QUEEN AND SLIM – in Perspective

Photograph from NewYork Press. (I do not own any rights)

I do have a caveat. Ensure you watch the movie first before reading this. Be assured, there are many spoilers. If the title isn’t clear enough, this post is my perspective and/or thoughts on the story portrayed in this movie. In the spirit of Love.. so, here goes.

What do you do when you find yourself in a dilemma? Caught right in the middle between freedom and prison? Staring at death in the eye while the woke of your spirit stretches enthusiastically to find its way to the promised land? But just like Moses, the promised land was just that. A promise that was supposed to be fulfilled until the unfortunate slip of his tongue.

Picture from Google photos (I do not own any rights)

If i run, i am dead anyway. I mean just look at the colossal art of war standing before you? How will we ever get over this Mt. Everest of peril? Reality is now dawning. This is indeed the end. We tighten our fingers closer together hoping the fear in our hearts would be dissipated by the sound of the mist turning into water. Heart beats closer to each other probably in agreement that we have finally reached the homestretch. There is no more running away from the truth that we already knew.

But lucky for us. Lucky for us, we have each other so let us hold hands before the world pulls us apart with its repugnance for our kind of love. Before the cannibals we knew surround us and repeat to us what we hoped was not true. That justice is a cry for help few can hear or react to, a fallacy for some of us irregardless of the fact that we studied him believing no one had the power to tarnish him. Yet, we still hold on to faith. What does the world know about love? What has it ever perceived about eternal love apart from her need to decimate it to what it never was.

Our love is eternal. Be assured they will remember us. Our love is written as murals on picturesque buildings. Pristine walls will be transformed to reflect the heredity of our story. Soon, they will realize that they have lost and embraced the devil who owns them. You see, they were no where to be seen or heard when we asked each other what we wanted.

I will say it again for the world to hear while my crown sits on my head. Forever Queen. And i will respond again as if my words never escaped the hood of my mouth. As if like a precarious swarm of butterflies over my head, i will take those words and breath them out to you like air, ” I want a guy to show me myself. I want him to love me so deeply that i am not afraid to show him how ugly i can be. I want him to show me scars i never knew i had. But i don’t want him to make them go away. I want him to hold my hand while i nurse them myself. And, i want him to cherish the bruises they live behind.”

I am reminded of lasting memories even as i grapple with the question, “Is this really the end?” I promised to stand strong for the both of us. “I want a ride or die. I just want someone that’ll always love me no matter what. Someone’s that’s gonna hold my hand and never let it go. She’s gotta be special doe. She’s gon’ be my legacy. Look, i ain’t gon’ bend the world. As long as my lady remembers me fondly. That’s all i need.

And in finality. In this moment, unbeknownst to us, the future that lies ahead; i will with my last breath pray that i will hear you acknowledge me. My eyes see people hankering after our flesh. Their color reminds me of consolation. Impatience. They remind me of the home that i hoped i would come to know finally especially now when partisanship and inequity have been faithful partners for years. Hear the violence and terror rent the air. People baying to see our blood shed.

“I’ll never let go of this your hand. And if i may ask? Could i be your endmost memory? i beg you, fondly carry me in your frail yet wonderful mind? Hopefully on the other side, we can….. (SHOTS FIRED)

“Continue this love story.” He said.

Always Love and Light

Owinyjaber

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When I Finally Reached Beyond The Shadow of Doubt.

It is better to debate a question without settling it, than to settle a question without debating it – Joseph Joubert

By the time i got here, i had had my fill of dreams. Dreams of shooting stars spread across the wonder that had taken liberties with my curiosity. Asking if i would ever make it out of this dungeon alive? It is crazy how you can get accustomed to the lions den Daniel? The fire burning so fiercely, around me; almost swallowing up this little light of mine? How could i let it shine? What can i say? Doubt can be your best friend if you asked Him. If you played catch with Him long enough or engaged him in a game of ping-pong; I mean you won’t even see Him creeping up on you. You won’t even notice him moving in but He will open your eyes later to see his hostile take over.

Yet still the next morning i woke up. Trying to find my way past the layers upon layers He had entangled me. Doubt had created a mysterious world within and without me and i was the mysterious diver too curious. I jumped in with my hands and feet! Now, I cannot get out. How does it feel like to be in doubt? It feels like a journey in time, through space (emptiness), through the past (guilt and regret), present (self-doubt leading to self-hate) and the future because doubt is a thief of faith and hope.

Being in doubt is a terrible state but even worse is facing this monster naked without anyone to cover you. One time i smiled so genuine only to have it kidnapped. You see, before this reality, i knew how to stand before men. Kneeling before God was “easy”. I was Lebron James and the constellation that surrounded my sky, i was sure would never quit shining with me. Loyalty was their middle name and.. they had promised. We were aligned just right for one another. Together forever! At least that was my thinking at the time. Yet the mad dash for the dagger was more appealing. I still remember the outstanding sharp pain on my back; and to this day, i feel the wetness of being stabbed there. And don’t you get me started on the absentees and late-comers? Oh, and the no-shows! Doubt had a field-day playing with my heart back then.

I blamed God for all of it! He promised a clean slate and here i was stuck with a platter of waste! You said that i should put my trust in you; i trusted that you would not let me take the wrong turn. You said you would never leave me nor forsake me. I have been keeping the records since i joined this train into the pearly gates and they read loss upon loss. Salvation after all has no profit. A complete waste of time. When i looked around, time was indeed gone. I prayed that He would rewind the time but my petition was ignored. Oh God of time! Why did I give you mine?

