tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14626707271408768602024-03-19T13:26:50.581+03:00SilverBowFree Rein to ThoughtSilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-76230642407199932132009-09-14T16:44:00.004+03:002009-09-14T18:12:45.681+03:00laughable scenes from the riotst this very moment, i have to do everything i can to control the nervous shivers in my stomach; my appraisal form, from which it will be determined whether i'm worth my employers pay as permament staff, is at the boss'. so boss looks at it and there is a continuous twitch from his tightly shut lip spreading out to his left side. never seen that before so i dont know whether it is a good or bad thing. "i will need to look at this so u can leave it here. come back later" and here i'm. Waiting, amidst unbearable tension. the recommended options are; confirm, terminate contract, renew contract, prolong confirmation. i only require one ticked; Confirm.<br /><br />In a quest to keep myself from giving in to the nerves, i have wracked my brains for all things funny, or with the slightest ability to make me laugh, each laugh hysterically exaggarated. so i come up with this one from the recent Mu7 vs kabaka riots;<br /><br />In one of the surburbs where the riots were rife, a certain TV station broadcast a certain incident at a homestead that though sad i can't help laughing about. From a certain shack, a door opens slowly to reveal a young boy's head nervously peepig through before cautiously stepping out. he had not seen the many armed soildiers when he peeped so the bulk of them scattered all over the compound kind of got him by surprise.<br /><br />scared shitless, one of the little boy's arms instinctively went to cover his behind and the other, he raised up in the air as if in surrender as he immediately begins to plead,<br />"bambi. njagala kupama. bi anuma bambi, ngenda kupama....."on and on (<em>please, i want to puu, i'm badly off, pse, i'm going to pu....) </em><br />it was an act that softened even the policemen's hearts as one of them gently told the boy to go ahead, as long as he didnt run he would be ok<em>.</em><br /><em></em><br />it was the way he kept the arm to his behind as if to control the urge, or illustrate how badly off he was, orb the surprise and fear of landing right amidst the soildiers...i dont know. but that clip saw me and the girls rolling over in torrents of laughter the whole weekend. and its the only memory keeping me from soiling my own pants in anxiety.SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-23774338236690689142009-09-03T14:40:00.005+03:002009-09-03T15:59:33.947+03:00eating the damn meat. uurrrgggghhhh...I keep getting asked why I don’t eat meat and I’v now run out of seemingly sensible excuses, so I thought I should publish the truth for all to see. that way, (publishing it) I get to only say it once. In case I should end up on a date with either of u bloggers. And you fail the ultimate test; Asking me why I don’t want to eat meat that is.<br /><br />Just so we’r all clear therefore;<br />I hate and avoid eating meat because normally there’s more meat left lodged between my teeth than reaches my stomach. And I’m sure it should be the other way round. So if meat don’t want to do wat’s expected of it when it is eaten, I aint eating it either. Period.<br />Oh, and the task of removing that meat from my teeth! Gosh- it’s so not worth it.<br /><br />That out of the way, how have u all been? I must be the least favorite blogger in everyone’s books and I don’t blame u; I wouldn’t fancy lazy me either. What have I been up to? Booze binges where I come out sober every damn time (too broke to afford getting drunk). And well, I guess it is the activity to meet bloggers at. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/07510825645741095025">Rhino</a>, and <a href="http://sleekandwild.com/">Sleek</a>nWild! Sparta! And <a href="http://www.normzo.blogspot.com/">normzo</a>! Heck, I bet I’l soon meet Emi’s too!<br /><br />And I don’t know why I haven’t met Mudamuli. And Casorzy (save for the fact that I haven’t gone drinking at his house I guess) and many more.<br /><br />And everytime I meet a blogger I’m blown off my feet in some direction; shock, surprise, total confusion… but never ‘ok, so like what I expected.’ People are good at covering up I tell u! ah ah, bloggers should have running videos of their lives playing alongside their blogs walayi.<br /><br />i'm so tempted to write something about my first encounters and impressions vis-avis what i expected whenever i meet one but i doubt i have met enough yet.<br /><br />Haven’t met any that picked my pocket or tapped my behind though, so its all still good and safe. Its been real good actually. But maybe not so fast, there’s still people I need to meet, So now I need to know; where do the following go to drink, (or go for prayers):<br /><a href="http://madandcrazy.blogspot.com/">madandcrazy</a><br /><a href="http://mudamuli.blogspot.com/">Samali Mudamuli Ntikita Ntikita</a><br /><a href="http://carsozy.wordpress.com/">Carsozy's Box</a><br />Eddlove<br />Sato<br />Safyre<br /><br />Etc etc<br />Okay, and many others. These above, come with yo fellow blogger friends<br />Y’all register here, i need to meet you.<br /><br />waitingSilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-11715066568155651412009-07-30T15:38:00.006+03:002009-07-31T09:00:26.181+03:00If u didnt write one of these...<em><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#cc0000;">surely u recieved one</span>...</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;">lulu????????</span></em><br /><br />Dear Sugar<br /> <br />Time and ability plus double capacity has forced my pen to dance automatically on this benedicted sheet of paper. Why! this miraculous thing happened is because papie I love you spontaneously and as I stand horizontal to the wall and perpendicular to the ground I only think of you, since you are a fantastic and fabulous guy. papie please Stop haranguing with the feelings in my heart because I love you more than a snake loves rat. To me each day starts by thinking of you and ends by dreaming of you. Each time I see you my metabolism suddenly stops and my peristalysis goes in reverse gear My medular-oblangata also stops functioning.<br /> <br />Crazy crazy crazy you may say but this is true. If only you knew what is going on in my encephalon you would understand. That's why I need to see you face to face with you, soon. I think I have to pen-off hear because I still haven't finished studying electrolysis and polymerization. Catch you pa- later. Sleep tight and don't let those bed bugs ever bite you coz you are too sweet a thing for them.<br /> <br />Yourz Ever,<br />Sugar tapi tapi<br /><em><span style="font-size:0;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#993300;"></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">ps; damn the picture downloading system!!! maybe next time sugars, i will send u my image</span>.