It was a slow descent to sloth,
preceeded by greed,
but not before envy had his say,
then we met gluttony,
as resentment built up we found rage,
and when lust lingered like a vine connecting all these vains,
it was discovered at the root of it all,
at the start of the fall,
hidden deep inside,
was a piercing pride.

Our cousin's are our first best friends,
Blood leave's little room for pretense,
We fight with no compromise until the fittest has their way,
in a patriarchal place sometimes the girls sit or work and watch the boys play,
These are the types of things my big brother would challenge about society,
What was the best way for us to coexist?
How could we ensure that we could all flourish?
Male, female, sexist, racist, brown, pale, Christian or atheist.

Anyone who really knew Musenge knows he didn't shy away from controversy,
He knew that change cannot come from conformity,
Though we didn't always agree,
I saw him as mind that was free.

I was so glad when i heard he was pursuing journalism,
Like when we were kids i thought he was stepping in to his rhythm,
We would dance to Michael Jackson at family gatherings,
Without a care for whether we were actually happening,
It was the two of us against the world for that moment.
Those are my fondest memories.

Then he went to the UK and we became slightly estranged,
The next time I saw him,
his jawline had changed,
His voice had a buzz,
but his eyes were the same,
The eyes never change,
but the face tales a tale,
of struggle and pain,
fear and rejection,
but also of joy and of hope,
love and acceptance,
I was curious to know how his journey had been since we last met.

He was still like my best friend and we picked up like he never left,
He really enjoyed Marvel movies so we'd go to the cinema whenever we could,
recently we'd grab a shawarma and a beverage from the local neighbourhood when I'd come home for the holiday.
He was a fan of a good story.
He looked at life as one and he often questioned his own and our own.

One thing I'll always remember was Musenge's cry for unity.

He felt that there was a drop in love in the family and not just the Kasese's but Africa.
Having lived in three different continents his mind became global and he no longer saw Jew or Greek, slave or free. As much as he sometimes had doubts about God as we all do he was getting closer to the heart of Jesus more than he probably knew.

So what then must we do to honour the life of our friend, brother, son and nephew?
I believe we must try to love like he loved,
He had the best wishes for each of us,
St. Thomas Aquinas said To love is to will the good of the other,
Though sometimes misunderstood,
Musenge's intentions were good.

May we tell each other how much we love each other more often and may we show it too.
May we give big open hugs as he would.
Make this journey a little less lonely and cold,
May we have discussions and not arguments and listen to each others views.
May we be curious to challenge the status quo and ask how we can improve,
May we heal the world and make it a better place,
That's what Musenge was trying to do.

May we not be crushed by the pain and grief.
May the spirit of God comfort our hearts and may we be grateful that we got to experience the wonderful enignma that was Musenge Geoffrey Chibwa.

We will miss you my friend,
Your story had too soon an end,
May mercy make us meet again.
Lord graciously hear us.

I saw her through rose colored eyes,
there was so much truth in those lies,
even after I looked past her disguise,
post-infatuation still left me surprised,
Let me try to summise.

When you care for someone, it's almost as if they can't put a foot wrong and even their imperfections are justifiable in your eyes.

I see her through the lens of a friendly sunflower now because that's the zone we're confined to,
sometimes too painful to rhyme through.

Anyway for me it's her pretty brown eyes and how she can't have me stare at them while she's aware so I salvage every moment of their sparkling glare.

She's a princess to me,
enveloped in naive wisdom,
she sees the world in a way that's rare,
tries to cover up how much she cares
but she collects sea shells as memories of every time she's been to the beach.

Such attention to detail shows me how deeply she thinks.
It's amazing how seashells don't crack in the mighty waves.
How come she hasn't cracked?
It's that fragile strength that leaves me in awe and wonder.

I never feared drowning till I was almost engulfed by the ocean.
It quickly went from thrill to thriller.
That's how it feels when I'm with her.
Moments of enjoyment that I'd never trade but moments that it kills me to know might just fade.
Maybe I'll keep some seashells to remind me of the moments I spent with you.

Run run run Mr Gump,
make a little stop for an emotional dump,
flora and fawning,
terrorise with love bombing,
thinking I'm sly but just simping,
not whole so myself I be pimping,
no entourage just self sabotage,
thankful for those that saw through my mirage,
my history shows part victim more vilain,
may it end in victory.

I'll leave a trail if I get out the forest,
use whatever light I've got left to make sure the next gen's set.
goodbye to the shame and the lie,
death to being a nice guy,
no need to hide from my shadow side.

Part of my name means to step,
trying to find my feet,
can't save my rep,
hollow chest despite the bench press,
finding fuel so the next gen's set,
all for the fam like Vin diesel,
often times I'm very cheesy,
life and its lemons might just squeeze me.

Thankful for those who stay,
give me hope for a brighter day.

Crazy to think,
that deity would sink,
down to our brink,
to bring back the link that was lost between the clay and the Potter at quite a great cost.

As they strayed from their mould,
bowed down before gold,
still carrying His image,
they scurried and scrimaged,
looking for life in places outside of it's source,
like looking for light apart from the Sun.

He saw their conundrum,
so He sent His son,
in the most perplexing form,
an innocent child.

Kings trembled at the news,
a certain Herod saught for all firstborn boys to be killed as he desperately clinged to his power.

Nothing could stop the reign of the Son of man,
he grew to be a carpenter,
a humble servant,
the epitaph of meek strength,
the fullness of God in the flesh of a man.