Influencers


This week past, has been a huge blessing for me. Monday to Wednesday night, we attended the Influencers conference in Perth Western Australia. It happens every year in Adelaide and Perth in January.

I was deeply challenged, convicted and encouraged to be more than I am now. One of the greatest questions I was asked amidst all the teaching was “Am I carrying my share of the burden?” Its a question worth asking any one of us, Zambian, Australian, those countryless…anyone. As a Christian, am I carrying my share of the burden? As a family member, am I carrying my share of the burden? As a Zambian am I carrying my share of the burden? As a person living in Australia am I carrying my share of the burden?

We all have something to offer even though we think otherwise, but it’s time we got over ourselves and lived for Someone greater than ourselves. Dr Ravi Zacharias said, it takes one man to lead people into untold evil but it also only takes one man to change the world for good. What is your contribution to this world? When will we stop waiting for someone else to bring change and be the ones that stand for truth and justice?

I was convicted because I know in whom I have believed and yet do not live my life as one with conviction. I am not a source of hope for broken people. There’s a need in the world, we are meant to meet. As Zambian’s what are we doing but sitting and waiting for change to come or seeking to better our own lives and not the lives of those around us? As people, we uproot boundaries wanting to live free but true freedom has some boundaries. The consequences of removing those boundaries will be devastating. When will we stand up for what is right and true?

I was challenged to live out my faith, to get over my small life, small world and focus on Christ and live for Him. I was challenged to forgive and move on, to not let the past determine where I am going; I was challenged to let go once again.I was encouraged because I have great dreams that I believe were planted in me. Dreams that seem impossible but I know that the one who placed them in me, will fulfil them, if only I believe. In the end, it’s all for His glory

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Happy Australia Day


Yesterday (by a few hours) was Australia day. People were posting on social media about enjoying the celebrations. People lined the foreshore of Perth to see the spectacular fireworks display, others having too much to drink, while others had nice picnics with their families. Even the Tennis went on break at the Australian open in Melbourne, while fireworks were heard and seen, exploding in beautiful colours.

With so much life surrounding this day, it’s so easy to get caught up in it. But that’s not really all there is to this day, is it? While others were rejoicing yesterday, others were burning Australian flags, some just out of hate and disregard for the law, others out of true hurt at the fact that the day celebrated is the day their lands were invaded and taken away.

I can’t help but wonder, if what we are meant to celebrate is being Australian, the people, this vast nation and all it has to offer, why then is it so hard for people to agree with something as simple as the day Australia is celebrated. Shouldn’t it bother us that something we are doing now, offends our neighbour?  What would be lost if the date were moved? it doesn’t have to be the 26th of January, it can be any other day of the year. Why pick a day that changed the lives of the Aboriginal people of these lands? Does it aid the building of bridges or just fuels tension.

i think of Australia Day as a day where unity despite the differences held, is celebrated, so why should a day like the 26th of January be the day, when all it does is fuel anger in the Indigenous people? Sometimes we need to consider others and do what benefits all parties.

undefiled


There’s a girl, a lot like myself…not much different from any other girl.
She’s never known what it feels like to be pure, to be untouched. She’s been used her whole life by those who should have known better…Those who claimed to love her
She is scared, broken and unable to love…
Christ has saved her but she finds herself struggling with the same demons of the past. She can’t let go.
The thought of trusting any man is just impossible; to love him would be weakness. She can’t bring herself to lie with a man she loves, one she’s married to because it just seems wrong somehow…
If only she was clean, pure, untouched, undefiled…

There’s another girl, lost and pregnant.
She thought it wouldn’t happen to her.
Oh God what is she to do? It was just one time and now she’s paying the price.
She’s only in high school, her parents will kill her. She has nowhere to turn!
She’s given them reason to throw her out…what will she do? She was right after all! “You’re a naughty girl!” she would say
She decides to have an abortion…better that than having to face that witch of a woman…better than proving her right!
As she walks out of the clinic…she wishes she could undo what she had done…but she can’t! the baby is gone…she feels cold inside…empty
They said it was just tissue…not yet alive but she knows it’s more
“it’s moving,” she had heard the nurse say. Her baby is gone
“you’ve already proven her right!!!” she hears a voice say, “you’re naughty even without the baby to prove it! You are defiled, unclean…”
She wishes she were untouched

