… they come in different shapes and sizes, and they do, literally and figuratively! Some are tall, some are short, and others are somewhere in between. Some are much older, some much younger, others just about my age. Some are bossy, overbearing and prescriptive, others are gentle, withdrawing and retracting. Some are generous and very giving, others don’t give as much. Some are so sensitive, being with them is like walking on eggshells others have elephant skin, nothing sticks, and everything washes off. Some waffle on and I haven’t got a clue what planet they are on, I can’t make head or tail what they are saying, sometimes I wonder what they have been sniffing. Others are wise and speak with such wisdom, depth and maturity. Some friends check in on me regularly, others can never find my number, something is always wrong with their phone, it’s always crashing and looking at numbers, or data or whatever, there is always a long tale.

Some friends sneak in on me, others will only come if they can make a grand entrance. Some I have known for a long, others I recently met. Some always have a story to tell about what happened in some very long distant past. I could hardly remember any of those stories, I sense that the stories are embellished and possibly bits added to make them more colourful. Other friends are not storytellers, however, their countenance tells it all. I fight with some of my friends, I hate to admit it, but we always kiss and makeup. My friends don’t keep grudges, they always forgive.

My friends can be weird at times, I must admit, but I guess birds of like feathers flock together, I also have my moments. Some friends promise to move a mountain but you will be lucky if they move a pebble. Some friends promise nothing, yet they deliver plenty, going beyond the call over duty. Some friends have the sternest looking face but the warmest heart. Others have smiley faces but tough and unyielding hearts.

But all in all, my friends are beautiful, lovely and loving. My friends always come through for me and when the moment arises, my friends always (I mean always) rise to the occasion. My friends are always there for me, they are like a hunch on my back. They truly have my back.

Thank you for being my friend, thank you for being there for me, and thank you for loving me. I love you!

.. a tree was planted when I was born. It didn’t look like much of a tree, I must admit. There was nothing tree-like about it, it was just a seed in the ground. I couldn’t see it anyway, so it made no difference to me, as far as I was concerned there was nothing there. Even if I could see it, I didn’t care much for those kinds of things, I just wanted to eat, sleep, cry and be carried.

My tree grew, broke forth out of the ground and became a tiny plant, it still didn’t look like a tree, but at least I could see something and it looked like it was becoming. I grew as well and became a tiny bit less self-centred, I could at least reward my overworked carers with some smiles in between my endless demands. I could also make strange sounds but most importantly I could play! I played with my little plant, touched it gently, and cooed at it, but I got bored easily as I was not allowed to smash it around or put it in my mouth.

My tree became a sapling and I became whatever it was I became. I still couldn’t rough handle my tree but I was more aware of its presence. It is my tree and it is always there! I look at it and I talk to it. I think I like my tree.

My tree is growing some more, and there are some ‘things’ hanging off its branches. The ‘things’ got bigger and bigger and … then one day I was told those ‘things’ are fruits, they are ripe now. I can pluck and eat them. The fruit from my tree was sweet, juicy and succulent. I was delighted. I love my tree.

My tree is older, stronger and sturdier, I can climb up and sit on the branches which can now take my weight. My Dad made me a treehouse and I have so many wonderful memories of fun in the treehouse.

I left home and went to college but I always look forward to going home, amongst other things I knew my tree would always be there. As I do the washing up and look out of the window, there is my tree smiling back at me.

My tree is growing gracefully and beautifully. It provides the most amazing shade. From time to time when I am home, I get my blanket, a nice pillow, a good book and something delicious to drink and you will find me under my tree, in my little heaven, sipping my drink, reading my book, just having the time of my life.

My tree is taller and older, with some strong, long and straight branches. I have a hammock on my tree and what moments I have enjoyed! rocking gently as I observe nature and reflect on life!

But today, my tree is old and unwell. My tree has to come down. My tree came down! I am doing the washing up and I looked out of the window but there is nothing to see. I took my blanket, pillow, book and drink out, but there is no shade to lie under. My hammock is sitting all curled up sadly on the ground. I felt lost!

