Dec 28, 2016

When Blind Leads Blind


It was 7pm, I rounded the street corner and saw two people with walking canes having a conversation. I slowed down when I realized they were both blind. I had lots of questions: How did they get around? Was it a case of the blind leading the blind?
I walked past and shortly after they walked in my direction. In the frenzy of traffic and people on the busy streets, they stopped. 
The lady waved and said “excuse me”. 
“We are trying to get to block 1725”
Thankfully it was a few steps away. I was going that way so I said sure.
She held my elbow and the guy held her elbow and we walked.

The independence and empowerment for people with different abilities here is incredible.  I was reminded of the little helpers I used to see on Kampala road. 
No matter where we are, we need each other.

Nov 23, 2016

Tea and cookies with Gary and Marilyn Skinner

Gary shares the Father's heart
“My pastor Gary” as one friend used to say, as though she owned him. We all owned him. All 7,000+ of us. When a man dedicates his life to full time ministry: to teach, preach and lead an entire congregation in bible study and worship every Tuesday, Thursday and at least 10 hours on Sunday – he’s invested. Invested in God and in people. Never mind the slight inconvenience of adjusting to a different language, culture and political system.

As young people in search of good fun, Kampala Pentecostal Church (K.P.C) was the perfect fit. We had access to in depth teaching of scripture, the best contemporary Christian music and good company. It is no wonder school holidays were spent at church. We lounged at the reception, hang out with the sound men but also attended New Life Class, Evangelism Explosion, Music, Dance and Drama ministry. The concept that Christianity could be enjoyed, had us glued. That we could use our talents to build the kingdom of God in Kampala was a wonderful revelation. Friendship bonds grew as we grew – the foundation of God’s saving grace took root as we trans versed the country on mission trips and through life’s up’s and downs. When we traveled away from home we fed on sermon notes and songs engraved in tattered journals. The further we traveled the more we were convinced there was no place like K.P.C. All because a young Canadian man obeyed The Call, left his country, loaded his tiny wife and three little kids on to a plane and brought them to live in the African jungle of Uganda. It has been over 30 years since Gary and Marilyn made Uganda their home.

Marilyn and Gary listen to stories of life in the diaspora

The Skinner's first grandchild is in his mid-teens, likewise the extended family also known as the church has grown exponentially - their children have had children who live and work in Uganda and around the world. The bonds that tie us together have three codes; the love of Christ, a shared background and the influence of the Skinner's as the parents of our faith.

What a delight therefore for old K.P.C ian’s in the D.C metro area to sit down to a cozy breakfast of baked beans, samosas , cookies and ka chai with their “god parents”. We mused over times past and testified of the impact their ministry has had on our lives. Gary shared the vision God has placed on his heart to see the church grow even more with worship centers in nearly every section of Kampala. 
We acknowledged how much the church had changed, how we “the pioneers” felt like strangers. Where once we were in charge – now we were being ushered to the overflow section or politely turned away at the door.
Gary said “The church is like a family with grandparents, parents, children and grandchildren and they all take on different roles.” There has to be room for transition. It doesn’t mean any one is less important but balance is critical. With a teenager of my own I understood the analogy. When I turn on my favorite music, my son zones out because “mummy, really?!” and when I stumble upon his music, I say a silent prayer.
Change and growth is inevitable but how it is handled makes all the difference. Sometimes the good old days are resigned to just that – good old days. It is necessary to be relevant to the majority of the congregation - the youth. The old and young need to support each other and make sacrifices. Even though the mature Christian needs to be fed, a times comes when we give back with selfless commitment - to guide and advise and not necessarily hold the reins.

Marilyn is a Ugandan citizen with the mannerisms to boot. She hugged without reservation and used local colloquialisms. Best of all, was the quick pats on my hand or shoulder as she gave updates on friends back home. When she was choir mistress, we spent many a Saturday morning/afternoon in rehearsals for Sunday service and December Cantata presentations. Her focus was on excellence and good stewardship of our talents. As a pastor's wife, she seldom spoke to the church congregation and yet today she is a world renowned speaker who travels for conference engagements. How did she transform from the timid lady to this advocate? I asked.