</span></em>SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-10641434372320207972009-07-26T19:17:00.002+03:002009-07-26T19:34:40.644+03:00i met a guy...I met a guy. A blogger. For the first time. He possesses the best set of hands and fingers I have seen on a man.<br /><br />The second time, which was the next day, Packed somewhere along a road, from about 1am to somewhere about 4am, He let me sock his shoulder pads in tears, About issues that didn’t concern him, That I wasn’t even willing to discuss with him. All I wanted was a non-judgmental shoulder to cry on and he offered it. he let me touch his hands.<br /><br />Just how thwit is this guySilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-48103326969703091082009-07-01T16:34:00.004+03:002009-07-01T17:27:49.996+03:00life's a suckerPosting this single line here, to connect with all of blogsville, is all i can do right now to stop the tears lingering just beneath my eyelids from rolling down my cheeks.<br /><br />But Life can suck!<br /><br />i need some love<br />or i'l buy a rope<br />i swear. i'm not threatening. walayi. tinkubiha. muga katonda mugulu.....i swear.<br /><br />LOVE U ALLSilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-41508713126115850802009-06-19T12:52:00.002+03:002009-06-19T13:10:55.809+03:00Happy Father's Day MumI still wanted to get married and bring my children up with their dad. i still belived there were good men out there that did well by women. i had survived the ''i hate men' complex (oh i love men!!!) i'd noticed all my other girlfriends from single-mother homes had. And i didnt think of all men as pigs, just bse my father had chosen to be adulterous and condemn us to a life in a broken home. No. I was clearly a normal girl child. Almost as good as all the others even though I had never had the opportunity to call ‘daddy’<br /><br />But on my graduation day it all came flooding out, For the first time I let myself think back on how we had gotten to that place with my mother; I stood up there, before everything she had so painstakingly prepared to share our achievement thus far and the image of her walking to and from town everyday until her shoe soles gave way glared at me;<br /><br />I recalled when we were much younger and it confused me that when we said ‘mum I’m hungry’ she sometimes just angrily told u to go to sleep. Now I realize how hard it must have been for her to not be able to feed us;<br /><br />How I had wished she would be like other mothers with the emotional liberty to hug us, cry when we fell instead of shout at us and just let up a little; I didn’t understand then that she didn’t have the liberty to be a normal mother since in essence she had not been allowed to be that; She had to be just mother enough leaving room for the fatherhood role too that my father couldn’t be b’se he was busy elsewhere. With another woman. And another family.<br /><br />I had never been a child like many others b’se I’d had to have my brother’s back when mum was working away night and day to give us the good life she had dreamt she and my father would give us. always choosing the cheapest of everything for herself just to provide for us what we would have had if he too had been there. Making sure we lacked nothing so we couldnt miss him. even though she didnt know that in school our worst topic was any conversation about fathers.<br /><br />It all flashed through my mind at that podium and I couldn’t help but cry torrents. Like I do every Father’s Day when i get sucked into everyone’s 'thank you, i love u dad' frenzy.I have long given up the bitterness and have by now outgrown the confusion. Instead, I shade tears of gratitude for the wonderful father my mother has been to us.<br /><br />And this Father’s Day I will go out and for the first time buy and address a Father’s Day card<br />To the only father that I have known all my life.<br />My mother.<br />And to all mothers that have been fathers too<br />Happy Father’s Day<br />Come Sunday.SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-33851117367692214832009-05-11T09:53:00.004+03:002009-05-11T11:07:29.500+03:00he definately beats me<span style="font-size:78%;"><strong><em>…I’m cursing my employers in all the languages I know and calling friends and relatives to aid me with more curses in more languages…and then I find something that makes me laugh out loud…<br />I open a folder on my PC with some of my work and in it I see a document saved as ‘suckers’. Suckers? Suckers? Cant remember when I might have had to write about suckers so I open it and … it’s a list of many assignements I had some time that were killing me! I instantly forgive myself for the coarse language and get on with renewing this list….makes me feel better. That I call the shitload a bad name.</em></strong><br /><br /></span>I always thought I was ba(r)d. The ba(r)dest in fact. I mean;<br />-I first got kissed when I was too young to make out why my older cousin liked to smoother my mouth and lick my face so vigorously while crushing my teeth trying to force his tongue through...eh, it was gross. He didn’t have to tell me it was our big secret though. i knew. i just knew.<br /><br />-then my first love letter came in in my Primary Five (also around the time I had my first boyfriend-a secondary school student) from a senior one chap in which one of the lines read “…I’m therefore writing to say that I want to have sex with you.” Yah, I admit I wasn’t that sharp about that one either as I howled so hard our housegirl had a field day marveling at the ignorance of town girls. With this experience came the beginning of what would be the only sex education i was to ever recieve; a tirade of tales about sex behind and inside pigsties, cow shades, forests,…name it. From the same housegirl.<br /><br />-then the first time I got kissed and I knew what was happening I was still so stupid I rubbed my lips so hard whenever someone at home looked my way that one of the older male relatives in the house finally, with an impish grin, whispered to me ‘see SB if you keep on rubbing your lips like that everyone will know u got kissed today.’ OMG, who had told him? How had he known…u can imagine what else went thru my head as I decided I didn’t want supper, heading straight to my room just in case the lioness herself, my mum, also looked at me and knew.<br /><br />Okay my point is I always thought I had been there done it (yah right, huh!) way before most. But recently I met a guy whose fact file was as follows;<br /><br />-At four- got his first blow job from a 13 year old. Girl. A few days after that dude was going down on chics too<br />-At 9- He was worrying he might have contracted The STD. you know those times you have thought this is it, i surely have the virus? well, dude first went through that at 9, after learning about it from a sick family friend and realizing it was an STD. who worries about STDs at 9 years of age?