I picked up my hammock, stared up and looked to heaven. “What am I to do?” I ask, “there are other trees” the voice came back. “Other trees!” I exclaimed. “But another tree(s) is/are not my tree, I do not know the other tree and the other tree does not know me, there is no connection, no history, yes no history between us. The other tree is ‘strange’. How can I lie under a ‘strange’ tree and tie my Hammock to a ‘strange’ branch?” I ask.

The voice came back again and said, “maybe I can plant a new tree” “plant a new tree!” I exclaimed again. “I am 50, yes 50! Who plants a new tree at 50?” I pondered. Moreover, I will be a 100 before the new tree reaches the same stage as my old tree. My tree was seasoned!

With my blanket, pillow and book under one arm and hammock under the other arm, I walked slowly indoors as I ponder my choices.

Maybe, just maybe I should give up on trees and stay indoors, I thought. “No one must ever give up on trees!” the voice came back to me.

.. I have to be strong, when I can’t even spell the word, I don’t understand the word, I don’t know what it means, or maybe I do, maybe I do! I just don’t feel it, I don’t know where to start. And why should I anyway? Why should I be strong? Why should I be brave? Why should I step out in faith? Why should I believe? Why should I keep going on? Why should I give life my best shot? Why should I stand tall? Why shouldn’t I just drop and crumble? Why? Why? Why?

Because she believed in me because she knew I could become because she saw that I am strong when I did not see it. Because she told me I could do it, not once, not twice but a few times. Because she took my hand, gripped it firmly and placed the Baton squarely in my hand and she screamed: “run”. Because she mustered all the strength in her and she waited for me and she composed herself and she delivered her most important message, she said “you can become” so I must be strong. I must learn how to spell.

I am strong!

… the roar of lion is no longer to be heard. An eerie silence has come upon the forest. How one animal’s voice can boom through the forest and vibrate the entire space is unknown. Lion trumps the place, his presence was felt in every nook and corner of the forest. The forest can never be the same, no other animal fills the air in the same way. No other animal walks the forest in the same manner, no other animal has such a commanding presence. Things are no longer the same. The air is now boringly lighter, the ground is uninterestingly steadier. The water pool is peaceful, orderly and uneventful. Nothing to excite the mind. Nothing to trouble the serenity of the forest and mind. The forest holds still.

There is enough food now, no more squabbles, but the food is bland and unappetizing, there is no chase for it. No fight to season it. Lion is gone and the forest is a little less colourful. The fearful and terrifying one is no more and the animals are confused.

Where is the big laughter? Where is the tumbling and rolling over belly laughter? The jokes are no longer funny, the soul of the forest is gone. The loud voice is gone.

How can a forest be without lion? What kind of forest will that be? Lion left his indelible mark on the grounds of the forest. Who can take the place of lion? Who will replace him? Who will wear the shoes? No one I guess, there is only one lion and there will only be one lion. None can wear the shoes. No one can be lion.

We take courage for we knew Lion enjoyed forest life with his friends. Lion’s friend, lioness is lonesome, she is lost, her partner is gone, her companion is gone, and the forest is quiet. None to commune with.

The animals go round in circles, like one without a compass. Lion is gone, the roar that demands to be addressed is silenced. The forest is calm like still waters, waiting for the next wave of roarers.

The forest needs its roar, lion is gone, and the forest is quiet. Roar! Screams the forest.

… I don’t like my bed, it’s not comfortable, I have not been able to fully rest for 25 years. I know that sounds far fetched, but it is the truth, or at least it is the way I see it and feel it.

“What is wrong with the bed?” You ask. Well, it gives me aches and pains, physical pains that are related and other pains that do not seem related. I have neck pain, shoulder pain, back pain, oh back pain! That is bad. I get indigestion and gout. I also attribute my toothache to the bed. “How is that related you ask?” Well, due to my discomfort in bed, I always get out of bed and comfort eat at the wrong time of the night, you know what? I will eat sweets, biscuits, chocolate etc and I just will be too tired to brush my teeth.

