I DO NOT TRUST.

You are walking alone late at night, probably from the library or from a friend’s who may have not seen the need to give you a push. Earphones on and deeply engrossed in thoughts; you have a good thing going and you are savoring the moment. Out of nowhere someone taps you. First reaction, you freak, your heart beats and you want to yell but eventually you turn; study him for what seems like an eternity, and then you smile, giving no indication of your fear. You’ll be damned if you looked scared. And he will be like;

‘A lady should not be walking alone at this time of the night’ he says coyly.

You look at him searchingly, you can’t see much, it’s dark, but he looks calm and poised, there is a dignity about him, a quiet aloofness. There is a fat chance he could get you there safe and you could jump at this opportunity and follow him meekly, there could also be room for a quick enlightening conversation; a powerful conversation with him, sure! But naturally, you think the outcome could be different. It is not a service you could use. Also, there is no way this ends well for anyone. As I said you just never know with these people. It takes you longer than necessary but you finally say;

‘Thanks for the concern but am good.’

You will increase your pace and get ahead of him. Apparently he had watched you get out of the library or from wherever and he was concerned for your safety. If for no other reason, it looked odd; he felt the need to protect so he wanted to be the gentleman. However, recent tragedies; rapists, pedophiles and even murderers have been quite insightful on that and have shed light on not being too trusting. Given these facts we choose to look the other way and run. It could be lame and he could have been unfairly judged mainly because he happened to be a dude, but then, better safe than sorry.

Also, there were those times you had heavy luggage, it was clear that the shit weighed you down. You could use all the help you can get and so you wondered silently where all the gentlemen were; coincidentally this person walks to you and offers to help you. You are pleasantly surprised, it’s such a delight to know there are good people, but then he is a stranger, you don’t take help from strangers on the streets, why? Your mama taught you that strangers are not to be trusted, why? It is what it is. Common knowledge. You may as well have given them a gun and told them to splash your brains out.

You tell him you are okay, he doesn’t believe you, but then he doesn’t know you either, so it’s not his place to argue, he walks away. He looked harmless though, like he wouldn’t even hurt a fly. It is entirely possible he is an angel and our lives would be more colorful and fabulous with such people in them. But he could be the devil. The devil is beautiful. Believe. A good gesture it was nonetheless.

And that reminds you of your first day in school, just because you are a chick, you looked like you needed help. You were constantly entertained and intrigued by the number of people who offered it. Some of course had their own agendas, sadly for them you were old enough and you understood things. Some told you to go their rooms to get handouts, never mind exams were to be in four months’ time and it’s not like you couldn’t afford to get them yourself.
Wow. Just when you thought they couldn’t set the bar any lower.

Like how stupid do I look like to you?

Why on earth would I need handouts on the first day of school, no really, why? I am sure he is not so concerned about your grades that he’d rather die than see you fail, and for the sake of argument, let’s pretend he is honestly concerned, why would it have to be his room?

See, that’s the thing now, we may want to trust but we are simply paranoid, you aren’t allowed to stare at kids that aren’t your own, there is no place for you to touch and play with their tiny hands. That is simply creepy. I mean, if it was my baby and you were looking at it and smiling hideously at it in the name of making it laugh I’d be like, ‘what are you looking at? Get your hands off my kid boo…’ let it be, let it frown till It bursts but don’t make all those funny faces to it, just mind your own business and concentrate on where you are headed.

It is not possible to think of times when we were one big happy community. You can’t even afford to help an old lady; it once used to be kind, now it’s foolish. They could be the dangerous ones, you don’t want to help lost kids in town, let them find their way; for all we know they could be leading you into a trap, it’s happened many times, people use kids and old ladies mostly. Being kind is now weakness, you don’t have the luxury of wading into emotions and doing the right thing. It will cost you dearly.

It is appalling what we have become, but these, in fact, are just ways to look out for ourselves. This is Kenya my dear, you just don’t trust left right and center, you don’t need evidence to know danger; intuition is enough. Not every stranger you meet subscribes to this society label but then there is no way to tell the difference.

But if you still insist, there is only one way to find out; trust them.

WELCOME HOME MR PRESIDENT

Everything put aside, this should be like the top priority in everyone’s list. Forget that rent you haven’t paid again, for the third month counting, forget the project that is due Monday, forget this has nothing to do with you in whatever way; like zero, but if the excitement hasn’t won you over yet, it just might today or tomorrow.

It should be blatantly obvious that this is about the most interesting thing that has happened to Kenya for a long time now so being the ordinary Kenyan who does not have any particular stake in this Obama business let me hope funny things are said on the internet regarding this, you know, the only place we can all be self righteous, judgmental and anonymous without ruining the fun, so we should get to renting;

We need to get this off our chest in case we do not get satisfied by the visit or whatever happens during it, so here is to creating all the funny memes and all the creative things on twitter. It is almost like our entire creative process revolves around ‘how should we turn this around so that we also in our own little way make ourselves part of this big thing?’ If there was ever a time to show our crazy now would be a perfect time.

In all seriousness though, it’s not every day that we get visited by the president of the United States, we are waiting as a people, and we don’t give a damn whether he knows us personally or not, it doesn’t even matter. We are way over the moon.

We have already successfully managed to forget the fact that we have been neglected time and time again, for political reasons or not, still. This is one of those amazing things that have always managed to confuse me immensely. One minute we are so bitter at the fact and then lo and behold, the next we are kissing peoples ass like some kind of god. The last time he was here, my understanding on many things at that age was limited but I still remember there was an uproar after post election as to why he hadn’t visited or done anything to the country, right?

Personally for as much as I would like to dash into all this anticipation, I still feel like there is a part of the puzzle missing and it still doesn’t sit right with me yet. Like why would he visit just before he gets elected and then just almost after his term is finished? Am inclined to believe there is something there. Maybe I am a bigot and could care less about political strategies –or is it save the best for last strategy that is being used? If so well played, I have to hand it to him. But I still don’t get how people are overly comfortable with this whole thing. I don’t.

I have debated if I like this or not but after a lot of back and forth I’ve decided after all its not going to affect me individually in anyway, like how exactly will it impact me as a person?

***
This is so much like when we were anticipating visitors growing up, then and only then was it acceptable to use the special glasses and plates, it was the only time you would come as close as using serviettes as you could, heck. You would make the house sparkling clean and wait for the visitor, but mostly the goodies they would bring, that was the time you saw food that you only see on hotels menus being cooked at home.
*
There is always something disappointing about powerful people visiting. Back in Kenya high school, there was a time the then president was to be the guest of honor of a hundred years celebration event, everything was done to perfection, places you never thought could get cleaned were, people practiced dances for weeks on end to perfection only to end up performing for like 3 minutes, as I noted, he wasn’t really paying so much attention and he hardly even noticed the changes around anyway. So much for the effort.