<br />-At 10- whe his teacher said 'pregnancy comes from having sex with a girl,' dude knew he was done for; hell he had done it more than he cared to count by then!<br />Beat that. Anyone.SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-37067592986842998892009-04-29T09:42:00.005+03:002009-04-29T12:17:17.702+03:00LOL...copied and pasted<em><strong><span style="font-size:78%;color:#330000;">...there's something about today that i dont quite get...i feel happy, at peace, elated...u know. i feel so good, (about what i have no clue), its scary.cant wait to see how it goes....For now, i hope i can draw from this feeling today on the days when the cloud over my head grows thick...i'm thankful, to whatever; i'm not that easy to please....</span></strong></em><br /><em><strong><span style="color:#330000;"></span></strong></em><br /><em><strong><span style="color:#330000;">interesting facts expressed in interesting ways</span></strong></em><br /><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">Condom says to Pad "When you work, I lose seven days of business."<br />Pad replies, "If you fail to work once, my business stops for Nine<br />months!"<br /></span><span style="color:#6600cc;">**************************************<br /></span><span style="color:#cc33cc;">A camel and an elephant met, and the elephant asked: "Why do you have<br />your boobs on your back?"<br />The camel responded: "What a silly question from someone who has a dick<br />on his face!"<br /></span>*************************************<br /><span style="color:#660000;">A black guy and a white girl met at a niteclub. She took him to her<br />apartment and said: "Tie me to the bed and do what black men do<br />best!"...<br />So he ran off with the TV and DVD Player...<br /></span>*********************************<br /><span style="color:#009900;">Wife: "I wish I was a newspaper, so that you could hold me every<br />morning!"<br />Husband: " Me too, my dear, so that I can have a NEW ONE every<br />morning!"<br /></span>**********************************<br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">A Chinese couple got married. When the baby was born, her eyes were big<br />and blue, hair was curly and blonde, skin was brown. Finally, name of<br />baby was SUM TING LONG ("some thing wrong")<br /></span>*******************************<br /><span style="color:#339999;">A lady visited her doctor one morning. Doc said: "You look so weak and<br />Exhausted!<br />Are you eating your meals 3 times a day as I advised?<br />Lady: "Doc, I thought you said 3 males a day!"<br /></span>**********************************<br /><span style="color:#999999;">Phone rings and maid picks up the phone as her master is bathing.....<br />When the caller asked "what ' s he doing?" the maid Replied:<br />MASTURBATING."(Master bathing) </span><br /><span style="color:#999999;"><strong><span style="color:#000000;">***********************************<br /></span></strong><span style="color:#66ff99;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color:#009900;">A psychiatrist was conducting a group therapy session with four young mothers and their small children!‘You all have obsessions,’ he observed.<br />To the first mother, he said, "You are obsessed with eating. You've even named your daughter Candy."He turned to the second mom. "Your obsession is money. Again, it manifests itself in your child's name, Penny."He turned to the third mom. "Your obsession is alcohol. Like the others, your obsession manifests itself in your child's name, Brandy."At this point, the fourth mother got up, took her little boy by the hand and whispered, "Come on, Dick, let's go."</span></span></span></span><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#999999;"><span style="color:#66ff99;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><em>....and it ends fellas.....</em></span></span></span></span></span></p>SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-71719666319346093242009-04-21T18:29:00.003+03:002009-04-21T19:29:45.132+03:00Attempting to decipher moiWho the hell asks a woman to lay herself bare. and on the internet, huh? Ug.Gal? I thought this whole ‘tag’ thing would pass and I would survive but seems like people are really serious. I was tagged by <a href="http://jny23ug.blogspot.com/">Jny</a> and <a href="http://ugandangirl2.blogspot.com/">Ug.Gal</a>, and yah...i have bounced on my heels ever since i got the AWARDS (surely thats enough bragging...).<br />Ten things (oooooooops, sorry, TRUTHS…not gonna be easy) of who I think I am that you people don’t know I am, i must confess, so here goes;<br /><br />1. I’m not as smart as most people try to make me out to be; they mistake my loud mouth for brains.<br /><br />2. I revel in being nude yet 90% of those who'v known me intimately will swear by my shyness…(poor chaps)<br /><br />3. Half the time I’m in the boss’ office I spend nurturing my sexual fantasies towards him…. the other half brooding and hating him and me for not being available to each other<br /><br />4. I hate what I do for a living. But cover up pretty well<br /><br />5. I know what its like to have sex with a fellow girl; under duress<br /><br />6. The greatest paradox of my childhood was the expression “so and so ate so and so’s money”. how couldnt an adult have known that you dont eat money? i mean, it is dirty!<br /><br />7. I’m a more serious person than i let off and a total believer in the existence and power of God and prayer.<br /><br />8. I dont think i have gotten the hang of what i look like; i still ask after a picture of myself especially if I don’t remember the cloths I’m wearing in it<br /><br />9. I can’t stand the whole anonymity thing at blogsville; there’s people I would really like to meet. Even though I prefer that I remain anonymous.<br /><br />10. I’m keeping a very big secret from the brethren at blogsville…mainly from fear of getting lynched by my own.<br /><br /><strong>And to take over from me will be the following;</strong><br />emi's, eddslove, s.king, k, exploring sensuality, sato, safyre<br /><br /><strong>Then the instructions for the 'chosen ones'</strong> ;<br />1.You must brag about the award<br />2.You must include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on you and link back to the blogger<br />3.You must choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. 4.Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog.<br />5.List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself.