A prayer for you

Dear reader, hopefully it has been an incredible first week of the new year for you as has been for me. I have a gut feeling that 2017 is a year of amazing favour and unfathomable blessings. Hard work may have its place but how about those who win the rotary at the first attempt? What many people call "good luck" is what I call God's favour, and I pray it shines upon you this year like never before.

May the Lord God who created the light that dispelled the darkness that used to cover the earth in the beginning -- may that God smile upon you this year and chase away the darkness of misfortunes that have been hampering your progress. May your plans take tangible form and be so established that even your haters will count your blessings and confess that you are surely mega blessed!

The fact that you are created in the likeness of God means that you have potential beyond measure that need to be maximised. You were created to have dominion; to rule and subdue the world. I pray that you never forget that; may that stir you into action to manifest the creativity and power akin to that with which God created the sun, the moon, the stars, the seas and the swimming creatures therein, among other magnificences of creation.

To you who desires to get married this year, I pray you find one tailor-made for you. God said it is not good for a man to be alone and created a woman for him, meaning it was also not good for a woman to be alone. May you get that partner that will perfectly complement you; a loyal and dependable helpmeet with whom you will be happy and soar till the end of time.

In everything I pray you don't make your work, business or profession your idol at the expense of those close to you. I pray for the wisdom to strike the balance; mingle with your friends and family; take care of your health by eating well, exercisig and resting sufficiently because God didn't goof when He designated Sunday as a day of rest in addition to night times.

In Jesus' name I pray. Amen.

A conversation about the prosperity gospel

FRIEND: Man, you can get lost!  Must be the business of winning souls for Jesus. I hear you even went to Bible College.

ME: You know, man, things happen. It's true I've been pursuing a Diploma in Theology. 

A preacher and his translator

FRIEND: What! You want to become a Hummer-driving pastor?

ME: Ha-ha. What do you have against pastors living a good life anyway? 

FRIEND: I don't hate the players but I hate the game they play. Conning poor folk of their hard-earned money saying "bring the tithes and offerings into the house of God and the heaven will open and pour down a blessing you cannot contain!" Meanwhile it's only those pastors that become rich while their flock remain broke. 

ME: I tithe not because my pastor tell me to, but in obedience to God who through the Bible tells me to tithe and give offerings. 

FRIEND: So are you blessed? If that's the case why do you still 'pad' (walk) to work? 

ME: You are better than that, man. Owning a car has no nothing to do with being rich or poor. 

FRIEND: But why are those pastors obsessed with 'big-ass' cars and 'big-ass' mansions yet Jesus whom they preach had nowhere to lay His head? 

ME: You say Jesus had nowhere to lay His head yet He had the power to feed 5000 people with five fishes and two loaves of bread. And once He sent Peter to pick money for taxes from a fish. Man, all the silver and gold in the world was Jesus's and is still the Lord's. There is no testimony in His servants and those who believe in Him living in lack. He came that we may have life and live in abundance. So there is absolutely nothing wrong with teaching people to hate poverty and believe they were created to live in prosperity. 

 FRIEND: I see you're already talking like them prosperity preachers! Anyway it was nice chatting but I've to go. Let's stay in touch; I'm interested in talking more about this. 

ME: Sure. God bless you.

The computer brain

In the 1930s a neurosurgeon named Wilder Graves Penfield discovered, through electrical stimulation of certain areas of the brain, that people can remember some past events and how they made them feel. Penfield concluded that the brain works like a computer with memory banks; it records and stores specific things we see or hear and those memories and feelings are often replayed and relived as vividly as when they first occurred.

What do you feed your mind on?

The memories and emotions stored on the brain can be triggered back to life by a statement or deed, and can affect the rest of our day negatively or positively. Thus a bad history and unpleasant experiences often influence an individual's attitude towards life. The brains of pessimistic people are full of negative data from bad past experiences. 

But with this knowledge you can change that. As a child you probably had no control over what entered your brain, and you are still struggling to cleanse it of all the negative vibes projected onto it. But as an adult, you have control over what is stored on your mind. If you surround yourself with people who are worriers, or who can't speak three words without cussing, your brain will save sad and dirty vibes and before you know it your speech will be depressing and your disposition sour. If your idea of weekend entertainment is watching pornographic movies don't be surprised when you end up raping  your maid. 

