In the split of a second so much happens that changes who we are and the destiny that is pre-destined for us. Sometimes the effects are so miniscule we miss them out altogether. Sometimes you smile at a stranger as they pass you by, or at times we falter. In that minute speck of time, you make friends who might change your destiny. That moment they probably needed that reassurance of someone who doesn’t know them, who won’t judge them or be critical. So many individuals, we spend time focusing on who we are, but we forget the people who did a bit to contribute to who we are. So many times, I wonder, what could have happened if that moment never existed.


Happiness comes from within, it is not something tangible. Happiness cannot be induced superficially through drugs or some kind of euphoric drug. No one creates it for you, because everyone is trying to pursue their own portion of happiness. Material wealth is not a precursor to happiness because there are people, who don’t have anything except the clothes on their backs, and they surely don’t have property portfolios yet they are happy. Happiness is the tranquillity of the soul. It is that moment when the spirit man, the soul and the flesh combine to produce infinity of peace creating a reality of peace and joy. Happiness thus cannot be measured in quantifiable terms. Create your happiness; find your place inside you that you can be content and that tranquillity will be projected into the world, thus creating your heaven on earth

A Season

Sometimes, life slowly passes by when we are in a haze. Slowly with ingenuity, time creeps on us, as the seconds change and silently become seasons in rotation. The once but brown, parched fields, slowly blossom into sheer magnificence. In the twinkle of an eye rainbows appear before us and yes life slowly changes in rotation. Sometimes we are like hamsters on the paddling wheel, continually exerting energy only to go back to where we started such it becomes we are unable to measure the distance we have travelled because without a measuring stick, we are stuck in a conundrum. Do we seek happiness, growth and movement or we choose to stay in the continual cycle of nonentity, only to come out of it with life’s bitterness carved upon our flesh, stripped of our youth and the joys that came with a fresh mind, running around like fools in the pursuit of selfish pleasures that live no legacy of our time serving our generation well.

Times change and even the seasons sometimes are out of sync, almost as if they are fighting each other to take the centre stage, cajoling each other to take the centre stage. Winter trying to upstage summer by being naughty, throwing her cold spells into glorious summers stage, autumn sometimes confusing herself into thinking that she is spring or spring and summer conniving if not simply getting confused as well visa a vis. Yet they still are seasons. Sometimes if you listen carefully to the silent wind you can hear the laughter of childishness from the seasons. It brings a smile and freshness of a never aging nature.

As you stroll over the sands, the sands speak with a million voices of what they have seen. Once you feel the sands and hold them in your hands, listen to the stories they tell. See, they have seen it all, the lovers behind a bush engaged in a tryst, thinking they are hidden, the blood that has been covered by the sands, and the dirt that has been washed by the rain into the belly of the sands. If you need a credible witness, speak to the sands, they will tell you nothing but the truth. They will tell tales of ages, they will run riots and they will entrance you with the many things they have seen. Even the sun sleeps but the sands will tell you things that happened in the dark. The sands can tell you the sweetness of a drop of the first snowflake, and they can tell you of the warmth of the hug from the first ray of sunshine, the delicate embrace of a goodbye from the last drop of rain, more precious than a tonne of gold and sapphires. A million voices speaking and telling stories in the silence of the winds, in tones so hushed and fragile we fail to decipher the laughter and the tears. We miss the great stories they whisper to us, just because as we tread upon the sands we take them for granted and see them not and so even the sands change too, they fade away into dust, hated by many they sleep without telling us their great tales and adventures, stories of great men and women that stood once on the pulpit of the sands with their great dreams, hopes and aspirations. Men and women who saw great things and took steps of great magnitude carrying the sands with them to try and fulfil containing all the sands of the earth. For out of the bellies of the sands, greatness was nurtured, beauty was birthed, ugliness was covered and dreams were engraved in a timeless capsule. See how many have fallen, dying for the great sands, yet we pay no attention to the stories of this great story teller.

Indeed, life can be and is something we all wish we can contain; a great science that even the brainiest and greatest of man cannot decipher the hidden mysteries and wonders. It remains that shadow that exudes beauty in the hands of the hopeful yet dread in the eyes of the hopeless and faithless.  noreen@2011-08-2


Hi everyone. It’s about 7years since I last posted an article. A lot had been going on, but I can safely safely say, it is good that I found the courage to get back to blogging and doing what I love. Life has a tendency of throwing rocks, stumbling blocks and whatever else the hell satan deems as ammunition. So I hope once again I will also catch up on all your blogs and reconnect with my fellow bloggers.

The People

We are a people that will never fight in vain. For each struggle, for each battle we fall but never to die. We fall because we rise. our strength is not in numbers, we have stronger back up.  We shout a war cry and our basilica is stronger than man. we at times are beat down, broke down, disgusted almost verging at the point of insanity but we never lose the plot. We are the people, a new breed, the new Israel, for we circled those walls of Jericho a million times and we brought them down. Kings and Queens in the end bow down to us. we are the rebels, we rose, fought, conqured. We never gave up. We are The People. Let us arise fight for our future, fight for humanity, fight for a cause, fight for our beliefs. we are defenders of the weak, light in darkness, members of the Brotherhood and sisterhood, We are Generation God


Dealing with grief is a very difficult thing. some days I wake up thinking I am coping with the loss of my mother quite well and then there are days I lose it and break down. see on those days I cant cope I dream of her giving me a hug as if she is saying it is well. I know I want to be able to move on and be the strong woman that she taught me to be but I am afraid of forgetting her. I don’t want her to fade away from my memories. I still want to love her but I don’t know if she knew how much I loved her and wanted to do so much for her. I always wanted her to live the life of a queen. I feel I failed her in that respect.

strange though I don’t remember how I coped when I lost my father 11 years ago. this time around I feel the blow is thrice the pressure. some say I am going through stages of grief but I don’t know. all I can say is grief is difficult to deal with.


The dreams of my parents were many. I stand in the gap of where they left their dreams and transcended. In me their dreams live forever. In adversity I rise, I dream. They believed and dreamt of a better tomorrow. I will fulfil their better tomorrow on their behalf. I will never cease to dream. I may lose my voice but I will speak in my dreams, for my dreams are the echoes of the things I want to say, wanted to say and need to say. I will forever dream and my dreams shall not die with me. Generations to come will live to fulfil my dreams as I fulfil the dreams of my parents