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Confession of a book addict I bought this book for the socks...or sock? yes people- there is such a thing as judging a book by its cover.

Somedays end at 10pm...but there is always a reason to be thankful and smile. #findingjoy #bebold #liveyourpotential

You can't change what's going on around you until you start changing what's going on within you. #selfrealization (at Nairobi, Kenya)

This day always brings to mind the reality of being too blessed with many fathers. hypothetically, I am to get married and the guy wants to ask for permission from the father... (he will have to- tradition)- poor chap only realises too late that he needs the permission of 6 fathers.... not 1! he would most likely start in WV where he will meet #dad1 Chuck then #Dad2 Lloyd Hill...I never knew men could cook so well until i met these two. They instilled me a level of independence I still wear like a badge of honor. Then it would be off to Ohio for #dad3- Fred Paschall. he tells me that I suffer no fools- so more than likely is the chap has gotten a yes from Me- then he is good to pass this test. I should also mention that fred makes the meanest NYstyle Cheesecake. Next will be to PA to #dad4 Scott. He is the one who took me to college- after having visited several colleges to find @malone_u as the favorite choice. Once he noted all of my favorite snacks- he made sure that all four years of college- I never lacked nutrigrain banana bars regularly. Here thought I have my younger brother who to be honest is no longer young anymore- Jon I suspect still thinks no one is good enough for me- so that will be a tough interview. Next stop, will be to #dad5- Dick... in NYC. Here is where I grew into Adulthood. Dick probably knows Eche bad college paper I wrote—-and the good ones. So Dick will be good to remind the chap that if he falls out of line, my brother Matthew can shoot from miles away...him being a marine and all. Then the final journey will take him to #bujumbura to meet 'the' dad.... aka. Bishop Nzishura Simeon. Sure he wants me to marry but better be the right one... not to mention the dowry 😥. These 6 are among the most important people in my life. All have been fathers to me throughout my 30+ years, each of them imparting wisdom, and showing me what it truly means to be a good father, husband and over all human being. They have, each in their own words and deed, taught me never to settle for less than the best. All the time knowing, I am loved and protected fiercely. #happyfathersday to all of my wonderful fathers

In between standing in lines for a new passport- got a chance to spend a few hours with students of Tujenge- a non-profit started by Ettienne- a friend and someone I have come to respect greatly for his vision for Burundi and the young people who are the future of this country. We spoke of my work with @cellulant, about finding your true north, what it means to be a storyteller and the role each of us has in building better communities around us. They challenged me to be a better ambassador for Burundi and create platforms for young women across africa to be continually inspired. #challengeaccepted #education #mentorship #lifewithoutborders #forafricabyafricans

In between standing in lines for a new passport- got a chance to spend a few hours with students of Tujenge- a non-profit started by Ettienne- a friend and someone I have come to respect greatly for his vision for Burundi and the young people who are the future of this country. We spoke of my work with @cellulant, about finding your true north, what it means to be a storyteller and the role each of us has in building better communities around us. They challenged me to be a better ambassador for Burundi and create platforms for young women across africa to be continually inspired. #challengeaccepted #education #mentorship #lifewithoutborders #forafricabyafricans

In between standing in lines for a new passport- got a chance to spend a few hours with students of Tujenge- a non-profit started by Ettienne- a friend and someone I have come to respect greatly for his vision for Burundi and the young people who are the future of this country. We spoke of my work with @cellulant, about finding your true north, what it means to be a storyteller and the role each of us has in building better communities around us. They challenged me to be a better ambassador for Burundi and create platforms for young women across africa to be continually inspired. #challengeaccepted #education #mentorship #lifewithoutborders #forafricabyafricans

In between standing in lines for a new passport- got a chance to spend a few hours with students of Tujenge- a non-profit started by Ettienne- a friend and someone I have come to respect greatly for his vision for Burundi and the young people who are the future of this country. We spoke of my work with @cellulant, about finding your true north, what it means to be a storyteller and the role each of us has in building better communities around us. They challenged me to be a better ambassador for Burundi and create platforms for young women across africa to be continually inspired. #challengeaccepted #education #mentorship #lifewithoutborders #forafricabyafricans

I love meat. Yes I know- love is a such a strong word... and maybe I should use the word “like” instead. Nope. I love meat. And like it even more when it’s accompanied by roasted green bananas. This plate represents one of my earliest childhood memories. You see my father loves the same dish- and as early as I could remember- he understood that his daughter had followed his footsteps here. I also knew that I could cry to express distress and he would sort out my issues. I know what you are thinking- daddy’s girl! No- I was not and have not been a daddy’s girl- just a girl who understood the power of kindred spirits. one evening when my mother was preparing this dish for my father- I went to her in the kitchen and asked for meat. My mother- the disciplinarian in our house refused- “wait till dinner” she said. Well I didn’t want to wait- the smell of the meat was making me hungry. So option two? Cry! I ran into the living room sobbing- and I mean the type of crying that makes one thing that there has been a catastrophe unparalleled. I knew my father was in the living room- he seemed to be in a good mood- the odds were in my favor here. A couple of minutes of howling and sniffing- my father asks “Divine what’s wrong?”- (inside smile here)- I wipe my tears- badly I might say- and say “ I am hungry and mum has refused to give me meat”. YES I know! terrible thing to do to ones mother- but I was 4 ! And I wanted meat damnit. My father holds my hand- walks me back to the kitchen- asks my mother to give him a plate of the meat that’s ready. Bless my mother- she adds roasted bananas to the plate. My father and I hand in hand go back to the living room - and eat our meat in peace. Oh and heart wrenching tears? Miraculously disappeared! #childhoodmemories #childhoodunplugged (at Bujumbura, Burundi)