Paul the apostle said we can shield the mind from corruption by thinking only on things that are true, honest, just, pure, lovely and of good report; things that are worthy of virtue and praise. Feeding on such uplifting things by choosing carefully who we interact with daily, what we see, read and generally participate in, will enrich the bank memory of our brain so much that it will store and replay memories and feelings as will only orchestrate success, beauty and happiness in our lifestyles and relationships.

A happy outcome

Today being Easter, finds me reflecting on the suffering of Jesus Christ. He was rejected in his own home town, and when the going got really tough in the last moments of his earthly life, even his disciples denied and deserted him. But Jesus did not give up. I believe the reason he endured all that and the pain of nails being driven into his palms and ankles, was because he kept his mind on the resurrection.

Thus Jesus was quintessentially an optimist who told himself that no matter the intensity of his suffering, three days later he would pop out of the grave and triumphantly fly like an eagle to heaven to everlasting glory. I've always drawn untold inspiration and satisfaction from the victory of Jesus. He was the perfect trailblazer who conquered that we too may conquer when we keep our eyes on the ultimate prize.

I remember when I spent three weeks without money. Whatever I tried did not work. I experienced myriad moods from anxiety to anger, frustration, bitterness and self-pity, until I realised that I was behaving like the migraine sufferer who requested his best friend to place his head on a table and drill a small hole in the side hoping that some air would enter in and soothe his pain away!

My dry season was something temporal. Moreover there were people going through far greater tribulations, so I decided to put off worry. This gave me a peace of mind even when I was still hungry. I learned that suffering truly produces endurance and character and a hope that never fails. It's this hope for a happy outcome that gave Jesus the strength to withstand. No matter what ugly things life throws at you, rest in the allurements of optimism and you will triumph in the end as Jesus did.

Happy Easter.

A drink of water

One hot day I was walking on the streets of Kampala feeling a little blue. I was stopped by a man who pointed at my half-full bottle of mineral water and proceeded to perform a little pantomime about drinking. I gave him the water and watched him gallop it down like a man who had been on the verge of dying of thirst.

All one needs is a drink of love and some understanding

 It was one of those rare experiences that leave you a little confused but which, as you ponder them, give you a deeper, sometimes, life-changing understanding of life. Here I was all miffed because of a business deal gone bad. And here was this mute stranger who needed just a drink of water to carry him through another unpredictable day. After he had taken the water, he bowed and gave me the most appreciative smile I ever saw.

It was enough to extinguish all the anger and frustration that until then had been boiling on the inside of me like a kettle. I continued on my way now lost in thoughts like a philosopher on one of his evening walks. I was thinking of how the things that give meaning and fulfillment to life are simple yet they have been complicated because selfish ambition.

All one needs in this life is a little drink of love and some understanding. Some people might be so hard up that they go on for days without a proper meal yet a thriving neighbour throws away food every morning. How I wish we all learn to get interested in the lives of not just us and our friends and families but others as well. Try befriending one of those street beggars, and your conversations alone could change his life, and yours. Forever.

My personality of the year

If it was not for the goodness of some people, I would not be here today. That is why every kind Ugandan is my personality of the year. Your goodness gives others the courage to keep going and the inspiration to do better as well.

So if you helped somebody in need, visited and encouraged a prisoner, bought a jobless brother a meal, took a glass of juice to a patient in hospital, name it, you are my hero. Every act of love, however insignificant it may seem, if done from the depth of the heart, will always be cherished by the receiver.

 Often we think giving is a job done by the moneyed, but there are no greater riches than the riches of the heart. You may be struggling to make ends meet but if you have love, you have a treasure. Keep on sharing and those moves of love will give you a satisfaction that cannot be matched.

To be sure, the returns are immeasurable. You may not get money but the inner joy and peace will be better than anything money can buy. It is a thankless heart, and things like envy, covetousness, laziness, unforgiveness and bitterness that choke the air we breathe, making life impossible. If in the place of these, love is inserted, life gets better and better.

Love is understanding. Love is peaceful. Love is enduring. Love is not envious and has no resentment in its makeup. It forgives, does not keep a list of wrongs, never puts others down or rejoices at their misfortunes, but always looks for the best in people. That is love.

A very wise and inspired man named Paul said three things in life matter: faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these, he said, is love. Love is what will keep us better and prospering in 2015 and the subsequent years.