People are always trying to please you but then if you have power you hardly ever notice, at least not in the way they’d want you to.

**

So now Nairobi is all ready for you, all the way ready, we wouldn’t want to sell ourselves short. We are a third world country, which means we don’t have much going on for us money wise, we know it, you know it, hell, the whole damn world knows it, but we will still want to come off as a people of refined taste. We will still insist on the roads being restructured and maintained well just to look good…not necessarily for us but specifically for you, after you’ve used them and gone, we can forget about them until the next time another president comes….we will probably allocate more money in your limited time visit than we would to actually deal with real issues …I guess that comes with having power, which I clearly know nothing about, I mean if Kenyans actually washed roads for their supposed prophet a while back you can only imagine the lengths they are willing to go for you, sir.
*
They demand/ request that you visit UON lest they urinate on a tree you planted back then…
As if you feed off of that tree, as if you even remember you had put it there in the first place, oh, please remind these people you have done a lot with yourself, a tree is nothing. That isn’t even the best part, others will commit suicide if you fail to do the same, yes, like those stories of when a boy dumps his chic and she hangs herself leaving a note written:
‘I just couldn’t live without you, am sorry, I love you, now and forever, goodbye.’
One like that except am wondering what the note will be written and whether or not you will stick around long enough for the sole purpose of attending their funerals so you can mourn their short lived lives and even feel guilty;

Isn’t this one of those things you hear and you just want to clench your teeth till they become dust? Seriously. It would be something else if those sentiments came from some village, it would make so much sense we would even send psychiatrists over there, but campus students? With brains and all, nah, we wish them nothing but a quick death; as a matter of fact if you asked me stupidity should have killed them already.

Does this remind you of that time some guy killed himself because his favorite team had been defeated? Did they create a statue in memory of him? Did they even know he existed? So why should that even be a threat to us…go ahead fellows and while at it let all the credit go to your leader who may have or not incited this idea in you but I hope your bodies actually house human brains that can actually think clearly on their own.
**
In other news, people don’t want you talking about homosexuality, like talk about the economy, the weather, hell, even come all the way and talk about dogs you left back home but don’t even as much as say a statement …woe unto us if you do, because they will take to the streets, as naked as the day they were born, grown men and women, naked. I mean, isn’t this the kind of news that makes you cringe and wonder where humanity is headed? All you have to do is say the word and we will brace ourselves for a disaster waiting to happen.
*
Also, there are 19 students who were expelled for allegedly being gay; they are requesting that you take them with you…that way, they will feel more accepted and the whole problem will be almost solved.
Yes, that up there is a quick update of what we’ve been up to, of how far we have come as a country, all moments have been leading to this…

*
Forget the limited time you have, we expect you to visit as any places as possible, otherwise we will go rant on social media how you did not give us enough attention as a country, we would want you to address the terror attacks yes, but we would like it even more if you took selfies too, you know, so we have something to show off, I mean, not everyone has the privilege of taking sefies with you, we need other people drooling and we need that fleeting moment of fame…it would be our time too if we had the chance, but our leaders wouldn’t let anyone steal their spotlight. They will be damned if anyone did. Either way what are the odds that you will interact with common Kenyans? Pretty low I guess.
–

If you don’t do that we will complain, just like we did with Lupita, we felt like she did not have enough time with Kenyans and this rubbed some people the wrong way. Everything celebrities do or don’t do is personal to them.
Meanwhile, am marveling at how everything seems to come to a standstill in preparation of Friday. It’s refreshing how we intend to stand out, so we trying hard to look the part. This visit of yours will give as an added oomph and in many ways help us…and don’t you just think of all things it’s a coincidence that he is Luo, leave it to them to exaggerate everything regarding class so if you will happen to go there, believe me it won’t be disappointing.

While the rest of the country embarks on the preparation, let me sit tight and watch seeing that none of this really affects me; as an economic student I am hopeful I will actually learn a thing or two from the summit or the visit.

Lets savor the moment though, enjoy it while it lasts, even if it’s a few hours; it could be the last time we ever get a black president from united states to visit us or it may go back to having white ones or hopefully Ben Carson will take home the title and we will do this all over again, you know, claiming this is his motherland and all..

That said, welcome home Mr. president, it will be a blessing in disguise to this country of ours.

This too shall pass…

As sure as death is, no one really gives it a second thought until it happens. No one walks around paranoid thinking that any second now they could succumb to it. It is not until one random morning you wake up and get news that someone you know has passed on. It overwhelms you; you get thoroughly puzzled to say the least and it dampens your spirit.

**
Oh no she did not!! You seethe with anger. The anger goes notches higher because you cannot fathom how someone so full of life can die. I mean, isn’t there supposed to be a certain age where such things should happen? A certain time when everyone is ready ad even you can see it coming so you prepare? Seriously?
We mourn as friends, write on their timelines, say what they did to us, how soon they have gone and how unfair life really is, we talk about things we did together, how much they shall be missed, they were part of the gang, how it will never be the same again, there will always be that ka-empty space, we talk about things we did together, places we hanged and people we hated together.

*
Some will get shocked, they will resolve to change their lives; life is short-this fact will slap you right on your face. This will remind us how unexpected death really is, and so we will write how we should truly live a day at a time, others/me will write a post about it. Time will fly and after a while we forget; we shall forget we said we would seize the moments, we shall forget we said we would pray always, we shall forget how brutal death really is and we shall get comfortable. We shall find new friends and create new memories and in the end we shall move on.

–
But a mother never forgets, she never really moves on, she is left with the aftermath of the death.
She never moves on because it was her job to worry about you; she would wake up at 3am to pray for her entire family everyday. It was her job to call you every ticking minute to ensure your safety.

*
Right from the time you are born, a mother will dream and wish only the best for you, she will dream of you growing into a teenager and then gracefully into a woman. She will want to see you flourish in your career and then to be there for your wedding, she will want grandchildren. She will also brace herself for those times you go rogue, when being a teenager takes its toil on you and you become a constant head ache. She will still love you regardless because at least you are there.

*
She will want to grow old and die much later on with you by her side.

–
It should never be the other way round; parents should not be the ones burying their own children. Life should never be like this, it should just never be like this.

*
It is a dream cut short, there will always be a void, that empty chair where you used to sit at the dining table and your photo on the family portrait will always be there to remind of what was lost. Her life will never be the same again, she will curse, some days she will wake up with a lot of anger, she will cry more often than she will let on and that would probably be the rest of her life. A heart break will kill her slowly in the inside; she will get paranoid and even more worried about the rest of her kids.

