When Silence Brings Loud Lessons

Two weeks ago, I broke my phone. Yes, my bridge to the world, slipped from my hands and landed in a tragic mess. Since then, my online presence has been on life support. For someone who’s usually present in the digital spaces, this sudden silence might have felt odd to those who know me well.

Yesterday, something happened that completely warmed my heart. I got visitors. And not the “I texted you on the way” kind. No! Unannounced!!! They just appeared like sunshine through a cloudy day. Some of my children (who I know will read this); knocked off from work and decided to land at my doorstep. No warning. Just vibes. And can we talk about the audacity?  Yes, of just showing Up!

You see, I’m not used to people popping in without a signal. My first words? “Are you guys on holiday or what?” They laughed. Then they said, “We just missed you and wanted to check on you.”

My heart melted a little. Here’s the thing: for those of us who mentor, we’re somehow through life’s course wired to give. We are the ones checking in, pouring out, encouraging and pushing others to rise. Rarely do we pause long enough to be on the receiving end. And when it happens? When someone decides you’re worth the effort of showing up for? It humbles you. It fills a space you didn’t know was empty.

Fast forward to today. Another knock on the door. Another unannounced guest. She had tried calling,
but of course, my phone is still somewhere in tech heaven. So what does she do? She shows up. First words out of her mouth: “Kusowaku bwa? Why are you missing?” she asked, loud as ever, before even stepping inside. I threw the question back: “Why are you looking for me?” Without missing a beat, she shot back, “Because your phone is unreachable!” We both cracked up. We talked. We laughed. We shared those loud, happy moments that only happen when someone decides your presence is worth more than a WhatsApp message.

Later in the evening, just as I was about to sink into my usual routine; thinking, mapping out things, lots of ideas in my head, my husband’s phone rang. One of my children was on the line looking for me:

“Ma'am, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Everything okay? All is well. What’s with the sudden interest?” I wondered.

He laughed and continued, “Ma'am Caris is worried about you. She says you’ve been awfully quiet and can’t reach you.” Now, for this story, I’ll call this very special friend of mine, Caris. It means kindness and love; all the things that perfectly describe her golden heart. I immediately reached out to Caris. When I explained my phone situation, she simply said, “I just wanted to check on you and make sure you’re okay.”

And that… that did it!  My throat tightened. My eyes teared a little. Because that small gesture, that soft concern, screamed a truth I had almost forgotten.

Here’s what I’ve come to realize through all this: sometimes silence makes room for love to speak louder than words. When life forces us offline; whether by choice or circumstance, it creates a gap that others can choose to fill. And when they do, it’s beautiful. We often assume people only notice us when we’re actively present, posting, talking, showing up. But when you go quiet and someone takes the time to check in, it’s their way of saying, “You matter.” Then there’s this other lesson that hit me hard: giving feels good, but receiving is deeply healing. 

Many of us, especially those who mentor or lead, live in a constant posture of pouring out, advising, encouraging, being the strong one. It becomes second nature. But when the tables turn and someone simply says, “I just wanted to see if you’re okay,” it humbles you. It reminds you that you’re human, too; that your presence matters enough for someone to seek it out.

And finally, presence beats perfection every single time. Those unannounced visits, those random calls, those unexpected laughs in the living room; they carry more weight than any perfectly planned gesture. They don’t need filters or scripts; they are real and filled with heart. 

So, to my beautiful circle: Thank You! Zikomo! Yewo! Gracias! Merci! Asante!. Thank you for reminding me that love doesn’t always send a calendar invite or write the perfect text. 

To everyone reading; Sometimes just show up, knock at their door, text and laugh loudly in their inbox because that's what love sometimes looks like and its a great reminder that we all need a shoulder to lean on. And that is more than enough to keep the world going.

Echoes of the Oldies; A Walk with Malawi's Music Veterans

Allow me to first of all introduce Rudo. Rudo Mkukupa Chakwera is a prominent Malawian gospel and Jazz singer well known for her amazing vocals. She is the daughter of late Isaac Mkukupa, a renowned Jazz Musician.

I met Rudo under circumstances I still can’t fully explain. But one thing is certain; We were meant to cross paths. We first worked together through Girlfriends In Faith, the mentorship network I founded for University girls. When Rudo shared her passion and vision for her Charity, I knew instantly: we had to work together. And so we started.

On July 9, 2025, we began a journey that speaks directly to the core of who I am, an Arts enthusiast, a Storyteller and as a Digital Creator. It's a  journey rooted in arts, storytelling and culture.

Together, we set out on a journey to meet Malawi’s Veteran Musicians based in Malawi's central region; legends who had been eagerly waiting for this day to come. It is the start of something bigger than a visit or a meeting; it is the beginning of a mission.

It should be emphasized that these artists are far from ordinary. Their voices and talents shaped Malawi’s music scene as far back as the 1960s. They crafted the melodies that raised generations; the songs our parents cherished and the ones some of us grew up enjoying.

Yet today, many of them live in silence. Forgotten by the industry they helped build.

The questions echo:

Where are they now? What became of their music? What does their future hold?

Rudo carried these very questions in her heart and from them was born a project to reconnect with and honor these pioneers. Ladies and gentlemen, these musicians deserve more than nostalgia. They deserve respect, visibility and celebration. They gave us the soundtrack of our lives. These are not just vocalists and jazzmen. They are keepers of memory; custodians of rhythm and messengers of history. Their melodies told our stories before we could write them. Today, most of them live quietly in rural villages, far from studios and stages, perhaps tending maize or potato fields, with nothing left of music but fading memories.

I was deeply moved to uncover the story behind one of the favorite tracks from back in the days: “A-Molotoni.” Hearing of it again, and learning about its roots, brought a surge of emotion; the kind that reminds you why you do what you do. This journey is not just a  mere journey. It's a calling.

Meeting and hearing these veterans tell their stories sparked something in me; curiosity, joy and an undeniable pull to be part of this mission. This is a mission of not only honoring the past; its about educating the future. The work with these veterans is in a way an act of cultural preservation and arts education. By among others, capturing their stories, their songs and creative processes, we will build a living archive that can inspire the next generation of artists and educators.

So, what’s next? We will soon find out.

But for now, know this: our veteran musicians deserve the honor that’s coming. 

This is not just work. This is purpose!