I finally reached beyond a shadow of doubt. When i thanked you, Omniscient God for humbling me. Not because my vision matched up to your grandiosity yet humble nature. No! Because you saw the bigger picture and i did not. You allowed the doubt, lies, confusion, anger, the voices…. LOST TIME! just so that You would marvel at the strength of the being that stands before You now. You wanted the glory badly from every fragment that fell from the story. God, You wanted to look at me, your daughter in wonder. A girl who lived to exist and now a woman living with her eyes fixed on the aim far above her head. Even with this revelation, i purse my lips attempting to throw a tantrum instead, i throw my hands in praise and my voice lifts itself even louder to worship you. This is the reason you created me for.

If you are in doubt, i pray your faith rises higher than your pride. That joy and hope fills your heart. I pray that you hear the gentle voice of assurance that it is not too late because EVERYTHING IS IN PLACE. Believe it, because it is. After all, you will soon realize that beyond the shadow of doubt, there was so much to gain after the loss.

Always Love and Light,

Owiny Jaber.

RETHINKING HUMANITY AND FASHION – Are we chasing after the wind?

Gucci ‘Face Mask’ Balaclava Jumper

Gucci ‘Face Mask’ Balaclava Jumper

NYFW Week loading!!!! Hurraaaah! But first, I needed to chime in on a subject that is currently making waves in the Fashion industry. Fashion giant Gucci created a stir recently on social media, when images surfaced of their 890$ black balaclava knit jumper; which was being sold as part of their Fall Winter 18 collection. Sometime last year, Prada decided to display figurines that seemingly depicted the blackface caricature of the 19th century.

Prada Figurines which were a part of their “Pradamalia” line of goods.

Even more recently, in January 2019, Cartier gathered the “glitterati’s finest” (Vogue said it) for the launch of their latest collection in Paris. While everyone was fired up by the guest list that included Iris Van Herpen and the glitsy extraterrestrial collection, no one paid attention to the “weirdly hooded” individuals serving dinner.#KKK. Thank Goodness for Instagram. How else would i show you evidence?

Cartier Dinner in Paris celebrating New Collection, Jan 2019

Cartier Dinner for launch of new collection, Jan 2019

For them who may not be familiar, “blackface” was a gory depiction of blacks by white supremacists, which started in the 19th Century, where actors applied black make-up satirizing a “black person”. Now considered highly unacceptable though apparently it continues in some countries.

The Reproduction of a 1900 William H. West Minstrel show poster showing the transformation from “white” to “black”

Duckie Thot in Oscar de La Renta, Spring 2019, Ready-to-Wear

You may be wondering, why the interest “Kenyan” girl? First, I LOVE fashion just as much if not more than the next fashion guru. Second, nothing beats my need to be aware. Thirdly, I am a student of life and an agent of social change. I am motivated by the fact that we are not only to be seen, but to be heard.
We live in a time of constant evolution,of moving forward and lifting others up with us. But most importantly, we live in a time in which you should feel more empowered to own every single, wonderful thing that makes you, you.

Alexander Mcqueen Spring/Summer 2019 Ready- to-Wear

Whether we admit it or not, we are all somewhat influenced by fashion. The clothes that we choose to wear on a regular basis are based on personal preference. For some, the clothes they wear might have been worn by a model on the Oscar de La Renta fashion-show. For you that claims you are not, subconsciously, you are. Therefore, it is important not to be blind-sighted by fashion trends and “faux-pas”. Fashion is a culture and should anyone want to emulate or borrow historical culture to infuse into the present; then there should be decency and respect for these cultures; especially if they are prejudiced or marginalized.

Is it possible? Well, it is debatable. Historically, people of color were subject to slavery. It doesn’t really matter whether you coin it as “colonialism” or “imperialism”. At the end of the day, it was slavery. It is sad that iconic couture brands like Gucci who inspired us when they banned the use of fur as a statement against harmful practices in fashion, can expose their carelessness for human rights as they did recently. Does this go to show that neo-colonialism is real even in the fashion industry? If not, then why is it difficult to annihilate the ugly history of inhumanity, that makes up the history of colored people around the world.

For a long time, luxury brands have been riddled with white supremacy connotations. It is only recently that the realities of this began to dawn. Case in point, VOGUE MAGAZINE, in 2018, after 126 years of being in business accepted a black photographer- Tyler Mitchell for Beyonce’s cover. Yet, this only happened because Anna Wintour (Editor-in-Chief, Vogue; who i absolutely love by the way) gave over control to Beyonce for the cover. A moment that made history while still sparking outrage as to whether black superiority was the selling point.

Interestingly, Andre Leon Talley, Fashion Legend and First black male creative director of Vogue had this to say on whether he pushed for diversity during his tenure at Vogue:

Andre Leon Talley a.k.a ALT

” I never pushed for anything. I never pushed anything. I didn’t — Vogue is not a place where you are pushy. You’re not a bully — I don’t go in there — I never pushed for anything. I nuanced my points of view, safely, and realizing that I had to navigate a world that was basically a dominant white world of power. You don’t go in there pushing and saying, you know, ‘We gotta have a black cover.’ The covers are chosen when they are chosen for many, many reasons, for commercial reasons as well as perhaps demographics. I was never part of that. That was not my job. I was not in those meetings. That was not my responsibility. So when the covers are shot, you know, everyone is not brought in to be a participant in the cover decision. That goes between the editor in chief and the art director, and the photographer, and the fashion director who is doing that cover at that time. So you don’t even know what is going to be on the cover until you see it is about to go to print. No one decides that but the editor in chief. “

Yet we wonder why fashion professionals of color seek minority-driven publications instead of large fashion mainstream. Since then, Vogue and many other publications like National Geographic have showed genuine attempts to rectify their mistakes as regards representation and diversity.