There’s another girl, she’s a mother.
People ask, “How come? Isn’t it wrong in Christianity to have a baby before you’re married???”
they question her beliefs, they question the existence of her God.
She proclaims Christ and yet is bound by sex. She can’t bring herself to be with anyone, and yet she touches herself. She knows it’s wrong and yet she can’t seem to stop.
She can’t stand men. She’s been hurt to many times to know…to many times to let go…
She met a man, who’s just lovely and knows he’s not like the rest.
She’s been abused and has herself abused.
She is unworthy of him just as she is unworthy of Christ
oh how she wishes she were clean, pure, a virgin,
“Untouched”

There’s a girl, she sees her friends, one after the other, falling prey to the culture around them.
She decides to join in…
They Party like the world, dress like the world and make sure they are in Church on sunday
they sleep around, always making sure they use contraception
they look down on the unwed mother…they gossip about the one caught in the arms of the married man
They pretend that’s not them. Testing forbidden treasures, ,one, two, three, four, playing with toys and all, It’s just experimenting…No one need know, forgetting that “there are no secrets in life.
They are fooling everyone including themselves. And yet Christ knows…he sees them just like the others. Just like those they look down on
They might just be worse off because remorse does not touch them
They are unclean, untouched, defiled

There’s a girl, she introduces her friend to the party scene…tells her friend lies…handing her over to the lion himself.
She sees her friend going astray but only gossips…She doesn’t want to be judgmental, after all, Christ said “judge not!”
her friend is taken by the world…her Masters voice she no longer hears. Yet she has her legs still crossed and that’s all that matters right???
Both are unclean and defiled…touched

There’s another girl,
She dresses just right…nothing vulgar, decent.
She’s in the house of worship every service
she gives her tithe, serves, says her prayers, refrains from forbidden foods, does what is required of her…the whole deal. She sometimes thinks bad thoughts and occasionally lies…but it’s nothing serious…you can’t do everything the holy book says….
She follows the law of God
She sees girls throwing their lives away and sleeping around, living like the world and thinks she’s better than them. She thinks, she is clean, undefiled, untouched.
She doesn’t share Christ because they are unworthy of Him.
She forgets that she like them, like all humanity is  unclean, not untouched, defiled…that it is Christ who cleanses us.

If only


Lord, if men would realise that women are to be treasured and protected…not to be used to fulfil selfish desires but to be honoured…that girls will give sex in exchange for companionship, love and respect because they are disillusioned and that their hearts break when that love and respect is not shown…if only men could open their eyes and see that the girl they lie with today, is beauty that they might destroy. Worthy of the respect due a mother; she might one day mother their own son’s wife. That she is a grandmother, mother, wife; she is a child, a sister, a granddaughter, a friend; maybe even your own. If only they would open their eyes and see that she looks enticing, yes, but let the man who she was meant for enjoy her, just as you will one day hope to alone enjoy yours. That they owe their wives nothing less than what they expect, a man who is untouched. That as enticing as she seems, she might just be the seam ripper that makes you come undone…

That we women would open their eyes and see that if he loves “me”, He will wait. He will want the best for “me” even if it means he loses “me” . If only we would realise that compromise leaves us lost and broken…unsatisfied…pleasure lasts a moment but when it’s gone, what do you have left? If only we could treasure what is right and true, closing our ears off to the sweet nothings he whispers and hearing the truth in his words; hearing that we will get hurt and that he cares very little in the end.  Hear the truth in His words…the words of a loving Father…You are precious, loved and need nothing other than Him. That honour and respect; that love does not come by giving yourself away. That letting him have his way with you, deprives you, and if he hasn’t married you, he was no right to you…That there’s something more that awaits you, a man maybe, who will value you. If only we would realise that just because you gave in once, you don’t have to keep giving in, or that just because he denied you your right to “NO!” does not mean you lost the right…If only we realised that just because he ignored your “NO!” doesn’t mean that all men seek to take from us, by force if need be… If only we could see His tear-stained face, with arms outstretched, sweat beading, bleeding  for us, His deeds shouting as loud as His words, I love you this much!

