I have learned—slowly, patiently, and sometimes the hard way—not to curse a day before it ends.
In Kikuyu we say, “Ndukarume muthehya utanatuka.”
Do not quarrel with the day before it has finished its assignment.
Jemimah Nzola‘s story at the 5th ACABA Gala is the kind of story that makes this proverb stand up, clear its throat, and say, “You see? I told you so.”
Jemimah submitted her first book in 2022. It showed promise, carried conviction, and spoke truth—but it took runners up an dnot first place that year. Many people would have quietly folded their manuscript, sighed, and told themselves, “Maybe this authorship thing was just a phase.” Jemimah did not. She stayed. She listened. She obeyed.
She went back to the writing desk and produced a second book—a tender, faith-filled devotional for expectant mothers. A book written not just with ink, but with intercession, lived experience, and a deep understanding that waiting seasons also need words.
What Jemimah did not know—because Heaven enjoys a good reveal—was that her book had been moved. The moderation team, in their wisdom, had seen something deeper. This was not merely parenting. This was devotional. This was ministry. This was a companion for women carrying both life and faith.
So, the evening was not over for Jemimah.
Not even close.
When the Devotionals Category was called, and her name was announced as Content of the Year, the room witnessed one of those sacred moments where time slows down and purpose catches up with obedience.
When I later asked her what was happening inside her heart, this is what she said:
“𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙; 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑦 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙. 𝐼’𝑚 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒’𝑠 𝑎 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑒—ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑠; 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒.
𝐴𝑠 𝐼 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 ‘𝑦𝑒𝑠,’ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑. 𝑁𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑.
𝐼 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑐𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒’𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟: ‘𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒.’ 𝐴𝑏𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡.”
And there it was—the sermon without a pulpit.
So, to every author reading this:
Do not curse the day before it ends.
Do not despise the category you didn’t win.
Do not walk out before Heaven has finished rearranging things behind the scenes.
Writing is a calling. And if the breakthrough is not today, celebrate those who have it today. Clap for them loudly. Trust God boldly.
Because sometimes your book is still being moved to the right category.
And often times, the day is not done yet.