Gucci apologized for their “mistake” and even issued an elaborate statement in that regard as to their commitment for human rights. But at the end of the day, it’s just another apology smeared over jarring depictions of people of color. After all it was a “mistake” right?

The purpose of garments is not just to make a fashion statement. Garments are story tellers of freedom, will, even redemption. Fashion in my opinion should be a tool to create cultural shifts leading to fundamental attitude shifts about exploitation which will in effect create life changing perspectives for both men and women in the world. The moment this translates to barbarous impressions of another human being, color notwithstanding, then, there is a problem. A problem that WE ALL should not draw amusement from or be quiet about.

My inspiration is fired up by individuals like Paul Rucker, 49-year-old multi-media artist and TED fellow collecting and creating antiquities that underscore racist realities in America. His latest creations involved bewildering KKK hats draped with bright African regalia on mannequins. A bold statement lending itself to the fact that racism is not being dealt with from a “residual” point but it is a current wave.

Paul Rucker “Birth of a Nation”

Hopefully, next time you go shopping for the latest Chanel bag or Fendi jacket; you might want to stop and think about the statement your putting out there. Fashion designers and all-round fashionistas, let us be bold and deliberate in our choices because people are watching and listening. Finally, let us remember that fashion is not all about the clothes, its mostly about the people wearing them.

Always Love and Light

OwinyJaber

PASSIONATE STROKES OF FLAVOR

Meet the Kenyan home-cook living her passion and innovating beyond the boundaries of Kenyan traditional cuisine

I am a visual story teller, enthusiast and wild, big heart. I am about God and the beauty in and out of people. I am about their essence, their image and the remarkable behind their seemingly simple front. I am an All- Or-Nothing. When I was a teeny, bare-foot, mud-stained, bright-eyed little thing, I realized the fascination in grabbing a mwiko (Swahili  for cooking spoon) and singing my heart out before the only audience that always cheered me on when I made my appearance. She was my great grandmother, who was baby- sitting me at the time. From what I hear, she thoroughly enjoyed my performances. With time, The Lord caused my passions to mushroom. It turned out some were still little shoots looking for some light hoping to fly but I see them now blooming. My heart dances at the thought they did not die. My story telling has advanced into a quiet love of showing people the beauty in the simple, and a loud thrill in capturing stories and honesty and joy.

Indecision can only be seen when I am book/jewellery/thrift shopping with a thousand options, or trying to decide what to Instagram. However, when it comes to my true passion however, I know Christ is the source and centre of me, of my joyful interactions with others, of my creations. Yes, I am a jean-jacket wearing optimistic and I love gold-evenings around tables made out of laughter and family. And I am not sorry. I am a big laughter, a raw feeler and loving the niche that Jesus placed me.

But enough of me, let’s talk about my recent conversation with a lady who has perfected passion and art.  Kaluhi Adagala is her name better known in social media circles as Kaluhi’s Kitchen. She is a young woman whose social media influence boasts of over 62,000. She is a woman of substance with a positive influence who freely shares her delectable savoury and sweet creations with the world. On her carefully curated feed, you can tell of a young woman who bears her heart and soul in all she does. Be it recipe testing or reviewing restaurants; It is clear that Kaluhi has found her voice and standing in society. She has found her dream and is passionately pursuing it. If I could sum Kaluhi up into a quote, I’d say she fits Vincent Van Gough who said, “I feel such a creative force in me. I am convinced there will be a time when let us say, I will make something good everyday, on a regular basis. I am doing my best to make every effort because I am longing so much to make beautiful things. But beautiful things means painstaking work, disappointment and perseverance.”

For more of her mouth-watering delights, catch her on  Instagram- @Kaluhiskitchen, Facebook – Kaluhi’s Kitchen and her blog kaluhiskitchen.com. But for now, peep into our conversation and hopefully you will be inspired to pursue your passion if not rekindle it. See you in the next one. Oh! And in case you missed my last interview, read it here 🙂

1. So, Kaluhi was it always your desire/aspiration to be a chef? Or did it develop overtime.

I’m actually not a chef. 🙂  A chef is someone who has formally trained and has the certification. I am a self-taught home cook, who is excellent at what she does. However I have to mention my interest in cooking has always been there since I was a child. But I only realized it was my passion after I completed my university degree, in 2014. I pursued a fulltime job in finance after graduation and a year in, I decided to focus on my food blog and monetize it.

Tell of the fire that has birthed Kaluhi’s Kitchen and the lessons learnt overtime.

Every creative goes through failures. I however do not view as setbacks, but as stepping stones and as a highlight on areas I have to improve. Be it my failed recipes, my unsuccessful campaigns, dealing with difficult clients, or dealing with online trolls, i view it all as a chance to become better and even more glorious in my craft. Despite the challenges, I am greatful for the successes that have served as a reminder that it is all worth it in the end.

