Shetani Alishindwa

Have I ever told you guys what a religious, educated and hardworking Mother I have? And in this case we're talking Philosophic-educated? The woman holds a Master's Degree in Linguistics y'all. She's a walking Webster. A school principal and a part-time lecturer. 

So anyway, last week Mum called at around seven a.m. and after I said amid laughter that she sounded like Dad, she had to explain that she had caught the most explosive, awful flu infection that has ever been suffered by a human person at any time in the history of the world. And since I was at work early, she asked that I do a little research on some historical-comparative lecture thingy she had at 10.a.m.

So there I was, sitting at my desk, intellectually getting deep insight into the history of Language in West Africa and waiting for Mum to get to the cyber and hand over the phone to the techie who was to print the jargon for her. Then my phone rang. And I saw it was Mum, so I answered. It was a man's voice. And I asked that he spell out his email address. Instead, said man, said that Mum had been involved in a car accident. And hang up.

I was immediately, have-to-stand-from-chair panicked and who calls with such terrible news and scanty information? My head was now filled with images of Mum sneezing and the windscreen blowing out with the gale force of her projection, and shocking the driver off the road.

So I redialed but before I could figure out just how, exactly, snot forces you to wreck a vehicle, Mum answered and this is what occurred:

Mum: Eloo

Self: Mum! Are you okay?

Mum: [Sniff] I wad id ad assidend!

Self: I know! Are you okay?

Mum: I tink so. I wad ID AD ASSIDEND.

Self: I'm sorry Mum! Are you hurt?

Mum: Wiar guing do hospido.

Self: Oh my God Mum, give the driver the phone!

Driver: Hel--?

Self: What happened? Is mum okay? To which hospital are you going? Have you called Dad?

Driver: Not yet, you were the last dialed number. The driver of the Taxi she was in lost control of the vehicle and it rolled. Now we ar--

Self: Whaat?--I--Oh My God! Whaat?--Where are you now? I'm calling you back.

(Slowly sitting down, Misty Eyes, Shaky hands, Dialing)

Self: DAAD! MUM HAS BEEN INVOLVED IN AN ACCIDENT!

Dad: Yes, I'm almost there, who called you?

Self: You know? Who called you?

Dad: She's going to be Okay Kawee. Let me call you when I get there.

Self: DAA--

Dad: (Dial tone)

And he hang up. Tears immediately started flowing and I walked up to my boss all monster-red-eyed and uninvited, sat down. Then got utterly shocked that I lost all ability to speak. Seriously, I couldn't utter the words to say that Mum was involved in an accident. So I twisted my neck to one side and wrote him a note on some colored sticky note. To which he asked if I had someone to drive me home. I nodded and he said he'd call later.

I then absentmindedly walked to the basement unsure of where or what I was supposed to do next. So I called DK and my brothers who, through the Science of Information Transmission already knew and were calmly waiting for my call. Apparently Dad had been called by an eyewitness and he called everyone else but me.

Mum went into shock for about four hours. Thankfully, she had not a single scratch. 

Here's a picture of the wrecked car.

Shetani alishindwa.

Seven Days

Lucy, one of my friends, (you might remember her from this post) last week dared me to take a seven days Bible Challenge. To post Bible verses every day on my Facebook page and tag two friends on each. 

I did. 

Rather, tried. 

I posted on the first day but given the logic of "time" in my world, which has been a wee bit busy lately, what with the going back to work and the Insuring people and the Wifeing Things and the not sleeping and the removing of things in gift boxes, and the breaking of the laundry tap and the cursing of an entire generation of laundry tap manufacturers, because y'all, water everywhere, and then the subsequent excitement upon having to purchase new knitting needles,...cold weather scarf? I can do that?, I couldn't post verses the next six days. And I am embarrassed to report that it took me 10days before I remembered that: oh. I have a website. And, duh., I'll just post the verses I love on my blog and that way, I'll have killed seven days in one post. (see what I did there?)