I love meat. Yes I know- love is a such a strong word... and maybe I should use the word “like” instead. Nope. I love meat. And like it even more when it’s accompanied by roasted green bananas. This plate represents one of my earliest childhood memories. You see my father loves the same dish- and as early as I could remember- he understood that his daughter had followed his footsteps here. I also knew that I could cry to express distress and he would sort out my issues. I know what you are thinking- daddy’s girl! No- I was not and have not been a daddy’s girl- just a girl who understood the power of kindred spirits. one evening when my mother was preparing this dish for my father- I went to her in the kitchen and asked for meat. My mother- the disciplinarian in our house refused- “wait till dinner” she said. Well I didn’t want to wait- the smell of the meat was making me hungry. So option two? Cry! I ran into the living room sobbing- and I mean the type of crying that makes one thing that there has been a catastrophe unparalleled. I knew my father was in the living room- he seemed to be in a good mood- the odds were in my favor here. A couple of minutes of howling and sniffing- my father asks “Divine what’s wrong?”- (inside smile here)- I wipe my tears- badly I might say- and say “ I am hungry and mum has refused to give me meat”. YES I know! terrible thing to do to ones mother- but I was 4 ! And I wanted meat damnit. My father holds my hand- walks me back to the kitchen- asks my mother to give him a plate of the meat that’s ready. Bless my mother- she adds roasted bananas to the plate. My father and I hand in hand go back to the living room - and eat our meat in peace. Oh and heart wrenching tears? Miraculously disappeared! #childhoodmemories #childhoodunplugged (at Bujumbura, Burundi)

I love meat. Yes I know- love is a such a strong word... and maybe I should use the word “like” instead. Nope. I love meat. And like it even more when it’s accompanied by roasted green bananas. This plate represents one of my earliest childhood memories. You see my father loves the same dish- and as early as I could remember- he understood that his daughter had followed his footsteps here. I also knew that I could cry to express distress and he would sort out my issues. I know what you are thinking- daddy’s girl! No- I was not and have not been a daddy’s girl- just a girl who understood the power of kindred spirits. one evening when my mother was preparing this dish for my father- I went to her in the kitchen and asked for meat. My mother- the disciplinarian in our house refused- “wait till dinner” she said. Well I didn’t want to wait- the smell of the meat was making me hungry. So option two? Cry! I ran into the living room sobbing- and I mean the type of crying that makes one thing that there has been a catastrophe unparalleled. I knew my father was in the living room- he seemed to be in a good mood- the odds were in my favor here. A couple of minutes of howling and sniffing- my father asks “Divine what’s wrong?”- (inside smile here)- I wipe my tears- badly I might say- and say “ I am hungry and mum has refused to give me meat”. YES I know! terrible thing to do to ones mother- but I was 4 ! And I wanted meat damnit. My father holds my hand- walks me back to the kitchen- asks my mother to give him a plate of the meat that’s ready. Bless my mother- she adds roasted bananas to the plate. My father and I hand in hand go back to the living room - and eat our meat in peace. Oh and heart wrenching tears? Miraculously disappeared! #childhoodmemories #childhoodunplugged (at Bujumbura, Burundi)

I love meat. Yes I know- love is a such a strong word... and maybe I should use the word “like” instead. Nope. I love meat. And like it even more when it’s accompanied by roasted green bananas. This plate represents one of my earliest childhood memories. You see my father loves the same dish- and as early as I could remember- he understood that his daughter had followed his footsteps here. I also knew that I could cry to express distress and he would sort out my issues. I know what you are thinking- daddy’s girl! No- I was not and have not been a daddy’s girl- just a girl who understood the power of kindred spirits. one evening when my mother was preparing this dish for my father- I went to her in the kitchen and asked for meat. My mother- the disciplinarian in our house refused- “wait till dinner” she said. Well I didn’t want to wait- the smell of the meat was making me hungry. So option two? Cry! I ran into the living room sobbing- and I mean the type of crying that makes one thing that there has been a catastrophe unparalleled. I knew my father was in the living room- he seemed to be in a good mood- the odds were in my favor here. A couple of minutes of howling and sniffing- my father asks “Divine what’s wrong?”- (inside smile here)- I wipe my tears- badly I might say- and say “ I am hungry and mum has refused to give me meat”. YES I know! terrible thing to do to ones mother- but I was 4 ! And I wanted meat damnit. My father holds my hand- walks me back to the kitchen- asks my mother to give him a plate of the meat that’s ready. Bless my mother- she adds roasted bananas to the plate. My father and I hand in hand go back to the living room - and eat our meat in peace. Oh and heart wrenching tears? Miraculously disappeared! #childhoodmemories #childhoodunplugged (at Bujumbura, Burundi)