• Being shortlisted among top 30 foodbloggers in the world by Prestel USA in the book Beyond The Plate.
• Winning best Kenyan foodblog in the BAKE for both 2016 and 2017.
• Meeting Siba Mtongana – twice both in Nairobi and Johannesburg and getting to feature in her internationally acclaimmed show on food network ‘Siba’s Table’.
• Being the star guest in CNN’s Inside Africa with Zoe Adjonyoh showing her around Nairobi and how we as everyday Kenyans eat and source for our food.

 

3. Meeting Siba Mtongana, how was that like?

It was a dream come true. Meeting the person I look up to twice and have her guide me through my journey has been a priceless experience.

4. What would be your number one kitchen rule?

Anything and everything can be delicious plus preparing delicious and beautiful food with simple recipes is possible.

 

5.    Is it troubling to find a balance between your success and maintaining your relationships?

In my understanding, success does not in any way interfere with relationships as is wrongly believed. Why would it? Success at what you do is just that, success. And everyone wants to be good at what they do. Being good at your job and being celebrated for excellence does not have an adverse effect on relationships. Does being a good doctor make one have bad relationships? No. Does being a successful marketer affect ones relationships? No. You owe it to yourself to be unapologetically good and successful at your job.

6.   Any mishaps in the kitchen?

Plenty! No one becomes good at what they are without making mistakes. Mistakes, however, serve as learning points. I even detailed it in a blog post, here’s the link:

7.  Are people intimidated to invite you over for dinner?

Sometimes. I however visit my friends and family not how to judge how they cook but to enjoy their company. And whatever is offered, as long as it’s cooked with love. I’m ok with it

8.   Last words

Anything done with love, will only show in the end result!

 

 

 

 

I AM PROUD OF MY MELANIN.

This is the day I saw the most beautiful blue-black, blurple, eggplant skin imaginable to the naked eye.

Posters. In my primary school years, my bedroom walls were covered with them. Literally, from top to bottom. R&B stars mostly. I’d lie on my bed listening to music and stare at them for hours. When the 90’s music stars were all the rage. All of them pretty. All of them successful.  All of them light-skinned. Besides my family, these were the women I idolized. I bought their albums. Mimicked their dance moves. And tried my best to duplicate their wardrobes. I wanted to be just like them. But every time I looked in the mirror, I was reminded I wasn’t. My nose was wider. My lips were fuller and vitiligo had set in. And my skin was darker. Much darker.

From that day forward, I began to consciously mask my insecurities with fashion and talent. I began searching hopelessly for other fits that would make me feel whole. An over-achieving student for example was one attribute I held dearly to my heart. I used my uniqueness to amplify my beauty. I became popular for “being myself.” But still, I couldn’t help but wonder why my skin color was viewed by many as inferior to that of my lighter-skinned friends. Why wasn’t there one celebrity in the limelight as dark as me who was considered beautiful? On the outside I appeared as confident as anyone, but inside I had to do some serious soul-searching and reflect on what exactly beauty meant to me. For me, this canvas dramatically changed when I came to know Christ. Cliché to some? Maybe. But for a girl who believed I deserved the worst just to feel some semblance of acceptance and peace, I was in dire need of Him.

I have never interviewed my current “cover girl” Maureen Bandari before. She is an ardent fashion, beauty and lifestyle content creator not to mention a social media influencer with over 8000 followers to boot! I was unsure if she would be willing to take a chance with me, but her fervent spirit and willingness was a genuine inspiration. Our conversations exposed her bravery and will to stand for what she believes in. Conscious of the world’s standards of beauty and one who has chosen to rewrite the conversation.  She is undoubtedly a force that will break powerfully into the lives of so many in the future. Nonetheless, the perceptions of people should not matter as much as the reality of the King who crafted you and holds you in the palm of His hands. Believe it! You can catch Maureen Bandari on her blog : maureenbandari.com, follow up on her buzzing Instagram feed @maureenbandari and Facebook @ Maureen Bandari. Now, you may cozy up and I’ll see you in the next edition.

In your own words, what does color and beauty mean to you?

Both are extremely important and they give me a sense of the gaps we have in the society which we can keep working on for a better future. We live in an era where the color of your skin plays a role in some people’s eyes which will help them decide if you are beautiful or not. The idea of inner beauty is almost laughable these days as more focus has been put on what can be seen with the naked eye. For a while now the phrase ‘you look beautiful for a dark-skin girl ‘ has been shunned because it creates the illusion that being dark is not beautiful except at that particular point of the girl being told. “I love to think that you are beautiful, PERIOD!”  We rarely say ‘you are beautiful for a light skinned girl’. Therefore beauty to me is personalized and cuts across all colors, but I look forward to a time when beauty and inner beauty will matter more than the color itself. That is when we shall have total freedom.

Will prejudice on the basis of color ever let up?

I believe this is one of the main reason bleaching is on the rise in Africa. To be honest, dark -skinned women do get discriminated against in numerous situations leading to negative impacts on the victims. When brands are looking for models when doing activations or launching a new product, they will more often than not go for the light skinned model. No matter the number of auditions, in most cases the same applies to music videos unless the song is about melanin.  Most people that bleach always give feedback that after the changes, they end up getting more gigs if they are in the entertainment business, they get noticed more by the opposite sex etc. It’s sad but it is happening.

