When I spoke at the Book Launch, This Happened

Before I even met him, I received several calls and emails requesting that I moderate the panel discussion at his book launch and also deliver a book overview. 

I stood there before hundreds of individuals and delivered my book overview sermon, leading to a panel discussion I moderated, with social workers, doctors, and clinical psychologists, all in the space of caring for vunerable children and families, partners with the author's work.

Pastor Brian Kagyezi, known as Prophet to many at his fellowship, Pneuma Word, penned down his autobiography in what can be described as the fall from the world into the arms of God.

Titled 'In the eyes of an orphan,' this heart pumping and deeply stirring book is a game-changer. Imgine growing up with a rich dad who is able to give yoiu everything yoiu desire. Growing up in a household filled with goodies, plenty of everything and no notion of lack whatsoever. 

This changes when the father dies from HIV/AIDS, shortly after followed by the mother. We see the author sojourning with an orphan spirit of despondency, loss, bitterness and loss of identity. Iy is ony until he fully surrenders to God that we realise the only way to fulfillment is in Christ. The riches of the world are temporary and that our faith should be in God and not in the temporary finesse of the world.

This transformative book opens the reader to grasping how restoration is within reach, once God is at the heart of our journey.

Get yourselves copies. Each book will contribute towards changng children's lives.

Bless!

Bev

One Day Someone Will Catch Me Dancing in Front of The Mirror

 When I visit a public place like a hotel, restaurantgo th, cafe bistro, I will use their bathroom and if I am alone, will find myself dancing in front of the mirrors. After admiring their meticulous arrangement, sophisticated tiles, the opulent marble and shiny unconventional taps, I then check to see if I am alone.

If the coast is clear, I will dance. I will dance and imagine flat abs. I dance and imagine a thunderous clap from a global audience at my sold out tour. I dance and imagine the sequins shimmering under the lights. I dance in front of my imaginary back up team. 

We are a decently dressed dance troupe. We sing songs that are uplifting, that honour families, that spread good cheer and we counsel many of the audience members that come to us for autographs. We travel across nations and heal the broken hearted whose lives have been shrouded in despair.

And when we take a few days off for rest, we reflect, recharge and reconvene.

The bathroom door opens and I stop dancing.

Mexico '86

 It's 1986 and my father is shouting for Argentina, prompting me to run to he sitting room. I am 9 years old and it is summer in England. Our comfortable home on Purley Avenue is bright and daddy is watching the World Cup.

Because my father supported Argentina, I have been supporting Argentina or Brazil, ever since. I also crammed all the counries in South America and their capital cities. It is because of these sentimental attachments that I supported Mexico during the World Cup opening match of 2026. 40 years later and my heart is still drawn towards this country.

 Internet photo

It was in 2006 that I visited Mexico City and after writing several poems to capture my feelings, I revisit them at times. I revisit the memories that are still vivid. I remember the conversations, the streets, the shops, the sleet and standing out as a black person by the pyramids. I remember all of it.

Mexico beat South Africa and this was a personal victory for me, because 40 years later, I needed this win. 

This is my time for a win.

Bless!

Bev

This

 

Al  Qaeda

 

I am Al Qaeda

metal scanners are my foes; my friends

the scanner rubs me up and down                                           

it makes a sound

I take off my metallic belt willingly.

 

Your scanner rubs me up and down and rubs me up and down again

this time it I my metallic bra

please help me und the clasp

your scanner makes a sound

it is the metal in my garters

your scanner begins to bulge.

 

You take me to a room

your scanner beeps and beeps and beeps.

 

 

Previously published in Kwani? 4, in 2006

Mothers vs Daughters' Netball Match

Wholesome fun is part of our life's journey. Heroes' Day 9 June 2026, my eldest daughter's school organised a Mothers' day brunch together with a netball match. I had spent the previous week at home and it had begun to stifle me. I needed to get out. Sunday at church was Family month launch with a lunch and family discussions and Tuesday, brunch and netball.

I did not expect to have that much fun. It exceeded my expectations. I last played in primary school, or secondary. I definitely last scored in primary. And here I was, volunteering to serve as the shooter. Surprising myself, and I am sure others as well. My eldest is a netball player, captain of her team and goal shooter. Her team relies on her so much and I am super proud of her. My second born us a sprinter and basketball player. I am proud of her and all our children. We worked our bodies hard during the match. The mothers, helped by the teachers, did extremely well and won the match by one point. The girls of course were highly impressive, well coordinated and most likely wouldhave won if we weren't assisted by the younger staff members. Our center, a parent, played so well, and was our MVP without a doubt. It was such a thrill. Exercising, team work, having fun, cheering and ending the day on an extremely high note. Bless! Bev

Our eldest

 Our eldest, let's gooooo.

That age when they are learning to sit. Their legs aren't yet straight. They are fully breastfed and healthy and sweet. Bursting cheeks with clothes that don't quite fit around their tummies.

Babies are adorable and must be protected. Infacts are precious and must be cared for with love.

I have followed the story of the Turpin family who lived years of horror under their wicked, unfit and irrepressible parents. The children, aged 2 to twenties were chained, starved, deprived of hygiene and medical care and void of  affection.

The house was called The House of Horrors and thanks to the bravery of one of the daughters who was 17 at the time, and managed to escape, the children, most adults, are now freed and bonding. The parents pled guilty.

I have witnessed abuse in many forms in various situations and yet this parental abuse sits amongst the worst of its kind.

It cannot even be categorised under 'How not to parent.' It is right out of the devil's handbook.

May all children be cared for with love.

All my Life I’ve Tried to Fit In

 

All my Life I’ve Tried to Fit In

 

All My Life I’ve

tried to Fit In

I cut off my feet for you

to match your height

and even when I couldn’t walk

I trusted you’d carry me

but you left me to walk on my own

 

all my life I’ve

tried to fit in

I removed my vagina for you

but instead of taking care of it

you took it to your church fellowship

for un-sexing and de-feminizing

 

all my life I’ve

tried to fit in

I removed my eyes for you

because my vision was too big

but instead of giving me sight

you kept me blindfolded

and blind, foul and dead.

 

all my life I’ve

tied to fit in

I removed my hands for you

to hinder their beauty

hoping that ordinary people like you

would finally love me.

you used my hands as gloves

when you felt cold and inhumane,

which was often.

 

all my life

I’ve tried to fit in.

I removed my brain for you

because you said I think too much

and yet there was no room for me in your smallness

and you squeezed me out.

 

I became born again today

in this life

I don’t need to fit in

I was born to stand out

born again

to shine again

to feel again

to love and be loved again

 

Poem by Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva, 2021