Tell Me About Your Prophet!

He who receives a Prophet in the name of a Prophet shall receive a Prophet’s reward~~Mathew 10:41


My Prophet is Elvis Mbonye. I met or actually got to know about him way back in 2013. Those days, fellowship was hosted at Open House on Buganda road. My mom also got know about him through a friend and when she first went there, the worship took her to heaven. That was her turning point. Never again did she spend Tuesdays fwaa. She had received heavenly plot. So since her daughter was a fresher at Campus and was doing a lot of idling after lectures, she invited her(me) there. Fellowship,in this case the idea of church on a Tuesday didn’t seem fancy or even welcome. I didn’t want to be labeled “thou art soo holy”. So I came up with all sorts of excuses really.

Her next baits are ones that moved me actually. She said this fellowship was frequented by only corporate men and since we were now in the age to date officially, these men sold out to Christ would be an ideal choice(Insert laugh). When I shared this idea to my roommate and best-friend Daisy, her excitement almost blew our hostel roof off. Mom had equally said, every Tuesday, transport and any other miscellaneous charges were on her account. This was a great deal. So the next Tuesday, we were set to attend– to see these men and to get pocket money!!

When Daisy and I walked into open house the next Tuesday, the first thing that hit us was how our clothes didn’t fit in here.. My God, the people that came here were very corporately smart, legit and the English was more Britain than Ugandan. They even looked more taller which made us feel like midgets.. We stayed by the door a while until an usher walked toward us. She smiled so beautifully and asked “is it your first time to come fellowship with us?”, We affirmed. She then hugged us, handed us a bottle of mineral water each, envelopes and walked us to our seats. We felt like VIP. That is when the music started playing.. I have never felt so much heaven in one place… I wondered whether I was attending a jazz concert. This music was so good.. The kind that you only find at pompous concerts and tea parties. But here it was in church!! As a lover of such music, this was the bit my heart was first wooed into this unusual atmosphere.

In walked Prophet.. He took a seat at the front as the choir carried on in high praises and later worship. In all honesty, when Prophet preached first, I didn’t get a thing. People around me laughed at jokes I either didn’t get or didn’t find funny.(Like I missed it like that).. Meanwhile, Daisy had a strong bias. This is a story she even no-longer wants to tell… Like how???

We came not very often, only on days when we wanted that financial boost from mom. We got into service halfway the sermon and in a few minutes, Prophet would conclude. And off we would go.. No word whatsoever. Just a tad more rich to buy promotional pizza. We spent a whole semester void of this place.. We weren’t buying into any profusely tongue-speaking people… However, the next time we went, fellowship had shifted to Labonita and the number of people in attendance had increased. When Prophet preached that day, we wanted more. Back at hostel, we mediated on how silly we were to have spent the time we spent upholding ego and naivety. So when next Tuesday came, we scampered to Labonitah. The numbers of people attending started sky-rocketing. The word every Tuesday became bread so it didn’t matter whether we sat on the stairs or in the carpeted corridor.. (We hoped for a prophesy from the Man of God).

Since then, I don’t remember ever missing Zoe fellowship. (Well save for the times, Internship in Gulu called–those school things!!)

What are some of the things that intrigue you about Prophet Elvis?

His lifestyle…. My God, you should listen to his kind of inconveniences!! 

His laugh… I could hear him laugh and I would go on a roll… His jokes…. My God his jokes are spiritually funny. Like you will laugh with no conviction whatsoever.

I am equally intrigued by how he has sought the face of God diligently without letting obstacles deter him and every Tuesday, he is sharing a principle on how to get intimate with God. Over time we have seen leaders of spiritual institutions keep to themselves certain principles to live a fully satisfied life—maybe because they think when they exhaust everything, their flocks will then leave them but like Daisy likes to say—‘If you know your spiritual stand with God, why should you be worried about people leaving your church? Like why would you care about numbers unless you are motivated by stagnation and selfishness?”

The reason people love Prophet Elvis(ohh yeah, you have no option but love Papa) is because long before, people have been looking for a deeper perspective of who God is and lo and behold—God anoints a man that shall be/is his mouthpiece.

I like when he boasts.. See boasting is not bad,, depends what about or in whom you boast!! I have learnt to boast about the things God does whether for me or the people around me.. Like yeahh… My life is on a another level because I know who I am and whose I belong to.

How has prophet Elvis Changed your life?

