away for work in Karamoja.
During that time, I suspect he went through all my things and learnt that the
sliding door in my room was broken.
My second night home back from Karamoja, I
woke up in the middle of the night to find a dark figure in my bedroom
clutching a phone. He took
it from under my pillow! Yes from under my pillow while I was lying on it!? I
thought I was dreaming; it’s an extremely rare occurrence to find a man in my
room with my phone, so it took a while for my mind to process the visual. I quietly stood up on the opposite end from
him, because the stories of thieves hacking people to death in their homes was
now flashing through my mind. What if he had a big panga, or a knife? Should I
scream? How many men did he bring into my room? Have they penetrated the whole
house? From the dim light of the outside security lights peeping through the
net curtains covering the windows, I could see the panic on his face. He
appeared unsure of what to do next. So I used this odd juncture to scream
loudly. He darted out the open sliding door, ran across the balcony and then he
jumped. Fortunately, the security light helped me catch enough of a glimpse to
identify the painter, I ran to the bedroom door and called out for my father,
who was already making his way up the stairs having heard my screams.
“There was a man, a Man, A MAN in my
ROOOOOOM!” I shrieked
My Father had his torch, he reached the balcony
and called for the policeman. By now a mixture of angst and rage was churning
in my stomach because I had recognised the man. I knew for sure it was the painter.
I had watched this man sheepishly work around the house
and thought nothing of him. He rarely spoke and when he did he really took his
time to comprehend what would appear to be a simple question and then respond,
so I assumed he had a speech impediment. He’s eyes with natural slits in the corners, didn’t
match is dark brown skin or his small statue. He always sat on chair in the garage like a lost little boy swinging his short legs. He looked like he’d had a
difficult childhood. He was always fumbling and fidgeting with the paint brush.
All warning sides I ignored. I figured my father knew best. I am now kicking
myself for not ensuring that door was fixed. All the phones in room were gone
including a box of change and an personal security alarm I kept on my desk. My father and the policeman agreed to call the Officer
in Charge(OC) in the morning.
At 9.30pm a policeman arrived on the OC's
behalf , I took him through the whole episode I showed him the abnormally small
footprints on the balcony covered in cut grass. He took a picture with his smart phone. And then low and
behold the idiot painter turned up at 10.00 am clean shaven and dressed for work.
Idiot of all Idiots.
He’d already gotten away with phones. What the
hell was he doing back?
I pointed right at him and told the policeman
“That is the man! That is THE MAN!”
He unexcitedly looked from the piece of
paper from which he was writing my statement and told me he would arrest him
after taking our statements.
“Madam, he thinks that he has gotten away
with it, don’t worry we shall arrest him.” He reassured me.
My
father rushed to secure the house so that the painter could not leave the premises .Eventually after taking our statements the
policeman still with the same calm composure made his way outside, told his
colleague to get out of the car and collect the painter, then they drove to the
police station. They kept him for 48 hours. But before they put him in the cell,
they offered him the chance to give back the phones. He refused. His ‘wife’
called my father multiple times begging for him to be released. But it was in
the Police’s hands now. (The man is going to enjoy his Christmas based on the money
he made off my phones. BahumBUG!!!! I hope karma intervenes on my behalf. )
I wasn’t a fan of registering my sim card
when they started the process. Was it two years ago? But I MUST tell you it’s
the best thing that has ever happened, because I recovered all my data
including the contacts. I also kept my old number. I’d be surprised if my phones
are recovered, and my case is most likely not going to make it to court because
I don’t have the receipts, so apparently
I can’t prove that the phones were mine and therefore I have been advised that the
judge will throw the case out of court.Yap, it will be thrown out court even
though I can identify the thief and caught the desperate fool in the act. I
have also learned that even if you lock
your phone there is a ton of free technology online that will allow the thief
to remove the sim card and unlock it.
It’s three days to Christmas and I am
hearing more and more incidents of theft occurring. We need to be careful they
say. But can’t we just take this phone theft thing a little bit more seriously?
It’s becoming a business….
Thanks for reading.
 |
| Have a Safe & Merry Christmas, Thanks for reading the Happily Flawed Blog this year! |
Here are some useful articles I read
before writing this:
 |
| The Island and Jackee made us friends |
Day 3
My writing muse has no sense of time while on Bulago.