**
This will be long after the condolence messages have stopped streaming in, long after people have stopped visiting, after your friends move on and probably forget about you. It will be long after #147isnotjustanumber stops trending and everyone will have forgotten about the massacre of innocent students. Long after Kenyans have forgotten #weareone. It will make them sad occasionally but the sadness will fade.

*
She will still mourn, she may look strong but she will still break down when she talks about you years later. She will still feel the pain to be fresh like someone has just told her you have died that moment. She will put a good front and put her emotions under check with everyone else. But it will weigh her down every single day. It will still be surreal and heartfelt.

*
And so I pray for strength that comes from God to be with your family. May he comfort them in this time of sorrow and may he favor them always.

**
It sucks that you are gone, it sucks that it only seemed like yesterday when we were in high school and we talked about the future that never happened.

*
It sucks that your photos will circulate and videos will be made to honor you that you shall never see, it sucks that people will tell you how much they loved you but you shall never know. It sucks that the intensity of the pain of losing you will be heightened by the fact that you were so young, so beautiful and a motivation to many.

**
But we shall find solace in the fact that God will receive you and that we shall meet again.

PAIN

You thought it was forgotten, denied that it had even existed in the first place, you had a feeling something was eating away at you but you didn’t give it much thought, normally you are just fine living in denial, you never really faced anything, so you never got to the acceptance part, you were afraid;, afraid the pain would have shredded you into pieces, torn your soul and stripped you of all the strength you so much thought you possessed, so you faced it the way a real man would face it, you ignored it.

People mentioned it occasionally, they said time and time again you looked off, you had cut weight and looked emaciated and sad, but how exactly do sad people look like? Do they have a specific face that screams sadness or do they just look like someone is beating the shit out of their existence? As expected, you buried it deep, wrote a thing or two in some lousy book and burnt it, you convinced yourself that chapter of your life was over and done with.

That was a year or two ago, time just flew, life kept happening and you had to keep moving too…doing the same thing you do day in day out and trying to get your mind off of things. A man’s got to do what he has to do not to look weak, be weak yes, but don’t show it, you do not have the luxury of being vulnerable. You found distractions; alcohol, friends, sports, work and school, everything else is fine, excellent even.

Except for the unanswered questions, the logic that did not make sense to you but did to everyone; except for the days that never happened, the smiles that almost showed but faded as fast, the random tears that were never accounted for, never seen…the many times you got lost in thought; a lot of thought about life, about how screwed life was, how oblivious people were and how no one seemed to see past your forced laughter.

Except for those many times darkness was your sole comfort and you very much enjoyed it, except for those times you wrote and wrote…

Those many days you were afraid you’d go back to that dark place but you fought it so hard to ensure that never happened, those days the sun stood still for you, those days the hours dragged and you felt that that moment would freeze, those many times you were so sure you were never going to get through it but somehow you made peace with the fact.

You suddenly realize you were not happy then despite what you made yourself believe; you realize not even a million dollar will ever convince you to re-live that nightmare, you realize you were too busy doing everything regardless of how relevant it was to your life, life must have sucked then for you but it is way better for you now, you know now life can be much better than it was then.
Because you may have been in that pain, you may have suffered depression without even knowing.

It made you stronger, it made you a better human, you grew, you flourished and it pushed you to concentrate more on building yourself, it pushed you into doing things you could never imagine doing, it forced you to go out of your way, to network more, your career suddenly become more interesting than your personal life or you even build an empire and you are now watching it and smiling and are glad that the particular phase occurred because if not you may have never done quarter of what you have done now…
It is what pain does to a person; it brings out the best part of you and the ugly as well.

THE LGBT COMMUNITY

LGTB (lesbians, gays, transgender, bisexual) community. It is one thing that has been brought to light recently and has been making headlines for quite a while. The world is beginning to embrace this community; people are beginning to be more liberal and warming up to these kind of people. Nowadays watch any series; orange, how to get away with murder, empire, scandal, you name it, there is someone gay or lesbian in them and most of them are nice characters you will fall in love with them, why?

They are trying to sell that to as many people as possible, they are trying to make us think that this is as natural as it could possible get. It is a culture Hollywood is trying to preach and sell, that there is nothing as normal as being gay, there is nothing as natural as changing your sex because it’s no big deal and once it has happened people will move on. More and more people are coming out especially public figures to either claim they are homosexuals or to show their support for these people.

***
The most recent that had everyone including the media talking was the Bruce Jenner situation. Thing is, I have watched this guy for a long time now and out of his whole entire family I thought he was the sober one, he was so sporty and always put up a good front and no one saw this coming in a thousand years, when I first heard the news that he wanted to transform, the thing looked almost comic all together, and then I thought it was a stunt he was trying to pull to get more ratings seeing that he was now divorced and to be honest he was getting a little irrelevant.

*
I judged him, true to the human I am, up until I watched his special on E, I couldn’t fathom the whole damn thing, in these two episodes he was there telling his story, how he has struggled to find happiness for so many years, he claims that this is not a new thing, he has been thinking it since the 1980’s, and then he says it was too hard coming out so he found a distraction; sports. And for a long time he was so active he won several medals but there was still something missing in him, for a moment there I cried because it was emotional, I felt like I was walking in his shoes and I was trying to find a place in this world, I felt for the family, especially the wife, how it would feel if your husband walked in one day and said that he was done being a man and he would be happier being a woman, it would be ground breaking, I felt for the kids; I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, I felt it was a selfish decision, but sometimes you have to be selfish to be happy, right? and then I remembered there are two sides of the story, and that I am a Christian, I am inclined to certain believes that simply say In black and white anything like this is wrong, there is just no in between about this.
He then says it could be a good thing, he could make an impact in this world and make so many others come out of the closet; true to his word, within four hours of announcing this he had earned himself 4 million followers on twitter. He was also offered a position as miss pageant judge afterwards and was also on the cover of Vanity Fair magazine.

*
Yes, that happened people.

*
Try doing something very noble like saving a million hungry kids from dying and see if that makes you half as popular as this guy, I have no idea if this 4m people were so impressed by his antics that they too wanted to do the same thing or they were just curious why after a man has lived for 65 years, has kids and grandchildren and has been married to a wonderful woman for many years would suddenly realize that he is not happy and do the most unexpected thing ever, you cannot even call it mid-life crisis.

And my question is, is someone born so unhappy because of who they are that they feel the need to play God? They will say they are born biologically male but deep down they are female, they will say they were born in the wrong body and that God intended otherwise. They will twist the bible and interpret it in whatever manner suits them best. I read an article somewhere of someone saying that David and Jonathan were gay and Ruth and Naomi were lesbians in the bible, so homosexuality in the bible is allowed, and these people can convince you if they want to, and if you are not too much into reading the bible you will believe it.