First off, I shall state that he is my Spiritual father… Now as a child, you learn by imitation and who better to imitate than a man that has coffee talks with our savior?(If I may put it).

Before Prophet Elvis, I read the bible for religion’s sake. I am quite sure the angels rolled their eyes and told me I was missing the point(Which of-course I couldn’t hear)..Like the scriptures Prophet reads now, I HAVE READ BEFORE but my God!! I missed the revelation they carried. All that while.. It is baffling how he will explain a scripture that you read before… Like my God—I want this kind of spirituality.

I could write forever about my spiritual father because I love him very much♥♥.. he is a gift… And gifts are not to be taken lightly…. My story can’t be written without entangling it to his. I love God♥♥♥♥ with an obsession only known to him and I. It is a good feeling to be in love and its most rewarding if it is with the Lord God most high.

People that bring an impact that forever changes your life are worth celebration and today, being his birthday, I thought back to how I met this man that is very unapologetic about the anointing he carries because this very anointing is shaking the city that once reeked of religiousness or should I say “spiritual” hypocrites that are against the very revival they prayed for!!… For more insight, refer to Prophets and Prophesy and Does The World Need Prophets?

Happiest Birthday to My Prophet Elvis Mbonye. I celebrate Him today!!

Ah me my life is no-longer one of fwaaa…. Everything, I see with the spiritual eyes and this is like the coolest thing ever… I am Heaven’s Spectacle. The very Remnant Of God.

P.S–>> Hi Reader, tomorrow fellowship is on at Kyadondo Rugby grounds, .. bYE!!♥♥♥♥♥


Does The World Need Prophets?~Part 2

In my opinion yes! Very, very much.

The scripture in Ephesians 4: 11 (KJV)says–And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers. ! So yes, if they are mentioned in the scriptures, then Prophets have a role to play in the lives of people.

Like I stated in Prophets and Prophesy, Prophets have revelatory abilities. The Prophet’s office is one of the chiefest because they are men of marvelous wisdom. They reveal that which the Lord intends for a nation, a city and a person.

Prophets in the old age revealed what was to come and saved nations and people’s lives. This statement does not in anyway disqualify the prophets of this new age. If you have been blessed enough to hear from a prophet, you will see that whatever they prophesy, unto people, those things happen.

What if you had chance to know what would happen to you tomorrow, would you?

I have encountered people that do not want anything to do with prophets because these men with the gifting to see past, present and future will reveal secrets they want hidden. True… If you had the ability, possibly someone’s negative side would come to you but is that what the call to prophesy is about?

First off, God never intends doom. Never!.. When a prophesy about an unfortunate event is given, usually it is because God has bestowed upon us a power to change that fate or that it may act as a warning, a sign. If anything, Prophesies qualify Jeremiah 29:11.

Prophets edify, exhort and comfort. And these are the very characters of God. God will not approach you with “I know what you did last summer” on the contrary, God approaches you in Love. He knows what you did but he decides to overlook it. (If you could acquaint yourself to the story of Cain and Abel. God approached Cain in Love, comforting him~ well this was before he killed Abel).

Can you imagine the God that knows all affairs of earth knew that Adam and Eve would eat of the forbidden fruit but still decided to create them? That same God came to meet Adam after the fall and asked him, “Adam where are you? Why do you hide from me? God knew what they had done but he didn’t dwell on it too much so that the very fellowship he had with them wouldn’t fade away. Unfortunately Adam and Eve, like all people distanced themselves away from God. They forgot the relationship with God and treated him with fear. Isn’t this what we do with most prophets?

To know your future helps you align with the path of life that leads you there. A prophet prophesied the killing of J.F Kennedy. This prophet reached out to him but like all people that do not believe in prophesy, he took it lightly and like the details she had tried to relay out to him about his death, all these came to pass—same day!

Prophets are supposed to bring you to a mutual footing with God. Prophets like clouds, tell the changing of seasons. Like I stated in Part 1, the men that came before pertaining to be “prophets” tainted this office and now every man that comes with prophetic abilities, whoever says they met with Jesus, we are quick to call them false.

God’s news is always good news pertaining to His people. He created us in His image, there is no way He would bring doom to us~~~therefore anything that contradicts this fact is a lie. 

 I would love to hear from you, Does the world need prophets? Do you need a prophet in your life? 

Prophets and Prophesy~~Part 1

Who is a prophet?

