Unfortunately, I don't know how I can now uplift you as you lie speechless physically, but busy educating the other angels in heaven. The news of your death crushed every bone in my body. Your birthday passed, but adulthood had me moving up and down, thinking I would make a call sometime when I am relaxed and settled. Indeed, part of adulthood is learning to live with the quiet grief of those we have lost.

As soon as I sat down, a man came over and sat to my right. My heart was in my mouth. I was ready to give him whatever he wanted. It was like this wasn't enough to scare life out of me. Another man came and sat to my left. One thing ran through my head, “This is the day the Lord has made to take me.” 

RIP Sydney Gongodyo. Unless we develop a backbone for each other as Ugandans, we shall continue to suffer.

Now that the late Maxine has been laid to rest, her story, just like every other Ugandan event that ideally should spark a form of action, will also be laid to rest. It will end with people nodding their heads and uttering, “It’s painful.” 

I laughed. I told her about something most people don’t know about me. I had no offer for university (local and international) after senior six. I was among the worst performers at my school. More so, I attended one of the best schools in the country. I think that was my first experience of depression and stress. What killed me most was the 60 rejection letters I read from universities and colleges in the USA. You read that right. 60 REJECTION LETTERS. If the theory that the more we get rejected, the more we get used to rejection is correct, I shouldn’t even have any emotions for rejection at this point in my life.

A little detour, I think one of the best pieces of advice I have received time and again has been, “Invest in yourself.”