Sunday, December 31, 2017


People tell me I am funny and interesting. Flatterers. They clearly have not met my brother.

He relates well with all kinds of people: old and young, rich and poor.

We understand one another. It enables us to discuss issues in great depth.

We do not always agree though.

I could try to write about him here. I have mentioned him elsewhere.

But you should just meet him yourself to find out.

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Brethren and Sistren

I am a marginal member of one youth choir in church. Marginal status therein is due to my slackness in attending practices and consequent knowledge of only very few songs in full.

I love this group. Though I have made few friends (substantially) over two years, all my contacts with this mixed group revive my faith in humanity. They are generous, interesting, intelligent, funny, humble achievers, excellent singers.

Though I tire quickly of relationship talk, which is rampant amongst us, I understand that this is the time and setting for just such talk. Out there in the world the pickings are too precarious a lottery. Marriage is high stakes, everything is on the line. (Serious face)

The tendency has been for members to "graduate" upon marriage, leaving the youth choir, whether to the main church choir (highly recommended) or to settled marital bliss.

I always feel bad about my inability to attend practices regularly. This blog would be the ideal platform to pledge undying loyalty going forward, but I am learning to make no promises I can't keep. Sometimes being a man of your word means avoiding words you will not be a man of.

Stick around though. You will be hearing about our exploits.

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

They sang my name beautifully

Did they not lustily sing my name, a bevy of beauties arrayed beyond the distant touchline, after I had dashed speedily upon a loose ball, kicking it furiously towards goal, whereupon it flew at and thrashed hotly against the befuddled goalkeeper, and spent what wrath remained from my kick upon the inside of the upright, before rolling to a stop inside the goalpost?

At which sight I did exult mid-flight; still running I pumped my fists victorious, interminable waves of spontaneous laughter erupted from within as teammates closed in on me, we all bouncing up and down like gazelles, our very souls enthralled in celebratory ecstasy as high fives slapped left and right. Sustained bursts of cheering rent the air.

The buoyant uproar died down only very reluctantly under the referee's strident whistle-blowing, and lastly for the sake of the game's resumption the sound of jubilation eventually faded away amidst enduring palpable joy, only to leave the hot afternoon air quiet enough at last for the sultry sopranos of sensuous singing sirens to be heard:

"Tunaye Tony, aaa Tony,
Tunaye Tony, hamtamweza!"

My myopic eyes directed a futile gaze at the distant blur from which the melody emanated, a smile again stretched my lips; laughter again parted said lips as the song was incessantly repeated, striking a harmonious note with my racing heartbeat that pounded away with pride.