I've Gotta Sing My Song........

It’s 2:30 AM on Monday, September 3rd, and I’m back from the workshop in Arua. It’s raining and cool outside, and I’m all snuggly and warm in my bed in my little cottage on Plot 26, Samuel Doe Road. We got home late last night, and I just woke up because our crazy dog, Jackie, has started yowling for some unknown reason. I figured since I’m awake, I might as well make up for not blogging yesterday.

I was going to write a follow-up to my last blog post, about the somber task that awaits me in less than 7 hours. Just in case you haven’t read Saturday’s blog, this morning, I have to fire the mentally-unstable, thieving ‘ho who just happens to be our accountant. Needless to say, I’m not looking forward to it.

More about ‘hoes, in the African socio-economic context, in a future blog. Instead of mentally playing out different approaches to the daunting task repeatedly, I’ve decided to share some insight with all of my friends and family who think I’m absolutely nuts to be doing what I’m doing where I’m doing it. I’ve been in Northern Uganda for three months now, and can honestly say I’m feeling settled in. There are still a ton of frustrations every day, and challenges by the bushel, but I don’t shudder anymore when I tell people I live in Gulu, Uganda.

Maybe it’s because the Arua workshop went really well, and I always feel so gratified after working with African journalists. I walk away from each encounter with tangible proof that I’ve made a difference in someone’s life, and for me, there’s no greater high.

So I thought I’d use this post to send an All Points Bulletin to all my beloved family and friends who have been following this blog. I know you worry about me, and I bet you even miss me about as much as I miss being with you. But lately, I’ve been listening a lot to a song by Oleta Adams which perfectly explains why I’m over here, and I want to share it with all of you. It’s called, “I’ve Gotta Sing My Song”, and if you can buy, borrow or download it, you’ll be glad you did. With apologies to Ms. Adams for changing a few words, here’s her song……and my song…..

I know it’s late, but I couldn’t wait to call you on the phone.
It’s been a while since I’ve been home.
All of this was my own choice, since the Man upstairs has given me this voice.
No matter how long it takes, no matter how hard the breaks,
I’ve gotta use it, or lose it, I just can’t stand to refuse it.
Gotta do what I’ve gotta do,I’ve gotta sing my song.

Sing the hatred into love.
Sing a praise to that Man above.
Sing the tears into a smile,
Sing until I feel this is all worthwhile.

Sing it high, and sing it low,
Sing for me within my soul.
Sing it loud, and make it clear,
Sing so everyone can hear.
When it feels the road I’ve chosen may be wrong,
I’d be nothing, if I couldn’t sing my song.

By the way, may I say “Thank You” for the love you’ve shown,
All of these years since I’ve been born.
Some thought I was college-degree bound,
Others expected me to settle down.
I’m not ignoring what you had in mind, neither do I want to sound unkind.
Before I give up, I’ve got to live up to a challenge to do my thing.
I’ve got to cut loose the apron strings,
Oh, I’ve gotta sing my song.

(All I want to do is)
Sing the hatred into love. (Yes, I do)
Sing a praise to that Man above. (Thank you, Lord)
Sing the tears into a smile,
Sing until I feel this is all worthwhile.

Sing it high, sing it low,
Sing for me within my soul.
Sing it loud, and make it clear,
Sing so everyone can hear.
When it feels the road I’ve chosen may be wrong,
I’d be nothing......

(Said I’d be nothing)

If I couldn’t sing,

(I couldn’t sing)

My song.