Often times, people have indulged me with this question and I always shared, a prophet tells prophecies and usually the question that follows is, “how different is a prophet from a pastor?” In the past, I got away with a lot of ummh and you knows but I have come to learn of this difference and please if you may, take a seat as I share my findings.

A prophet has revelatory abilities. He reveals what is to happen in the future. The difference between a prophet and fore-tellers or psychics is that a prophet is the visible voice of God(he/she speaks the mind of God). The latter people(psychics/fore-tellers), I don’t know their tricks… They aren’t my target people.

You realize that in these days, it is hard for people to believe in prophecy or the people ordained prophets(even church leaders) because the people that assumed this title before either conned people dry or all they did was usher out a bunch of declarations>> This explains why people ask as to whether there is a difference between prophets and pastors.


A prophesy is way different from a declaration. To say that “I will be rich in future” is a declaration. For a servant of God to tell you that God recognizes your talent in say writing and says that you should focus on it because it is going to take you places is a prophesy”.

I once was submitted under a pastor who amongst the many growing fellowships in town, warned that we should be careful about them because they were cults. However one thing that he stated that still rings as advise to some of the decisions I make was “Give things time, only time can prove if things are truthful. You wouldn’t want to be on the side that is fighting a revival that God intends—1 Corinthians 4: 5. It stuck! And I must state that time has proved certain things. There are just some people who think have a discerning spirit but what they really have is an overly suspicious mind. Like you see things unfold, things even an unbeliever will call miracles unfold but you still decide to let your suspicion blind you. 

Christians have adopted the habit of reciting scriptures without interfacing with the God behind the scriptures~~ “I have the mind of God, the power that raised Christ from the dead lives in me” but the only description we would give an assessment of their lives is limitations, they hold back…

Now if I may ask, which physical power could raise a dead person to life unless that power be spiritual and supernatural? Which God (the same one that just snapped his fingers, said let there be and creation fell in place) can be limited? Like this God only appears whilst you are in church but shouldn’t meddle in your relationships or latrine business (sadly, some people haven’t acknowledged the fact that God is really omnipresent~~ he is everywhere.. Watching all you do, when you are pooping, when you are praying, when you are eating more pork than you need, whatever you do (Even the things that I haven’t mentioned but are definitely running through your mind,, hehe Yes.. he is present).

The prophetic fraternity has been mired with counterfeits. And the book written by my spiritual father, Prophet Elvis Mbonye clarifies this more. In the book Let the prophets speak, he writes “ counterfeits or fake things are more like the truth. The evil one seeks to taint the evil things with beauty so that Christians can be swayed from the truth”. We spend so much time trying to identify what is right and what is false!

In one of the sermons while we were still at Imperial Royale Hotel, the Prophet said if I may paraphrase, everyone has an agenda. Everyone has a kingdom they represent. Through someone’s speech, you can know unto who their loyalty is. A prophet pursuing God’s agenda will definitely point you to the God they serve whilst the “false prophet” will say and do everything to point you to the god they equally serve.

Yesterday, I went to an office.. I had taken a file to be signed/stamped. The secretary to this big shot had her radio on and she had tuned into one of the radio stations of a one “Pharisee”.. Ehhh… My God!! My spirit rioted. Who boldly speaks the way that man spoke? I spent a full 10 minutes and this very man was explaining how demons rule, he even stated Muyenga people have a demon of lugezigezi (what is this in English?), some places he gave the spirits of divorce, smelly shoes, what what… He kept going on and on. In this sermon, the light who is Jesus wasn’t shined. Not a mention of him. Just a mukama yebazibwe amidst all these telltales… Jesus must be sad for sure!! Well I am aware these things exist because scripture says, we wrestle not against blood and flesh but against principalities and spiritual forces but what about acknowledging the man who gave us the power to trample all of them?.

 If God is the same yesterday, today and forever will be, if that God spoke through his prophets in days before, what makes these days different?

Someone once mentioned that when Adam and Eve sinned, It felt like that was the last time God would speak to man but lo and behold, minutes later, God made clothing for Adam and Eve, He spoke to them and to even their children!! So what makes you think or argue that God can’t speak through his servants? Through you?

Kale Bye… Until the next episode about prophets and prophesy… 

Do you believe in Prophesy?

