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Showing posts from 2020

Recovery Path to Self

I have not loved myself as I should, because I have loved others more than I love myself. I have not valued my feelings, but have dismissed them. I have not paid attention to my needs, and have put others needs before mine. I have not trusted my opinions, and been sceptical of my decisions, listening to the voices of others. I have been too hard on myself, and too easy for others. I have minimised myself and accommodated others. Have given up my hopes and dreams. And settled. I have been misunderstood. I have been blamed. I have been shamed. And I have been abused. I have been abused, used, lied to and manipulated. I have lost more than I care to count. But I have deposited a bank of experience and knowledge. And through it all, gained intangibly more. For many years I confusedly did the same thing over and over again, with no stoppage of abuse, sinking deeper into uncertainty, despair, disorder, anger and near depression. For many years I focused on u...

The gates of hell shall not prevail in Kenya

image from  https://kingdom777.wordpress.com/ The realm of the devil, the contender, the accuser has established itself on this nation. But he and his minions will not prevail. Because you and I have access to the key. Prophesied by Isaiah [22:22, NIV] – I will place on his shoulder the key to the house of David; what he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. Fulfilled in Matthew [16:18-19] – And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Though hades – hell – toil and wage an onslaught on you and I, try and hold us hostage within its gates [place of transaction, decision making, announcements and judgement], we hold the key, because we belong to Christ. And hell knows this. Hell is on the back foot, on the defence...

Kenya's colonial demonic mantle

image from shutterstock Covid-19 came. And with it the decision to curtail movement as much as possible. Work from home, physical distancing, and then – a curfew. With the curfew – came brutality on the Kenyan civilian by the police. Not all police. Some. Yes – the Kenyan was outside the curfew time. Like the woman in the background of a news clip, walking in town at dusk, with one child on her back, the other’s hand tightly clutched, and her bag in the other hand. Past seven pm. I hope she and her children got home safely without receiving a bludgeoning from the police. I have watched one news briefing and a few videos. I am trying not to watch any more. My heart is hurt. What has rend my heart is not the beating of the Kenyan by the police. It was the glee, the sniggering, the snickering, the unseemly comments they made as they beat me and you. The savage emotional violence against a fellow Kenyan. Repeated by an alleged policeman on a video clip. I have spoken ...

The whipper and the whippee

I watched the clip of the man being whipped in a restaurant and I wept. I wept - not for the whipping, not for the pain, not for the indignity of that moment. I wept for something larger than that moment, or those moments. Yes the whipping was a violation. The whipper abused. The whippee was diminished and violated. For the whipper – I asked myself – why did he do it? –why did I do it? What must be my mental thought process to think that this will teach a whole grown person, make them pay for the mistake they have done, make reparation, or make them not do it again? What kind of pavlovian experience have I been through, experiment am I conducting – because this is not first time I am doing this. For the whippee – I asked myself – why did he allow it? – why did I allow it? What state am I as person in – spiritually, soulicaly, physically to allow such a violation? What has come before in my life, conditioned me before in my life, to be able to accept my current debase...