<br />Then pass it on with the instructions!SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-41532951068373939622009-04-15T13:23:00.003+03:002009-04-16T11:19:00.337+03:00I’m right now toppling over with laughter<br />And I think I want to share. My sense of humour is pretty cheap though so feel free not to laugh along<br /><br />There is this <em>muvabulaya</em> friend of mine who never ceases to amuse with his outside countries’ tales. The latest is one on his sister in law who was recently deported back to Uganda after leaving away from home for over 30 years. Residing in London illegally. She was gotten off the streets in London and deported with nothing to her name except the shorter than short skirt and knee length boots she was wearing matched with a top no woman over 40 years of age ‘should be’ seen wearing on African soil (except for the Swazi women), complete with wild-colored hair extensions. And that’s how she was delivered to her <em>gomesi</em> and <em>kanzu</em> wearing parents at the airport amidst exclamations of ‘God Have mercy. <em>Gunno Omusege si mwana wange’.<br /></em><br />Not like she was bothered as she went around screaming ‘hey mama. Papa wats up!’. She’s been around for about two weeks now and she’s already been declared a gone case by her parents who she has on several occasions warned she would ‘sue for abusing her as a child’ in case they think she forgot every time they tell her to get a grip of herself and behave her age.<br /><br />But anyway, that’s not what’s gotten me upside down in laughter, it is another on one of his escapades with the police where he was close to being shipped home too;<br />“One day we were in club, a Ugandan club called Kabira in West Ham. Me right behind my then girlfriend and now wife rubbing away and swaying along with fellow ugandans, about 8 of every 10 illegal immigrants. Then suddenly someone screams… “They are coming”. We didn’t have to ask who. We all knew who. The police who would be checking for illegal immigrants, and by the time they are spotted we all know that they have been around a while and have the building surrounded and all exits guarded.<br /><br />Panic. As we all pull out our forged documents, make desperate calls and dodge the cue for as long as we can. Again I survived, using my brother's forged documents and so did my girlfriend After the less crafty have been rounded off and the more sly throwing a thankful prayer to the powers that be, one of the policemen goes up to the podium and gets a hold of the microphone;<br />“We’r really sorry for disrupting your fun but its alright now, you can all go on enjoying the night. DJ?” he says turning to where the DJ’s box is located.<br />But the DJ was nowhere to be seen, he seemed to have just disappeared in thin air and could have been lying in some ditch somewhere quivering from the music made by his thumping heart by then. The officer turned to us completely puzzled and for the rest of us who knew what had gone down, we just burst out laughing.”<br /><br />No my friend wasn’t deported; he got tired of running and came back home on his own accord. he says he doesnt remember seeing that same DJ at that club again.SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-68227706971381144372009-03-19T18:18:00.003+03:002009-03-19T18:56:40.818+03:00Mr. Doctor ManSo one day I meet this really cute guy<br />Young hot and he was introduced as a doctor<br />Doctor Emma to be more exact<br /><br />We were soon galloping off all over the place. Together<br />It was cool. I was on top of the world<br />Who wouldn’t; he was hot young and a DOCTOR (I think that’s wat excited me most about the whole thing)<br /><br />But then every time I asked him for some ‘doctorly’ information<br />He refused to answer referring me to someone else<br />Apparently ethics and crap like that<br />Didn’t care much to question deeper into that<br /><br />Then this one time we were to hook up and he couldn’t make it<br />So I go to surprise him at work<br />And there I was asking for a Dr. Emma that no one seemed to know<br />then I remember this picture of us i carry around<br />And when I pull it out everyone seems to recognize him<br />I’m referred to the nurses’ section<br />“Oh well, he is just hanging there. Probably looking for some nurse,’ I thought<br /><br />Dr Emma wasn’t in the nurses’ section actually<br />But they did know the guy in the picture and he was actually a nurse not a doctor<br /><br />What? My Dr. Emma was actually a nurse? No way, they were all lying They were jealous or something. But who was I kidding; Of course he was a nurse or he wouldn’t have been so illusive.<br /><br />I thought I would try dating the nurse and not the doctor<br />I mean what kind of person/ girl did it make me if I chucked someone b’se of their job? And they were not even cobblers or barbers.<br />But whenever I sat across from him all I could see was that little nurses’ hat perched up on his head! I doubt he was even one of those nurses that are allowed to inject; I’l bet he only passes on medicine!<br />I erased his number and when I pick a call and it is him I hang up.<br /><br />Can you blame me?<br /><br />p.s: totally not my story thank you very much. Just re-telling a friend’s story.<br /><br />oh, and i miss u all. my life is kind of a whirlwind now but it will be worthwhile. u'l see. i do passby tho. love you all. mwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (share. equally)SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-40968718630391757352009-02-18T15:32:00.002+03:002009-02-18T17:16:26.573+03:00<a href="http://neatsilverbow.blogspot.com/2009/01/view-finder.html">view finder</a>SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-38909531297315197542009-02-17T14:57:00.000+03:002009-02-17T15:02:40.932+03:00for you yayxIf you have longed to apologize to me. There wouldn’t be a more promising time to be assured of a pardon. If you have always wished to earn my favor. Your opportunity is now.<br /><br />I am in love. With the whole world. I like everyone and everything. You wouldn’t piss me off if you tried. I want to kiss everyone (‘s cheek). And tell them I love them. I’m happy and inspired. And lonely at the same time. Because yayx can't be here all the time.<br /><br />Anyone ever made you feel that way?SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-75210688250903394322009-02-06T16:39:00.004+03:002009-02-09T16:47:51.670+03:00Life’s 'stinkiest' dung right at you<span style="color:#006600;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><em>you get to a certain age when you justifiably wonder “what could life possibly throw at me now?”</em></span><span style="font-size:78%;">Then BOOM! life shows you what </span></span><br /><br />I always watched the old man at one of the desks at work suspiciously; why is he so far away from home? Why is he still employed under a child that could pass for his great grand child? Why does he keep on insinuating he was great at this career? then what happened? why is he a mere employee now?<br /><br />Today I found out<br />Mzee was actually great; he started out young. Worked his way fast through the ranks. Made ground-breaking successes. Pushing this business to the top in several aspects. Then he got to that point. There was nothing more to achieve. He had done it.