Healed by a Smile

I got a call from my friend this morning and he told me about the passing on of our mutual friend.He died peacefully in his sleep last night. They found him in bed this morning with a smile on his face.

Babu’s smile has warmed my heart in such a special way since I met him in 2009.

You see I met him the first time on 8th October, 2009. Yes, I remember that day vividly.

I had been invited to speak at a forum in Kisumu, a huge group of about five hundred or so. One guy unnerved me. He was seated at the front. He was introduced as the head of some organization and was also head of the delegation from Congo. I guessed he was about sixty years old. He had been given the cards of each of the speakers.

When I stood to speak, he looked at my business card and then looked at me.

Removed his spectacles and looked at me again. Back to the card. Me again.

Slowly mouthed my name. Shook his head. Placed the card on the table and wrote something on the back of it.

He just stared at me. It was unnerving.

Was it not bad enough that my presentation was on homosexuality? Yes, I felt like a wet lion in den of daniels.

During the presentation, there were questions and as expected, the discussions got heated. Very heated. After all, we were discussing homosexuality and the church in Africa. But this guy never said anything. I could not read any expression on his face. He was not hostile. He was not smiling either. He was just staring at me.

When we took a lunch break. He picked his meal and took his place at a corner. He continued staring at me. He had still said nothing. This was getting creepy.

Why was he staring at me like that?

Well, meeting ended and as I was packing my laptop and stuff up, he came to me and asked what I thought were the most ridiculous questions.

He asked me if I used to own a smallish white car in 2002. He asked if I used a certain route to work every morning at that period in time. He asked if I used to leave my house at about 7.15am. I said yes to all this questions. After a brief pause, he slowly quoted the registration number of my first car, KAE 951N. This was getting creepy.Who was this guy?

Then he stretched his hand and I shook his outstretched hand. My hand disappeared in his huge hand. He was big and burly. Then his face cracked a smile. Then he started laughing. A loud thunderous laughter while still holding my hand.My whole body vibrated as he roared. Then he asked, "Can I hug you?" And before I could answer, he grabbed me and hugged me. Tight.

The only reason why I was not yet screaming is because there were other people in the room.

When he finally let me go and I was breathless, disheveled and ready to run for dear life,he said the most amazing thing. He said I saved his life.

By this time you could knock me down with a feather. Yes, me and all of my none-of-your-business kilos.

Then he started to explain.

You see, at that said time of his life, his only daughter had just passed away in the UK where she was a working. Medical reports revealed she had died HIV/AIDS related complications. She was in a same sex relationship. He had sent her there because he believed it was easier and safer for her. Homophobia was too rife in Africa. She had been all he had. Her mother had passed away shortly after Jenny his daughter was born. He was hurting and lost and angry with God. He wanted to die. Yes, he was a very successful business man but he wanted to die. Life had lost meaning. For a year, everything was mundane. He was also struggling with drugs and alcohol. He was 66 years and he was tired.

So where did I fit in all this?

Well, apparently, something I used to do in traffic made a difference in his life.

I used to smile and wave at total strangers in traffic!!

You see, for that one year when all was bleak,this guy looked forward to my wave and smile. I reminded him so much of his daughter. I had a smile like hers. He looked forward to seeing me every morning. I looked so alive and happy. I made him believe there was hope.

He sold his company, made a handsome profit and went to UK and undertook a degree in Psychology.

He then made peace with a God He had been angry with for so long. A God he had sought all his life. He was now running an organization that offered psychological support for those in same sex relationships.

This was the first time he had come back to Kenya since December 2002.

He said he never forgot my face and when he planned his trip to Kenya, he told God he hoped he would meet me. And there I was.

By this time,my tears had started to flow freely.Ok, I lie. I was sobbing like a baby. When my sobs subsided, I explained.

You see, I had lost my boyfriend in a car jacking incident early that very year and I feared driving. No, I hated driving. But I had purposed to go on one day at a time. So every morning, I woke up and said, "The joy of the Lord is my strength." I had to convince myself even before I began my day! I would get into the car and smile. Smile to total strangers. Wave at total strangers.

I figured that as long as I was smiling, I could not cry. I had cried for so long and I needed to start smiling.

There were those people I met in traffic daily and I would wave and smile on the way to work.

Smiling at strangers was therapeutic for me.I could not be angry with the world if I was smiling at the world.

Babu cried. I cried. We had a bond.

Babu never called me by name. He always called me Malaika.

We kept in touch. He would call me when he would be in the country and we would meet for a cup of coffee. Always Java. Always cappuccino. Always Sugarless. He always chided me for having a sweet tooth, just like Jenny had.

And he regularly sent me text messages. Sometimes just one statement ....I am praying for you.

