Days of the Past

Hey, there’s so much to words that I think people never get to think about. Oh, I hope you’re holding up well so far and you’re putting up with your new year resolutions even though both of us know we suck at that ha ha! But all the best, fam, all the best. As I was saying, words are a force that nobody knows how well to control. Heck! Nobody can control those.

Last year, I had a great time. The entire year, oh my, that was a good a year. I’m speaking generally because I kind of like keeping the good memories more than the bad. Good memories are what everybody needs because life lived is a collection of memories. What kind of life would you want to live?

The year had it’s ups and downs but I enjoyed when I had to, I was sad when I had to, I was angry when I had to be and I was what I had to when I had to. I remember one time, I was very confused because I wanted to avoid people and the only way to do that was to remain where I was. See, I was going to stay alone for a week. No one to talk to in particular, I would have my laptop and some few movies and series that I’d watch until my hibernation period was over. I also was going to be doing this thing where you wash all utensils in the house, then single out one cup that you’ll use to drink any drink; water, juice, tea, porridge you name it, that was the cup. That’s because no utensil was going to get used, ndio nani aanze kuosha vyombo?

And it was a good plan. Up until my girlfriend find out. OK, I told her. Because I talk to her. And everything became great! That was the best one week of my 2015 and also that day I slayed a SportPesa bet on the first bet. No details cos I don’t want to bore you.

So, on Saturday – it started on Saturday, she packed her stuff and off we went. The house we lived in, was owned by a pastor who had strict rules about two people of opposite sex sharing a room. Now, before you get started boiling hapo with bile ati the worse threat is having people of same sex share the room, let me give you some back story. The pastor once had a female tenant, who aborted and disposed the poor fetus in the garbage which the pastor stumbled upon while cleaning his compound (I know you’re dying to say cleanliness is next to godliness so, this is your chance, knock yourself out) and that’s how that rule came into existence. Come to think of it, what if the lady got pregnant somewhere else and then she came to her rented house at pastor’s… #ThingsThatKeepMeAwake .

We’d broken many rules together already so, this one was easy. Bring her in during the day, then that was it. Easy. So easy that I had to seek some thrill out of this. At around 7PM, a tad-bit dark. The nduthis speeding by will momentarily remind you that it’s time to wind up the day. The sunset will cast a yellow shade to the sky in the horizon and I don’t know about you, but that sunset always looks like it don’t want to go away. If you’ve ever had a floater in the loo, you’re getting what I say. But despite this light-of-a-dying sun, the pastor would step out of his house with a torch and walk outside our house. His first stop is the incomplete part of his building. He will inspect that for a few minutes and then walk around, I dont know looking at what, and then back to his house.

But you know pastors. You’ve heard them speak in buses as you walk by the roadside he he! because they have the right voice for the job. And they sort of don’t know how to switch it a notch-low cos you know, not everywhere there’s a congregation reverend. But in the spirit of consistency, keep that fire burning!

My neighbor hears the pastor moving a piece of wood. She opens her door and waits for him to finish so that she can say “hi” and some other stuff I’m not allowed to tell you. What? Sasa wewe nikikuambia kila kitu… she wanted her sink fixed or something 😀 The pastor calls her out, they talk, my babe and I are hearing it all so we reduce the music volume and keep silent. Actually we held our breathe. Then pastor walks by. Stops by our window as if he the detector alarm on his ‘opposite-sex fellows together in your house’ has gone off. I’m compelled by thrill to go and ‘keep him at peace’. Babe ducks into the closet shwaa! I open the door just as pastor is about to knock, the conversation goes something like:

PASTOR: jambo, nimeambiwa utakuwa unakaa hapa?

ME: (stretching out my hand for a handshake) yeah ni sis… ni mimi nitakuwa nakaa hapa.

P: (lifting up one finger, KANU-style) usijaribu kuleta msichana hapa! Sitaki tukosane.

At this point I was expecting him to push me aside and burge into the house because I had been stretching out my hand all that time, and he looked keen to get done with an inspection.

M: Haina shida, tuta… nitakaa tu pekee yangu.