–
On the flip side, this is one of those things that makes you stand in awe of science, how they can almost do a perfect job at something, after the plastic surgery, Caitlyn Jenner looked prettier than most people who have been female all their life; money fixes everything, even happiness apparently.

This however is not the case in Africa;
We may have many problems as a continent but this is not a third world problem-yet- we are too busy worrying about what to put on the table, how to take our kids to school, what to wear; you know, very basic problems, we do not have time to worry about if we are happy being the sex we are or not, or if we are, we would not even be able to afford the surgery, most of us. You learn to accept who you are and if you do not, then too bad, just cry it off at night and the next morning life moves on, if you are seen crying especially if you are a man you will be told to get some balls. Problems like bipolar are also not very common, or maybe they are, but we know how to suppress them.

**
However, people still have a long way to go, the punishments homosexuals used to face were too cruel; people are too bigoted and no amount of rationality will cut it; some of the punishment against gays included, hanging, stoning, decapitation, imprisonment, flogging and improper burial. You face discrimination about everywhere you go, church, job even your own family disowns you, physical attacks/extortion/blackmail/detention when you defy the norms, In Africa and Middle East, most countries found homosexuality punishable by death; in others you are sentenced up to a period of 10 years, and others are even sentenced to life imprisonment. Yes, I was shocked too to learn that actually happens because we are way too deep rooted in our culture, we are too much into not letting the western culture not influence us and that is a good thing but sometimes we go too far. In Uganda for example, it was banned and that saw the country losing its financial aid due to Anti-gay bill.

Activists are fighting so hard for homosexuals rights because no human being deserves to be sentenced to death because of what they want to do and who they choose to love, it’s a moral wrong yes but honestly to some extent I think that they should be left the hell alone to do whatever they want to do because at the end of the day they harm no one, at the end of the day they are still good citizens of a country; yes, prohibiting is allowed but when you go ahead and try to kill them then there is no difference between you and them. You are not on your way to heaven either.
It is so bad that they got buried alive a while back, some people even suggested that gay people should be burned in ovens to death. Okay. They may sometimes not share the same believes as you do, they may sometimes interpret the bible differently than you, so why exactly do they have to be killed though, why would one intentionally end another life out of spite, even Jesus would never do that, he once said he who has not sinned let him be the first to throw a stone, judge them if you must but it is another story to bury someone alive, that is just cruel and obnoxious.
Homophobic or not, is it fair that people should be treated the way they are? Is it even acceptable? At what point do we draw the line? If you feel so bad about it then preach to them, if they still believe in whatever they believe in then too bad…

ELEVENTH; JOYS OF BABY BROTHERS.

Every family wants a balance; In gender at least, if it were not for the fact that we are Africans and we have a reputation of getting many kids, most of us would preferably just have two kids, a girl and a boy, no a boy and then a girl so that the boy can protect the girl always. I wanted a big brother too, didn’t happen, but I got something even better instead, a small brother. Three kids down then a boy was born Most people I know after having both sexes will stop there and some will just have to make do with whatever they have.
My father walked in the house one evening, he had this priceless smile, the happiest I had ever seen him, he told us my mother had delivered a baby boy, I was stunned into silence, I had barely even noticed my mum was pregnant to start with, he was exhilarated with joy, I remember fondly. He said the little kid had two teeth already, I believed him. I was just ten so everything he said was pretty much the gospel truth. There was just something refreshing about having a new member in the family, fascination can’t even explain it enough. Would he look like my dad /my sisters/me or my mum, would he behave like any of us? I had gazillion questions in my mind. As expected the next day we went to hospital, you can imagine my surprise when I saw a kid who was literally yellow, I mean, yes my parents are light and so is everyone else in my family, but this, this is even better, he had a lot of hair too, up until his forehead. I barely held him, gave him away as fast as he was given to me, I thought he was too vulnerable, maybe I could hold his hand and accidentally squeeze him and he would start crying or my hands would suddenly be slippery and then I would drop him, so wanting to enjoy the moment I preferred to watch him being carried by people with skill in that particular area, my mum.

That was exactly eleven years ago, man, how time flies!!!

He grew up to be the best thing that ever happened to that family, he is intelligent and a very good listener, I know this because I confide in him one too many times mainly because he gives very sound advice, take it or leave it and also because, really? Who’d he tell anyway, his English teacher?

Of course siblings fight, a lot, you get so mad at each other and you say things, throw things or for people like me you just give silent treatment until you remember you are supposed to be the grown up, the mature one, the one who is older by ten years so you call a truce. I remember all of us being in boarding and when we closed, the one who brought him the most snacks would be his best friend, he would befriend you and suck up to you, obey everything you told him only until you got broke and ran out of intriguing stories to tell him, and after that he will no longer even pretend to be amused by your antics no more, you’d be part of his past he would then move on the next sister who’d bring something to the table and add value to him. That’s what all kids do at some point, right?
They will always be there to disturb. sometimes you just want to be alone, be lost in oblivion and not wish for anyone, not even a sound of music to interrupt you,, let this not be mistaken for mood swinging, I could argue this a thousand ways, and then your little brother jumps to you, you feel interrupted but they still insist with all these stories from school and how sijui which kid sneaked in snacks to school and how who had a mini crush on who; I call them mini because really, who even knows where their primary crushes went to let alone remember their second name, you just remember vaguely some light short boy who used to be the first to cry when the teacher threatened to cane him, but then he had a cute adorable smile, he had eyes too, the sort of eyes that girls reputedly die for, he also brought the most snacks to school, oh boy, gold digging didn’t start the other day. Just when you thought there was something new under the sun huh? then he insists you listen to him, you laugh at anything he deems funny, even if it’s not, normally it wouldn’t be hard faking to listen, I mean we all do it in class, the occasional nodding of the head when the lecturer says anything yet your mind is somewhere in IMAX watching a movie and the lecturer looks at you impressed, you must be one of the good ones he thinks…if only he knew how you have perfected the art, but with kids it is hard.

They don’t ever get why you go quiet, even when you have a totally valid reason for being hurt/pissed/upset, especially then, you could be in the middle of a family argument and tension is high, but they don’t give a damn, just talk for Pete’s sake.

This kids will always ask questions in the middle of statements to gauge how keen you are. You will say yes to a load of questions you didn’t listen to in the first place and this is how you will be trapped, it could be he has told you to give him money and in you just accepted without even realizing it. In case you have never dealt with kids here is the thing, kids never forget debts, they just never do, they’d rather forget curfew, screw curfew, but a debt my friend, you will pay it, and they have a way with tears until you give in and they can whine and nag better than a grown woman.

