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Pain – Unexplainable

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25.07.2026 threatened to be a good day. For the better part of it, it was. My dear cousins, Davis and Annet, came by to see my ailing mother, and it was an emotive yet sweet time. If I have ever seen love personified, it was in the version shared between my mother and Aunt Hope, whom she fondly called Muramukazi—that is, sister-in-law. For more than ten years now, my mother's health has been a roller coaster. She always told Aunt Hope that she was at peace knowing that if she went to be with the Lord, Aunt Hope would be by my side—not only to comfort me, but also to eulogize her. That, however, was not God's script. A year ago, Aunt Hope departed from this world. Perhaps one day we will recover from that loss. For now, we continue to bandage the wounds it caused. Davis mentioned that I looked stressed. I could not deny it. I told him it was true; the past month had been one of the hardest seasons of my life. Every day felt like the ugly claws of death were menacingly taunting m...
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 Prim K. Tumuramye Growing up, one of my desires was to see myself maturing and getting into the world of independence. The freedom of adulthood looked luringly enticing. If only time would increase its snail-paced movement, I would soon be out of the prison of being a child. Childhood had its joys and pains.   It was always a bitter-sweet pill to swallow. Today you celebrated the joy of having no worries about old peoples’ problems like school fees, complicated relationships turned situationships and tomorrow you were on the receiving end of punishments and reprimands from elders that only seemed to know giving instructions in parables. The African adage that elders are never wrong made the childhood equation even more complex. Rarely would you be extended an opportunity to explain yourself because that was tantamount to looking elders in the mouth. ‘When I grow up, I will sleep and wake up when I want. I will also buy the things I want and eat only that which appeals to ...
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  It is November 20. The year is 2010. The previous day had been such a fulfilling one. I had been traditionally given away in marriage. I love simplicity, so I was a stress-free bride. All I cared about was the groom showing up and being surrounded by family and friends. All the people that mattered in my life had been present. It is all that I cared about. My heart was filled with gratitude. The night had flown so fast. By 5am, I was up. I needed to embark on the journey to Bushenyi for our wedding, about 135km from my birthplace. As tradition demands, the groom, in the company of our Go-between , Rev. Didas Natweta was on time to pick me from home, together with my bridal entourage.   I remember the details of the rest of that day like it was yesterday. The disappointment of a scattered salon lady (my over trusting husband to-be had contracted one person to handle salon, cake and decoration and such a disappointment she was), the joy of being walked down the cathedral ais...
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