The secret of giving

The story of the Uruguayan president is a story of a selfless giver. President Jose Mujica earns a monthly salary of $12,500 (Shs32m) but keeps only $1,250 (Shs3.2m), donating the rest to charity. This has earned the 77-year-old plaudits as the most generous president in the world, and his country today is the second least corrupt nation in Latin America.

 Allen distributes sweets. It's more blessed to give than to receive

It has been said that you can give without loving but you cannot love without giving. This is evidently a man who genuinely loves and it is this love that provokes him to give that much when most of his counterparts especially in Africa are draining their national coffers for self gratification.

He also reminds me of an unnamed American who donated Shs400 million to the Makerere Full Gospel Church building project. The fact that he preferred to remain anonymous shows his is true largess, the kind that challenges you and I to be selfless givers as well.

I have read many biographies about very successful people and most of them have revealed that the greatest secret to financial security, the best secret that breaks the chains of scarcity is the secret of giving. Even the Bible says how more blessed it is to give than to receive.

And this giving, by the way, is not just about money. You give what you have, and it works if you give with all your heart. You can share some of your expertise free of charge, give some advice, help a child to cross the road, and so forth.

Giving is more rewarding when it targets the disadvantaged, those in dire need such as the orphans, poor widows and the elderly, as well as when it comes in the form of supporting worthy initiatives like contributing to a campaign to buy mosquito nets for an orphanage.

So, keep giving and never get tired of being generous. As the saying goes, he who waters will himself be watered. The blessing will blow off the roof because it comes in many forms. Good health, great friends, inner joy and a peace of mind that surpasses human understanding. This is the kind of blessing that goes beyond the tangible and stretches into eternity.

How wonderful, then, it would be to emulate the precedent set by President Jose Mujica, and begin to be selfless givers. For as St. Paul the Apostle implored, "Let us not grow weary in doing good for in due season we will reap if we do not give up."

What Christmas is and is not

A joker posted on Facebook a picture of a bloody Santa Claus after getting knocked down by a car. A man is weeping over the tragedy and the caption reads: "No Christmas for me: Santa is dead!" I like the underlying message: Christmas brings more misery than joy if you really think about it. And that's only because we wait to do good and be generous around this time when we ought to do this everyday. 
    
Moreover, Christmas gifts ceased being about goodwill so long ago that there is no longer shame in demanding for them. That's why somebody will be dumped for not buying the "perfect gift!" Last Christmas a friend of mine received a brand new smart phone from his brother abroad. As soon as his girlfriend saw it, she cajoled and employed all tricks in the book to own it but failed. She then threw a 'tight' tantrum, asking my friend to choose between her and his phone.  
 

"Gifts are exchanged by people who can barely sit in the same room without suffering severe nausea," wrote a Monitor journalist in a recent article, aptly capturing the hypocrisy and superficiality associated with Christmas giving. 

Well, the optimist is saying it's high time we returned to the basics of doing it the right way. The Ugandan Police shouldn't come out now to say bars will close at 10pm on Christmas. This should be an everyday phenomenon if children are to have quality time with their parents and grow up to become responsible citizens. 

 There are also those people who are clueless about the essence of Christmas.  All they know is that from mid December until the New Year kicks in, they have to let their spirits loose and party like the world is coming to an end. "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year," they holler in deep voices they believe to be flawless replication of Santa's, and clink their glasses in multiple toasts. And on the second day of January, they are broke, heavily indebted and thoroughly restless.

 It's for this and more that we should not jump on the bandwagon. Refuse to be blackmailed into buying a gift you cannot afford. Refuse to give something if you don't want to. For Christmas is not about the hullabaloo that is rending the atmosphere already. It's about loving and sharing and being there for one another all year through.

--This was first published in the Sunday Monitor of December 23, 2012

………

The ladder of happiness

A television ad shows a young man saying he would buy a ladder if he won Shs200m. At first I found the idea not just funny, but ridiculous. But I have since had to reconsider seeing he could have been speaking symbolically. Maybe the ladders are the networks he would build to take him to the top and give him the satisfaction that is elusive to most of us.

The more I thought about it, the more I realised how much I need a ladder too. I need one with huge rungs to take us (family, friends and colleagues) up the festive tree in whose branches we shall pluck the fruits of happiness and connection that we missed sharing together much of this year because of the busy-ness of our lives.

