MIND SPACE

As a modern parent, “chopping a wire” meant cutting off the Wi-Fi. It was not about removing the internet for just a single day. No, it was about removing it until my daughter's smartphone started to look like one of those original, ancient Nokia phones that can only text and call. It was an instant reality check. It didn’t leave a physical scar, but it certainly left a lasting impression. Some lessons are simply better taught with logic and strategy, depending on the child's age. We often think discipline requires a cane, a broom or a raised voice. We worry that if we don't react with force, we are being weak. Take the Bible verse that says, “Whoever spares the rod hates their children, but the one who loves their children is careful to discipline them.” We have all interpreted this in our own way. In African homes, this has traditionally meant breaking almost every tree branch in the compound to instill discipline. But I love how that verse specifically says “careful...

  Growing up, many of us watched our fathers carry the weight of the entire world on their shoulders without ever uttering a single complaint. They were the ultimate providers, the unshakeable rocks of the family. If they were stressed, they worked harder. If they were hurting, they buried it deeper. Our parents, especially the men, never used to seek help. In our society, a man’s tears were treated like a myth, and his mental struggles were hidden away behind closed doors, masked by long hours at work or silence. For generations, African masculinity has been defined by endurance. We were taught that to be a man means to suffer in silence, to protect everyone else while leaving yourself entirely unprotected. But this cycle of silent suffering is breaking us. A lot of men today do not seek help for their mental health because of how society looks at them. We fear being labeled as “weak,” “soft,” or told  “ba musajja” (be a man) and deal with it. We wear a mask of strength to...

  The news arrived like a sudden storm, leaving us anchored in shock. A classmate, someone full of life, purpose, and infectious kindness, was suddenly gone. One day we are sharing goals, laughter, and school stories from the past; the next, we are left holding nothing but memories and the heavy “what-ifs” of the future. How do you explain grief? It is like the air around us. You cannot see it, you cannot touch it, but you can feel its crushing weight aching deep inside your chest. Losing someone is a pain that changes us forever. In our journey through life, classmates turn into siblings and we watch strangers become mentors. When that bond is broken, the silence left behind is deafening. To help us understand this invisible ache, we often look at the stages of grief. However, grief is rarely a straight line; it is an emotional path we must walk together. Stage 1: The Numbness of Shock and Denial In the immediate aftermath, your mind protects you by refusing to believe reali...

  Today is my birthday. To me, a birthday is a big deal; it feels like a Speaker of  Parliament election, minus the political drama. I am not sure if this “birthday obsession” is just a symptom of being a planned kid (lol), but I always look forward to it. Why? Because I get to share this day with my daughter while practicing some serious self-love. I beat the 1-in-365 odds to share a birthday with my own child. Honestly, only God could pull off a statistical miracle like that. But with this celebration comes another digit added to my 30s. Let’s be real: getting older can feel a little scary. The moment you hit a certain age, society expects you to transition from worrying about party themes to wrinkles and chronic illnesses. Just today, I heard a radio advert reminding adults to get screened for diabetes and cancer. My immediate reaction? “Oh Lord, what is this? My life is officially over.” Society loves to label age, and those labels open the door to anxiety and depres...

  Last week, our hearts were shattered by a horror we never thought we would see. Our world was shaken to the core when we learned of the innocent children stolen from us in a place that should have been their sanctuary. In the face of such senseless evil, we are left with so many questions but no answers. Why did this person do this? Why did it have to happen to these sweet, innocent little ones? I cannot even imagine the pain the parents are feeling right now. A big hole has been left in their hearts; no more will they hear that chicky laughter, those tiny noisy footsteps, and those warm hugs. I think about the teachers and the friends who were there, the deep wounds that will stay in their hearts and minds forever. A day that started out sunny and bright was suddenly turned dark. Those who were present saw things no one should ever have to see. We cannot turn back the hands of time, as much as we wish we could, but we must stand together. A child belongs to the whole communi...

 It took me a long time to learn how to love myself. For years, I was my own biggest critic. I always felt like I was not good enough, and those negative thoughts were deeply stuck in my mind. I wanted to be like everyone else, except myself. I lacked confidence and was a people-pleaser, constantly trying to avoid rejection. Here is a news bulletin: Not everyone is meant to like you. That is a truth I learned later on. I used to second-guess myself. I found it hard to accept compliments, yet I craved external validation. When you don’t love yourself, life feels heavy and "messed up." However, I have learned that self-love is something you grow slowly, like a garden. No one else can do it for you. It is a journey you take one step at a time. Let me repeat this: no one can—and no one will—love you on your behalf. Not your mother, father, partner, or even your dog. Self-love starts from the inside and spreads outward. In our society, girls are often told what is "wron...