<br /><br />He retired early. To a farm he had carefully and painstakingly saved to set up over the years. In the Rift Valley. In Kenya.Home. everythign turned out well.Just as he had intended it to. But that was in the now far off past.When it didn’t cross his mind that his tribe would one day be his undoing.<br /><br />Then last year. over a billion years later. Life let off its 'stinkiest' dung and shoved it right up Mzee's nostrils before smearing it all over his land marks.<br />The Kenya elections happened. And a civil war right after them. the chaos was concetrated in the Rift Valley.The same Rift Valley where Mzee had retired.In a flash. Everything was gone. everything Mzee had worked for for years was gone in just a few strokes of violence.<br /><br />Back where he served deligently and successfully all those years ago He found a whole new generation that didn't even know him. There was no vacancy. he was told. Unless he was willing to work in another country. Where there were places he could be fixed.<br /><br />That's how Mzee lands at the desk at which I watch him everyday. Suspiciously. Concealing his stench quite well. With a smile. And contented façade.“Whatever you go through, just be strong. Have hope. If you still have your two arms that can work There is still hope,” he repeatedly tells us the younger generation, sometimes without necessarily revealing how he learnt this.<br /><br />I am very sad. There is an ache in the deepest of my heart. Life couldn’t just let him be?SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-21257094513597444662009-01-29T13:15:00.027+03:002009-02-18T15:39:33.612+03:00view finderRecently, a civilised man, one of the brainest men i know at my workplace,followed me to the loos and tried to kiss me by force (i dont know what else he intended to do -dont ask me). i dont know what to say or feel about the whole thing, except....from the office loos? couldnt the moron at least have followed me to a more pleasant place!?didnt he figure a more suitable ambiance would at least have helped his cause better? Damn losser.no wonder he failed.<br /><br />so anyway, in an effort to get my mind off of the disappointing cheap jerk/rapist wannabe, i checked out what the cameramen at Uganda's leading vernacular newspaper (the one with the briefest catchiest headlines in the whole world,(yes, Bukedde)), see at the gatherings where the rest of us are focused on the speeches, performances or whatever else it is the organisers intend for us to focus on;<br /><br /><br /><strong>at political events</strong><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJfIRwT4d8nRjlOTvk6LMGQuqkHsi2gNUIjofmBeVkWHecr7Ky3bjxnpOFt9wjSYv4gFZD4whcJBWvh2t4P6xdSUzzI3ZlwigcutJbVMc2-7J_XiChkHhQ0f2f1eljHHKyWq14XzaW2uc/s1600-h/so+of+all+the+activity+that+was+happening+at+Kololo+on+NRM+Liberation+day+in+uganda,+this+is+what+this+photographer+saw.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303799591138839330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 186px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJfIRwT4d8nRjlOTvk6LMGQuqkHsi2gNUIjofmBeVkWHecr7Ky3bjxnpOFt9wjSYv4gFZD4whcJBWvh2t4P6xdSUzzI3ZlwigcutJbVMc2-7J_XiChkHhQ0f2f1eljHHKyWq14XzaW2uc/s400/so+of+all+the+activity+that+was+happening+at+Kololo+on+NRM+Liberation+day+in+uganda,+this+is+what+this+photographer+saw.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />So of all the activity that was happening at Kololo on Uganda's NRM Liberation day , this is what this photographer saw....okay anyway, it is one of the published great pictures of the day.<br />anyway, at what point do you think she begun to feel the wind blow directly to her insides? poor woman.<br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;">caption: a woman guard who matched her trousers to nothingness at the thighs. </span></em><br /><em></em><br /><br /><strong>at the social events</strong><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong><em>where by the way the organisers put alot of effort into what is to be presented on the stages</em></strong> </span><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88DzIer7mozIAdR04FPCJ-elghKVVEE7dP5cx8cTrML5UmeYRCC-9hKpVn8eMNB96H-MfqQEZh6MSAc-KPWVcK_rSOzJ3BT1KeZfJ4l-HKE2r1Jc6H3RAPokHuIZeKGVidZHxNwbxwq8/s1600-h/do+u+imagine+this+girl+was+standing+on+the+photographer"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303744016487157010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 261px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88DzIer7mozIAdR04FPCJ-elghKVVEE7dP5cx8cTrML5UmeYRCC-9hKpVn8eMNB96H-MfqQEZh6MSAc-KPWVcK_rSOzJ3BT1KeZfJ4l-HKE2r1Jc6H3RAPokHuIZeKGVidZHxNwbxwq8/s400/do+u+imagine+this+girl+was+standing+on+the+photographer%27s+shoulders.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div>is it that this girl was maybe standing on the photographer's shoulders.....or was it the photographer crouching in below her skirt to get a 'good' shot?/"?</div><em><span style="font-size:78%;">caption: a girl who 'splashed' at the kivulu,(<a href="http://jny23ug.blogger.com/">jny</a>, wats kivulu in english???)</span></em><br /><br /><div><strong>at social event II </strong></div><div><strong></strong><br /></div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsktU9yXb4rcQfz7R64a54kF4U9OpWYhdygolBta15ADWYqi9Oi1gxLIYP8pyPMOE38Hzb7lx4nHDZmmwR-57mrdigIFN8jOcy5-XRCsqaen3c-z8dVs_8dJpBrGYrJClEUV4pXbfsdbk/s1600-h/wats+this+man+doing+to+the+poor+woman.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296661391224230194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsktU9yXb4rcQfz7R64a54kF4U9OpWYhdygolBta15ADWYqi9Oi1gxLIYP8pyPMOE38Hzb7lx4nHDZmmwR-57mrdigIFN8jOcy5-XRCsqaen3c-z8dVs_8dJpBrGYrJClEUV4pXbfsdbk/s400/wats+this+man+doing+to+the+poor+woman.jpg" border="0" /></a><em> </em>eh, what's this man doing to the poor woman.... do you figure it is some tribal ritual maybe?</div><span style="font-size:78%;"><em>caption : these were at the King's palace for Nkuuka(is there an english word for nkuuka , </em></span><a href="http://rentedmess.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-size:78%;"><em>Yereki</em></span></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><em> do you know???)<br /></em></span></div></div>SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-62474773872526495302009-01-26T18:25:00.003+03:002009-01-26T19:34:28.775+03:00blind dates long stashed away<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Longo</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">longo</span> ago (less than 10 years ago anyway), I went on a blind date.he carried a single red rose. I carried me and a heart thumping so hard I marvel that it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">didn't</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">embarrass</span> me by popping out of its chambers all bloody....