The bed gives me bad dreams, nightmares and daymares if you like. I wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I don’t think the bed is good for me. It might work for someone else. My friends and family (with only a few exceptions) think that I should keep the bed and manage it. They reckon that if I have had it for 25 years, it can’t be that bad. Moreover, nobody’s bed is perfect. They tell me. They tell me that ‘as you make your bed you lie on it’. They think I should go on the bed laying course and that it is possible that I don’t know how to put the bed together, they think my ailments are psychosomatic or self-inflicted and there is nothing wrong with the bed. “Why in God’s name would you get rid of a bed you’ve had for 25 years?” They ask. The bed does look reasonably good, I must admit, however, I just can’t rest on this bed I try to explain. “You’ve endured it for so long” they add “and you might as well see it through”. I don’t think so, I am telling them, my body needs rest, my muscles and bones are not the same anymore, I am not as young as I use to be, I can no longer tolerate what I use to tolerate, the body is different, the mind needs to settle. Some have even suggested changing the mattress, but it is more than the mattress, the whole bed does not work. “How come you ended up with such a bed?” I was asked. “I never tried it before buying” “You never what?” “Yes, I never did, it looked good and I didn’t know you are meant to try a bed before buying, I felt all beds guaranteed a good night’s sleep now and into the foreseeable future.

Fortuitously, I found myself in a one shop bed shop. Don’t ask how, but here I am in the bed shop. I got talking with the shopkeeper and he has offered me the supposedly perfect bed. He said he could tell by my posture what I had suffered in my current bed and what I need to correct all the pains I have been through and to have rested sleep for the rest of my life. I must admit the shopkeeper is giving a good talk, I couldn’t flaw him on the spin. I am however wary of spin, talk is cheap as they say. I asked if I could try out the bed in the store, and he willingly agreed, I tried the bed, and it felt good! I went one further and asked if I could take the bed home to try it and surprisingly he agreed I could try it out for 17 days (a weird number of days I must admit) and return it if I don’t like it. I am a few days into my 17 days trial and all is going well, I am rested and stabilised. I still have my old bed by the way. I have been wondering “Is 17 days sufficient to determine if a bed is right or not?” “Will some latent issues develop later?”

I guess it is my call, I have to step out in faith and make my decision. The fact remains that as I lay my bed I will lie on it.

… I saw death and I couldn’t stay, I didn’t like the look of him. He came badly attired, at least in my opinion. I did not like what I saw.

Death was with my beloved, he looked ugly, I did not like him. I wanted him to go. My beloved was not ugly, but death looked ugly, the descent of the human flesh looked ugly, and the perishing of the human flesh was not pleasant to look at.

Death stood so close and held on so tight, I did not like him, I couldn’t stay, death looked ugly. My beloved asked me to stay but I couldn’t as I did not like the look of death.

My beloved didn’t like death either, she was so fearful, I didn’t know why, but she was so fearful. Death had been around her for quite some time and it was an unwelcome visitor, I didn’t get the sense she wanted to go, but she didn’t seem to have a choice. I guess she gave in eventually.

The dead and dying are beckoning but I am not responding, I am alive and I do not want to be with the dead ones. The dead and dying are calling but I do not want to be with them.

Why do they have to leave with so much pain and agitation? Why does the departure have to be so turbulent? It is not my time so I can not sit with death. I did not like the look of death.

Death attached itself to my sister and would not let go. It ravaged her body, but could not touch her mind or her spirit. It got hold of her flesh and we could all do nothing. Death got hold of her. I did not like death.

The devil came to kill, steal and destroy. The devil came. Did I see the devil at work? Did I see sin at work? I have been left with deep questions to answer, and difficult puzzles to solve.

The angel of death came. Where did he take her? But she looked so peaceful. The body he fought was left alone. The body was at rest, at peace, no more fighting, yelling, agitating. Her body is resting in peace, I pray her soul is resting as well.

… I have no other choice, no other goal, no other aim, so I will do well!

Life has knocked and hit me hard, life has rocked me and snatched my support but I will do well.

I will rise, though I wobble I will rise. Still, I struggle I will rise, I will not go under, I will not lose hope, I will not be despondent. I will do well.

Life has handed me an unbearable task, life has handed me a baton I do not want, but I will run and I will do well.

Life took the wind out of my sail, rocked my boat vigorously, slapped me at the back of my head, the life squeezed me, crushed me, it smashed me, knocked me over, poured me out and ran over me, but I will arise and I will do well.