It wakes me up at 3.30 am. Don’t ask me what a
muse looks like because I have no idea! That's why I haven't assigned it a specific gender, all I feel is this persistent nagging
anxiety envelope me. Eventually I give up the tug of war between the thoughts
in my mind and accept the fact that I won’t be drifting back to sleep for a
while. My muse knows we have an important topic to deliberate. The early hours
of the morning are the best times to think through such things. The generator
is off so I use my trusted torch to light up the room. I decide to make my way
to the toilet quietly so as not to disturb everyone’s sleep, but I somehow end
up stepping on every single one of the creakiest of wooden boards along the
way. So much for being quiet….
When I return to
my bedroom, I grab a stash of Jackee’s literary magazines and place them next
to me on the bed. Once I’m adjusted into a sitting position, I start to flip
through each one, totally amazed at all the opportunities in the writing world.
On the boat ride to the island I had asked Jackee
about the possibility of doing a masters in creative writing. I was wondering
whether the experience would be worth it. Anything to do with harnessing inborn
creativity fuels me with energy for life and work, but a masters in creative
writing? Wouldn’t it be a big risk? Masters are a necessary extravagance these
days. The wrong choice can be a painful setback yet the pressure on my
generation to make the right career decisions is immense. We graduated right
into a global depression and every news story at the time told us that we would
inevitable end up earning much less than our parents. So why am I suddenly
thinking about an MFA like some rich family member with a guaranteed inheritance?
I decide that this moment of placidity in the house is
a good opportunity to get down on my knees and pray. I pray for guidance and clarity
of vision.
Today we will
have no classes and no assignments. It will just involve one to one sessions
with Jackee and Crystal about anything we wish to discuss in regards to
writing. I sent my story to them yesterday and I have no intentions of doing any work once
the sun rises.
In fact here is my official To do List :
·
I intend to finish my two books (I have
carried them in my bag for two months. They need to make a permanent exit. Unless
a book is intellectual it should be finished a month from purchase. )
·
Frolic in the pool in my new bikini so
that I can tick wearing a bikini off my bucket list.
·
Take the proposed nature walk around the
island.
·
Enjoy not feeling guilty about focusing on
myself.
·
And of course eat all Alex’s delicious
meals.
 |
| salivating... |
By 5.00 am I hear the pitter patter of rain begin
outside making me drowsy. After excusing myself from my conversation with God,
I sleep for another hour.
With breakfast done. Lynn (one of the participants) and I head to
the beach. She brings her laptop. I bring my books. But we get distracted and
end up turning our quiet time into a spontaneous photo shoot with Zahara. All
the years of watching every single episode of America’s Next Top Model have finally paid off! Tehehehe. Look at that effortless jumping. Cover Girl *wink wink*
 |
| yes that's Lynn jumping with me. |
My session with Jackee and Crystal starts a bit late.
It’s clear my story needs a lot of work but their comments make a lot of sense.
I am learning that one can only grow in their writing with the following three
things.
·
by reading good books
·
practicing
·
and good feedback from mentors, friends,
family and their target audience.
It’s rare to find people who will take the time to
really read and critique your work so this retreat is an opportune moment. I
noticed so many holes in my story through their conscious feedback.
Once we were done, I grabbed my To-Do list and started
following it…..
Did I mention that dinner was a barbecue by the beach
and presents from Jackee?
EUPHORIA!
 |
| Everything tasted as good as it looked in the picture. |
Day 4
I wake up rested. Last year I mourned the fact
that the experience was over so quickly, this time I am not. I am at peace
because I made it back and enjoyed it just as much as I did the first time. I
pack my bags and make my Bulago bed for the last time this week, then I head
for breakfast. There is time to stroll by the beach and have insightful
conversations with some of participants about the last three days. It’s been
magical.
Jackee says Seychelles next year. She had better
furfill her promise because I can’t wait!
 |
| Bye Bye. |
To book your place on the next retreat please send an email to jbatanda@gmail.com
 |
| when your creativity needs a holiday... |
Day 1
I arrive at the beach house in a Special Hire an hour
before the 8.30 am departure time. I am relieved. I silently mutter a prayer of
gratitude that the Kampala morning traffic did not disrupt my schedule or my
mood. The beach house is still the same
as last year. My eyes are yet to see the ACTUAL beach house they refer to on
the yellow dilapidated sign post at the entrance, but that’s another story for
another day.
Neglected outdoor furniture is randomly scattered across
the unkempt lawn. The familiar naked headless lady statue is plonked right in
middle of the garden. Seeing that statue always makes me wonder what the owner
was thinking when he bought it. I mean how many Ugandans actually own a naked
headless lady statue?
