Stop. Stop waiting.
You keep saying, "I will be happy when..."
When I build... When I marry... When I get that promotion... When I go to heaven.
My friend, you are already late. Heaven is not up there. Heaven is NOW. On this earth. If you have eyes to see it.
What is heaven? Is it not peace? Is it not love without fear? Is it not eating with people you love, and your stomach is full and your heart is full?
Then why are you postponing it?
Tonight, I want you to feel heaven on earth:
Close your eyes and feel this:
The evening wind in Kifuuta has just cooled. No dust. Your small radio is playing an old Kadongo Kamu song Jjaajja Peter Kidza Wakulanume used to love. You have not showered with hot water; you have showered with peace.
Next to you is not a certificate, not a status, not a "Mrs. So-and-so for society." Next to you is a SOUL. A woman who knows your scars. Her head is on your chest. Her breathing is slow. You are not talking. You don't need to talk. Silence is sweet.
On the table - not much. Maybe roasted maize, Gonja, steamed lamb neck, roasted goat and sheep, maybe fish, maybe a glass of wine, Cognac, Tonto, Akaligga, Bwakata, Kawaragi ke Mbidde, maybe just tea or Kifuuta Coffee with Kisubi and Mujaaja. But you are eating like a king because your heart is not fighting anyone.
No phone ringing with loans. No boss shouting in your head. No neighbor you are competing with. Just you, and the night, and the crickets in Kifuuta.
THAT, my child, IS HEAVEN ON EARTH.
We were lied to. They told us heaven is after death. No! Hell is also now - when you live in stress, in a golden prison, in a house full of things but empty of love.
Heaven on earth is when:
Your soul is not caged.
You forgive those who hurt you. Not because they deserve it, but because you refuse to carry them into your night. You drop the bag.
Your body is not punished.
You eat well, you rest well, you love well. You don't starve yourself to impress people who don't even like you. You touch, you hug, you hold. Your body was made for warmth, not for only working.
Your heart has a home.
Not a house with tiles. A home - persons. Persons who look at you and say "You are enough." When you have that, my friend, you have touched heaven without dying.
So tonight, as the weekend starts, don't go looking for heaven in Heaven, in bottles, in new Kasama of Zambia every week. That is noise.
Go and create your small heaven:
Light a candle. Put off the big lights. Play soft music of Lionel Richie, Dolly Parton, Abbas. Sit with your person. Tell them, "Thank you for being here." Hold their hand like it is the first time.
Because this world - this short, short world - will not last long, and when your time comes, at the shortest time, you will park and go without questions.
But this night... this night can feel like eternity.
Don't wait to die to go to heaven. Bring heaven down here. Tonight. Now. Beside you.
In Kifuuta, the Oracles say Amaaso go Muganda gaba mungalo, heaven is here now.
You are enough. You have enough. This moment is enough.
Welcome to Heaven on Earth.
The Oracles of Kifuuta