<br /><br />We hit it off (we were less than 22 so I don’t know what else we could have done). We were on fire (...pray dont ask for details.). And then we just died out.one day we were.the next we were not.it was there.and then it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">wasn't</span>. and we <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">didn</span>’t even notice.i doubt we did anyway.it was the cleanest break ever).<br /><br />Then recently, at a gathering of some sorts, who do I see.the rose-baring mate.we fumbled about but refused to avoid each other.it was evident to everyone around we were fidgeting and i figure they all wondered what was going on.<br />after venturing into a number of topics that failed to yield any meaningful conversation, what the hell, we got round to tackling 'the real issue'.<br />we didnt bother going into details of what happened or what didnt. we just agreed it was a short nice thing we had. and we had left it at that. but then, we were sent on an errand,someone at the gathering made the mistake of sending us out together.<br /><br />we <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">did no</span>t return.we have never returned from the errand.SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-1755455480505812702009-01-20T11:14:00.002+03:002009-01-20T12:19:34.502+03:00On the longest roughest bus ride of my life so far<br />The nymph in the seat in front of mine decided to incline his chair backwards until the top of his backrest was just about a whisker away from my forehead; Meaning he was literally crunching down on my legs especially whenever we hit the rough spots. He also adamantly refused to adjust it saying he would do it later! Can u believe it? The nerve of that underdeveloped cockroach!<br /><br />But I would show him who had thicker nerve<br />So, I waited for those stops where everyone jumps off to stretch their legs, pee or whatever, and when no one was looking, emptied my two bottles of mineral water into his seat.<br />As he sunk into the soaked sponge in the wee hours of the already vulgarly cold night and wailed out like he’d just landed his bare arse in the queen ant’s nest, I lay my head back in my seat, a satisfied impish grin spreading over my face…and refused to think beyond that point in my master revenge ploy<br /><br />Yah, that’s the plan of revenge still making rounds in my head if ever I share seats with that m.f. again. Planned it all the way but kept it in my head. In other words the bastard got away with it, <br />And could have succeeded at making it the most miserable journey of my life,<br />but there was the reassuring shoulder to my left, the strong arms that held me in place when the road got really rough or the night unbearably cold; And sometimes kneaded a thigh stroked a breast(checking for lumps mbu(apparently))... <br /><br />and many more that made that journey memorable and the idiot in front of me a minor speck in a beautifully wonderful world.<br /><br />In other news;<br />My brother graduated yesterday and now our relatives from the village use every available opportunity to refer to him as engineer!!SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-696373882200095822009-01-14T11:30:00.008+03:002009-01-14T13:01:12.460+03:00Mumblings. Reflections. Memories. Wonderings…<span style="color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#666666;"><strong>as a child…</strong><br /></span><span style="color:#990000;">I hated shoes and school bags.<br />i played <em>kwepena</em> (dodge ball) better barefooted, although it meant I had to dodge the heaps of pooh littered in the urinals we shared with the boys at school with my bare feet as well. that was a small price to pay tho, so my shoes were always left hidden in a trench outside the fence and my mum loved me more; i was the only one of her children whose shoes still looked new after a whole term.<br />The school bags ate into my play time; either washing them after school or trying to find a clean spot to place them before setting off so I didn’t have to wash them after school. Besides, with a polythene bag you got so much more; say a different design and color each day.<br /></span><span style="color:#990000;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">if i met God, i would ask...</span><br /></strong></span><span style="color:#990000;">¨</span><span style="color:#990000;"> Why do YOU chose to complicate life so with this love thing? Wouldn’t the world be more harmonious if all relationships were platonic? No heart breaks, no rejections, no wedding costs….you know, do it like the chicken, you want to reproduce, you give it to whichever female is available and move on. Yah, so being in love feels good, and Mrs. B2B would probably miss the kiss in the park (public place), but we wouldn’t miss those things if we didn’t know them…<br />¨ How do YOU sit up there and just watch your beloveds die from hunger famine kony earthquakes floods…when all it would take YOU to clear the whole mess up is less than a wave of the hand?<br />¨ Wouldn't it be less work for YOU, (OK, us too) if YOU just granted us our hearts' desires without making us plead first?<br />¨ Why did YOU create Judas just so he could betray Jesus and rot in hell for it? After all, it was hardly his fault that He betrayed Jesus.<br /></span><span style="color:#990000;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Losing the game...</span></strong><br /></span><span style="color:#990000;">I was disappointing my mum way too much; always being caught with my head peeping out of the tallest trees, or my lanky frame the only feminine among the males running atop buildings playing guns and robbers; being suspended from school for pulling at some boys’ balls (or girl's lips. WITH HANDS) say for trying to bully me out of my position at assembly…<br />Mum always knew how to have me shading tears and feeling worthless about myself by letting me know how she expected better from her first born daughter…then I discovered there was a question she didn’t have an answer to that always made her get off my case; “I never asked you to produce me, did I?”<br />It worked for while, but then one time, without hesitating (as if she had been waiting for the next time i used that line on her) she screamed right back in answer, “and I never said you be the one that comes out when I decided to push, so don’t give me that.”<br />what would you say to that? i have never had a response to it myself, so i surrendered my game; stopped all the nonsense and grew into a responsible, non-violent woman.<br /></span><span style="color:#666666;"><strong>in a matatu, everything has a humorous twist to it...</strong></span><span style="color:#666666;"><br /></span><span style="color:#990000;"><span style="color:#990000;">Do u disagree?