Did you ever experience struggle/conflict within yourself concerning your skin type/color

Growing up in a family of five girls I always wondered why I was the darkest of them all. At that age it was more of a curiosity thing than a self- esteem issue. At some point in campus I did have a very close friend who was light skinned and that is the point where I could tell the difference especially in regards to everything I have talked about. I have always been a confident person. However with social media now and advanced technology in form of cameras and even apps where your skin tone can be altered, it has made me at some point wonder what I will look like if I was a little bit light to be honest based on apps and camera lights. However the beauty of loving myself, accepting myself for who I really am grounds me and makes such moments a passing experimental thought but not a need to change myself. I only struggle finding the perfect pink lipstick shades for darker tones, nothing more! 🙂

Still on the subject of melanin? Does it define beauty in the 21st century?

In a way, Yes and NO. No because the issue of color is huge and it will take years to reverse the world’s current school of thought. I also think yes because initially only really dark skin women talked more on the issue of melanin. Right now though most women of African origin no matter the shade are quick to be associated with melanin especially on social media which I think is a positive outcome. Artists are recreating material bringing the issue to light. Make up brands are investing more into expanding their shades to accommodate melanin girls and this just shows that it may not define beauty in the 21^st century but it’s sure getting a seat at the table and I’m here for it!

MY EYES SWAYED TO THE SIDE.

 

Hello lovelies…

As I promised, Here I am actualizing!!!! Today’s post is going to be a tad personal. Like I said in  my last post HEALING IN THE PROVERBIAL DRESS! Check it out and let’s get sharing!!

This week I have been caught up in the wind and fierce courage of my thoughts and after mastering both, I came up with this post. It was not an easy one to come by because I was relying heavily on my daily inspiration. I have had tough lessons on trusting in God but I guess It fell between the cracks, that even for “inconsequential” things like blog  content, Trusting in Him does matter. He is a jealous God. I fear Him.

Life is a roller coaster. It could be beautiful, it could be ugly but then it depends on which side life affects you; With Christ or without Him. The beauty does lie in the eyes of the beholder depending on whose Image we see in ourselves.

The eye is an expressive mechanism in my opinion. Why? Because despite being a simple organ, it speaks volumes. The eye can express disgust for the fickleness or the harsh, disrelishing smell of coffee(not true by the way) or smile at the smell of the soil on an earthy day. The eye can shower In it’s waters when the heart chooses to brim with gladness or when discomfited solitude overtakes the soul.

The eye is a simple organ that can cause hurt or pain. I believe for the female gender, the truth of this could be overbearing. I am not too sure of the women in the Western countries, I would rather tread on my African roots to elucidate this fact. To be honest, I think eye-rolling originated in Africa. Being born and raised in diverse African cultures where the woman’s strength was disregarded, it is not rare to find women with a “twisted almost petrifying” kind of strength. But isn’t it the story of many women? Situations of life and experiences during their mushrooming have sadistically destroyed their ability to love and be ‘lady-like” and it could be worse.  I have been blessed and fortunate to find healing in the hands of a man and woman who carry God because I was once that woman. Sources of healing remain various, I have come to learn that God has the choice where yours is.

 

Do not procrastinate. Do not be ignorant. Time flies quicker over the wings of a barn stormer  parallel to the eagle. Keep your eyes open rather than shut. Do not be afraid to ask. Lessons can be taught even by the nuisance of a five year-old. Ask The Lord to open the eyes of your heart; with the physical eye, it’s way easier to miss something. Ask The Lord to open the eyes of your heart, because depth of relationship with Him only exists in the secret place. Moreover, there’s still so much that you just DON’T know.

Rise early and retire later. Reflect on the past, the present and future but do not linger there too long. ACT on your dreams and be determined to be better than yesterday. Don’t beat yourself up for mistakes. (My  sister once passionately shared with me). I forgot but today I remembered and that’s fine. Learn to believe you will be alright. Learn to say that you will be up to scratch even when it does not feel like today. Faith is a gentle activator of God’s blessings hidden in the wings of The Holy Spirit, hidden yet so easily accessible. All that Is required is asking; Once activated, it feels like sweet honey comb on your tongue. It feels so GOOD!!

Learn to open your eyes to the endless possibilities floating around. The Lord actually disseminates ideas. Do not be stuck up on your office job or whatever comfort zone. See FAR…

See your beauty in the mirror. Look at your flaws and revel In the beauty of them. Those are the elements that make you ever unique, and no one can make them manifest better than you.

 

Open your eyes!! Keep your head up and shoulders straight. Allow The Glory of Christ to reflect off your visage. Let your countenance be seen by them who do not believe, that even they could reconsider their election as to why they did not believe from the beginning. Pull that light from under your bed and place it by your bedside. Better yet carry it in your hands so that the creatures of the earth could see your Why. One day, they will thank you. Even if they don’t, It’s okay. In the libraries of heaven, your full names have been perpetually embossed.

 

Laugh and sparkle like the alluring fire-fly!No matter how much they try to shut their perspective, they will have to see what He is doing in your life. The light will shine brighter even with their eyes closed.

 

Always Love and Light

Owinyjaber

 

HEALING IN THE PROVERBIAL DRESS!

Hello lovelies!!! I am fully aware that this post has seemingly been long -drawn- out but here- we are!!! This sunshine on a popsicle has been going through various life changes from working out my salvation, gaining new wings and moving out of home, trying out the ketogenic diet, etc. Big flop by the way but I still laugh at myself and pick myself up from time to time.. but that is another story for another day.