I will find the truth, I will know the truth, I will live the truth, I will live free, I will do well.

I will take the task handed to me, all of it, I will take, I will dig deep, I will find the strength, I will do the job, I will finish my tasks, I will occupy my role, I will fill my position, I will not shrink, I will not puff, I will stand my sacred ground, I will do well.

Life took my Sister, life took my heart, life took my friend, life took my confidante, life took my joy, life took my partner in crime, life took my special one, life took my love, but she is with me, I will not lose heart, I will do well.

I will find my faith, I will calm all fears, I will find my God, I will commune with my God, I will resolve my conflicts, I am at peace, I will do well.

Life is good! Reagan told me, there is a wonderful world out there for me, it belongs to me, it is exciting, stimulating and rewarding, I will not cheat myself of this world. I will find it and live it, I will do well.

I have a gift, it is a special gift, it is up to me whether I use it or not, it is up to me what I do with it, it is up to me, it is truly up to me. I will use it, I will use it, I will use it fully, I will do well.

I did well!

… I had been planning this for quite some time, all the fine details have been twirling around in my head, I put pen to paper and offloaded the idea, I shared it with my friends and they were all for it. I wanted to have my own fun private fashion show! They were all for it, I honestly couldn’t believe my ears. You see I am so proud of my wardrobe, I had painstakingly chosen every single item of clothing over the years and I feel I have done a brilliant job even if I say so myself. I was so looking forward to my little show, my very own catwalk! So I went to my local carpet shop, luck was on my side and they had an offcut stripe of a red carpet, perfect for my intentions. I took it home, set up my little front room, and got all my friends to cram in. Everything was going good. The show was about to start, as I was putting my first outfit on I began to recall my expectations of how I see the evening go. As I walk in, my friends’ jaws drop, unable to contain themselves they stand up and burst out into spontaneous applause and turn round commenting to each “We didn’t know she had such great fashion sense”. Feeling extra confident I stepped into the front room, strutting my stuff and beaming from ear to ear. But I noticed not a single jaw dropped, there is no applause and nobody was looking around to comment about my impeccable fashion sense. If I could read faces well, it seemed like they were disappointed and possibly underwhelmed by my first outfit. I dragged myself backstage (my bedroom) to try on the next outfit, I sure was disappointed but encouraged myself. Styling is quite a personal thing and not everything is everyone’s cup of tea Moreover the fact that they didn’t get the first outfit is neither here nor there. I tried to convince myself. There are still more outfits to showcase and there was no need for me to be downcast. Moreover, the next one is a showstopper, the only way to not like the next outfit is if you are blind and even then I thought a blind person would feel the energy of it, whichever way I believed the next one was a winner, so I psyched myself up, lifted my chin, squared my shoulders and strutted my stuff again. The second outfit did not fare any better, if anything I felt it did worse, a few were yawning, and a couple stood up to ease themselves. As I was leaving my self made runway, I turned back and looked at my audience and for the first time I noticed the way they were dressed, the way they were styled, it seemed uniform, almost as if a memo had gone round, to me it was boring, lack energy and class, not my style at all but I needed applause so badly, I wanted my validation, I had put so much into this. In my mind, the evening ended with all my friends gushing about how great I was. So I quickly rearranged things with some difficulty at the back (bedroom). I fished through the bag packed to go to the charity shop and I found a few impulsive buys that I had sworn would never touch my body, it resembled how my audience was attired. I came out hating every bit of what I was wearing but looking very much as they wanted me to. They couldn’t help themselves, the jaws dropped, the applause came, the smiles broke forth, the phone cameras were out, I got my validation after all but what a price I had to pay!

As my guests finished their canapes, said their goodbyes and left. I crashed into my swing armchair and reflected on the evening. I got what I wanted, applause, validation, likes, smiles, pat on the back, but was it worth it? I asked. No! That wasn’t me, that wasn’t my style that was applauded, that was them! They didn’t like my style, they didn’t like my wardrobe. My friends were not into my style. I had a decision to make going forward, ‘do I do me?’ Or do I please my friends, given I required validation?