<br />Who could have suspected there actually is a humorous answer to a simple morning greeting, huh?<br />Once in a taxi, I was marveling at how dark the driver was and just when i had concluded he must be the darkest man ever created, he stuck his head out to greet a fellow taxi driver on the way. The response sent me spiralling backwards in hysterical laughter; “<em>twala eli. Weyelusa no kweyelusa</em>,” shouted the colleague, accusing our driver, the darkest man i have ever seen, of bleaching!<br />Evidently, the bleach wasn't working!<br /></span><strong><span style="color:#666666;">to be young and foolish...</span></strong></span><span style="color:#666666;"><br /></span><span style="color:#990000;">The following conversation ensues between my 4 year old cousin, right after she watches a documentary on children in war-torn countries in Africa, and her dad, who was always in praise of his daughter’s intellect since she was about 2 hours old;<br />Cousin: “Daddy, I never want to go to Africa. Please promise me you will never want to make me.”<br />The dad puzzled; “Why?”<br />Cousin: “Because in Africa the children don’t have food and they are sick and have mucus running down their noses all the time!”<br />See, this conversation was taking place from their home in Mengo, a suburb in Kampala, the capital city of Uganda in East Africa. that home today has more maps of Africa and the world, than i have ever seen in any other home.</span>SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-35662532394986327712009-01-09T17:15:00.003+03:002009-01-09T18:03:40.777+03:00at the stroke of midnight.......tonight<br />i shall begin another 365 days in the traipse that is my life<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hassssssshhhhhhhhhh</span><br />shut your mouths already<br />suppress your <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ululations</span><br /><br />I forbid any celebrations;<br />I'm now sailing on the 'other' side<br />of 'the number'<br /><br />I'v hardly set foot down on this territory<br />and it already feels scary out here!<br /><br />Pray brethren Pray<br /><br />(crouching in a corner all by myself)SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-10199952137712491222008-12-29T13:02:00.002+03:002008-12-29T14:05:00.063+03:00last diary entries for this year-My 18 year old brother threw out his girl friend.<br />I instantly knew with my sister that she (the girlfriend) must have done something terrible for him to throw her out bse he is the nicest thing we know in the family and beyond. It got us curious and probing, until we discovered what she had done; she had asked for 'some'.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#006600;">Note to self;</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#006600;">Something must be seriously wrong with my brother so keep an eye on him the next year to be sure all his faculties, especially the sexual ones, are in proper functioning order.</span></strong><br /><br />-I think my 13 year old brother is having sex; he's got a girlfriend and my sister says she discovered a stash of porn. mags under his mattress. I can't quite recouncil the the young boy who cried and cringed to his mommy when we dropped him off to begin his senior one about a year ago with the one that has a girlfriend, porn mags and a much deeper (uneven is more like it) voice...<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#006600;">Next year, work on seeing your youngest brother in a more manly and not boyish light, therefore, act more warmly towards his girlfriends, stop grouping him up with the children when there are visitors and maybe stop sneaking up on him to check the age limit for the television programms he watches. </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#006600;">Gonna be one hell a challenge, but hey, he sneaked porn mags past all of us so...</span></strong>SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-78456166098937491722008-12-17T13:40:00.004+03:002008-12-17T16:49:42.204+03:00"i'm in a hole today.......and one (the hole) too small to accommodate me<br />yet i want to curl myself up, until i can all disappear into it"<br />That's the best way i can explain how i'm feeling like today, although on the outside i seem completely normal; just a bit subdued.<br /><br />When i mentioned it to my neighbour at work just now, he looked at me like i had taken my clothes off right there in the newsroom with everyone present, then asked,<br />"have you taken your medication today".<br />stupid neighbour. At least he made me smile.<br /><br />So anyway, since the xmas spirit continues to elude me<br />i have skipped to next year, and I'm right now at that point where you lay down what you want to achieve next year. i don't do that, i never do it; i figure it would only be fair if the year laid before me what it has in store so i could plan along that. but since it doesn't, i dont want to spend it fighting to fit my resolutions into all the unplanned for events. plus, when other people are weeping about the failures in their review reports for the year gone by, i'm comfortable in the jubilation of whatever little i have achieved that i didnt even plan to achieve.<br /><br />This time round however, there's only one resolution all of you should hold me to;right here, on this blog i shall post a picture of a metal; expensive, shiny, round and all, exactly the size of my left hand middle finger, by the end of 2009. OK, maybe somewhere about mid 2010.<br /><br />I will need to find that person that can afford it though, and since my choice is only limited to the human male specie, i have a lot of work, and probably fighting, to do; apparently there's more women than men in the world (i see a survival for the fittest situation here; so first step, enrole into a gym).<br /><br />I'm off looking y'all, greet xmas for me, tell him/her sorry i missed him/her but couldn't wait any longer. i'v a resolution to work towards.<br />PS: oh by the way girls, i saw him today, he looked hotter than ever, he said hi, lingered about even. i succeeded at not telling him he looked hot and asking him whether he didnt miss me. By a whisker. But I succeeded. THAT COUNTS FOR SOMETHING, RIGHT?SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-87662131291983965102008-12-12T10:49:00.005+03:002008-12-12T11:43:26.403+03:00i miss xmasRight now, my head feels like there is a mountain exploding in the sides but my skull is too thick to let it splatter through so the pressure is all in there<br />My nose feels harassed My eyes are ablaze Gleaming thru an ashen face and its taking me longer than it should to finish writing this bse i have to reach for my hanky every so often to ease the nose of an unsustainable load<br />if i were i scientist, i would want to see what features the flu virus has; they must stick out like daggers. must be a furious bugger this virus; tirelessly aiming blow after blow on its victims....