Now it’s been said before but it bears repeating my friend, kids are cruel, too bad if you don’t have a friendly face, they will always cry when you hold them like they can’t get over the fact that their own mother has handed them over to a monster to be slaughtered or something. They are twisted.

Mine I think mentioned he wants to be a rocket scientist, something to do with aerospace engineering, he wants to travel to Mars someday, this is for real, dreams!!, keeps you growing, makes you work hard so you go to a nice high school and a nice campus and then shoot, off they go with the wind!!! I hope his remain.

He is always too inquisitive, too curious, has a million and one questions. He especially likes geography, I loved geography too, I aced that paper back then and scored me an A; problem is, as soon as I realized I was never having a career in geography and I was done proving a point to K.N.E.C. I formatted right about everything, I can only remember something about glaciation, it had something to do with ice melting god knows where and forming other features that we were supposed to learn too, I remember features in the desert too, I don’t know when I will ever be in a desert and those apply to me in any way, and then there was map work!! No kidding, that was a lullaby, aty drawing cross sections using I think a thread or a piece of paper to make measurements. I remember either dozing off or me and my desk mate just switching to more interesting topics like you know, how Meru is beautiful, not exactly the most interesting topic but when it comes to map work anything that was not it was interesting, why Meru yet we could talk about shoes? Well because Meru was the area we were studying so we had to keep it relevant you know, just in case the lecturer pointed at you and you were caught off guard you’d say something spectacular about that area and you wouldn’t seem so off, just a little.
Oh so my brother would see a rock or a stone, and start asking questions about them; their names and if it was a comet that fell and left behind those stones. Okay. I don’t exactly know but I am not totally blank because i remember they were somewhere in geography but then I remember nothing, zero details. You cannot even speculate or anything, you need evidence, sweetie, not just intuition and so you just keep quiet. You hear the sound of your incompetence being made obvious to a little boy, and for the life of them they don’t get how you are in campus and still blank at anything, anything at all, they expect every question whether physics or chemistry or biology that they ask, you will have the answer on your fingertips, woe unto you who gets the first question right or act like you know because another and another will keep coming, they will never stop and you do not want to lie to a kid because whatever you tell them is the gospel truth, damned if you do, damned if you don’t. The best thing is avoid them, or pretend to be busy and then ask google later and give him feedback, accurate feedback, make it as brief as possible or it will end up being another embarrassing moment for you.
You may be a girl yes, like me, too much that except for the fact that you want to drive a white classy car someday you have no idea about the car or the engine, so you are willing to trust the guy selling it to you that he has indeed given you a functioning car, one that will get you from home to work and back; you don’t care much for speed or whatever it is men spend so much time scrutinizing a car for, can we just not exaggerate and buy the car already? Thanks.

If you have a small brother like mine it is inevitable; you will know a lot about cars by force, especially when you’re traveling and he keeps pointing at different models of cars; told you he is a bright one this one. Not only will you be made to have NFS and GTA (a game men of ALL age play) in your laptop but you will also be forced to play, not as an amateur but as a pro and weirdly enough you’ll begin to enjoy them. And then there is soccer, I am a Man-U fan; he loves Chelsea, the team that won the premier league, you should have seen his face explode with happiness, personally am not that attached I just know arsenal won the FA cup. If you ask me I don’t know the different between the two, can’t one just win the whole damn thing and we move on? These many titles are confusing me now.

And then you may not be into action but you will watch fast and furious a hundred and one times and you will be explained to how amazing those cars are and soon you will start seeing beyond colors and start knowing which cars are actually faster than others, you will start looking for Wi-Fi in school so you download documentaries about cars and men will think you’re cool but that is so far from it.

Boys.

These people also know right about everything, I once went to a friend’s home, there was music, Busta Rhymes rapping so fast to some song and the small brother was raping along to every single word, Eminem’s too and I was like you are in boarding school, you just closed, I look at him in an amused expression and then switched into full-tilt sarcasm; so when exactly did you cram all that, and then he could tell you what happens in every episode of originals, even the one that chucked a week ago never mind he’s been home for only two nights, dude were we like this growing up ? What generation is this we are in?

It’s a compromise though, I love his stuff, he loves my stuff, we will follow a whole season of top chef and feel bad together if our guy does not win, we will watch American next top model together and project runway, see, it’s called having a small brother.

So to the one I taught how to play chess and within a week he was already too good, even for me ;the one who always beats me at poker hands down, and to the guy who makes me laugh and know boys stuff;

Happy eleventh birthday Wiltord, grow to be a man and to celebrate more birthdays 😉

You are truly loved and cherished.

OF SELF LOVE

Self-love is the regard for one’s own well-being and happiness.
It doesn’t necessarily mean or scream bubble baths, pedicures, manicures and cucumber masks. Forget the definition; if you ask me self-love is equal to happiness. Doing that which makes you happy and appreciating everything in your life and pampering yourself in the best way you know how.

It is a surrender of being totally you, being present in your own life and taking control of it and not feeling the need to apologize to anyone for your very existence.

Self-love is self-acceptance
it is looking in the mirror and loving everything you see and even wondering what it would be like to have a twin, someone who has all your awesomeness because you are loving what is going on there.
it is accepting your entire physique and all the flaws that come with it, it is trying to change what you are not happy with like the extra fat in all the unnecessary places and accepting the aspects of the body you cannot change like for skin colour, height, how you grin hideously (not your fault, okay, partly) there is plastic surgery for that though but that is a whole different story.
It is accepting your flaws, and all your weird fetishes!! Yes yes those that no one in this world seems to get even your own mother.
It is when you go shopping with your friends and you keep picking all the weird/wrong stuff according to them but since you like them you pick them anyway because c’mon there is just no accounting for taste sometimes.
It is wearing that which makes you feel comfortable and beautiful.

Self-love is self esteem
it is believing in yourself waaay before even your closest buddy does and letting the whole world take their time to catch up; because after all you know you’ve got this and He’s got you.
It is walking into a room full of people, feeling scared and anxious you are almost sure you are high on something but then still mastering every ounce of confidence you have and being able to give that speech or presentation.
It is starting from the bottom and maneuvering your way to the top.
It is taking risks and when they backfire and the joke is clearly on you, you take the joke and make fun of yourself better than anyone else and move on.
It is being special, treating yourself so, because you are bright enough to shine on anyone’s face.

