Leena Amwaalwa

Thank you.
Thank you for your presence in our lives.
Thank you for easing our pains and soothing overwhelmed hearts.
Thank you for mending broken souls and fixing our insecurities.
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Mine is not your smartphone-age flamboyance.
Mine is not your modern 'here-today-gone-tomorrow' kind.
It lies not in my step,
But in the rhythm of my voice.
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Today we celebrate a champion,
We celebrate a gladiator.
We celebrate a virtuous woman,
My food bank and my mother's daughter.
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Your interests may be trash to someone else,
and vice versa.
That doesn't make you wrong or them right,
but different.
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It came bearing gifts.
Gifts of destruction and death.
It came hauling notices.
Layoffs, suspensions and evictions.
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A good man taught me to never put people in social standing categories. To accept others for who they are and to be kind to everyone.
Now I'm no saint, but I do my best.
A caring woman taught me to never use my privileges in life as a means to belittle people.
I'm no saint, but I'll hold on to that principle.
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She's beautiful,
She's brave,
She's a gem,
And a certified geek.
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I'm not you, and you'll never be me.
I advocate for causes that are dear to my heart.
See, I root for things that makes me happy.
I love 'wordsmithism', books, poetry, art,
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Don't belittle me, get to know me first.
I'm no saint, but I know I have a good heart.
Don't look down on people, not even at their shoes.
I may have a small head but I'm not dull.
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It began in the 1800s.
Pioneered by tactical barefoot warriors.
Shouldered by gallant gladiators.
Underequipped yet driven.
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I had people blowing out my candle behind my back while declaring heaven and earth in my face.
I had people hollering they'll fight with me, for me but when the time came, all they did was whisper inaudible support.
I had people promising to stand in my corner, come what may but when shove came to push, there was only one hand. Mine.
I had people affirming that they got my back, all the way. Well, the last time I checked my back was up against a hard concrete wall.
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We met some years ago.
We'd greet each other from a distance, until we eventually became friends.
Depression was a good sister.
Understanding and cheering me on every time I decided to give up,
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She was our friend
She was our sister
She was our rock
Our pillar of strength
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While I'm young, I want to serve my nation and impose the changes
that I want to see.
While I'm young, I want to see to it that every child gets an education
and goes on to lead a fruitful life.
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I keep blaming society for using me and dropping me like a bomb,
but, really, it is my fault.
I expected society to be kind to me just as I was kind to it.
I expected society to pick up when I call just as I picked up when it called.
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I'm not going to stand here and tell you that I know it all, because I don't.
Or that you're better than them, because it's not a competition.
I'm not going to stand here and tell you it's okay, because it's not.
I'm not going to stand here and tell you it's easy, because that's a lie.
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'It was one long month'.
'It was one big, chaotic roller coaster'.
'A prolonged misery'.
Everyone defines it according to their experience.
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'What would society think'?
'What would people say'?
'What if I fail'?
'What if things don't work out'?
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Success is not measured by how much wealth we own.
Success is not the type of education or qualifications to our credit.
Success is not the amount of money in our bank accounts.
In fact, if you can count it then it is not success.
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She's a global, yet unsung hero.
Her battleground is her lap.
Her hands are her weaponry.
Capped in prayers and worship, every warrior she carries home.
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