“Marilyn, I always knew you to be the reserved, quiet wife hinged to the keyboard. You barely said a word to the congregation.”
“Yes, I do well with one on one conversations.”
“Yeah! so tell me, what happened? When did the switch occur?”
She looked me in the eye, licked her lips and said;
“This is how it happened."

She took me on the journey - through the air to a visit to Hill Song church Australia, down the corridor to Gary’s office where he accepted a speaking invitation that was addressed to her but was accidentally sent to his email account. I was in stitches at the point when she was finally on the pulpit at the Hill song Women’s Color Conference. She’d suffered several sleepless nights and an empty stomach that couldn’t hold anything down. She’d rehearsed her speech for days. The moment arrived. She stood before the multitudes, looked at her notes and the pages went blank before her eyes. She unscrewed the microphone in a nervous plight to keep her hands occupied. The mental picture had me wiping tears with the sleeve of my dashiki. This lady is a fantastic story teller, so honest and vulnerable enough to laugh at herself. God orchestrates events in our lives in ways we least expect. With a nudge from a supportive husband who knew her potential, she soared. Women, widows and orphans are her mission field.

An inside joke
We each shared how the Skinner's spiritual leadership impacted our lives. Come to think of it, a quick scan through my friendships and a vast majority of these relationships were nurtured in Kampala Pentecostal church – now Watoto Church. I don’t need to look far as the man whose name I share started as an acquaintance in the Evangelism Explosion class. The study exploded into more than we had imagined - but those are God's ways.

So, the question is, what will your legacy be? Are you influencing your circles? Have you obeyed God’s call? This Canadian couple did and their lives continue to impact multitudes. From Kampala to Gulu, coast to coast and around the world. For the influence that Gary and Marilyn had in our formative years, we are grateful.

In keeping with the seasons theme of thanks giving, it's only appropriate to say thank you for giving to the Lord, we are lives that were saved. #Thankyou, #Eyalamanoi #Apoyomatek #Webaremunonga #Webalenyo …

Nov 22, 2016

Complications of Photography


Man walks out of  the Andrew. W. Mellon building

As an amateur behind the camera one skill I’m learning to practice is patience - to wait for the moment. On several occasions I have rushed to press the shutter in excitement, then just as I turn off the camera the most glorious moment occurs. It happens so fast I don’t have enough time to power up the box and snap. Soon it’s all over, the moment walks away gracefully like a pretty lady leaving her suitors wide eyed. I want to scream and pump my fist, throw a tantrum, but it’s too late.

This time I was alert, fascinated by the gold coating on these lamp posts, I thought the juxtaposition against the cream background made for a great scene. Then I thought, it would be perfect if someone walked by - that way I would have some activity in the picture. No one came. I waited. No one came. Undeterred, I decided to count so as to stay in the moment. 1, 2.. 21, at 37, a man walk by but he was too fast. As I waited for the next person with the hope that I would catch them in the cream space, I heard a deep male voice. 
“Excuse me mom! Excuse me! What are you doing?” I nearly jumped. My heart raced. The man was dressed in blue uniform, with a black bullet proof vest and those "gadgets" that make belts heavy. I didn’t even see him coming.
In a shaky soft voice I said “I’m taking pictures”.
“Well, I notice you have been standing there for a long time”, he turned and walked back to his vehicle. I wanted to explain to him this photo thing and how one needs to wait for the perfect shot but something told me he would not be interested. So I tucked my heart back in its cage, hushed it to settle while I walked away, trying not to quicken my footsteps.

This is the Andrew W. Mellon Auditorium. I couldn’t quite figure out why there would be heavy security in the area. But as it turns out it houses several government offices including the United States Environment Protection Agency (EPA) and right round the corner is Trump International Hotel.

So two things: Be aware of your surroundings and secondly, the rules of photography remain – be patient, wait for the moment to unfold not quite like they did in this case but you get the point.


Aug 24, 2016

Young Man In Pursuit of A Dream

His size matched his bass – large. They stood out. He played a calm tune. The white note at his side reads: “Please help send me to Interlochen Fine Arts High School”. In the heat of the afternoon a young man sweats in pursuit of a dream. Passion. Pursuit. Purpose. We live for this.

