Sitting with you both is like sitting beside living history.
Your gentleness doesn’t whisper—it speaks with a weight that commands respect without ever asking for it.
The reverence you hold for the Catholic Church, the way you carry yourselves without arrogance, without belittling anyone… it makes me pause and pray that God keeps guarding men like you always. Honestly, who would even think of picking a fight with souls this gentle?
You are what quiet strength and true self-respect look like.
In the book I’m writing about my life, you both hold four full chapters. You’re the main characters of gentleness. And that matters—most people don’t even make it to the footnotes.
I count myself lucky to know you. Kubanga, knowing you makes me feel seen, valued, and deeply special.
One of the greatest gifts my late sister Ludiya left me was bringing you two into my world.
And to my dear sisters Annie and Jane—thank you for holding these great men close in that beautiful prison of happiness, family, and unity. You’ve built a home where unionism lives, and you’ve given me treasure I can’t repay.