Recently, I ventured into the fashion scene. (Claps for Self).  This was a God-move,  very much encouraged to pursue and which was a passion of mine growing up in the nineties in Nairobi and a complete trajectory from my legal roots however not abandoned. I was always keen on the latest fashion trends and always felt extra rocking pieces that were yet to be “new arrivals”. The passion has since turned into a business and walking boots in tow. Welcome into my world as I share JESUS, My journey , discoveries, lessons, stories and experiences with you. I am so Excited.

How about you sit down, grab yourself a hot mug of caffeine and Let me tell you the story of Africa..

Africa for a long time has been considered a continent plagued with corruption, contests and obstacle. She has been tainted and marred with numerous accusations of how unworthy she was. A continent painted black recognized as “melanin”, humans demeaned to animals who needed to be tamed by its owners. The colonizer, He was named. The African was not sure what to make of Him so the indigenous people populated across her chest coined various titles for Him. In my country Kenya, they called Him “Mzungu”. Why the name? Because all He was known for is “Kuzunguka”(wanderer).

The colonizer was recognized as the emblem of inhumanity to the dark continent. Till today, His ills and evils are remembered far and wide. Tales and horrors of his reign are still told. History reports him because many till today bear the scars of the terrors past.

This dark story holds even today for the nation of Namibia, The tribe of the Herero. Stumbling upon the story of this primordial community, felt like a gusty wind of revelation that there are African nations that have actually healed from the fetters of racial segregation & colonialization and have sought to move forward like the Herero community.

The Herero community like many other tribes, faced great tribulation under the German colony. The colonialists baying for their blood committed atrocities against the Herero tribe including rape and mass executions of children by hanging. History whispers that between the era of 1904-1907, 70% of the Herero tribe had been annihilated and neared extinction.

I have come to learn that history can either be good where memories linger but hope remains or bad, where History is a caldera of pain; and this unfortunately is so for many African countries who are yet to find true healing and forgiveness.

Fortunately, this is not the case for the Herero tribe of Namibia. The Herero took the shackles of their imprisonment and made silver articles for jewelry. They took the garments of their oppressors and the widespread tyrannical rule ; drawing inspiration for their day to day dress. They chose to maneuver through the psychological distress and pain, forging on as they reclaimed their identity as Namibia.

The dress has become emblematic of their persona and heritage; and it is not surprising to find the old adorning themselves in the dress and the young women hankering after the opportunity to bedizen themselves in the one of a kind herero attire which is a rite of passage.

The dress is an immaculate vision of the Victorian style of the 1930’s with the puffy sleeves and A-line shaped skirt. However, modern Namibian fashion designers are modernizing the dress with the “new generation woman” in mind. Designers are opting for flamboyant fabrics and out of the box designs yet still paying homage to the dress. The herero attire is not limited to the ladies, but also the men have embraced the norm.

Beyond the carry-on of the dress and its symbolism, I believe  this African story is a lesson to us to see past the veil or better yet, remove it and re-write a new story of hope. Veils of turmoil and hardship that have scourged the African continent for decades. Veils that have lingered in the hearts of the people of Africa who still remember to this day. The day and age is ripe. It is time to forgive them.

“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.. Before you were born, I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.” – Jeremiah 1:5

 

Forever Love and Light

OwinyJaber

 

MEMOIRS CAST IN STONE..

Hello my faithful readers, bloggers, and yes.. my random visitors, I see you! I know it’s been a minute since i posted and it is indeed regrettable. Do not throw rocks at me. ;D

However, i am elated to share with you what God has graciously placed on my heart. Recently, i realized that God has been leading me through, a somewhat different direction especially with regards to my writing. I find my content sounding more poetic than usual, and i believe it is for good reason.My prayer is that with every post, someone will be lifted, inspired, blessed and rise up from their ashes. Ashes take many forms and shades, but that does not matter because ashes in the palms of Jesus metamorphose into blooming roses. Now, that doesn’t mean i have abandoned the original arrangement and/or format, this is just my act of obedience.

I’ve always said that Jesus IS the most romantic person i have ever known. This is evident in the way i catch a serious case of the heebie-jeebies when i read about Him in the gospels. He just has a way with his words, how else would you explain how the Pharisees would switch to mute when He spoke? I love the Jackie-Hill Perrys’ of this world, but no one comes close to Jesus. He is the original Poet, and being around Him, no doubt has left a few punch-line marks which i will be expressing soon enough.

This piece appeals to the heart that is distracted. The individual who seems overtaken and keen to forget the finished works of the cross. It is a word for you to keep your focus, maintain your walking shoes even when your tempted to jump ship, keep your head up and your eyes fixed on Him, because His are on you.

 

Just remind me in case i forget. Just in case my mind slips into the Grecian arenas of amnesia. Just in case my will insists to assault the memories of your faithfulness; to sit obstinately that only my will and not yours be done.

Some days ebb out of the vapors of contrition, which unfortunately seemed closed off to my tongues distaste, i remain tempted to refrain into accapellas of self blame and jails of solitary confinement, disdain for the way life has chosen to up in arms struggle, regrouping to the right heart chamber instead of my left.

My arteries, still remain clogged with the blood clots, frustrating the opening of those ancient gates that the King of Glory may finally come in. A nerve-wracking battle to finally sanction the King’s will to flow yet again through my aorta; not willing to huff and puff, or exhale and breathe in His everlasting air, that clears away my heavily obstructed , abstract windpipes. I did not know breath until He broke through and breathed into mine.

