What Makes Me Me?
Sometimes I think am Siloma maybe because am of light complexion Other times I think maybe it is because am a writer and I do the things I do Sometimes I think my career defines…
266 posts published in 2016.
Sometimes I think am Siloma maybe because am of light complexion Other times I think maybe it is because am a writer and I do the things I do Sometimes I think my career defines…
I have asked you for everything in life Wealth, health and a sane mind Beautiful wife and kids and holidays to unwind I have asked for opened deals, straightened paths and…
Francis Ole Legis The passing on last week of Francis Lemek Ole Legis marks the end of an era in Maasailand politics. Ole Legis who was laid to rest yesterday in his Loolopon home…
How quick I reply to her message And how fast I change my mind from reading your word are just the same There is no thin line to how fast I get tired when it is time for your word…
I used to be proud Wait… Who confesses that? I used to think more of myself That others came last I was self-seeking and greedy Willing to do anything at all costs So long as I do…
I realized that most of my friends are talented. Most of them ask me, “Hey, how do you hack all these?” “Do you have 32 hours in a day?” Some go to the extend of saying, “I wish I…
Everyone is just perfect on their feed With timelines filled with sweet notes And words of praise and masterly Everyone is clean and has done good But ‘other’ people let them down…
How many times have I questioned you? ‘When? How long? Can’t you see?’ How many times have I doubted you? ‘Are you really God? Can you really do it?’ And how many times have I…
I can describe my love life as a bittersweet experience; but everyone would probably say the same about theirs. This is because, it came with a lot of thrill and pain. It was not…

One day, my heart shall sing My jubilant self will bleat like a lamb One day my eyes shall run dry From the precipitation of my tears One day a warm hug I will recieve Making my…

When the ‘soot-stained’ raise their hands Acknowledging God’s presence When someone you loathed before Cries upon the spirit-filled sanctuary It feels fake, a mockery to the faith…

Sometimes reaching you is a puzzle A jigsaw with missing pieces At most times I do not understand The smoke from my burning self What caused the fire? My sins or generations…
I still write every week, on purpose, faith and building where you are.