When-Misfortune-Knocks

When Misfortune Knocks

If my life was as smooth as a toddler’s butt, easy flowing like spring in spring, calm and relaxed like a demure young housewife and with no spot of hassle or worry, then the worst version of me would have sprouted from a beautiful budding flower.

I remember this one time in high school during a Biology trip to Namanga. I vividly recall my financial state then, broke, a church mouse was better than me as it would feed on the word. I was a practically a no one in high school, young, feeble, brushed off by the mighty and trampled by the bullies. I never had friends and was classified as an X, the pubic hair of the school.

I sat close to the window, giving birth to destructive thoughts that had impregnated my tiny brain. The chilly morning shivered my soul with fear of the unknown and the want for acceptance. I wondered why I was unloved, hated and bullied. The trees and clouds flew past me blurring my world with fantasies of how my mates will smell the fart of my amazing comeback.

When we reached Namanga old Maasai women flocked around our bus to sell beads.

Siloma,  ndizo, hizi Maasai zenu.” (Siloma, here are your people) One shouted as the rest roared in laughter.

I was used to this. It was not new for someone to say harsh and mean words to me. As the lot alighted the bus to tour the town and have choma and maybe some fries, I decided to get out, stretch and get back to my hibernation. As I alighted the bus, this old woman really pleaded with me that I buy her beads. I told her in Maasai that I had nothing.

She took my hand put a ring on it,  sorry,  the took my hand, put a beautiful Maasai ornament round my hand and spit on them as a way of blessing. For a moment, I felt this warmth despite the fierce cold. I almost cried as this very old woman told me that am blessed of the Lord.

On my way back, as the smell of fries molested the mixture of soda and bread in my now empty stomach, I pondered about the acts of the old woman. I wondered why she said such sweet words to me simply because I told her I had no money to buy her beads. What had she seen? Why would she say am blessed of the Lord? This taught me one valuable lesson, to simply do good when you can. You bless people more when you offer something valuable for free.

For the better part of my life, I have been a philanthropist, I have not necessarily offered money to charity but I have done my best to offer my services to people who really need them without asking for a dime. At first, I did this expecting God to return the favor. Guessed I got tired of waiting and just continued to do good.

Even with my self-proclaimed goodness I still jumped a hurdle after another. I wondered why the good Lord would allow me to undergo the furnace while I gave my all. I couldn’t understand why He had to dangle the carrot on my face after all the good I had done and was still doing. And this is where I went wrong, thinking that I deserved God’s blessings because I proclaimed myself self-righteous and unconditionally good.

Misfortunes have knocked my doors even more. Dark ugly clouds of despair have formed on many occasions in my life and would still ask God why. I would ask Him why He delighted in my suffering and why the evil triumphed. Over the years, I learned that I was being humbled, God was teaching me that I deserved nothing to claim any reward. I have all I have not because of all what I do but because of undeserving grace.

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Siloma Stephen

Siloma Stephen

I describe myself as simple yet complex, difficult to fathom and a hard nut to crack. I am made of unfailing love, one that sails my boat and oversees my flaws, one that binds me not on any law but nourishes my soul. I write from my soul, generally anything I feel I need to get off my chest most of which is based on my own life experiences, talents, and passions.

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About Author

Siloma Stephen

Siloma Stephen

I describe myself as simple yet complex, difficult to fathom and a hard nut to crack. I am made of unfailing love, one that sails my boat and oversees my flaws, one that binds me not on any law but nourishes my soul. I write from my soul, generally anything I feel I need to get off my chest most of which is based on my own life experiences, talents, and passions.

Follow me on Twitter

About Author

Siloma Stephen

Siloma Stephen

I describe myself as simple yet complex, difficult to fathom and a hard nut to crack. I am made of unfailing love, one that sails my boat and oversees my flaws, one that binds me not on any law but nourishes my soul. I write from my soul, generally anything I feel I need to get off my chest most of which is based on my own life experiences, talents, and passions.

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