Christmas memories

My most cherished memory is of choristers singing carols in the village on the night before Christmas. As a boy, I would lie awake in my bed waiting for them until I drifted away into fitful slumber. Then around 3am, strains of voices would reach me with angelic faintness and keep rising with grudging sweetness till I was fully roused.

My siblings and I with Dad on Christmas day back in time

My young heart would reverberate with sheer joy as the singers sung beloved carols from Silent Night to Jingle Bells with wholehearted voices that filled our house like subwoofers. My father would come out too and request an encore of Joy to the World, and watch enraptured as they sung his favourite carol. He would then thank them profusely and give them some money before they moved to the next house. We would linger out in the moonlight admiring the glorious moon and the twinkling stars that seemed to have come nearer to celebrate this blessed time of year with us.

The next morning would be church time. I will never forget Fr. Wence's singsong voice as delivered his Christmas sermon to a packed church with everyone dressed to the nines in the fashions of the time. For my brothers and I, it would be bell-bottom "Kaunda" suits deliberately tailored bigger so we could grow into them.

Lunch was always a shared affair with members of the extended family. That meant a goat or two and some fowls would be slaughtered. I still see us around a big table garnished with mixed delicacies, devouring and washing them down with sodas -a big deal back then.

Night time was party time as my father would insert new batteries in his black Phillips radio-cassette player and dance waltz with my mother. How they would glide and fly on the dance floor with grace! Nothing will ever erase the beauty of boyhood Christmases from my heart and mind.

Redefining optimism

Most people think optimism is all about blind faith; believing that good things will happen to them even when they laze their days away and continue to indulge their evil streaks. Far from it. True optimism is a discipline that costs much. It is a choice. When you choose to see the best in others, and believe that life will get better, and strive to give the best with the hope of inspiring others to do the same, you are a true optimist.

Nelson Mandela was a bona fide optimist

A search through the archives divulges three authentic optimists: Martin Luther Jr., Mother Teresa and Nelson Mandela. But for today I will focus on Madiba to help you grasp the doctrine of optimism in its centrality. The mental image I have of him is a towering giant who made you feel at peace by just looking at him. There was something in his bearing that inspired security and a sense of belonging even in the most threatened child.

Madiba said a nation should not be judged by how it treats its highest citizens but its lowest ones. Here the rich and powerful are flown to the best hospitals abroad while most health centres back home are crumbling with neither facilities nor doctors to help the poor. Corruption has eaten its way to the bone marrow of every public institution while the president continues to reappoint the implicated. What optimism do such people inspire?

Mandela's zest for life and buoyant spirit was infectious beyond measure. He believed poverty as was apartheid could be routed by the actions of men. His actions and words lit a fire of courage, hope and strength to those in despairing times, reminding us of what we are capable of if we refuse to let fear hold us down.

Even 27 years of jail-time could not destroy him but made him stronger. Prison was a tool to embitter him but it made him better. "As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom," he said in 1990, "I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I would still be in prison."

I was fascinated by his view that no one is born hating another; that we should focus on teaching to love because love comes more naturally to the human heart than hate. Talk of a true reconciler, forgiver and pacifier. Madiba embodied the true optimist who defies the odds. His life reminds me of Tupac Shakur's poem, "the rose that grew from concrete."

In memory of Estella

I am looking at the picture of you taken 10 years ago. It is the picture of tears welling in your eyes. Even your hair is a little ruffled with tension, and your lips cling to each other in the emotion of the impending parting. It pains to see the sadness in your beautiful eyes. So I reach out with a kiss to shush the avalanche of sentiments vibrating through you…then I realize it is only a picture.

It is hard to believe a decade has passed since you were taken. You were a rose in full bloom when you were snatched by that monster virus, leaving me torn and alone; clutching at nothing but the straw of old memories.

I still see us walking to school, our arms around each other's shoulders. The whole world knew you were my sister even though we were no blood relatives. You used to say, "Let them stay duped" and then you would laugh gingerly and say we are stuck together not just for life but for eternity as well!