If my Jajja was here she would say,
“Did they not have enough money to put clothes on it?”
To which my aunt would reply with a twisted face and
elaborate hand gestures,
“Her stuff is just there… hanging out for all to see!”
Wow! Woooooow, I can’t believe I am attending the
Success Spark Writing Retreat again. This annual writing retreat is run by Jackee Batanda a Ugandan journalist, author, speaker and entrepreneur. Her company Success Spark Brand Ltd is a communications
and educational company.
 |
| Jackee Batanda |
Bulago is a 500-acre island, located in Lake Victoria with a
Villa called One Minute South offering seven bedrooms. Can you imagine
dedicating four whole days on an island to exercise those
creativity muscles and hone those writing skills? This is my second time
attending; I am a returning student.
 |
| One Minute South Villa, Bulago Island |
Last year, I used the retreat as an opportunity to temporarily
absolve myself of all my responsibilities as a daughter, a sibling, and a colleague;
my creative juices flourished as a result. This blog is evidence of that, it
was conceived while on the retreat. My
experience a year ago was so good I had to make it a permanent fixture in my
2016 calendar. However, on this occasion
I have failed to absolve my personal obligations tactfully. Unfortunately, as I
eagerly await for the rest of the retreat participants to arrive, I am carrying
an invisible bag of guilt in my chest.
Yesterday between 8-10pm, I received seven missed
calls, two Whatsapp messages, two Facebook direct messages and one missed Whatstapp
call from my big brother. When I say I ‘missed’ them, what I really mean is I simply
watched my phone buzzing and decided not to respond. My older brother says he ‘can’t
find his ATM card’ and needs some money, but I am leaving behind two other
siblings and a parent in the country, so I feel I have the right to ignore him.
Today, I have hatched a plan. I have decided to befriend my Guilt. We shall
travel together to the island and my theory is that once we get there, my Guilt
will instantly fall madly in love with it and leave me alone for four whole
days. Why? Because the island is so marvellous that he will completely
understand why I ignored my continuously buzzing phone last night.
So, together, we patiently wait for the other writing participants.
Everyone arrives on time except for our award winning
photographer Zahara Abdul. As soon as she arrives and all our luggage is
quickly and tightly strapped to the black rubber speed boat. We zooooooooom
across the lake to the island, with two or three brief stops. I don’t even care
about the brief stops; I am elated that I made it to the boat without having to
give my brother a single shilling! Even more elated as Jackee tells me there
are plans to have the next one in Seychelles next year. Literally BURSTING with
elation as we get further and further away from Uganda and all my responsibilities.
I don’t have time to glance at the scenery, because I am catching up with
Jackee, where has she been? How are the classes going? What are her other
writing students like? She fills me in on all her latest antidotes with her
elaborate facial and voice impressions, and dramatic pauses. I love natural
born storytellers.
 |
| Just arrived on the island! |
Freshly made lemonade greets us at the entrance to the
villa on the island, we empty our sand filled shoes and just pause. We are mesmerised
by our surroundings. The welcoming swimming pool shimmering in the morning light,
the antique filled house and creaky wooden floor boards. Each piece is unique,
it’s impossible to identify which shop or country the furniture was acquired.
All one can establish is that a lot of passion went into creating the ambience.
Everything, and I mean everything including the wood carved man on a bicycle
with a Nile perch strapped to the back, makes it a home, not a hotel.
At 12.00pm the second batch of participants arrive, here
we are all together.
 |
| The whole group! |
After a sumptuous lunch made by Alex the chef (whom we are plotting to kidnap this time
around) we head straight into Character Development with Jackee and Plot Development
with the detail orientated and ever articulate Crystal Rutangye. Crystal is an Editor, published writer and a blogger
(her website is on hiatus). She is the ONLY Ugandan to graduate with a MLitt in
Publishing Studies. After 15 minutes, I realize she is a fabulous addition to
the Success Park Brand, her commitment to helping writers produce good work is
evident, in fact I decide to become her official cheerleader on the island.
 |
| Crystal Rutangye |
By evening Guilt has detached himself from me, he
found some abandoned wooden boat and sailed off into the orange yellow sunset
but before he left he said,
“Put your phone on silent for the next four days, it
will stop that dreadful buzzing. See you on Monday Darling!”
Day 2
 |
| The Glorious view! |
Gloria. GLORIA.
