Answered Prayers.

Today, am not sharing my story. I think mine has been too monotonous. I would not even call this a story; it rather is her testimony. She sent me a text a few days ago.

Rioba, I want your platform to share my story; maybe it will touch someone out there.

Her voice was strong, I really had no idea of the bomb about to be dropped on me, but you know that point where you are too eager to share; you do not mind the burden being placed on you. So I agreed; allowed myself to be sucked into a light path that began as a dark web. A few days later after deep meditation, I picked up my pen ready to document her journey.

Before you begin, I request you to include with these verses in your opening;

I must admit, I rarely meet souls that are eager to share their thoughts- on the mysteries of the man born of a virgin, and laid in a manger. Or the mysteries of a burning bush that would not consume the entire area. The word that made other humans feel entitled enough to ask their creator Manna from heaven or the Israelites’ Knight that saw a small bodied man from Israel triumph a gigantic good for nothing Philistine- but this one soul. Her dimpled smile that lit within her eyes showed that it was not a verse she crammed that day to impress me. Rather, through her experiences, she had meditated on these words and found her deeper meaning of the fruits ripped after tribulations.

I got a job last year. It being a startup, salary always came in late. At times, we saw it on ‘ViuSasa’. It was difficult for me to pay rent but at the back of my mind and the encouragement from my family and friends, I kept going- hoping- praying for better days. I kept longing for my rags to riches moment despite the unpredictability of the future. Through it all, I remained close to God. My mother cultivated a prayer culture in me that came in handy. A strong woman she is.She always encouraged me to keep at it in prayers. The drive to support my parents also kept me going.

You know, at times God puts you in situations for a reason. At the beginning, it never makes sense. I have been there, I know. When I had no food or rent. When I had no idea of the path my journey would shape into, my circle of prayerful women stood by me. Despite me hating to be a burden; they paid my rent; they paid my father’s medicationWhatever I needed they stood by me.”

Honestly, her calm aura was making me uncomfortable; I rarely know how to respond to people’s emotional situations. Call me Stone Cold…

I do not like being a burden to people. I felt abandoned. It felt like God had given up on me. At times, I called my mother crying, and she would tell me that God’s time was yet to come. At times though, it is never enough, you need to see pieces of a fruit on the table just to know the main course is coming”

Silence

For a while, I stopped going to church. I mean, what would I even tell God? I somehow lost hope. I had tried out for my dream job and passed all my interviews but they had not called me yet to tell me if I had gotten the job or not. It was frustrating; because they took other people and they kept, telling me there was no feedback. I was at a point where I did not understand what was happening but I kept the faith. I was tired of searching and settled for less, as long as I would get the money. Internships, Odd jobs… Name it. The work was difficult. The environment; hostile. The late nights, impossible deliveries, long hours on the congested roads with no pay was hard. I stopped counting on the other job I had initially applied. It was so easy to give up at this point but I was hopeful that God would work at his own time. My dream is to open a children’s home one day… I did not see that dream coming to pass without a sustainable job.

“When they say there is light at the end of the tunnel, believe it. Well, sometime later a friend of mine had a vacant position in their place of work. He aided me to get the job by helping me apply and giving in a good word for me. This is where my testimonies began. God’s timing was surely here. The pay was not that great as it was an internship opportunity though it was much better because of the consistency in pay making it more reliable. Despite my own situations, I never stopped praying in supplication. I spent my mornings praying for my friends who were still in need of jobs. Funny thing; they all were employed while I remained in the uncertain position. These were difficult circumstances but I left it to God.

Her story suddenly reminds me of Joyce Meyers teaching on the ‘The test of trust’ but that is a story you must explore on your own

Drumrolls ….

27th May 2019

Three weeks into my internship, I woke up and read Philippians 1:6 and prayed then went to work. At work, a friend called me and informed me he had received a job opportunity. As per my usual duty, I gave thanks to God. I guess it was the beginning of a blessed day.

That afternoon I got an anonymous call from the job I had applied for, informing me that despite being put on hold for months, they were still going to take me. She asked me to report to their office for a brief meeting. I honestly did not know how it would all turn out.After the meeting, I went back to my internship; the woman who called me said she would call me the next day.

Unfortunately, Three days later she had not called me. My hope and anticipation towards getting the job had been built but it occurred to me it was just another of my nightmares creeping again to torment my soul.

On that Monday my hope had been shattered, my spirit dampened, and my faith broken. For a minute as I thought about my life, I was scared of resorting to depression, but it being my circle of concern, I quit the worry. Instead, I asked my mother to make me top of her prayer list, interceding for me day and night. The day crawled slowly, then, that afternoon, I got an email notification from the company with an offer letter…

 ‘God ni nani Mirriam, God ni msooo!’ (Who is God? God is great)

That is my story- At times God tells you to wait. All you have to do is surrender to him and give him a chance. God will bless you at his own time. Some of these things teach us resilience, patience, perseverance; the list is endless. At least now I can stand firm in my faith in terms of tribulations. Do not forget He who puts you at that hill and when you are low do not forget to turn to him. At times through it, all we should acknowledge he is God. I can attest that there is a living God. He will always come through at his own time. Those hard times are only for a season and they also happen for a reason. Remain faithful, humble yourself and trust that he will always come through when His time is right.