Christmas with Dad many years ago

It never used to be this way. That is why you often hear of the "good old days." Today individualism has infiltrated the hearts of men and women and taken the place of communal love so much that children no longer look to elders for meaningful Christmas. Now it is a fat, mystical creature with a freaky laugh and a long white beard that children look to. In my time we never heard of Santa. All I remember is the entire clan celebrating together with lots of eats and music and laughter whose memories sustained us to the next Christmas.

And the only way that true spirit of festivity can return is if everyone makes it a deliberate plan to bless someone; not just a family member, but a neighbour or even stranger. I learnt it does not take much during a recent visitation upcountry. I asked a boy what he wanted and he said bread. This was no milk-teethed child but a chirpy Primary Three pupil who tops his class every term. He was barefooted and in shorts that needed some mending. Yet he did not ask for shoes or some expensive toy children his age dream about nightly. He asked for bread.

I'm sure every reader of this column has the capacity to return to the village with a sack of rice or a box of soap. You would be amazed the difference a loaf of bread, a kilo of meat or sugar can make in the life of a disadvantaged individual. It could make this their best festive season. So get your ladder and help someone climb to the level of happiness never before reached. It will multiply your joy too

Why the Dead Sea is dead

It was a first for me. A young woman in high heels gave a man on the streets of Kampala a half-full bottle of mineral water, and after gulping it down, the man let out a loud "ah" in a way that suggested he was grateful for the water more than he would have been for money.

The experience got the scales falling from my eyes. I realised for the first time that I can always give what I have. There is a tendency in church as everywhere of thinking in monetary terms when it's time to give. People are shunning churches or wedding meetings, and are not checking on the prisoner because they think there's money involved. Yet a mango from your garden, a bottle of mineral water or even your mere presence could do just as fine.

The Dead Sea is sometimes called "Stinking Sea" or "the Devil's Sea"

Consider Mother Teresa of Calcutta and her Sisters of Charity who carried with them only hearts aflame with love. By representing "love in action" as Malcolm Muggeridge writes in Something Beautiful for God (1972), they made all the difference. Working with "the poorest of the poor", Mother Teresa discovered that "being unwanted is the worst disease that any human being can ever experience," and that a loving heart was the only cure.

To emphasise her point, humanity needs more love than money. And how do you love those that need love without getting in close contact with them? Think of the street kids, the despised "little people," the abused prostitutes or the rejected poor. They are human too; they too have a right to respect, love and understanding. They are the neighbours that Jesus asks us to love in proportion to how much we love ourselves.

Now, on why the Dead Sea is dead, a friend told me it's because it receives but does not give back. It receives water mainly from the Jordan River but since it has no outlet, what it gets stays till it's evaporated by the hot desert climate, which unfortunately means all the fish that come in soon dies. Simply put, the Dead Sea is the 'meanest' most 'selfish sea.

Thus we can do better by giving of our time and hearts; sacrificing a little for the good of others. Singer Nneka says beautifully that "love is the heart-beat of life," without which we shall certainly end up dead like the Dead Sea.

The day death lost its sting

I know of nothing that inspires optimism more than Easter; the resurrection of Jesus - the day humanity's greatest enemy, death, lost its sting.

Years ago, I lived with medics that turned their home into a clinic because there was none in the neighbourhood. Once or twice a week, someone in critical condition would be ferried in mostly on a stretcher.

O grave where is thy victory?

I was a keen boy that secretly watched the terrors of day and night as men and women fought long for their lives. The battle often involved kicking and heaving and jerking and guttural groaning and the white part in the eye exerting its prominence oddly while foam popped from somewhere to wreath the mouth. Then the grim reaper would finally win, and silence, as sobering as I can feel it even now, ensued shortly before it was cut through with wailing and screams of grief from the relatives of the departed.

Weeks on end, I had trouble sleeping as episodes of the dying man obstinately replayed in my mind leaving me with unspeakable fright. I didn't want to die like men I had watched die yet I knew that one day whether I liked it or not, death and I would have to confront each other. Sometimes I would see an ugly creature with a pointed forehead written on "death" in capital letters coming for me in the dark and I would jump up with a scream of terror.