Self-love is self-respect;
It is in knowing your worth and your value as a woman or a man.
It is voicing your opinion regardless of the number of times you have done it already and not letting people undermine you.
It is when you walk away from a bad relationship and never look back.
It is when he breaks your heart one too many times and you move on because there are a million other people in this world.
it is when you have mourned for too long and decide it is time to take care of yourself too, take the scars, as many as they are and turn them into something beautiful like a book or a song and blessing others with it or even changing other people’s lives with it.
Self-love is when you know your self-worth is not equal to or directly proportional to the number of likes, followers or views you have. It is not going to twitter and making/forcing various hash-tags to happen. it is not equal to the number of guys you have dated and the number of people who dumped your sorry ass.
It is not saying yes to anyone who asks because you fear time is running out and you have no one on your side.

Self-love is self-responsibility
Self-responsibility is equal to self-growth.
It is striving to grow as a human being. Always learning something new, feeding your mind with information; reading novels, magazines, books and the bible; especially the bible.
It is not letting your happiness be determined by other people.
it is letting go, forgiving those who wronged you, not necessarily because they deserve it but because you need it, knowing when you need to ask to be forgiven and knowing when you should forgive yourself because it is what it is and nothing can change that.
It is using your talents and not letting any opportunities go, because you know if you never try they will never know.
It is sometimes when you are so angry sitting down and putting everything into perspective before you judge or give up.
It is working hard at whatever you do and being in control of your own life; not sitting around and waiting for your guy/parents to make that happen for you.
It is living everyday as though it is the day you will be remembered with.

***

Self-love is also allowing yourself to be vulnerable, allowing yourself to love, it is loving God and your family above all else.
It is acknowledging that it’s okay sometimes to cry or break down but to still keep going.
Self-love is keeping a diary/ scrap book, taking photos; because you want to remember how awesome you were many years to come.
It is waking up and jogging and then living a healthy life because you love your life too much to let some disease you had the power to avoid cut it short.

Self-love is listening to the same song over and over again, watching your favorite movie as many times as you want because you freaking love it.

THEY TOLD ME I COULD SING.

You know how they say names define who you are or become? …like when they call you drake, I think they expect one day you will rap, never mind you can’t even say a full sentence without taking a long heavy breath and stammer all the way…it is like that time Obama became the first black president and literally every Kenyan decided it was best fit for their new borns to be called Obama; maybe because the name came with some charm and luck (I dunno!). Or when Lupita won an Oscar and the name suddenly became the best thing that happened to this country.
Okay, am speculating, but it can’t be too far from the truth.
So they called me Whitney, I was born in the 90’s, right at the time when Whitney Houston was such a big name in music. I cannot tell whether I was called that because it was a dope name at the time or they actually saw a vision that when I grew up I’d be as good as her, musically. Thankfully, I wasn’t so bad after all.

 
Growing up, I was not a fanatic per se but I listened to her music, I hoped to one day be so good at something and have my parents cheer as their faces alight with pride as I did what I did best (dreams my friend, they just never end…). I loved singing, in the meantime, I sang occasionally in church and one or two people may have told me I had a good voice so of course keeping that in mind I kept at it. I was terribly excited about it.

 
Just like the next kid, I wanted to follow my dreams, there was so much possibility .Once we gain momentum, once the wheel starts to turn, we don’t want it to end so I did everything I could to follow that. It wasn’t until high school that that changed immensely; you know how auditions were back then, they were so intense, torture, joining clubs was such a big deal and everyone struggled to get in, it was no walk in the park, especially if you were auditioning for drama, the things they’d make you do!! (Be forgiven already).
I remember when they called for choir auditions, the number of people who turned up was massive, I stood there dazed, apparently I was not the only one who thought I could sing, so did a hundred others. I remember people practicing outside , others to show how absurdly talented they were and others to show how fine they were at mastering lyrics of songs, In the moment, I might have also flossed a bit, bluffed of my very undeniable talent, so you can imagine my surprise when I did not make it. We were many; they needed just a few, I wanted to be outstanding and I sang something like “boma choir is the best” in my own tune… I swear I thought I was being creative, must have been the lack of truth in the words or I was just being ridiculously ambitious in a very annoying way OR my voice could have been screechy, I didn’t care, I couldn’t care. In the interest of honesty though, I felt I had let myself down, I felt they may just have mocked my choices in life.

 
It sucked, particularly because I still believed I had a voice.
you know how the first time you learnt to ride a bike you felt you knew it all and then you fell, hard !as if you had learnt nothing the whole time? Now multiply that by a hundred that is what I felt. For the rest of my time in school I looked longingly at the choir as they blended their beautiful voices. I was dying to join them you have no idea. At some point it lost its fascination but I still wished regardless, most days I got sentimental, so I said a few nice things to myself and encouraged myself to go on. I told myself when I joined campus it was the first thing I would do.
It was, and I damn well did it!! At least it was not just a pity party, I did it, I joined the choir. I had put up a good front one too many times now it was my damn time…

 
It was like your first grasp of freedom, the feeling was overwhelming, worrisome and tremendous. It was the best feeling in the world at that point, I was elated. I even tried the school band (ha! this is how I end up where I began!!). Here in the band there were no auditions, you would be allowed to sing until the day you realize you cannot stand the sound of your own voice on the microphone , the day you stop being so cocky and realize you prefer listening to others sing a hundred times more than yourself. It had its people, no mediocre; it had voices like Ruth Matete’s and Sauti Soul. Who then was I to compete with all that? I decided to be a mere observer and listener, I mean, if you can’t beat them join them.

 
so I stuck to my choir, here no one auditioned you when you joined, which means I definitely made it in, the problem came in when there were functions and they had to audition every single person and determine whether they were singing the right key or not, this was my entire problem, I detested auditions, I didn’t see why I had to prove to anyone I could sing, it could have sprang from my high school experience ; I was more fascinated by the place, the people and the choir master/director. This man was hilarious, it was like coming to listen to Kevin Hart; for FREE!!, who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity, the whole year I stuck there, they were strict with the timing and we practiced almost every day for like three hours. Practice my friend, practice. I stayed, and savored the time just for the mere feeling of it. Deep down I felt lacking, I felt I was there for all the wrong reasons. My voice was firm, grateful, underneath it was filled with fear, fear that one day I’ll be forced to sing out loud solo and then all hell will break loose,

 

And the director would be like ‘there is no way to break it to you nicely so I’ll just say it, you cannot sing!’

 

And then I would be finished, I would relive my worst nightmare.

 

It felt like I was anxiously waiting for someone’s approval, a lot of my self-worth hanged on the balance.