I thought long and hard and I decided to do me, be myself, dress my way, my friends still did not like my wardrobe, however, surprisingly I met new people, new friends and even some strangers that were truly bowled over by how I put myself together. Yes, my friends did not like my wardrobe.

” … keep going”! They urge you on. “You can” they encourage, they mean well, very well indeed. The trouble is they can’t see the gauge, none of them can see it. The power bank indicator is hidden from them. The fuel level indicator is

not on their radar. They can’t even read the monitor, they don’t know what it is saying or used for. To be honest with you, they don’t even know you are meant to carry out checks. They are doers, motivators, pushers, enablers etc and boy we sure do need them. But they don’t know when to stop, to have a break, to refuel, to recharge, to take a back seat, to regroup, to have a recess, they have no concept of that whatsoever.

But you have the gauge, you can see the power bank-level, you know how to check the air in the tyre, you know what the pressure is. And you know what? you are flat! As flat as pancake, the vehicle is going nowhere, absolutely nowhere, the wheels can’t move. You are to the rim. There is no charge on the phone, you can’t make a single call, you can’t finish the chat, the text, whatever it is you were doing. You are in the middle of nowhere, it is not safe to stop, it is dangerous, but you are down to the rim. You are out of gasoline, not a drop left, the reserve is depleted.

“How could I have lost power so fast, I just recharged”? Where is all my credit? where did all my battery power go? You asked. “The wheels are new” you maintained. You are confused and puzzled. The answer is simple. You drove so fast and hard, you downloaded humongous files, the workout was gruelling and intense, all the calories have been burnt, it’s all gone. There is only one way to do it, the only way, no other way, stop! Eat! Replenish! The news was hard, it hit you like a sledgehammer. You were full to overflowing a minute ago. Your joy knew no bound. It makes no difference, you are depleted now.

Find your plug without any hesitation, find your power source, plug yourself right in and stay there until you are fully charged. You must recharge fast and not be tempted to unplug at the first sight of juice (power) flowing through. Stay plugged in, you are not done yet. The journey is long and hard, the download memory required is large, the battery power needed is heavy, and only a full fuel tank will do the job, don’t leave the pump until you are done, don’t stop the air until the tyres are fully pressurised.

There is no other way, my friend, there is a world out there waiting to be conquered, a journey to be made, a race to be won, business to be finished, but you must stop now and recharge fast. Do it! Find your power source, plug yourself in and be restored.

… what a beautiful and kind one he was! He looked mad, his body had failed him, his appetite had crucified him. It was hard to look at him at times. But his mind never failed him, his mind stood by him as tight as a brother. It was in an impeccable state. Do not discount him because of his physical appearance, no don’t! If you do, it is at your loss. I have yet to meet such a wise one, discernment was effortless, insight was beyond his age and time, and prophecies were God-given and precise.

He was a fighter, a loner, the lone wolf in the wildness that came before his time. He seems not to belong to this world, but he gave life his best shot. He was misunderstood but his heart was always pure. He meant no man any harm. He fought the best way he knew how and sometimes it was hard to watch, but he fought, he never for once gave up the fight. To the very end, he fought.”This is not my portion” he said in the face of the most difficult ordeal.

What a lover you were, you loved lavishly and selflessly. You did nothing in halves. You went at it with the force of nature. Those that experience your love is truly blessed. You loved with the purity and sincerity of a child. What an honour to have been loved by you.

You suffered no fool gladly, God helps stupidity that crosses your path. You had no time for goats and as you say. “Goats no fit swim” or “yam no fit swim”. You tolerated no-nonsense, however, it was not from a superior place, it was the frustration of not being able to rub minds, of not finding the depth to call unto.

You had a sense of humour that was legendary, I still crack up when I recall our last moments. You observe life and the world and could not help being amused at the folly that sometimes surrounds you and yes we had a good laugh about it all.

Have I mentioned your intelligence? Can I even go there? Genius! That is who you were. Why would a genius choose to abode amongst mere mortals? A question I have never been able to answer. You knew so much, you read so much, you researched so much, you were head and shoulders above all. Privileged to have met and known you, I am.

Sleep well, my beautiful prophet!