I confess, it is a struggle Lord ; and i know i speak for many people; many sit like cats wrapped in cotton balls in such seasons; where they have not found their feet yet deep-rooted like Sycamore trees, Like Zacheaus..please, you cannot compete with this! They lift up their hands like half-mast flags because they still mourn the loss of their Living King. They hold up picket signs in demonstration of their lack luster frustration, hoping to resurrect the fallen Dr.King as if He can yet march down the streets where Rosa Parked. It is as if Malcolm X could yet again resurrect to say that it would be criminal to teach a man not to defend himself when He is the constant victim of brutal attacks.

With their backs against the wall, they still hope to make a come-back, they still have a dream that they will one day find their identity, identified in their desire to search for worldly things because The world is their comfort zone, their only home. But yet… I..

I still have memories cast in stone, head-phones on the low as i quietly reminisce about the one true Dr and King who lifted up heavy burdens of thankless generations birthed and still oscillating in their mother’s wombs. He lifted up heavy planks carved using weird configurations that resembled the silhouette of a cross. He faced the lashes and back-lashes of bloody executioners unaware of the power that stained their hands. They had inhaled the fallen nature of that fallen angel. Unaware, that they too had fallen. Yet here came a whiff of redemption.. a rare chance of Salvation.

And as He hung there, his blood-shot eyes soaked with the love for his Creation. He was filled with endearment towards their re-generation, as yet again, He had finished his mission; just to be the ultimate and final hero standing, deserving of the “S” on his chest. I said..Finally deserving of the “S” on his chest.. The true Original. The one and only Superhero.

Then .. My Master’s breath finally gave way. Gave way to victories written in the walls of heaven and gorily echoed in the temple of the abyss; the story where He tugged and yanked the keys of Humanity’s authority from that devil; and only them that accept Him as their savior and King have the rare privilege to be snagged in the latest designer collection only known in heavenly runways; feigning the title, “The Armor of Christ” featuring the breast-plate of salvation.

He reigns now… He reigns in glory, sitting gloriously at His Father’s right hand; as he prepares to come down one final time for us. He is currently engaged in state of the art architecture, creating mansions only measured as a whirlwind fascination; but one day soon, we will get to behold his art. He will come and bring them into the realm of his glory where their mortal bodies will finally have the strength to contain it. In that place where there will be no weeping or gnashing of teeth.

Therefore i choose to remember,lest i forget the banner that covers me today is your love. It is your passion to see me live out your original plan. I, your princess.. yet you remain my one and only King and friend.

To this day, the echo of that memory upsets the heart beat of my heart, call it cardiac arrhythmia, yet no pace-maker can regulate. Only your heart beat Lord that keeps mine awake. Therefore, remind me, when my heart flutters and attempts to stage a coup, to dictate the direction of my spasmodic emotions; remind me that you won it all. Indeed, you have won me.

Love and Sunshine

Owinyjaber

MARY, DID YOU KNOW?

 

 

I speak to Mary, graced with dark hues of glory, i speak to Mary who hides herself in the bossom of emptiness, believing that is her destiny . The essence of she is womanhood. Womanhood goes beyond breasts and curves. Others might love to think so but I beg to differ. Womanhood is more than just painted nails and designer handbags. Womanhood is the glory on our heads, the kindness in our voices. it is about the love in our arms when we hug others. When we let  others feel the love beating in our chests.

I am saying to you Mary, we are about the smiles on our faces. You bring light and joy when you enter the room, clear evidence that Christ has made you his humble abode. There is a grace about you Mary. A grace that cannot be precisely described but it’s all over you. It is an unreserved glory. It is a grace that I haven’t seen on other women. You must be the bride that Solomon was talking about. You cannot be compared to others, wouldn’t that be a disgrace?

Mary, you have a way with your words. So careful and meticulous. Words so carefully crafted as if with vivid intention to create a lasting impression on the recipient. Young or old, your words are laced with a concoction so aromatic, even the least of them begs to hear. Words laced with profound wisdom. Sitting at the highest places in the town, your influence is well known, nothing gory to the details, but the impact of your words to the lives of the people around is worth taking note.

Charm is deceptive but a woman that fears The Lord is to be praised. This golden cloth you adorn yourself so beautifully. I genuinely cannot help but keep on staring and looking. The glory of The Lord upon you is so enticing, so attractive. I cannot help but commend God because such a worthy vessel you are that He chose to use you to represent his glory here in this dark earth. Your worth Mary is far more precious than rubies.You have taken your seat amongst the rarest of gems The Lord has ever created. You sit with the highest of the highest, yet you treat the lowest of the lowest even much more highly. Daily, we read of you. We hear of you. Nothing gory to the detail, all things bright and beautiful.

Mary, your beauty cannot be explained. Even as you carry along with that beauty resting on your insides. Well covered up on the outside but then again, you cannot hide. As you subconsciously seek to conceal him, all a matter of motherly instinct. A tongue twisting episode you have come to, though i know troubling. How is it, yet you know no man? I’m just speaking as an outsider, no experience to my name. But I ask myself. amidst all the chaos, are you knowing or merely oblivious of the one you carry within you? Have you chosen to be ignorant of the disposition of the being that you are about to bring forth into this world?