So here we go, and in no particular order, my favorite Bible Verses. Please note that I used favorite not memory. The part of head that is supposed to hold memory verses has since inhabited Insurance Jargon and the only verses I still remember are probably from my Sunday School days. Like John 3:16, for example.

Ephesians 6:3 “If you honor your father and mother, things will go well for you, and you will have a long life on the earth.”

Remember how our parents introduced their friends to us when we were ten years and below? Her friend from College, Gillian, was Auntie. And not 'Auntie Gillian' like kids nowadays call us. It was an abomination to say a grownup's name and anyone in the capacity of your father and mother was Auntie and Uncle. What? No, no explanations were given. Or expected. RESPECT.

Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you, Says the Lord.  They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”

This verse has been read in my presence roughly eleventy thousand times now. Especially when we neared sitting for national examinations in Primary and High School, remember? Those 'trying' times when everyone spoke in tongues? Yeah well, it worked and it still does. I strongly believe that all the achievements I have had so far are mystery clues to the greater plan He has for me.

Lamentations 3:23 “Great is His faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.”

Indeed. Even after an impossibly horrible day at work, and an envisioned worse one, I will wake up the following day with a glow because, His mercies begin afresh every morning.

Proverbs 21:5 “Good planning and hard work leads to prosperity, but hasty shortcuts lead to poverty.”

Planning. Persistence. Patience. Professional virtues that should be gained after attending those huge classroom halls of school and life which I presume are educational, and are not primer courses for building your own Instagram account, where fourteen-olds the world over can give themselves such clever screen names as "sexxxy1995". 

Oh, look; I'm old again. Keeps happening.

1 Corinthians 7:2 But because of the temptation to sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband.

DK has this...I guess we can call it a "belief" about things facing certain directions. Like, for example, he will park the car ready to go. I on the other hand, Oh hi Popo! breeeak, parking gear, handbrake and I am out already giving generous hugs. So this belief goes as far as getting into bed. Yes, people, there is a right and wrong way to get into bed. And if you don't know how, my husband will gladly show you. Because he subconsciously pulls back the duvet cover chatting, first sits on the edge of the bed then lifts his legs to enter the said bed. He then argues that I walk into bed. This way, his pair of slip-on is facing the door while mine is,...somewhere almost under the bed.


So how is this a problem? 




The problem now comes in because I wake up earlier than DK and because I am awesomely created with a multiple of them, common sense will persuade me to wear the pair of slip-on that is facing the way I am going. You would also do that, right? So when DK wakes up, well let's just say he scratches his head so hard he's almost bald now. Two months into the marriage.

Proverbs 21:13, Whoever closes his ear to the cry of the poor will himself call out and not be answered. 

This is the reason I do works such as these. Just in case you were wondering. I believe that this is the best verse to be written, which is just the coolest thing to be made out of words since...something else awesome, and word-y. That was invented before. Like blogs, for example.

And because mine will soon be getting palpitations, let us park this holy ride for a minute. Let us have story break. We will travel back in time to when I was five, and was attending Pre-Class-One-School. On that particular day, my mother wasn't home (possibly she was...giving birth to my brother, now that I think about it. Or recovering from that. Something along those lines), and somehow, my father was left with the responsibility of feeding and caring for a very squirmy and whiny me, who did not like Ugali, and who did not eat carrots in any food, and who argued to the point of hysteria that mom always lets me eat white rice mixed with warm milk ONLY, Dad, every day, GOD.

Now, the point of this story is not that I was a lying toddler. Or that my father ultimately allowed me to attend school in a Sunday School dress those few days. Instead, the point is that, had my father been in the possession of a computer, internet and these at the time, then maybe there would have been a lot less compromising to be done. That's pretty much what I'm driving at, there. Memories are precious!

1 Peter 3:10 “For the Scriptures say, If you want to enjoy life and see many happy days, keep your tongue from speaking evil and your lips from telling lies.”

Yeah. I probably should have eaten those carrots.

Blog Note: Today is our second month wedding anniversary! 
EEEEEEEEEE!!!!