<br /><br />anyway, someone just asked me what i have planned for xmas and i realised i didn't have the slightest clue what. i realised i plan more for my brothers birthday 7 days before xmas than i do for xmas.<br /><br />but it wasnt always that way<br />when i was younger, xmas was real; there was the tree which was what i understood as xmas for sometime, the new cloths, knowing mum would be in the kitchen; the guaranteed rice and chicken meal (the xmas one always tested different, good), biscuits, sweets and the festive feeling that came with the xmas visitors<br /><br />There was xmas then, you felt it in the air without having to plan or make an effort to<br />Now, when i don't buy myself a new dress no one does, i know the xmas tree for what it really is; a tree with shinny decorations, rice and chicken is not as exciting anymore, and the visitors are all old and bored; none brings u any gifts beyond cards.<br /><br />where is the grown ups' xmas? what is it? when does this transition btn childhood and adulthood which doesn't seem to have xmas come to pass?SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-74924481483023503252008-12-11T09:23:00.006+03:002008-12-11T12:06:57.219+03:00Recap<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#999900;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#990000;">This Ex is listed under the category 'I want back in' in my archives. This conversation takes place about three days after I meet his current girlfriend and I succeed at not making a fool of myself (from my point of view anyway);</span><br /></span><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#660000;">Me: so, does she know about me?<br />Ex: she does but she only put face to name that day</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#990000;">(After an awkward silence)</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#999900;"><span style="color:#660000;">Ex: does he know about me?<br />Me: yes he does. Did she talk about meeting me?<br />Ex: Yes. She thought you were pretty<br />Me: Imagine. How did you guys get to discussing my looks?<br />Ex: she saw you and went 'is that the ‘SilverBow’?', and am like yep. then she said 'I think she is hot'. And am like I know but you are hotter<br />Me: do you believe that? Or were you just being nice to your girlfriend and mean to your ex?<br />Ex: You are hot, but man, I don’t want to be caught giving you compliments in her face. I bet you know what I be talking about<br /></span><br /></span><span style="color:#990000;">what i really bet is that he didn't want to be complimenting her to my face either. or should i be revelling in this compliment? do you figure there is any hope here for me?</span></span>SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-58646198331778957442008-12-08T09:18:00.004+03:002008-12-08T09:46:56.556+03:00can't figure out a title for this oneRight here should be an exciting post<br />telling of my great weekend; action packed party on Friday,<br />shopping with one of my favorite people in the world on Saturday<br />and a cool day in on Sunday<br /><br />Only if i still had my wallet and all the money I so painstakingly saved<br />to buy myself 'something' i needed so badly,<br />converting it to foreign currency so I couldn't spend it<br /><br />I fail to make up my mind which hurts the most;<br />-that a person i took pity on and used their service so i could pay them rewarded me by taking off with my wallet<br />-or that he was actually able to take it from right under my nose without me noticing<br />-or that i was stupid enough to be walking around with that much money on me; not for a day, or a week, but a long enough time to even ponder what would happen if i lost my wallet.<br /><br />The only thing that consoles me now is the one thing i had been beating myself about before i lost everything;<br />that i had actually spent some of that money on completely unnecessary stuff. At least that means the burger is about shs.100,000 less.SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1462670727140876860.post-66513687637046419962008-12-05T09:24:00.005+03:002008-12-05T13:14:24.902+03:00To win or Bless a soul<span style="color:#990000;">At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, one father told the story below about Shay, his mentally and physically disabled son;</span><br /><br />"<span style="color:#660000;">Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?'<br />I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;">I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'<br />Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.<br />In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.<br />In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;"><br />Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?<br />Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.</span><br /><span style="color:#660000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;">The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.<br />The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay.<br />As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.<br />Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;"><br />Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first!<br />Run to first!'<br />Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'<br />Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.<br />By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball . the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.<br />He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'. Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third<br />base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;"><br />As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'<br />Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team<br />'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'."</span><br /><span style="color:#660000;"><br /></span><span style="color:#990000;">Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!</span><br /><span style="color:#660000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Now, one question; Would you have made the same choice?</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Disclaimer;</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">i wasn't at this fundraiser, and in fact, i didnt even hear it from someone from that dinner; someone forwarded it to my email and after reading it i didnt know what else to do other than share it with as many people as possible. </span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">bse like this father said prior to this anecdote, 'when a child like Shay, mentally and physically disabled, comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'</span>SilverBowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11316117347647087528noreply@blogger.com5