Coffee with my younger self

We had agreed to meet last Saturday evening well knowing that morning/midmorning was off because all of us would be listening to Capital Gang, I have listened to this radio program for the last twenty years so there was no way the younger me would be free. The irony of paralysis and immobility makes me stuck with less movement unless I desire to be wheeled outside that is when I get outside the house. 3 pm was the agreed time and looks like we’re both sticklers for time because by 2:50pm, we were at the coffee shop. The cafe was in those new sprawling malls and the positive which is a rare thing with our buildings was a ramp which made the place wheelchair accessible. This was impressive ever since I became paralyzed, I am keen on access because of my limited mobility.

“Time between us “

The room was quiet except for the soft soul music in the background . A younger Mwene in perfect health sat with his shoulders square, face bright with anticipation. Across from him, a slightly older version—weathered not by time alone, but by experience that has reshaped his entire world—gazes back with steady eyes.

Mwene in perfect health: 
You look… tired. But strong. Is everything okay?

Current Self: 
No. But I’m still here.

Mwene in perfect health
What happened?

Current self: 
A stroke. Just one word, but it cracked everything wide open. It didn’t just silence parts of my body—it shouted into every room of my life. My dreams, my ambitions, my independence… they all had to find new footing.

Mwene in perfect health: 
No. That’s not possible. We were just starting to fly. The plans, the passion—you were on the brink.You were waiting for a fully funded Masters program

Current self: 
I know. I remember that fire, that innocence. But sometimes life doesn’t ask for permission to change its course. It just does. And you wake up one day feeling like the map was rewritten overnight. I think I can say that life is life and it’s become the chaos in life

Mwene in perfect health: 
Did we lose everything?

Current self: 
Not everything. We lost the pace, the power, the ease. We lost the version of our life where things unfolded smoothly. But we gained something else. A way of holding on when everything is fraying. A kind of love that deepens when words fail. A capacity for patience we never thought we’d need.

Mwene in perfect health: 
Did anyone stay?

Current self: 
A few did. Enough to remind me I’m not alone. But many couldn’t understand. That’s part of the pain—not just what happens to your body, but what happens to your relationships. Your image in their eyes distorts, and you’re no longer the person they knew… or thought they knew. Friends are the relatives we make outside our blood lines and the greatest relatives I have are friends, Last Sunday, Alexander and John Paul passed by to check on me, you must remember them from School days; the Mariana family which continues to walk with me, I can safely say that I have not walked alone in the past nine years.

Mwene in perfect health: 
You’re making it sound like survival is a victory.

Current self: 
It is. Waking up and choosing to keep trying, even when trying looks nothing like it used to—that’s courage. That’s victory in slow motion. Some days I want to give up. But I don’t. Even when I curse the sky, even when my body feels like a battlefield—I still hold on.

Mwene in perfect health: 
I wish I could hug you. I wish I could take some of it for you.

Current self: 
I wish I could warn you. But then again, maybe I wouldn’t. Because pain carved something deep into me—a kind of truth that only comes through fire. I found that I am more than my achievements, more than my physical strength. I am tenderness. I am resilience. I am still me.

Mwene in perfect health: 
Are you proud of me?

Current self: 
I am. And I’m proud of you—for the spark you carried, for the dreams you dared to chase. You set us on a path, even if life rerouted it. And from where I stand—battered, slower, but wiser—I still carry your light. Here’s a note to self

Dear self, be content and live ,I hope you can keep fighting even when you feel like giving up on you.Whenever you feel like giving up, remember why you started.I hope you can accept the losses and concetrate on the small wins in the recovery. I’m happy that even in the midst of the storm, you find a way with humor.I love that you write, that moment when you feel down, I love that the ink sways to the rythm. People may praise you but don’t let that get into your head. For now, you are a Fraud.I love that you have untethered your soul to be free from the failures of yesterday and of the day yet to come.Your soul being free enables it to discern counsel from unnecessary heaps of praise . There’s peace in the silence and I love how you do it. The irony of it is your speech impairment because you can’t say alot anyway.These streets of life can be cold, so cold but you have to keep going and learn how to swim, no one is going to help you but yourself.

The silence now feels like reverence. No need for perfect endings. No need to pretend healing is linear. Just two versions of the same soul, meeting at the edge of love and sorrow. The younger Mwene offers to clear the bill as he leaves and bye bye we say Que sera sera; The Future is not ours to see.