Jul 29, 2016

Butterfly on the Metro

I saw a man in a snow white shirt this afternoon. He had a big beautiful butterfly sitting on his shoulder. The color contrast was fantastic. For a second I thought it was a huge lapel pin until it flapped its wings. I gasped! Then I thought it was his “pet butterfly” because he didn’t seem to mind it. My excitement caused one other passenger to bring it to his attention. He threw it off while I frantically struggled to get out my camera for the perfect shot pleading with him to let it stay. My selfish human condition was exposed. He probably thought I was crazy.

We all kept our eyes on the butterfly until the train came to a stop. He picked it up. Two times he threw it up and two times it came right back down. It couldn’t fly.

A young girl, around 16 years old came over and held it.



Girl: Oh what a beautiful butterfly. It wants to commit suicide on the tracks.
Her Mum: Butterflies have a shot life span, we need to find a place to put it.
They decided to place it in a tree.


By coincidence the Washington post shared a photo of a similar butterfly on Instagram this evening and so I found out that it’s an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail butterfly (Papilio glaucus) native to Eastern North America.  Have a great weekend!

Jul 28, 2016

Music Makes Everything Alright - Farrugut North




This corner of Farrugut North is full of life: people commute back and forth, cars zoom by, beggars ask for help, newspaper vendors and fruit sellers all seek our attention.
But nothing gets people to stop like good music. Live bands, opera singers, violin players, boys trying to make raise funds for tuition - it's a variety really.
Yesterday a crowd gathered as these young men played Pharell's "Happy" and Michael Jackson's "Remember the Time". No one cared much for the suppressive heat, or places they had to go. They stood and listened, bobbed along and dropped a little something into the bucket.
The man without a shirt and the old lady caught my attention as they reveled in the music, their cares shelved for this moment.

Jul 20, 2016

A "passionate" story

I walked into a Giant Supermarket the other day and saw dark purple bulbs that looked like passion fruits. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I looked closer and indeed they were passion fruits.


We celebrated like we had found a gold mine. I scooped the core clean, leaving no seed to waste. The result was just right. We savored every last drop.



“Don’t drink it too fast. Take little sips, then think about something else. Then when you remember it’s there you’ll be very excited and it will be fresh again.” No prizes for guessing who said this. My little girl on the other hand could not believe we could make juice at home.

Spare a thought for us when you next drink this passion at leisure (for those of you, especially my friends in Uganda). 


Did you know its scientific name is “Passiflora edulis”? Well, just in case.



Jun 10, 2016

My First Photo Exhibition with International Photographic Society


Booklet with Photographer bio's.

I’m taking part in a photo exhibition with the International Photographic Society (IPS). It's my first exhibition and hopefully the first of many more. IPS comprises members from the IMF and World Bank and gulp! I’m a part of it.

I'm exhibiting 3 photos: 2 on the theme of Still life and 1 on people.

Saturday morning was spent setting up, measuring, pinning and aligning. One gentleman seemed to know what he was doing so I sought his help. He obliged. He picked up his measuring tools and came to my section. I asked if he had exhibited before he said no but he’s always hanging pictures in his house, so he knew what to do.

This gentleman was the IMF representative in Uganda a few years ago. He measured the top, the side, the bottom and I was delighted to say the least.

Photo 1- Party time: Was taken at my parents 50th wedding anniversary. It has some of my favorite people in the whole world.
Photo 2- Tinsel and lights: This was one of the first pictures I took with the tripod Mr. O got me for Christmas.  ðŸ’•ðŸ’•

Photo 3- Music and mood: I attended my first live India Arie concert, Mr.O stayed home to watch the kids. His sacrifice to make his wife happy means a lot.

Grand opening of photo exhibition

May 18, 2016

When Chess Draws Strangers


It gets lonely sometimes, friends are busy sorting their own lives and so one is unable to hangout or do things together as often as one would wish.
I found a guy who solved that problem.
He walked into the Starbucks cafe, found a table, pulled out his chess board and set the pieces in place. Obviously I got curious. He leaned back and listened to music streaming from his head phones.
A man who had just bought his cup of coffee donned the most curious smile, before I knew it they were engaged in a game of chess. He left.