GLOOOOOOORIAAA. GLO O O O ORIIIIIIIIIIIYYYAAAAA
I finally understand the meaning of praise hymns. I could happily praise God all morning today. I
want to run across the beach in mismatched pyjamas singing-shouting this word. But
you know it’s not a good idea to frighten people when you are alone with them
on an island. In our group we have dancers, editors, engineers, lawyers,
presidential advisors, and a conservationist. These are the types of people who
regularly frequent overseas countries for work or study purposes. They cross oceans
on planes as part of their job descriptions!
Therefore these
people might appear in my professional life at some point and I wouldn’t want
them to say,
“Oh yes she was that mad case who ran across the beach
at 5am in morning, possessed by some kind of spirit…”
To avoid inspiring such future conversations and
maintain our cordial relations, I resist the urge go outside by opening the
curtains to revel in my ocean view. Yes I have an Ocean view*! Bambi… did I
forget to mention it earlier? Sorry not sorry. I stare at the harmonious waves
and let my breathing fall into rhythm with them. What I adore about this place
as I said earlier is it’s a home, there is nothing beige like and boring. The owner
poured love into every piece, this villa is full of the fun filled experiences
of all previous inhabitants. Each one of them left a little piece of their
happiness here, creating an invisible bubble of contagious positive energy. I
can’t help but smile.
 |
| can you see the man in the back? |
Breakfast is fresh Ugandan coffee or tea, our choice
of eggs, with sausages, bacon and sliced avocado and tomatoes. The staff are always
pleasant, from the minute we set foot on the dock they have remained
consistently accessible. It is only day two and the participants are already
discussing how best to tip them. Did I
mention I love this place? I red heart emoji this place.
We shy away from each other in the morning, so that we can
take time to write our assigments from yesterday. Around 9.00am we nervously
come together to read our pieces out loud to each other. The fear of rejection is laced in all our deliveries,
but it soon disappears with the escape of snort covered giggles or with each peal of
laughter at the end. The process of revealing our inner thoughts and struggles
about the journey to this island is self-healing. Just like that we are friends,
no longer acquaintances, that’s what the island and Jackee’s personality does
for us. We share our deepest worries about this journey and it subtly unwraps
our restrictive layers and barriers to successful creative writing. Jackee and
Crystal ensure that through our sharing we are learning the technical skills of
good writing. “Taking you from good to great.” She calls it. It’s effortless, my mind is not bogged down
with theory, and the bonding continues to build right through each session of
Self Editing and Settings with Crystal, and Point of View and Dramatic Tension
with Jackee.
The delicious three course lunch slows us down. It stalls
our thinking process during afternoon sessions even after ten cups of coffee. Despite
this discomfort nobody dares miss any of Alex’s meals. Nobody says they have
overeaten or that they are on a special diet. I think even if one of us was allergic
to nuts we would have gleefully eaten groundnut sauce and died at the table
just because dear Alex has taken the time to prepare it. When was the last time you had zucchini soup?
Have you ever eaten Pork Luwombo with baked matooke before? In fact, Jackee prepared a special drink to
boost her metabolism during the four days. We had a shared Ugandan mentality.
We paid in D. O. L. L. A.R.S, for this experience....
We shall eat and we shall enjoy every single meal
placed before us. And we shall threaten our bodies if they dare appear
ungrateful!
All photo credits go to Zahara Abdul/ Success Spark Brand Ltd
If you'd like to book your place on the next retreat please send an email to jbatanda@gmail.com
* It's not an ocean its lake Victoria but 'Ocean view' sounded better...
Making: Our 1st anniversary of this blog. Actually we made it on the 30th October 2016. Wooooo Hoooooo! ( Should I write about it? No. Shall celebrate privately.)
Drinking: Celery Juice. I love it (surprisingly)
Playing: I need to get Nintendo Wii. Super Mario needs to return to my life (feeling unashamed)
Wishing: Still No wishes.
Writing: Non fiction for my blog.
Loving: This decade of my life. Women do get better with age.
Looking: House Stuff. Every time I go to the super market I get stuck in that section. I drool over cake tins, tea sets and table mats... (how!?!)
Eating: Ribs. When I am not eating ribs I am trying to eat healthy. All this information on the Sugar Conspiracy has really made me stop and think about my eating habits. Oh and also the fear of dying early...
Needing: I am good. God is Good all the time! Amen
Wearing: Smiley face earrings. Thanks J's Accessories
Knowing: Time heals all things. It really does.
Thinking: Still pondering on how to best shape my future/life
Giggling Over: Remembering my first crush. Thanks for writing this blog post Kullein
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