WHEN I'M GONE

This is a topic most across the divide have spent much time with-- when you're not around anymore.

American rap musician Eminem made this a title to one of his hit songs and in a line he says 'so remember me when I'm gone'. While ‘Gone’ would mean sleeping the ‘sleep of death’, it means as well, physically leaving a physical place; a job, a village, a country and a planet. Anyhoo, welcome to it-says.

One day in a youth meeting we were asked to introduce ourselves and say something ‘special’ about our persons. I was stuck for a moment; I couldn’t describe myself. The rest seemed to have understood themselves and the question. Since that day, I have been thinking, who is Dallienst Marshel? 

A few days before 16 February my birthday anniversary, I asked my cousin what she would remember me of. I wanted to know that ‘one thing’ for her that would make a memory of me. She said, without thinking too much, it would be chapatti. Yes, Chapatti. Kwani, doesn’t she like how I chew it?

If she was being sincere. Then the reality is that I cannot change that. With the many memories we had together, that was her ‘favorite’. You see, we can always say this and that about ourselves but someone else will have a different idea about us. What to us if fundamental, to others doesn’t top their list, when we are talking about a report of us. As often is the case. We can always try and write or talk about ourselves but how we see ourselves is not always how others see us or would remember us. This moment, I stand to be corrected, I say the other party would describe us better. Better or not better, either way, those around still are the ones who will be reporting our accounts after we have left – we have little say.

My cousin could have mentioned something about my beard, because I have some on my chin, but she didn't. She could as well have stated that for almost half a decade I haven’t fed on ‘animals’ and their products, my food being entirely plant-based. She didn't, I am the one telling you now. These are very important things to me, yet, chapatti was the ‘one thing’ she thought would be exclusive and after much deliberation, I think I understood why. 

I love chapatti. Yes, I do. Oh, I love this Swahili dish. Who doesn’t love chapatti? Blessed be thy rolling pin! I know how to cook it too. I think I deserve a hearty clap up to this point. The reason why my cousin and most people around me would associate me with chapatti is not how I chew it, no, not even how I cook it but simply because they are sweet. I can easily cook chapati, especially one from whole grain flour. I cook it so well that you would shed tears as you munch. I may have exaggerated there…but I hope you get the point. The most interesting bit is that most times, whenever I have a few coins and people are available, I prepare chapatti for those with me. This I have done even while visiting. I come to visit you, then buy flour (Unless you were expecting me and had packet in store) then cook for you chapati. Strange right?

You see, I have learnt that people will remember you for your SERVICE... Or disservice. They will remember you for what you did to them; They will remember you for the pain you helped them alleviate or the pain you inflicted. They won't remember your sense of fashion, nor your beard, nor your fearlessness, nor your perfume, nor your car, nor your body and anything else you possess, but they will remember how you served them or failed to serve them with those things you had, including your abilities. You may remember your car, but people will remember how you carried them in that car… or how you speeded past them. My cousin chose to remember a service – cooking chapatti, a meal that has a lot of process but I did it anyway.

You, I and everyone else will be remembered of something. Whether they were known by the village or by East and Central Africa, and whether great or small. You could be asking, ‘Why should they remember me anyway? After all, I am okay if I won’t be remembered, in fact, I don’t even want to! ‘. Well friend, the truth is that there is no escape. Everyone has influence and thus will be remembered and so will you. The sooner you reconcile with this reality, the safer for you.

A writer pens, ‘Every soul is surrounded by an atmosphere of its own, - an atmosphere, it may be, charged with the life-giving power of faith, courage and hope, and sweet with the fragrance of love. Or it may be heavy and chill with the gloom of discontent and selfishness, or poisonous with the deadly taint of cherished sin. By the atmosphere surrounding us, every person with whom we come in contact is consciously or unconsciously affected.’ She talks about influence, which may be a topic to deeply examine another day. But yes, influence matters.

Martin Luther, Nelson Mandela and Jesus Christ among many others are remembered because they dedicated their lives to serve others. What if we dedicate our abilities, any skill, even as simple matching clothes or cooking or giving advice, to complex as building bridges in the sea and creatively find a way (there's always a way) to serve selflessly? People won't remember your genius; they will remember how you blessed them with your knowledge. What you did. They won't remember your house; they will remember how you used to welcome them. Yes, they will have to remember, you can help them remember a good name by building a character and living a life of selfless service and a blessing to the world.

An elder once told us ‘No selfish person will enter in heaven’ which means those there and those who will be there are selfless people who love to serve.

Character will be the only thing we will take with us to HEAVEN and once again friend, those who will be in heaven will have synced to the rhythm of heaven, of service. And if we are serious about going there, we have to cooperate with God who WILL take away our selfishness and fit us for Heaven. 

God bless.

Let us know your comment on this below