The next moment a girl took the seat and was making her moves. They barely talked, they just played. Strangers drawn by a game of mutual interest.
I'm reminded of "Queen of Katwe" and how Phiona Mutesi's interest in Chess opened the door to her dreams of becoming a grand master some day. smile emoticon.
"The size of your dreams must always exceed your capacity to achieve them" Ellen Johnson Sirleaf.

Feb 3, 2016

Freda Omaswa - A Life Well Lived



I visited a funeral home for the first time to celebrate the life of a pretty girl called Freda. 
She was a doctor, a wife and a daughter but to me she was just Freda - a friend I got acquainted with in September of 2014.

I arrived early to a friend’s birthday lunch and she walked in shortly thereafter. We introduced ourselves and spent close to 45 minutes talking about life since relocating to America, about intermarriage among people of different ethnicities. We discovered we were both from Teso land. Sitting in that restaurant and waiting for the birthday girl we had a lot to talk about.

I was struck by her grace; her sweet smile and I loved the way she raised her eyebrows when she talked. There was an excitement in her spirit. She expressed her ideas with clarity and precision. Talking fondly about her husband and her parents back in Uganda.

She didn't mention she was undergoing chemotherapy. That some days were dark, that she had stage 4 colon cancer.
I didn't mention that I knew. That the birthday girl and I prayed for her often.

She was careful about her dash, you know? The little flat line that sits between the years of life: 1982 - 2016. She was careful without effort. I soon forgot that she was unwell and enjoyed good laughs with her and her humorous husband at yet another party.

I got news of her death on Monday and on Monday I found out she was a sister to a good friend. A daughter to a well-known Professor in Uganda. It seems to have slipped through the cracks. I wished I had known but I'm glad I didn't because she was large all by herself, she left a mark all by herself.
Tonight as Dr. Omaswa talked about her daughter I couldn't agree more. She was kind, selfless, graceful, elegant and confident. Large!

I met her at the end of her dash. She finished it straight.

Tonight I think of Paschal her husband of 2 years, Professor and Dr. Omaswa her parents, Mark her brother and Gloria her sister and my dear friend.

May Freda's life be celebrated always.
#WeloveFredabecause: Beauty shone from her soul and her bright smile. Her quiet spirit resounded with wisdom. Our friendship brief and sweet.

Freda's body will be laid to rest on the 10th of February 2016 in Ngora district.


Auction - Okisoni: Market Day in Serere


Teso on my Mind: The local market -  You've got to visit the Wednesday local market in Serere. We call it "okisoni" probably from the word auction ☺️. There is nothing like it. This was my favorite market growing up. You can get almost anything here:- cups, plates, basins, food, clothes, saucepans, shoes, cows, sugarcane, bicycles, bricks, solar systems, sugar, bread, cooking oil - see? The list is endless.

Feb 2, 2016

Groundnuts a Source of Livelihood in Teso



Teso on my mind: Peanuts, g-nuts, ground nuts - however you choose to call them. As a little girl whenever my name was called followed by "obia aipac emaido" (come and shell the nuts) I would want to hide. Depending on the amount, it meant sitting on the veranda and shelling nuts for close to an hour. My fingers ached but as I grew I learned the right pressure points to open the shell. My aunt grabbed handfuls at a time and I watched the nuts popped out in a hurry. It was an art. Nut shelling was a communal activity, a time for team work and story telling.
Today, we have machines that crash the shells, sort the nuts and grind them to a paste. We have developed. We have saved time. We are more productive for the most part.

Here the nuts are spread on the "alaro" (veranda) to dry. Once dry they are easier to shell plus they don't rot as easily as they would if left damp.
We make groundnut sauce, peanut paste, roasted nuts, boiled nuts, oil, we even eat them raw although I was told raw nuts were not good for ladies, just the men :-). With good weather and fertile soils we should not go hungry.

Feb 1, 2016

Teso Huts for Teso Brothers


Teso on my Mind: 

Every son must have his own hut. 

These are my brothers huts, built in my fathers compound. When they come to visit, their families spend nights in their own space. It's a modern hut with a small bathroom and space enough to section off the kids. Mud huts require more maintenance with the walls being patched up with mud every 3 months. 

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