In Annet Kaweesi’s Mind: Dark clouds

When he woke up that Friday morning,

He asked a drink of cold water, quite odd for a man that hates cold drinks to start with

He was slothful compared to his usually excited self for work

I suggested he stay but he insisted, he had to keep his word to a group of students he was to address later in the morning

He dressed up, rather slow but he dressed up.

When he was through, he asked me to adjust his head cap. I loved watching him admire his smart towering self.

He bent down, on one knee as though to propose only for him to get his ear to my protruding belly

I had told him we are expecting and ever since he heard the news, he has been the very flexible husband helping out with the house chores and sometimes carrying heavy me to our chambers.

On Friday, he bent down and held my belly for an unusually longtime in silence, he looked up to me and said, “Whatever happens, you will always have my heart”. It got me so emotional.

I told him I loved him back and adopted the rush manner. “Let me go see how far the children have gotten into preparing for school” I told him

I left the bedroom but aware that he was getting down on his knees beside the bed to say his morning prayer.

I left for the kids’ bedroom; there was too much fumble in there. Nothing is settled without a fight or a scream or a sarcastic laugh.

The kids and I found him already settled at the dining table. Making his tongue aware of the cooked delicacies I had laid out for him.

In my state, I still cooked for him because he said nobody cooked better than I did. He ate his breakfast amidst teasing and daddy this and daddy that!

He stood up and announced “Children, today I just might return late but even if I don’t, I love you!”. He got hugs for that… “Bye daddy, Bring me ice-cream”. They each said.

He walked out the very moment he heard the car tyres screech in the compound.

He shook the hand of the body guard assigned him that day, Erau. He seemed honored to be on duty. He bowed as he shook his boss’ hand. Mambewa on the other hand held the steering wheel with such admirable confidence.

I watched him open the door for my husband. He flashed his signature smile towards the window where he knew I would be watching him from, his smile stealing my heart like it did when I walked down the aisle in 2006.

He waved, I waved back and then they left.

Black land cruiser with number plate boldly standing out in red: UP …. I was a happy wife, my family man was growing these ranks everyday.



5 minutes later and I could swear I heard gun-shots

Which thug has been caught now? I wondered. These streets are common of morning robbery with men falling prey to gun-shots from askaris trying to protect the houses they are assigned to.

My heart clenched though, it hurt in a way uncommon. My gut told me I should run out for curiosity’s sake.

But what would my pregnant self want outside on a chilly morning perplexed with gun-fire.

I stayed indoors and micro seconds later, what my gut felt was confirmed.

A mob… A mob at my gate… Many people at our gate and I was aware tragedy had made a visit… I got to know.. I just felt it..

I screamed… I fumbled for my lesu… Was my husband alright?

People were staring at me… They wore sad looks on their faces.. They were sympathizing.. Some are hinting about my pregnancy…I didn’t need all of this..

Out of the gate and onto the road, I saw my husband’d car, glasses smashed onto the ground..

I got near, I was panting.. My heart was clenched in fear of what my mind seemed to confirm.

I got nearer and the sight left me breathless, speechless.. I couldn’t feel my voice nor my feet anymore.

Blood….Blood all over.. Blood for ages…

My husband was bent lifeless..

Felix… Felix.. Feli…. Darling!! Nothing Nothing…. No sound..

Afudde nyabo… People started to say.. Someone held me…. Beera mugumu

Leave me…. Ndekka…. Leave mee….. That’s my husband right there!! I struggled for freedom to reach my husband.

My pleas fell on deaf ears.. People were taking me further away from the scene.. Its one I swear to live with forever.

Back in the house, I adopted a calm stature.. Our children shouldn’t see mummy so broken… It would kill them in all kinds of ways..

I hug them… I am trying to come to terms with the fact that I may never have to see my husband again, they may never have to stay excited at the gate waiting for their daddy to return home.

I held them some more, their eldest sister was at school.. I needed to have her picked.


Two days later and this sad truth is yet to sink in.

My husband didn’t return to our marital bed Friday night neither did he on Saturday.

Yesterday, Sunday was the first time since his departure on Friday that he returned home. With cotton in his nostrils, his favorite flowers stepped on by the various on-lookers and officials that came to pay their last respects..

I can’t feel our unborn baby kick anymore.. I guess he realized daddy hasn’t pecked him for a while now.

The doctor called to pass on his comfort but to also remind me of our appointment on Wednesday.


