CJ Naggita

Image Source The silence between us was loud, I could hear the silent whisper of the wind  I heard the nail that dropped on the floor, by the concrete pathway, I heard the quiescent rustling of the palm leaves as they waved to us, Maybe they were joining my heart to extol him for his braveness... Somehow, I realized that the air I breathed seemed completely unusual, The ground on which I stood seemed too soft, And I thought it would swallow me up and be my hiding place for the moment. I thought I hadn't heard, Or had I heard it wrong...? Or......., no.... But I did; I heard it all just right, Fat drops of tears slowly slithered down my happy cheeks, I felt my stomach moving and jumping and flying about, He just told me! He just said he likes me! Okay...This is exactly what he said, " I love you." Those tears that fell couldn't let me know why they did, And neither could I tell why I let them fall. -Crystal April

Image Source Am stretching out my hand, trying to reach out to yours, As you gracefully run along the noisy, night-lit street, With that shining weapon of a smile on your beautiful face, I stare at you with such an adoration and love, won't you come and hug me? I get lost in dreamy imagination of the angelic being that you are With the momentous rhythm from the trotting of your high heels As you gorgeously cat-walk across the busy lane. Looking so glamorous as the evening breezy wind heaves up your beautiful hair Yet, with such brutality, a black, shiny machine suddenly crashes you down, So finely that I can no longer trace you at all! Please come and hug me. Looking so lonely and lifeless now, as you tuck yourself away inside that hard rectangular box, And thus, in just a single breath, you're becoming part of the earth, Now it's only memories of you that remain floating in my mind. Tears drop down my cheeks, For I'm missing you deeply now, Why di...

Thanks to Ruganzu Bruno from ECO ART Uganda With the hooting of the evening rush-hour traffic, as the cars, matatus and trucks continuously rub their wearing black tyres over the dusty old tarmac. Somehow my eyes get stuck on this black, noisy old sport-car rolling by, making me wish that I had a car for myself, even though where I am in my current state, I'm not complaining. Just across the road, next to a roadside vendor selling second-hand undergarments, "Ptssssssss..." goes the occasional sizzle as the freshly-beaten eggs slowly slide out of the rolex guy's plastic blue bowl, right onto the heating oiled frying pan as the rolex guy continuously fans the blazing charcoal stove with a piece of paper tightly held in his other hand. Immediately, the unmissable, mouthwatering aroma of frying eggs escapes passed my raring nostrils and spreads out into the homely evening breeze. Then I find myself staring up at the hanging billboards, all displaying different m...

Image from: https://bit.ly/2zYWmCy Oftentimes we find ourselves in a rush to make something happen, to hit our targets. Subconsciously, we even get into competition in a bid to be like or perhaps even better than other people who have been able to accomplish what we presumably consider to be significant. This is usually because we tend to think we are out of time and cannot help being over-haunted by this mindset of "If someone else can do it now, it means that I also can!" Now, please don't misunderstand me here; this mindset is 100 percent good to possess, and I totally agree to it as well. But then there is something called "season". You find that the word itself is often mainly used by people who live or work in a periodic kind of environment, such as farmers, expectant mothers, those who own seasonal businesses, and the like. Such people, for example farmers, will frankly tell you that not every time is harvesting time, and definitely not every time...

Image Source: https://bit.ly/2Vzc3bb She, she is called woman; scraped and molded from the rib of man; Tenderness bleeds from the femininity of her hands, her touch, her eyes, her voice, her entire being; She’s the apple of the world’s eye; though her beauty tends to be wild, like that of a rose: In that if you mishandle her, you get to taste the sharp pierces of her womanliness. She carries the letter ‘w’ right from womanhood , And later on to wife , on the day she affirms to a love-union with her husband, Not to mention when tragedy strikes, and it further crowns her as widow . She, she is the eve that knows what a serpent really looks and talks like, And how its deceitful voice can perfectly whisper disobedience into the ears, Yet with a similar, albeit more tender voice, she calls her rib-donor to share in the fall of temptation. She is the scheming Delilah, whose persistence grants her entry into her treacherous desires, As she persuades her way into the...

Image from  GettyImages The strength of any building lies in its foundation. Engineers and construction experts recommend that for a foundation to be strong enough to hold the building, it must be tough enough to withstand ‘dead’ and ‘live’ loads. In construction language, dead load refers to the weight of the structure itself while live load is the external weight from people and objects external to the basic structure. Even more interesting, every building’s foundation is customized to suit ground and region in which the construction is being done for durability. Such is a relationship. The strength of a relationship lies on that upon which its strength is premised. Love, patience, understanding, care and trust to a relationship are like the strength to hold dead load. It gets tiring, mundane and straining to keep up with all the troubles that come with understanding your partner, forgiving their mistakes, compromising and understanding their perspective. Love, patie...