I finally put my pen down. The atmosphere is changed. I can feel the aura of hope building around me. I am inspired and challenged at the same time. Even when the storms are rough, keep the faith like she did. No season lasts forever.

The raindrops are falling

First of all, I hope you missed my irrelevant humour, drafting this, am comforted by the sound of rain in the background. The comfort of knowing am within this shell of comfort while chaos erupt outside totally blows my mind. But then again that is just a reflection of my internals… It is chaos in there. The need for gratification for my soul clashing with my unending procrastination of deeds that are meant to reward me is overwhelming. These memories are scramming to break free but it may take me a while to grasp all of them.


The raindrops…


Am I the only one who finds the patter of rain on my windows fascinating. It’s like multiple tiny soldiers are headed to a battle field and they just have no idea they will not be returning home. They land with thunderous blows but slide down that glass pane scrambling for a bit of grasp but finally fall to the ground with a thud. Splashing their imaginary blood across the muddy puddle. It is amazing, I watch the repetitive action over and over, cultivating a sense of joy as the tiny soldiers tumble ot their downfall after picking a battle with gravity. A battle they clearly lost. Sick. I do not know where this dark humour was cultivated from, but life has a way of transforming you, hardening your heart, or maybe it just shapes you differently from the expectations of the society. Not my point though, back to the rain drops. Once in that muddy puddle, they may flow down the stream or remain in an ugly murk in the middle of the road. Children may come and stump on the drops now collected into a puddle of fallen soldiers. For the child, it is a happy spot. But I know the pain that these tiny soldiers feel. Its not just a tumble from grace to shame, It is also multiple trumpling on your broken bones from uncaring strangers. I have been there, I know what those rain drops are feeling. but just like everyone else, I shrug and walk away from my window. It pretty much is not my damn business.


I turn back to my draft; welcome to my new normal


I was accused of vanishing into thin air for the past couple of months. Well, in reality, I was actually struggling about how to come back into all this. At times am swamped with so many emotions, I have no idea if what I put down even makes sense, but then again, am no quitter… and here we are despite it not being where we began at. You know I could have opted out and let my heart wander to new adventures, but writing has always tickled a fancy in me. It is how best I connect with the tangles of ideas and events in my mind. The raindrops are ceasing, the storm is almost over. My window pane is moist. I guess its a stamp reminding us of the soldiers that once were… The chill that comes with it reminds us of the sinister thoughts that come with this weather. We freeze, but rather than cluster for warmth, we are currently scared of being butchered because the society says its okay. Story for another day though. The rain drops are gone and now my mind no longer focuses on the calamities of my life, that chapter is closed, only meant to be told. Am a new believer. It is time to think positively in my draft.


So about my disappearance. Am a social being especially with people that I am well acquainted with. I have insulated my bubble and lined it in a way that everyone has their place and in some weird way my phone acts as a guard to inform me of their presence. So some notification tones turn my insides because I know who is on the other end. And of late my greatest obsession has been about restoring my blog and shaping my writing into a pile of words that feed souls. It’s almost 9pm, the notification comes in, I definitely know it’s my host and I pick up my phone hoping its news about my restored domain. That premonition of doom. An imaginary knife stabs my tummy and for some reason it knocks out all air from my canal. For a second there I had tears in my eyes. Because within I felt repressed, I needed to vent, to chant, to sing if I could. I simply needed to put my voice out there and address the state of my world, yet here was a new stumbling block. My domain had gone on recession

My Yogi, you have been a channel i draw strength from through this journey


First things first, I did what any rational woman would do, I hang up and called my favorite to vent. Not my initial intention though, but emotion over powered rationality. My Yogi picks up my calls and I spend my first few minutes pouring my anger out on her about how I can’t do this anymore, how am thinking of new means of building my brand, and how I had an option of leaving all I had accomplished and beginning afresh. Bitter pill, but I had to face facts. It was either I start afresh or start afresh. She made me face my options and pick the most reasonable. Of course she told me to sleep over it for a few days, but I have never known myself to be patient with my own decisions. I think most of the time I have it figured out.


I guess it was a season of full transformation though, from my depression posts to blossoming, This flower was finally ready to be added to a bouquet that would make some broken hearted soul a little more happy. My journey was pretty easy. See, my body is arranged in some clock dimension that flows against the currents of the normal mundane functioning. I am more active at night than during the day. My muse flows best when the rest twist within their sheets. Most of my posts actually go up at midnight. Bingo!!! That light bulb that lit my mind. Long story short, here we have it, the birth of my new baby, My midnight muse. I felt discouraged at first, because this meant rebuilding my brand from scratch but in reality I guess am peeling off my old skin and taking a new journey from all dimensions. Then again realization hit me, the greatest of journeys begin with these small steps, so I am going to make mine without caring about what lays ahead or what I have left behind. Am simply documenting the now and hoping to find more life and adventure along the way.

The raindrops are back, but with it came a new revelation. Just like a life cycle, the same way they came down, at some point they evaporate, cluster and form clouds before they shower us with blessings. guess when the raindrops hit you, you see the soldiers coming home from a victorious battle, they cluster in a puddle on the ground, content over how well their efforts have made the environment green. On a sunny day, when the wind blows not, the puddle settle and clearly we can see a reflection of how peaceful the sky is. And maybe that calm is just what we are headed for… The raindrops are falling.


Adios Thoughts of the Soil, Bienvenue My Midnight Muse….