That is why it was so stunning to us when the first separation was announced. That is why there were tear stains when you were flown to the United States. It was necessary that you go get better treatment. At the time we didn’t know what ailed you. It had been kept a secret by those who knew better. What did you do to be born with HIV/Aids?

Then there was merciless symbol which marked the most difficult separation of all – the coffin in which you were brought back. Even up to now, I feel like you were not real; never existed at all; I feel like you were just a figment of my wild imagination. But then I have pictures of us.

At the time fate struck, I was still a boy grappling to find myself. Now I am a man with a gift for analysis, and my perspective is that you are in heaven. So rather than grieve for you on World Aids Day last Sunday, I thanked God for the good times we shared growing up together.

Even though it has been years since you ceased living, I am still believing that some day we shall be reunited in heaven where there will be no more parting. You were right after all –we are stuck together not just for life but for eternity as well!

Show me the true geniuses

Genius. The first word I fell for. I love its feel on my tongue and its sound in my ear. But I have come to realise that there is no genius in this world especially if the word is used without adulterating its meaning.

Several rockets have been launched into space and men have walked on the moon, true. I doff my hat for the brains behind the awesome scientific and technological inventions. Yet even these don't qualify the word genius.

No matter our strokes of brilliance, let's remain humble

If the world had a genius (s)he would have created a pill that one can swallow and live forever! The Aids virus would have long been exterminated, and a special diet would have been produced to insulate the rich and mighty against cancers and other terrible maladies.

Oh how confounded I was by Michael Jackson's passing! I could not believe the whole "king of pop", with all his money, one who defied the forces of gravity and hypnotized the world with his "moon-walk" dance could not be brought back to life by a convergence of the world’s best medical brains!

I will also never forget the day I sat in a taxi next to a sleepyhead. He kept falling on me and when I angrily shook him up he opened his eyes once before sleeping off again. How helpless we are that we don’t even have the genius to keep our eyes open.

Let us admit our puny efforts and use genius in reference to the only Being that truly is -- God the creator. He is the genius potter and we are mere clay that return to dust when He withdraws the breath that sustains us.
Just like the 'unsinkable' Titanic hit the iceberg and sank, we are doomed when we get puffed-up in the delusion that we are geniuses. It takes one bite from a tiny anopheles mosquito

So let us stay humble no matter our strokes of brilliance.

The word uproot stands out in the success formulae

Rummage through the archives about those who truly made it. Look at the people you greatly admire. They have given their best to be where they are. They got their hoes and uprooted the things that impinge progress.

You must unlearn the things that impinge success

To uproot means to unlearn everything that wears us out like a pebble in an athlete’s track shoe that makes him lose the race if not removed. Some people say you cannot get a job in Uganda today unless you are a Munyankore or have "connections in high places." You have to pity people with such mentalities!

The axe must as well be wielded against pessimism. Ward off negative people and surround yourself with those who believe in you and see the glass as half full rather than half empty. In a recent newpaper article, Richard Branson wrote, "Track down people you would love to work with and start sharing your ideas. You will soon discover that you found some great partners and more importantly some great friends."

Usually people who put others down are loafers who have been at the same level for ages. They are personified by the sluggard who King Solomon said is so ridiculously lazy that even when he digs his hand into a bowl of food, it wears him out to bring it back to his mouth!

Nothing takes the place of discipline and hard work. As Ishta Nandi once tweeted, "Good things come to those who hustle." Fruitful hustling comes with prioritizing and shrewd time management. Even if you come from a wealthy family, there is special fulfilment in personal attainments. As an African proverb articulates, "No matter how tall your father is, you must do your own growing."

My all-time favourite sports personality, Muhammad Ali confessed he hated waking up early and the arduous training routine. But he told himself: suffer now and live like a champion the rest of your life. Today, retired and tormented by Parkinson disease, he remains the greatest heavy weight boxing champion of the world.

Know what you are capable of and let it shine today. That "false evidence appearing real" a.k.a. fear, should never stand in your way. Be tenacious as you uproot that irritating weed in the path of achievement just like a tree is pruned to help it grow taller and stronger.