When I discovered much later that one of the authors I read as an adolescent, Steven King, was as well terrified and fascinated by death so much that he was convinced he would not live beyond the age of 20, I was relieved. And at the university, I heard an Easter sermon based on the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and inspired by 1 Corinthians 15, titled, "Death, where is your sting?" in which the preacher argued that for believers, death is just a harmless shadow, and a path to eternal bliss, since Christ conquered it when he rose from the grave three days after burial.

The optimist was fascinated; his fears vanished once and for all. I have since had great times mocking death with these beautiful lines from English poet Alexander Pope: "O grave! where is thy victory?/ O death! where is thy sting?"

Reflections on Joseph and Mary

I've posted this late but it was first published on Christmas in Sunday Monitor

My friend Julius posing next to a painting depicting Joseph and Mary with baby Jesus

• Mary was certainly a veritable knockout, the village belle, beautiful beyond measure! Joseph must have cried, "Holy Jesus" the first he saw her! And he was never the same again! That's why he was cool about something that would drive today's man insane. He was cool about Mary carrying a pregnancy that was not his because he was not going to let anything take his Mary away from him. It's called unconditional love!  
• He must have been the coolest guy in his time else he would not have wooed to victory a stunner like Mary! And the coolness of that time was certainly not dependent on the lakeside mansion or the yacht one owned. True swagger back then, at least in Mary's books, was measured by how much time you spent in the prayer closet, if you know what I mean! 
• Don't you think Joseph was ridiculed by his 'messed-up' hommies next door? They must have called him a capon for not trying to get some from a woman as lovely as Mary! But for Joseph, sex was a sacred gift best unwrapped in the arena of marriage. And because he respected that, he set us an example that will never be erased.
• In a world where sex is advertised and fornication the day's obsession, a brother out there must be wondering where he can find a virgin. Take heart, brother; I believe some ladies are following in the footsteps of Mary. They are jealously guarding the precious treasure that virginity is! They don't need plastic surgery; don't have to rock bikinis to receive affirmation from men. Such women believe true beauty is in fearing the Lord, and are keeping themselves for the men God has preserved for them. You can even hear the herald angels giving them a standing ovation!
• Lastly and importantly, for the first time before the dawn of artificial insemination, a virgin gave birth because Mary respected her value system. Jesus became the "new kid on the block" that altered the course of history and humanity. By choosing to walk in the path of sexual purity, Joseph and Mary proved beyond any shadow of doubt that the rewards of waiting; of being a little more patient are far greater; extending into eternity.

Merry Christmas y'all, and Happy New Year.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Mary

I remember being arrayed in new "Kaunda" suits, and flowery ready-made cotton dresses for my sisters. From a distance, the instrumental versions of popular Christmas carols oozed nostalgically from the church organ.

Posing with Dad on Christmas in the good 'ol days

But sweeter was the night arrangement when natives grouped on Christmas Eve and moved house to house singing their hearts out. It would start in my sleep, the mellow notes reaching my ears with angelic faintness. And then the music would rise with such grudging beauty as would rouse me, lighting my face up with a smile on realising they were the night choristers singing outside our veranda.

My father would give them money, and they would ask us our favourite carols, and would sing, longingly, particularly Silent Night, from the core of their hearts, before moving on to the next house.

I would linger out in the moonlight, watching the stars twinkling aesthetically in the sky. We were living in Kigezi back then, and I've never seen anything like the beauty of the stars in the Kigezi heavens!

After church, we would sit round the dining table garnished with all sorts of delicacies, devouring and washing them down with sodas (soda was a big deal back then) while between swallows, father entertained us with memorable anecdotes.

Later, he would teach us rare poses while the village photographer snapped away. Christmas was the only time father was not tough, the only time we were completely free with him. And how we relished the good merry cheer together!

At night, he would insert new batteries in his Phillips radio-cassette, and with a single glide across the floor, bow before my mother, his hand extended. She would pick it with an obliging smile, and soon they would be gliding and flying and whirling together in a dance of waltz to the effervescent sounds of Dolly Parton. We would watch, hypnotised, till father said it was our turn. And the best dancer would earn some money for sweets.

That way, my father gave Christmas a special definition that always makes me look forward to every December 25.

Even though times have changed, it still moves me that some people have lost faith in Christmas. That's why I'm dedicating this piece to my colleague, Mary Atuheire. Ditch your office plans, and come spend it with me. It'll be a Christmas to remember, I promise. December will never be your worst month of the year again.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas, Mary!