Have you considered his shape or frame? Maybe she will carry your nose or your dainty thin fingers; i don’t know Mary, but have you considered it? Do you know the strength of your loved one, his countenance. I tend to think He will be strong-willed, very patient and loving.  I believe He will have a beautiful mind, a strong heart, quiet spirit and wisdom that surpasses Solomon. Maybe more.. but i think i am close.

As you stare at your reflection in the mirror, the imminent kicking of your little one resounding through your abdomen, tell me Mary have you considered what He will be? A professor, an engineer, a musician? Maybe the President. What was your request to the King when you met Him? Others have asked that their sons sit on the right and on the left of Him. Some considered it indignant but don’t we have the liberty to ask the King for anything we desire when He specifically says.. “Ask and it shall be given?”

Do not be surprised by my sentiments Mary , neither carry yourself defensive but if we serve The King, we must embrace him and his embodiments.  Have you then asked The King whom you carry? In your inner portions lie a progeny whose beating heart resonates to yours.

 

Because I have heard that it was told of old, in hush whispers, He would be the living water. He would be a never ending stream of refreshing open to one and all , only if you would care to take a sip. Your life would never be the same. I heard he would be the Savior of the universe. He would be the liberator to the captives. Yes, even to the last generation, i heard that his name would resound. His Spirit would be poured out to all flesh. Daughters and sons would speak in unknown languages and speak of mysteries only heaven’s walls would care to know.

I heard that his name would be the truth. That in his veins would course embers of honesty and plain truth. His lips would be filled with wisdom that surpassed that of age. His eyes would be fiery, peeking right through the dirty window panes of our souls.Many will try to paint him but have yet to achieve his likeness.

But then Mary, did you know, the nails that would be driven in his hands? The horror of his scarification, all for the sake of humanity. Did you know, that you would not recognize Him? His death would symbolize the beginning of life for them that believe. Yes, his friend Judas, will be his betrayer but he too would receive his just reward. He is a reckless romantic, one who just cannot be held. Not even your loving arms Mary can suffice. His greatness, his love cannot be fitted. It bursts forth and through barriers and barricades, sweeping over  and through everything in its way.

I just pray you do, before you are overtaken.  Before time slips through your chips fingers.

Love and Sunshine

Owinyjaber

xxxxxx

WHO WILL TAKE ON THE MANTLE?

First off, this is not your usual blog post. Neither is it another vlog from one of your home girls,

I just had to say  a few things.. If you will let me. See, Who will continue on? Long after the warfare continues to dawn, after the Lord’s generals have rested with The Lord? See, we have become complacent. So used to being spoon-fed, constantly being led. Lazy David in training.

We are so comfortable dragging the servants of God along in our messes, long after they have taught us the art of overcoming the evil one. We still behave as if the day or the hour will not come.. soon enough, my friend, soon enough.

Who will continue on? See, they tried to drag David along in the battle, but He was too weak to fight. Come on now? how many years had he been in the fight? How many days, weeks, hours together with you Israel? How many wars have you seen him fight and win? How many have you stood in the battle in? Yet you still want to drag your master along?

Why so comfortable? Why so comfortable? Haven’t you fed enough already? Haven’t you eaten the plunder silly? Haven’t you caused enough drama … sorry.. trouble already? First it was you Absalom, then now it is you Joab?

Israel, why are you not learning your lesson? You should be his support and not his downfall. Israel, get off the couch before i slap you silly! Have you not considered the future? Your nursing children will soon be walking, running, leaping! What do you have to show for all your lessons? And for all your muscle?

They have stepped into this ugly, cold world. Look into their eyes…. Take a look into their eyes, Israel as you kiss them goodbye; As you take up your sickle, waving goodbye as He goes. What have you left behind? Who will speak for you Israel?

Did He watch you go into battle with your general David? Did you let him hold the sword with you in the battle? Did he watch you ash your knees in dirt? Did He watch you cry, weep, wail, lie prostrate , crying out to the heavens? Did he watch you clothe yourself in sackcloth and ashes? Israel… did He?

Or did he watch you become a spitting image of the crow. Did he watch hatred and bitterness become your inner core? Israel, did he watch you complain and wallow in the sea of your disdain? Did he watch you open your mouth and watch a bed of roses seamlessly entwine onto the heart of that lowly fellow? Or did he see those words crush him into the lowliest of widows?

See, Israel your words, your thoughts, your actions. The future is watching. The future is not watching the bible. You are the canvass that they wait on as it unravels. Who holds the brush Israel? or do you paint yourself? Is that even humanly possible? Have you stepped out of the Great painter’s hand? Is he still interested in you Israel? or has he began another project? because he projects there is…. no future, no hope in you Israel. Have you asked yourself if that is indeed the state? What about him whom you said your goodbyes to? when you held your sickle, thinking it will only be a few. I’ll be back soon.

I REALLY need to go now…. by the way this emanated from 2nd Samuel 21:15-22. Who will take over from you? A generation comes after you. Will they find you still attempting to find your footing; tip toeing here and there? Will they find you solid. A real genuine reflection of the Christ that you serve. His imminent nature already ingrained. Maybe with a little scarring? But then again,  what’s wrong with scars? The Lord bears them to this day. When you hold your little one in your hands, and as he peers intently into your knowing eyes. As he looks at your beautiful scars almost bemused, your smile will assure him that it was all worthwhile.

Love and Light

Always,

Owinyjaber.

PS- Check out my last post here. Happy reading. 🙂