Today, I watched him, behind my black goggles, I watched him

Lying there lifeless like days ago he did not assure me we would make it to old age together

Everyone is gathered, some naturally genuine, some counterfeit and others for the benefit of media coverage.

A stray thought crossed my mind~~ What if they are here too? His killers. Masquerading among the mobs?!.

Too many people offering a helping hand but it still feels lonely.

My handsome husband, the country’s cadre is gone just too soon and yet forever.

I watch our young children play, oblivious of the impact of their father’s death, I carry a child that shall only see its father in pictures and possibly listen to countless tales about his bravery. Sad!!

“Till death do us part”~~We said that 10 years ago and apart has it done us… Just heartrendingly too soon.

Akinsa, the Village Sun

“In a world full of men and i still can not find my own” thought Akinsa.

She comes by this same river everyday at noon hoping a suitor would find her there, waiting for him to find her. Her maternal auntie, Lovinsi had advised that it is good omen if a man finds you at the well and secondly, if he does, he would immediately woo you. She sat and sang to herself. She could swear the weaver-birds were chirping along in tune.
“When will you come find me
I have waited for you long enough
But still at the place you are supposed to find me, you disappointingly never come
I am becoming too ripe for your liking but still you refuse to come
When will you come find me?”
Photo Credit: Google
Seventeen was soon catching up with her. Most of her friends had been married at sixteen and now their stomachs stuck out like jack-fruits. Some spent their days spitting like Jajja Asnansi. She had been the village sputter, printing mother earth with her blood-stained spittle. She had passed away ten days after the dak-tar at the new medico clinic had put something that look like a snake under her frail neck, given her small powdery stones to take when the sun was highest and when the moon had pronounced itself in the sky. After her death, people stopped flocking the dak-tar’s place to see what he was upto lest he take their lives too without their notice. The young flamboyant fellow who had come to the village with a bounce in his walk now looked like a rag. No one went to the medico clinic and so no shillings for him.
“Akinsa?…. Akinsa?”…… her name carried on along the little wind that had braved the hot afternoon sun.
“Akinsa my wife, Where are you?”
Aaah, it was the unmistakable pighead Kizito. Who else would it be anyway? She thought as she lazily adjusted to sit up from her lying position. Her man would come looking for her saddled up onto a horse like that man in that show, Latormenta. He would be muscled and would possess an aggressive look for her love. And Kizito!.. Hmm Msteew, she jeered at the thought. It would never be Kizito.
Kizito was suffering from the adult aftermath of having had kwashiakor in childhood. His belly stuck out and his arms were branch small. Once at 12, the wind had blown him to the ground and Akinsa wondered whether he was safe from that absurd joke because since 12, he had only added 2 kilograms. Kizito was in-proportional that even his voice was bigger than his frame.
Kizito liked to act like the Kabaka’s guards. Hovering around her like some starving housefly. Her mother and his had grown up playing kakebe together. The term to best describe them was “best friends”, gossiping about everything and anything together and planning what food their families would be eating. When Akinsa’s mother, Tayeeri had found out her uncrying child was a girl, she immediately swore her daughter ( Akinsa) would marry her bestfriend, Kudde’s son, Kizito. Then is when she started stipulating over Kizito, “Akinsa’s Mwami”. Unlike Kizito, Akinsa had outgrown the analogy.
Kizito approached her sprinting, panting like a dog. His hardly muscled chest heaving like he had outran a wolf.
“Akinsa My wife, mama is looking everywhere for you. She says if she lays hands on you, your cries will wake your father’s resting body”.
Akinsa rolled her eyes. This threat she had heard since she had failed to understand the alphabetic chart but still even when she was ripe for marriage, her mother sent Kizito to look for her with the same indictment. She rose to her feet not because she feared the threat would be effected but because she needed her father’s soul to rest peacefully. That un-celebrated hero had done much too much for the village like the land on which Lake Victoria lay. She started to walk back to Namugooye, her village, their village, their unbudding village. She walked faster for Kizito to catch up and when he did, she slowed her pace. She liked this. She liked to see him go through an unfruitful toil.
Akinsa was careful as she walked lest her feet be affected by the thorns of this shrubby pathway back home. Kizito was used to it perhaps that was why he paid no attention at all where he stepped. His feet were cracked like a ground in need of the relieving touch of rainfall.
As they made their way back in silence,Akinsa wondered how Kizito hoped to marry her!! How? The boy didn’t even have a hoe to his name. There was nothing mutual about their characters. They were so different like night and day!
Aunty Lovinsi had once said, “You know how much your mother loves you by the man she wishes for you in marriage”. How was it that her mother had and still match-made her with Kizito?! How?

