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Home Inspiration

He deleted my life [story]

by Sekka Bagenda
May 31, 2022
in Inspiration
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He deleted my life [story]
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I will begin by paying tribute to Hadijjah Nakitende [the late], and among the proprietors of the occasionally limping newspaper the The Sunrise.

I will ask once again the followers of mine on this platform to bear with me and to forgive me for repeatedly mentioning some names of newspapers here.

I am sure very few journalists in Uganda will get annoyed when I too stand here and spend huge amounts of minutes praising Hadijjah Nakitende.

She one time became one of the kindest-hearted human beings I knew. As editors in fact became determined to make me lose appetite in writing after I had struggled for years, taking the lines that I had spent nights writing for granted, and they would [very many times] call them half-baked, Hadijjah Nakitende gave make space to think and spacious platforms so that I would express myself undeterred [eventually].

I am sure the people that she surrounded herself with would see a young man, poor as I looked, and thought to themselves that I wouldn’t, accurately, write about riches, as I was about to start in that newspaper.

In these stories with the title above, I will be talking about people who did everything they could to make sure no line of mine could become public. They fought [and almost failed me].

Some of these men usually spent sleepless nights making sure that none of my dreams became reality.

I had spent more than ten years to discover that I would write essays that were saleable when I met them. They never knew.

In trying to delete one’s life, an ignorant fighter fights using archaic tactics and so fails. There is nothing for nothing. Whoever is up, there up the ladder, of success should be respected. To win is difficult.

Instead of letting me use straight paths and quite shot paths to where I wanted, these people made sure I continued to remain nothing as I was before meeting them.

I would like to inform the world that among the things that I consider as miracles is even this ability to spend less than thirty minutes writing an essay that is eventually shared more times than I expected when I was still struggling and a beginner in this career.

I was fought by men. My life [at a certain extent]  was deleted on my way to things.

I couldn’t win if, really, an invisible power doesn’t exist on this earth to guide men who are tired.

I almost gave up. God is there. Men are ruthless.

More articles to appear [here] throughout the week. (telling how)

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