little things affect tiny minds

the beauty of life after death

I'm I eeky or I'm I helpful?

if he keeps clicking away, I will miss my supposed next meal.

it is the small things that matter
the minute details that count
it is the devil in the details that crucifies
and the writing in the finer print that jails
the small stuff
that shouldn't be sweat
the needles in stacks of hay
if they are so important why are the so quickly dismissed
the little things hold so much weight
they must affect more than just tiny minds
or do they?

a moment with wisdom

he boasts a large collection of autobiographies and critiques of the famous African leaders. He just doesn't keep them he reads them and reviews them.

from a different angle

audio and visuals proff loves his jazz

This is his sitting room. Neat huh?

a shell a day, brought to him by grandchildren, neighbors and friends he never throws them away

"these are works on Castro and Cuba, I read a lot of Marx and Lenin at your age"

A religious man who says of himself "I am more of a Quaker than I am a Muslim he then ponders the statement and rephrases it to say I am a Godly man. I owe him my all.

Montage like arrangement of his family

This is an entire house full of manuscripts and reels with speeches of the famous leaders. Three rooms full. 

reflections of a man seeing his end

do you see the book on Timbuktu?

Old china set. He says he keeps it to admire more than to use.

Dedication to Professor Ahmed Mohiddin Mohamed 
This is not a poem but simply excerpts from my conversation with Proff
I am at that point in time where I rarely make an effort to think
I just let the thoughts come and I jot them down in Ink
Most days I sit outside and watch the sun run behind my neighbour’s house and sink
It is faster now that I am leaving
All the while I am admiring my wife
Or scratching my balls
For I have seen my fair share of falls
I have had my thrills
I just wish for the young people to be empowered
To unearth their spirits and to be discovered
To go all out
Do not be fazed by the clout

"My only regret is I never took a photo with Mutunga and Museveni as I had grievances with them at the time I met them."

mwanaume ni..

If love is just a word
then prayers are just recitals
and the bible is simply a book
there is more to life than just watching the days pass
more to faith than just hoping for mountains to move
there is more to forgiveness than I am sorry
and more to repentance than just forgive me my iniquities
In all this what's more is action
it's moving from just saying
just hoping
to doing
mwanaume si effort tu
mwanaume pia ni action

by His grace


But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.

It is by Him that I am
By Him
I was
By Him
I will be
How often I forget that my everything
And His nothing to me is EVERYTHING
I am but a vessel
And shaped
By Him
And his grace
His grace is sufficient
If He is not then I cease to be
So if I be me, just me
Then I am not
For I will incredibly be
You be, I will follow thee
Better yet you be in me
That way you will guide my paths


Desire vs Imagination: I'm I foolish to keep on hoping?

“When your desires and your imagination are in conflict, your imagination always wins the battle.”  Emile Coue

I longed to find the one
just one
I longed to sit and share moments of what I was 
of what I would become
I longed to have another by my side
that was my desire
then I found one
the one
I thought she had another
and another
for I never felt like I mattered enough to her
for her
I was always looking to see her part
that was my imagination
I sat alone again
and hoped that she would take my plea
my begging my requests
I changed my imagination
centered on my desires
it was late too late
it started with no we cannot keep this up
it ended in "never! This can NEVER be"
and now the imagination won
I have to content with this state
at least until I know my fate
I longed to find the one
and even when I had her within my reach 
I let my imagination win 
but my desires still burn me inside
they nudge me
they prod me 
this desires have a mind of their own
tell me I'm I a fool to keep on hoping?

what is it about children?

what about a child draws us to them
is it their inquisitiveness?
their humility?
is it their innocence?
their submissiveness
I gave no Idea
I just know children make the best subjects of photography
their emotions are raw and real
they barely have enough time to fake a smile
when they are happy they are happy
when they are sad they are sad
what baffles me most about them is their ability to find inner peace
they can sleep right in the middle of a hurricane