This story came to mind as I patiently endured my taxi ride back home.. I don’t know yet how it shall end. I need to take that same taxi and sit by the same window 😀 

#HerTale: What(How) does it feel like?

What does it feel like to be a woman in the army?  Enduring sounds of bullets in the morning and late at night, cries of ambush and pain. Watching the little friendships created washed away by death, death at dawn, midday and at dusk. Being miles away from the people closer to your heart, having a sense of uncertainty looming over you because you are unaware whether you will make that trip back home. Are these women fighting for the nation? Is national peace and solidarity all they stand for? Is it the salary they want out of this job? Is it that they didn’t complete school or did all jobs desert them?

What does it feel like to be a woman ensuring law and order as regards proper traffic? Having to endure assault and insults from drivers in the wrong? Having to stand the entire day without rest under the scorching sun and endlessly rising dust? How do they manage swerve away from the car whose driver’s intention was to cause them harm? Don’t their heads ache? Doesn’t their hair smell a day after their visit to the salon? How do they manage to maintain their shirts plain white with that dust?

What does it feel like to be in a relationship with a man whose anger displaces the house roof, ignited quicker than a tingle from a caress, whose presence unnerves the wife because once his mouth is opened, glasses will be broken, slaps and fists effected and all she will be left to do is cry the night away in heart break, How does it feel like to want out of a relationship but be stuck at the exit door because you can’t imagine your babies crying in your absence or them being raised by a strange woman, you can’t imagine being welcomed by condolence messages about them because he has threatened you with a panga in hand several times.

How does it feel like maintaining a cool persona when it is evident he is cheating on you not only with your best friend, Jane and several other girls. To continue to serve his supper, press his trouser, freeze his favorite salad, wash shirts covered with the newest lipstick around town, to ask and be brushed away as irrational? How does it feel like to learn that he has children out of wedlock? Or that on your marital bed, he has extravagantly lavished other women including the maid with fiery lovemaking? How does it feel to know that you now have to share his attention? Or that he never pays attention to you because someone else has become the apple of his eye?

What does it feel like to have it all and one day lose it in a glimpse? To have an envious relationship, all the latest cars in the deportation market and just like that, it becomes no more?, To have to raise children single-handedly. How does it feel like to watch your husband lose a battle to some besotted disease only to leave a bunch of responsibilities to be taken care of alone while enduring neglect from family and friends?

What does it feel like to be wife to a soldier that has been posted to Somalia? Waking up to news like “50 soldiers deployed to Somalia killed”, having to check through the lists of the enlisted dead soldiers, making calls on end to find out if he is safe. What is it like to be a wife to a doctor whose life is unintentionally centred around the hospital? When to spend time together is like once in a million years, what does it feel like?

What does it feel like to watch your child succumb to death because of a drug administration gone wrong, or because you can’t afford the medical bill or food to change the state of starvation at home? What does it feel like for a child to wail through the night of a pain you can not take away?

What does it feel like to be subjected to ritual acts of female genital mutilation? To not only endure the pain in childhood but every other time you visit the washrooms or bring forth life? How does it feel like to feel ugly because the latest breed of men likes their ladies slim and slender? How does it feel like to be pressured into marriage? To be visited by a senga who will go on and on about how to treat a man, only to do as she advises but still be disrespected in marriage? How does it feel like when society jeers at a career woman because she has no children or family of her own?

How does it feel like to hear a woman passed away in labor? How does it feel like to know that on a daily, women lose their lives because of sexual abuse? How does it feel like if you learnt that because your father could not forego his cheating ways, your mother’s face suffered the acid attack? How would you feel if your daughter loved so hard, but a ruthless boy dumped her for another after he had deflowered her?  How does it feel to learn that majority women are still being battered but still manage to put on a strong front?

All this and more is what women face on a daily, have you taken time to respect them? Accord them their full dignity not because you expect to bed her but to genuinely stop her in her tracks with something extraordinarily different? Have you taken the interim position to ensure their stand in society isn’t one of absurd inferiority? Are you treating the women in your life differently?

Okay now, imagine you are a woman,


How would you feel like if for all your efforts, you weren’t appreciated by your spouse? Family, relatives and even your own children?