IF ONLY…

Zambia the Christian nation…Really?


With the current state of affairs in Zambia, I wonder, are we really doing justice to the name we profess. I also wonder, is it even right to impose Christianity on a nation when it’s something so personal?

I’m one of those who have rejoiced at the declaration but over recent months I wonder if at all we are not dragging Christ’s name in the mud. I’ve heard it said, “Zambia will be governed under Christian principles” but that has not been the case since the declaration was made. There is no justice in our country and I believe we cannot blame the current situation on the government but ourselves. I do not mean to say that our country has no good happening…there is a lot of good going on. But if we want to keep flying Christ as our country’s banner, there is no room for apathy.

In a Christian nation, children should not be living on the streets fending for themselves. The poor should not be oppressed. Pollution would not be as high because we wouldn’t just bury our heads in the sand while the vulnerable ingest lead. Fear would leave, and the need to do what is right would take over. We wouldn’t be so moved by competing with each other wanting to be the best dressed or to have the best weddings or best cars because Christianity pulls people out of ditches not burying them as we rise to the top.

Yes, we have a rich culture, where we believe in taking care of each other, but then how did corruption become so rampant? If we are a Christian nation, why isn’t it visible in our treatment of prisoners? In our care for the sick? If we are a Christian nation, why isn’t it visible in the integrity of our education system? Why do we pay bribes to those in authority just to get the services that should be and on paper are entitlements? Why isn’t it reflected in how we choose our leaders? Why do teachers just get transferred to another school when they get a school girl pregnant? Is that in any way, a reflection of Christ? When a woman is photographed with her legs in the air, having a papsmear done and pasted on a news website, is that a reflection of Christ? When we allow people to take photos of the vulnerable without their consent and use them to show the plight of our people is that right???

I am not calling for the removal of the clause but for an evaluation of whether Christ sits on the throne in the minds of Zambians as we claim. What do people see when they look at our country, do they see love or greed, a spirit of servitude and humility or one of pride and “what’s in it for me?”? Do they see Christ?

Last day of 2012


Today for me marks the end of a very blessed year. When this year started, I was pretty close to rock bottom. I remember staying in the house the whole day, only coming out at night when my sister came home from work. I was bitter, resentment filled and angry. I was scared to leave the house because I felt if I did I wouldn’t come back. I imagined myself jumping in front of the train or just getting on the train and not coming back. I felt trapped and not needed.

Over the last 10 years I’ve experienced emotional strain and extreme darkness where I didn’t know how I was going to get through the day but I wasn’t willing to give up and I always came out of it but 2011 for me was the year I lost all fight…I crumbled…I felt crushed under the weight of my life this far, crushed by yet another failure, loss of loved ones, the loss of a friend. I felt crushed by my inability to get over my past, crushed by my inability to love the ones around me. What mother resents her own? Yet my love for my daughter was still present.

I had lost sight of what was important. I had allowed my problems and insecurities and people’s views to finally matter where they never had. I had allowed fear to reign in me. for grief and anger and resentment to become me. I remember talking to my brother on the phone, laying on the bed, tears flowing, unable to control them. I was unable to hold it all together. I remember him saying “you have a love affair with where you are at.” That was in January 2012. He had been talking to me about crying out to God but I couldn’t do it. I was in pain and yet I wasn’t willing to submit because I was afraid that what lay ahead with God might just be more painful. I felt wounded afresh at the loss of friendship. I remember writing “You healed only to wound again.”

At that point I had tried to get in touch with a counsellor and had failed. I remember talking to my parents and not being completely honest with them but at least the doors of communication had been opened and on my terms, eventually managed to find a counsellor. I remember invading my sister’s room and telling her things I’ve never told anyone else before. I had to be honest with my leaders at church. I remember sitting talking to my counsellor and telling myself I wouldn’t cry and yet breaking down.