 

And I felt like I was three again, when I gained momentum and I could walk, and I would give my parents a sign

 

‘Look at me, look…look…

’

And they would be like, ‘go, go, go…oh no…that’s it, oh no, it’s okay, you’ll do it. Try again’ in a voice that is tight with false cheer.

so I gave it all up,, I couldn’t tell if I lost psyche for practicing or the timing was off or my life got way too busy or I detested auditions, but I can gladly tell you I felt accomplished. One of those things you put a tick on because it was on your to-do-list.
Go me…
Frankly, I love songs, I love singing too…I do; sometimes I feel like I should be on the other side of the table, the side that in so you think you can dance will tell you straight to your face you can’t, the side that Ian sits on on tusker project fame…. yea the side that is paid to identify screechy voices and send them home. That’s a valid thought, plus I’m not so clueless so I THINK I can make a good judge.
Ahhh ha ha ha ha!!!
I gave up that kind of singing and settled on the one that you sing so loudly in the bathroom when you hear the script singing your favorite song; the one that you shout when you hear the ‘uliza kiatu’ song because heavens know you mean every word of it. And the one that you sing in the quiet of your bed, with your earphones or headphones and to sing in church or hum to those hymns (they don’t judge in church, do they?)….whichever so long as what I intend to say to whomever I intend to say it to gets heard, the one that makes you feel spiritual elevation; I need that.
I found my place elsewhere. If I get a husband like Ed Sheraan who can sing and write I wouldn’t mind is all I’m saying. When I hear him singing ‘autumn leaves’ I totally relate. I wouldn’t mind if I did the lyrics and he did the singing, he!

 

And I decided to write, something I would rely solely on my brain, till it shrivels up and dies one day.
And this my friends is the good, the bad and the just plain terrifying part of growing up,
Trying out so many things till you settle on the one that makes you most happy.
Mine is definitely not singing, at least not in that way.
Hope you find yours sooner…

THE GIRL STRUGGLE; SALONS.

6 hours 23 minutes and some seconds…
This is not the time I took on some podium showcasing my God given talent to some bunch of experts. It is not the time I took revising for my advanced financial reporting paper either. Roughly, it is half the time Mayweather took to beat Pacquiao and take home around $100 worth of money in the recent boxing match that made history, if I had spent it there I would be unapologetically rich now. Time is money people, time is money. Word!!
This was the amount of time I spent in the salon getting my hair done a while back.
B.R.A.I.D.S.

I can’t even tell you how many times this happens in one lifetime;
When they say God is fair, believe it. I am one blessed human, with countless things, but hair isn’t one of them, like at all. It isn’t long enough for me to walk around in a ponytail seeing as it hardly ever grows. it has a condition called stunted growth. It is not a lot either, just enough to not make me look bald (at least!). Just enough to convince me something actually covers my head. It isn’t black; I can’t exactly tell you what colour it is either. They say I would be blonde or a red head if I was white. I think they mean well, except in what world would that ever happen? I am grateful they try to make me feel better anyway.
If you have hair struggles you must know a thing or two about my status.
Do not get it twisted, I like my hair, as a matter of fact I embraced this flaw a long time ago the only way I know how. Amen to whoever said “your flaws are perfect for the heart that’s meant to love you.” LET IT BE SO…
B.R.A.I.D.S.
6 hours, 23 minutes and some seconds…
Salons are interesting places;
Women never stop talking if you get into a salon. You want relentless celebrity gossip; this place will provide you with that. And when I say relentless I mean relentless!! They have a sharp eye for detail. They can sniff out the neighborhood scandals and conspiracy. It is a platform where random women come together, rant over their problems; more like a support group. You will hear about whose husband cheated and with who, who doesn’t dress well (eye for detail, remember?), who’s broke (you wonder how that is even common knowledge!)… You name it, all here. It is like high school all over again except these are thirty something years old women.
The charmingly incompetent they say;
So I enter my usual salon, new faces, again!!(They never stay in one salon for longer than two months, either they were caught bad mouthing their boss or they stole something and got fired…) I know this because my parents owned a salon once.
This woman is making small talk and somehow we are in a moment. “Ah, you are in Moi University? You know Keziah? Just joined first year, short, light, skinny with tweezed eyebrows… (Stop right there; tweezed eyebrows?!! am supposed to notice that in a school of over 7000 students?) I cunningly say, ‘ooh Keziah…eeh…that Keziah. Who doesn’t know Keziah? (I don’t)” she smiles… her whoever is a big shot in campus, everyone knows her. She imagines. They start giving me advice on how I should save, invest, date bla (did I mention they know everything) theoretically…
It’s all good for a moment, until you hear about some ridiculous statement. Ati one of them was told by her pastor if she takes 15000 to church occasionally she will stop being poor in 30 days. I mean, what religion is this, voodoo? It is either that or I’m the one with little faith, even so, lemme look at it realistically, how? aje? I mean, even Oprah took years to be rich YEAR!! So unless she MIRACULOUSLY stumbles upon a very wealthy man, dates for 3 weeks and get married the fourth week (to make it a month) I don’t see how. Do enlighten me I beg, I could be the one who is extremely wrong on this.
***
I love when they wash my hair. The feel of someone slowly massaging my head and making my hair clean. It is exhilarating. For a second there I feel like I am in the Bahamas,(scratch that) make it Hawaii, yo!! Just enjoying the scene and feeling the breeze and life, life is awesome.
And then the nightmare begins; when they actually begin doing your braids waaa…kwanza when they are 2 or 3 at it and all of them are pulling your head in different directions; left, right, center. This is not a chair for Pete’s sake.
You have one sensitive scalp and they’ve got painful hands…TEARS! No lie. Excruciating pain baby, then there is a way you should position your head, either face the floor or the ceiling for like hours. Man, sema neck pains! And you still have to help them undo the stuff as you give them. So your hands are busy, you can barely even see, you know, with the balancing tears and all. One of them notices and they will be like ‘’ sorry, did that hurt?” and in your head you will be like, ‘more than you will ever no’ but you will say it didn’t hurt that much and then she will say “urembo ni kuvumilia!!” the irony is her head is shaved clean, talk of drinking wine and preaching water…
And they will laugh simultaneously and then continue with their heated fierce debate about what they read on true love on what makes men cheat. Even if you wanted to, you cannot laugh or least of all show you are enjoying the conversation because what are you? 12? What could you possibly know about anything anyway? So you just shush, enjoy the conversation silently, tell your soul to be still as you wait for the painful storm to pass for another three hours …let the countdown begin…
You remember how when you were a kid you were taken to the salon, lured with goodies and told to sit and get plaited. The woman would put your head between her thighs, it would make you uncomfortable, you would scream, but you would eventually calm down and endure the pain; suck at your lollipop like it was your only salvation. When you disturbed, the hairdresser would pinch you or threaten you to be calm…so you put your eye on the price; cookies, you couldn’t fathom what the pulling of hair was about though, why would someone even do that to a kid? You figured they were just teaching you a lesson.
15 years down the line, still doing the same thing;
This shit is real,
When it is done you can only hope you do not look like a clown. In a salon you brace yourself for anything, even after you are done it hurts so bad, you can’t even laugh…for the rest of the night you will sleep with your face, your head MUST not be in contact with the pillow…
When girls dish out generous compliments you smile and know it was worth it; the guy will hardly notice you did something to your head;
You are just a boy…you don’t understand…
Till next time salon, good riddance.