Last time I saw him was when he diagnosed with prostate cancer late last year. He had come to see a doctor in Nairobi and together with some friends, we prayed with him. He did not want to go through chemotherapy. He was at peace. He said he was ready to meet his daughter and his wife. He said his work was done. He said he wanted to go home.

And this morning, at the age of 79 years, Babu went to be with the Lord with a smile on his face.

In God's way, my pain had healed Babu's pain. Yes, we had both been healed by a smile.

You were so brave Babu. When we spoke and you were in pain, you always asked me not to cry but to smile. You told me my smile healed you. And when you were to weak to call or text, you used to text me a smiley face.And I would send you 2 smiley faces. You would send me 3. And we could go on and on, trying to out smile each other as it were.

So even today as I mourn your passing on, I will not cry Babu ...I will smile. I cannot cry as long as am smiling.

I promise to smile as they cremate you tomorrow.

Yes, once again my heart will be healed by a smile.

Say hi to Jenny and her mama.

Say hi to Charles too. Tell him I am happy. Tell him the story of how a smile healed me when he died. How the same smile healed you.

Yes, it is still a smile even as tears roll down my face.

Rest in Peace Babu!!

Chapatti People

Let me start by declaring that I am a good cook.

Now that we are telling the truth, I need to also let you know that I make horrible chapattis. Who said chapattis must be round at all times? And as fate would have it, I got married to a man who can happily eat chapattis for breakfast, lunch, dinner and all the snacks in between. As for our son, the apple fell from the same tree or was it the chapatti from the same pan … am sure you get my drift!

Before I admitted I could not make chapattis, I spent hours trying to learn how to. Sat at the feet (or is it hands) of those adept in making them. Learnt the doughs and dough nots.

A friend who is gifted in making culinary delights once told me that making chapatti is a relationship. You have to keep working at it. It takes time, tenderness and patience to make the perfect chapatti. However, she lost this student when she said the dough needs to feel my love!

And yet there are such people in our lives. It does not matter what how hard you try, with them nothing ever seems to turn be right. If there is a fault to be found, they will find it. In fact, even if there is no fault, they will still find it. They ask the nosy questions. They ask them loudly. Their words are hurtful and hateful. Their sole purpose seems to be to teach you, nay, to try your patience. They seemingly cherish watching their words make others squirm.

They will ask you why your boyfriend of 5 + years has not yet proposed. And when will you have a baby? And how come you are not looking for a better paying job? Are you not planning to buy a house? Is it not time you got a new car?

For some reason, your answers are never good enough for these people. They do not know that your boyfriend has already proposed but you are not ready for marriage yet. That you have gone through a battery of tests together with your hubby in your search for a baby. That the job that you have fulfils you in a way that money cannot. That you are saving for the down payment of your dream house. That another car is not in your list of priorities right now.

They simply do not want to hear what you have to say. They do not care.

You only need you to hear what they have to say. Forget the fact that it is your life … they know what is good for you.

They are only saying this because they love you. They only want the best for you. So what if they have to kill you as they demonstrate this! Real love is not for sissies!They seem committed to literally love you to death.

They justify their insensitivity.

Indeed, they uphold the principle of equal opportunity. They disrespect everyone equally. They dislike all and sundry. Everyone who interacts with them will get a whiff of their negativity, their bitterness and their anger. It seems like they are discontent with everything. And they do not stop there, they are not just dissatisfied with their own life they are dissatisfied with yours as well!

Sadly, they make you second guess your life choices. Worse still, they may even make you doubt God. You see sometimes they ask you the questions that you have been asking God. Yes, the very questions that have seen you pounding on heaven’s doors.

I have learnt to refer to these special breed as the chapatti people.

One of the reasons that I have not been able to make chapattis is because I tend to think that effort must be seen in the results. It is for this reason that I will gladly marinate ribs for a week and loving turn them every 2 hours if that is what the recipe says. Why? Because the meat appreciates it and the final product is testimony to my effort. Not so with chapattis. It does not matter whether I spent an hour or a week lovingly preparing them, our relationship is doomed as they still turn out wrong!

These pain-inducing people could be your family, friends or colleagues, there is no escaping them,they are all around us and you cannot avoid them.
What is one to do? I learnt from Dr John Stanko that there is only one way to deal with this people, label them EGR – extra grace required. Grace not to strangle them.Grace to respectively tell them to back off.Grace to be gracious even when they are not.

It does not matter how hard I try, I can never get it right when it comes to these people. And that is ok with me. If I am good enough for me, why is that not good enough for you?

So next time you encounter a chapatti person, slap on them some EGR … they will be more palatable!

Blessings y’all!