I remember living with my brother and his beautiful wife, my elder sis and them challenging me to be better. I remember the birth of their child and the joy it brought…I remember mum coming and the blessing she was  to me. I remember connect group meetings…3 different groups where I was challenged…one controversial but causing me to analyse and re-evaluate where I stand. I remember a friend challenging me, refusing to accept I wasn’t okay, challenging me in my Christian walk. I remember getting to my counsellors house and telling myself many reasons why I should not knock on the door. I remember feeling like I had failed because I couldn’t get my life together on my own. The hardest thing for me to do is depend on people, even my family. I remember deciding to tell people the truth about going for counselling when they asked what I had been up to and it helped me get over the shame of it. I remember crying to God and journaling and praying and laying things bare before Him. I remember advice and hugs from those who have my best interests at heart. Those I kept up late when I needed advice or just a listening ear.

This year I got some of my confidence back. I had allowed life to reduce me to an unsure fear filled person and counselling was where I learnt I was really okay, not consumed by my past and I had to re-learn to be comfortable in me. To own my choices from here. Yes listen to what people have to say but in the end decide on my terms what course my life will take, because in the end, I can never blame anyone else for what I do wrong.

2012 for me was the year I saw a counsellor who helped me deal with some of my issues. I am in no way at the destination of wholeness but I’m on the way. It was the year I saw more transparently my father’s heart. I saw the restoration of a friendship I never thought possible. My nephew was born. My daughter turned 10, like previous years it has been a continuation of my journey. Where I see God’s hand. It was the year He again bent my knee to His will when I was unwilling and unable to within myself. It was the year I saw the most progress in my fight for purity. It was the year I stopped running. The year I attended a leadership course, the year I performed my own written poems live. The year I finally finished medical science. I got to get involved with life changers who are scattered around the world. people I love got engaged and married, babies were born in our family. This  year, my hope was restored.

So why am I telling you all this? Isn’t it funny how you hear Christians talk about going to the doctor for a common cold and demanding antibiotics when there’s no need for them, forgetting that Jesus is the great physician by whose stripes we are healed, and yet the same people will stand and declare that your faith is weak when you see a counsellor for emotional turmoil? We’re all different and while others have no need for counselling, others do. Do whatever it takes to get out. You can never tell whats around the corner. Darkness is relative to light. just because the sun is on the other side of the world doesn’t mean it stopped shining. Just because one door closes doesn’t mean you’re closed in. Sometimes all that’s stopping the light from trickling in is the walls you’ve built. Remember when in a dark room, you can’t see further than a few steps ahead of you and sometimes you can’t even see yourself. But feel around, stumble and even fall, if you take your eyes off the darkness and your predicament, you might just turn a corner and find hope, little rays of sun where there  seemed none, blocked by that one wall. Don’t give up! It’s okay to ask for help. Also never forget, that behind the smiles we see, there might just be more pain than we realise and you might just be what the other person needs to get through. Happy New Year and for those who have walked with me this year, may God bless you. Looking foward to 2013

Feminism is as vice…a lot like other things that end with ism


Women and men are equal. We’ve all heard those sayings meant to empower women, right? “Everything a man can do a woman can do better”, “There’s no difference between men and women.” But is there really a need to fight for equality by burying the differences that men and women have? Why not celebrate the similarities as well as the differences. Rather than aiming to be better than men or be like them, why not aim to be the best woman possible?

You don’t fight for equality by reverse sexism. Create a level playing field where people are appointed to positions because of capabilities and not their sex, but remember still that some capabilities are enhanced by sex because of hormones. For instance, men are stronger than women because of testosterone. Does that make us less equal? No! We have calls for legislation calling for companies to appoint a set number of women to executive jobs. Problem with that is even when a man is more capable, he misses out on a deserved position. If equality is what we want, then we have missed the point. Do we really want to get jobs because of our sex rather than the fact that we are capable?

Men and women are different and whether we like it or not, men do not have the anatomy to carry a baby, nor do they breast feed. And whether we like it or not, men are stronger, physically than women based on the simple fact that testosterone beats oestrogen. Testosterone causes increased muscle mass, which then means more strength. Does that make me less equal to men? No! it just makes me different. Fact is I need maternity leave because yes, being pregnant is hard work! It is life threatening work! But it doesn’t in anyway mean I’m a less valuable entity in the work force.

I wonder which woman or group of women decided that stay at home mums were wasting their talents or that working mums are bad mums. You have women feeling guilty about not staying home with their children wanting to feel superior to those staying home and those staying at home trying to fight for recognition. But in the end, we make our choices differently.

