Caroline Bongo

My Story

Caroline  loves speaking out, whether with a well crafted speech, a song straight from her heart or most often with a pen in her hand. You will enjoy every minute of listening to her.

The Agri-Food expert by profession has always  been thrilled by the supernatural since she was little. No wonder the story of grace from Calvary thrilled her so much, she became a believer before she became a teenager.

Through a tough career path, entrepreneurship, training and coaching, Caroline enjoys most being a mom of six. Join her on a her humorous and inspirational blogs about her life as a Christian wife and a mom.

In the Arms of a stranger

A young Christian woman finds herself fixed between a choice to please the world or the word. Wrong choices open doors to  life of confusion, pain and finally a discovery of a God that offers second chances his debut memoir puts a spiritual perspective on the battle for the soul: bad and Good, Evil and right

As Informed here:


" This is what God can do with a life that is shattered, broken & abused."

REV. Mary Achero

" Absolutely fantastic "

Robert Burale

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My Grandfather waddled through life!

True Story.

My later grandfather (He is now in Heaven) waddled through life literally. It was such a joy seeing him walk. When I was born, he was still strong and walked in a certain way, I way you will understand shortly,

Why was it a joy to watch him walk like that? Because it gave me solace, and you will know in a few minutes why.

This father of my father walked like a penguin, for those that are not familiar with penguins, let me bring it down to your level, He walked like a duck, literally!

My grandfather is not the only person in my family that walked this way: half of his sons and daughters have it too. It's not hard to see one of my lovely relatives tripping and falling while walking on flat ground, on flat shoes, with zero obstruction on the way.

They are not tired or being irresponsible, its the waddle!

Now, I did not inherit many things from my grandfather, Just two. The love for a good laugh and the walking style. Hizo I got 150%.

I know you guys have had lots of teachings on generational curses, let me tip them for you now into generational blessings, Like my grandpa, for me including laughter in the WHO/FAO list of basic human needs is critical! Laugher is one such blessing that I inherited from him. Of course it was made wore by my mothers sense of humor.

Good laughter has taken through very tough patches of life!

Now, the problem is the waddle.

It doesn't really bother me at all, but it seems to bother the people around me.

Case in example!

As a kid, I hated to attend our main church services. I was good at Sunday school. But then I grew up and I couldn't stay in Sunday school forever, I had to attend the main Service. We grew up Methodists.

Now, I completely loved my church, but I have to admit the services could be a bit boring, especially for a creative like me. You have no idea how many times I counted the number of Iron sheets that made up the church roof or the number of "ridges" that made one iron sheet. FInally how many ridges in the iron sheets that the church had!

Back to my waddling feet.

in my teen years, I was always late for church (nothing much has changed by the way) and I am not proud of it. That was my 2020 vision before Corona beat me to it. The only exception being my CU days.

Before I tell you about my late walk into church, Let me give you a picture on my mother church.

Methodist Churches close the doors of their Churches once the service starts. That way when you come late, you know you came late. The worst thing is that you cannot knock a church door like a house for someone to open for you. So when you are late, you will all stand there staring embarrassingly at each other: Your obvious sin glaring at you. Even the road users can see you all there...You unrighteous latecomers!

Once or twice a Church Elder will walk and open the door for the ill-mannered late entrants, you can see it on his face that he is pretty pissed off. Sometimes that Elder was my father!

By the way, Mhas stories about my lateness. if this Coronization continues they will surely come!

Normally, I would come in after the second time of 'Immigrants' being allowed in. Meaning there would only be one person at the temple gates. Me!

The big doors of our church would be opened and I would walk in like I had been called to receive a prize. I would walk right in the middle of the church looking for a seat vacancy where either my family or friends were. I must tell you this is not a very easy process because again, In my church, men don't seat in the same row as Women.

Women and girls seat on the right and Men and Boys seat on the left. Unless you are a boy in your mother's arms, you go to the left.

Now, that tells you that the left side is completely off for me. Even though the men's side was virtually empty and the Women side full to the brim! For a long time, every time I got into the church, everyone stopped and looked at me! Initially, as a kid, I thought it was my village mates looking at me badly because of my great sin of coming in late.

Kumbe it was my waddling attracting everyone's attention!

Now let me describe to you the phenomenon. Like when I walk, I drag my feet like I have 20Kgs weights pulling me down. By the way, I feel very comfortable dragging instead of lifting my feet up. I am not tired, just my heels love the earth.

When I grew older and the people in my life like my mother and close friends told me to stop dragging my feet: I worked on a formula. I would wear high heels. Wueeeh! I almost died. Not only were my toes extremely in pain, My heels hotter than hot rubber, the tendon they call Achile was on fire. I gave those up

I realized though that its possible to wear almost flat, high heels. Yes, you know those heels that even a baby can wear, that helped: But didn't last. Eventually, I settled for slippers!

I would have continued waddling through life if I hadn't gotten married to a human so organized he even has a formula for everything, including walking.

So we will be taking our normal walk of life, reminiscing beautiful moments, building futures in the air when he will suddenly get upset "Please stop dragging your legs" I will suddenly remember feet are supposed to be lifted and not hauled on tarmac!

So I will strategically hyper-focus on my leg movement. One, two, three, even as I multitask on listening to what he has to say. Remember he has long forgotten how hard it is to keep my legs floating!

For about ten minutes I will be winning, even feeling slightly proud of myself. Then a thought will drop into my mind "Wait, is Hotel Pennsylvania a real place? "
And What about about Dracula. "Who even thought of Dracula, Could Dracula be a demon?......"

And with that, the focus on my head will end into a kids cartoon that I haven't even watched to the end. I will just be getting to BigFoot "Could Yeti's be real?" when I will hear

"why can't you just just lift your feet! you are attracting everyone's attention! He will spend the next ten minutes illustrating how to walk with your hind feet in the air!

I mean I am willing to start a support group for feet waddlers. " Cant we be left to drag our feet in peace!"

Unless of course, it started and ended with my grandpa and his Generations!
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