ONLINE STALKING!!!

ONLINE STALKING
It’s late and quiet, I have insomnia; self-created I guess, the one that is as a result of you sleeping for the most part of the day and being awake all night. I am stuffed with an abundance of odd choices, I could read a novel, this trilogy I am on; book number two now, but no, I refuse to finish the book yet; I have thoughts…about the cliffhanger ending and so I will postpone the suspense as much as I can. So help me, I hate endings. I could watch a reality show for the umpteenth time ,(bless reality shows, they make me explode with happiness) and then there is the option of waking my little brother so he can help me kill time but he has school tomorrow so that is definitely out ,also, I could just stare darkness in the face till I gave in and slept which could take hours and a lot of soul searching in the process , so I settle on option number last, buy a lot of bundles and surf the night away till whoever supplies sleep decides it was my turn, somehow am proud of myself, Lupita couldn’t be more proud on winning an Oscar.

You know how you get excited over silly things with no particular end game in mind? That was me. I was thrilled.

Excitement galore!!!

So I wrap my hands, get my scrolling fingers warmed up and ready for the long night…
***

I check my favorite blogs first to see anything new and catch up on the latest, that is a ritual, a must do; I am loyal to this things. God ,I wish I was half as committed to my studies, I would be somewhere in Yale or Harvard having difficulty choosing my major because you see I’d be good at all my courses and equally as passionate…you know…

Back from my wishful thinking into reality, I check on business blogs (I happen to be very invested in this particular field) and then I check fashion blogs to see who bought what outfit and can’t wait to show it to the rest of the world (gracious, the STRUGGLE is real!) no pun intended. Then there are the food blogs, too many of them nowadays, you can’t still not know how to cook and still blame it on your mama for not investing enough on your cooking skills; this is generation ‘taking things into your own hands’ so you don’t become the next Olivia pope (scandal anyone?) who only knows about wine and pop corns; honey, you cannot afford that life!! there is so much information on food/cooking; too many recipes am even beginning to confuse and question my cooking techniques or lack of thereof, I searched for Christian blogs too…you know, to learn a thing or two about the bible but even those have been narrowed down to either Christian dating or married life as Christians and since I do not fall into either category I’ll pass on those too.

I begin go ogling random stuff; by random I mean shoes, hairstyles, fragrances, dresses…you name it, the life of a lady!! We are entitled to these small pleasures lakini. I look into celebrity gossip (Just tonight, I plead guilty of being very shallow, unless following/keeping up with Kardashians faithfully like a dog is deemed shallow, no?), see which celebrity bought a puppy and posted on Instagram, who wore a see through dress to the AMA (American music awards) and who admitted to being gay sijui when…aargh!
I hate me already. But do you blame me? These things have a way of making you want to indulge more; I still have a LOT of bundles…

And the night is still very young…and the devil is a liar

You know how they say an idle mind is the devils’ workshop, well well, he got me people!! HE GOT ME hands down!! I begin to Google myself, to see what Google has to say about me; you want to know how that went; not well…not much, hardly anything since I hadn’t done anything yet to have everyone all over my business. Try go ogling Chris Kirubi and then google Whitney Mosingi and you’ll know what I am talking about…

Being idle has its way with things, don’t even get me started, before I know it I was googling anyone that popped into my head, and one thing leads to another, Facebook, twitter, Instagram and LinkedIn, especially LinkedIn, “oh wow, kumbe Jane bought a new car, and Sharon went to Australia and Mary has a job, already?!, how?!” is all I said as I tried to wrap my head around the idea. it’s all fun a and games until I begin to feel bad somehow, I want that too for me… and I want to stop stalking already but a curious woman is a curious woman.

Just this once let me check out what other people are up to. I want to know how it went for kina nani;

Be careful what you wish for honey,

Parts of those fill me with glee and others with rage and others with an intense longing to time travel back three years.
I had decided a long time ago not to bother much about what other people were doing, where they were and stuff. See, I have been over this for the longest time possible, the fact that I had shown refrain for years before doing this is remarkable, That’s what happens when you stubbornly refuse to listen to your gut; it serves as a painful reminder and keeps screaming at you…”told you, I TOLD YOU.”

My main agenda was to kill time and entertain. Entertain my eyes, soul, mind, not to torment myself with what was, what could have been and sometimes the good riddance statements that made me feel all self-righteous, so when it began to make me feel bad about where I am, what I have done so far it is a NO.

And this reminded me of this episode of being Mary Jane, the episode is called drink, pray, let go;
It is the part where she has been dumped by David and she decides to change her life, she saves his number as let him go (way to get over a guy!!) Just when we believe she is over him, it gets worse; she starts stalking him online and then she sees this photo of him and his missus or whatever they are; FYI this chic is a model; beautiful and intelligent, who can even compete with that? Her heart shatters, she remembers stuff and start grudging all over again,
Oh Mary Jane, just when we were starting to get along.

For someone whose main function in life is to act like she doesn’t care about guys at all; like zero, this is a fail, but this won’t be the first time something in the show doesn’t add up. This is what happens when you start stalking people online; there are many things that will hurt you and many sins you will commit, for one;

I coveted…

Just when I thought I had everything I needed and was contented, I coveted. The internet especially social media has a way of making everything perfect, peoples’ lives are spectacular on the internet and I wanted that, I did that for the better part of the evening, and it surprised me how people have tremendously moved on with their lives and this tells you the world does not revolve around you, which is a painful fact. I wanted their dresses, their shoes, their everything; I know I should know better…

I became jealous…
My pastor says jealousy is a bad thing, so does my bible. I believe. Mainly because I hate the feeling and I like myself. Anything that makes me feel bad is a sin.

With all these feelings, I switched off my phone. I need all the serenity I can get in my life. Let’s just remember the good times and the good things I patad online. Maybe this is a fuss over nothing.

F.R.U.S.T.R.A.T.I.O.N
Is all I felt so I just covered my head and wished I was somewhere doing this;
ME; Forgive me father for I have sinned
FATHER; yes my child…
ME; …