Part of being the best I can be is admitting that I can do a lot but can’t do everything, and I can do a lot better than men but not everything they can do. Just like they can do a lot better than me but they can’t do everything. We need each other, time to put the pitch forks down and work together!

#Vivateamcelebratingwomanhoodandmanhood!

Zahara


one of the best musicians the world has seen

one of the best musicians the world has seen

Zahara; there’s only one word to discribe her voice: WOW! This woman can sing! She’s a South African musician and even though part of this blog is dedicated to teaching people about Zambia, just had to share because I can’t get enough of her. So here’s a video  of her song Ndiza, posted by Rocky12345 on youtube, complete with Lyrics . I do not know how correct the lyrics are as I am not Xhosa nor South African, but from searching online, they seem pretty correct. The same channel has more of her songs with the lyrics so happy listening 🙂

Traits worth having


this is pretty much a celebration of the traits that I think really make me proud to call my mayo (mother) my mum.

1. has an immense respect for elders and people in authority. This for her is not something she forces but more a trait that’s every bit a part of her. Regardless of where she is, she will not dishonour someone elderly,no matter how seemingly deserved it would be. This just had to be at the top because it’s what came to mind first before anything else.

2. My mum is welcoming and caring. Anyone and everyone is welcome in her house. She’s generally a very happy person and I’m sure everyone who knows her will agree with me on that one. In fact right now, instead of going to bed she’s up prepping for tomorrow’s lunch even though the plan was to rise early because she wants to make sure that everyone who walks through those doors will be blessed and as with most Zambian homes, you need no invitation to visit. I remember many years ago, in Chingola, she came home with a girl we all assumed was a relative…we found out later that this young lady just happened to be walking on our small dust road and she didn’tknow where she needed to be so mum took her home and she did find her way home the following day. I also remember children loved my mothers house, growing up, during holidays, our house was a full house…though it can be said that our house was always full house…and experience I will always treasure.

My mum’s a nurse and I’ve seen her work till late if she has to to get her work done.  She feels for the people she’s caring for. When she worked at Nchanga north hospital in Chingola, I remember hearing her say, “If the bathroom is not clean enough for her or her family to use, she’s not going to put her patients in there either “:)

3. Strength: My mum is one of the strongest women I know. She has an internal strength beyond words. Growing up has afforded me the chance to hear about her life and over the years and the struggles we’ve been through, I can definitely say, she is a pillar and is unshakable and I credit that strength to the steel that stills her and keeps the structure standing- JESUS!

4. Loyalty: My mum is a very loyal person. She is loyal to her friends, but more so to her family. For her that means both dad’s side as well as her own. She takes her place in the family seriously and for her even those who are seemingly foolish have a place and a role to play. She wants to excel but wants to take the clan with her. Not leaving others behind. Sometimes her efforts are misused and even trodden on, or possibly misunderstood, but she doesn’t stop because of the dream she has that includes more people than just her or her progeny.

letting go of the invaluable


I have been writing poetry for as far back as I can remember. I’ve used it mostly to process my thoughts and my emotions. Generally I can’t write unless under high emotions. I look over the pieces I’ve written and majority of them have been written under despair…In the moments of my life when I felt lost and had no way of getting out. Some have been in anger and grief, some at a point where I just let go, very few in a state of joy, love or peace.

This year has been sort of a change for me. My writing has been more balanced, less sad; I guess a reflection of my state of mind. I have written so much since July and today have to admit that I think I will never see those writings again. I saw them last a month ago, tucked in between the covers of my notebook that I misplaced together with my bible.  To be honest I’m not really all that bothered about losing my bible, not because it’s not important to me but because the notebook contained my quiet time with God; Notes about what I got from reading my bible. Poems I wrote from gems I found in the bible. Poems about loss, poems about love. I can’t get those back. I can get a new bible, and yes, I will have to get acquainted with it but I can’t get those pieces of writing back…Not happy at all but trying to hold on and hope I will find them is just shaking my walk and because of that I have to finally say goodbye…Time to let go of the idol and get acquainted with a new bible, get a new notebook and get back to writing.