P: (Patting me on the shoulder) sawa! Hiyo ni mzuri.

Then he notices my hand hanging in the air.

P: Nini mbaya? (pointing the torch to where my hand is pointing) kuna shida yeyote? Naona umepoint hapo ndio…

M: (I had to inerrupt the guy) hapana. Kila kitu iko sawa. Asante.

Back into the house.

Babe is still in the closet. She was well concealed and morphed in with the clothes that you couldn’t tell a beautiful soul was lingering in those tailored heaps of cotton. I tell her to come out cos you know, she’s straight and it wont be news when she comes out of the closet drops Mic

There are times you think that you’ve everything you want. It’s a moment in time. But in that moment, everything falls perfect into place. The words you say are the right words to be said, when you smile, it describes everything in your soul. It’s a moment in time when you are silent and everything feels correct. That is what that week was for me. And I loved every bit of it. I’ve never told anyone this but it was the one time in my life I really considered eloping with somebody’s daughter. To the outside world I just seem like a normal guy, but inside, I’m a piece of art crafted by tenderness and kindness of a beautiful soul, a human being I would do anything for.

I hear people change. It’s true. I don’t know if I changed but I know, I always do things that would bring happiness to both of us. I prefer using words to convey the point to people like you who might never get to know me, not so that I can show off of what I am, but to encourage you to make good memories. Oh! I made pretty bad memories, and that was all cos of words I said. And I regret some of those memories ever happening but you know me, words are a force I choose to rarely use, so I put everything I want to achieve in actions, cos there, there I got control.

P. S. :

If babe ever reads this, know I was bored and you’d not replied my text; hiyo ya msee alichapwa juu ya kudandia story ya wenyewe. That thing was funny, you should have seen that guys face after apewe social discipline, so, I started thinking in past tense.

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Of goodbyes and new beginnings.

She

I can’t believe today is my last day in campus. My mind couldn’t help but drift to my first day here. The things that I believed in then and what it is I believe in now. I have grown, I can say. And today, I wanna say something, I wanna say something wise. I mean, I’ve done this before; this nostalgic feeling one gets about leaving a place and saying goodbye to the people you might have called family for some years, all mixed up with all the uncertainties flocking your mind.

The first time you finish some chapter in your life, you have this fairy tale thinking of ‘happily ever after’. I was young and living the life everyone thought was perfect. Turns out, it just wasn’t perfect for me. That life was yet to happen and teach my new beliefs and lessons. I was very angry at life…

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Self Love

Self Love

I’m not really an open person. Don’t get me wrong: I do a lot of talking, just not about myself. Most times, I keep stuff to myself. The sociologists would call me an introvert. I’m not complaining just to make things clear. I just like keeping MY stuff to MYself because they are MINE.

This habit has in some way influenced very many decisions I make in my life. This is not the first URL to a blog I’m owning; Shut it down twice since I didn’t want guys close to me to know what actually happens in this brain of mine. To them, I was just the funny girl who never got deep about stuff. I’ve done so many things which I really wouldn’t do in a normal situation just because I wanted to keep the other party happy. I have said stuff that I don’t really mean because that’s what people want to hear; kept my two cents to myself; reason, to keep the other party happy.

Keeping other people happy came with a cost though: my own happiness. I wasn’t doing me. I had sold out my happy for others, and it’s a miserable life to live. Then one day I decided to put myself first. To do me first, the rest will follow.

I got the courage to say no; they sulked but I’m sure they got in their hearts to understand. I got the courage to do things that I loved first before going out of my way to do someone a favor that they wouldn’t even appreciate. I found myself talking about how I really felt about a situation I found myself singing in the shower more and my happy, my joy, the smile on my face, though it was previously always there, was now sincere.

I won’t lie to you, I lost so many people in the transition; but it didn’t really matter. As long as I was going to bed happy and with a clear conscience, I was fine. Plus people come and go. The only thing, I discovered, that was ever going to remain constant was me.

So right now I’m doing me: Whatever makes me happy. I’ve discovered that I’m in charge of my happiness. That I can’t count on people for joy. So I choose to be happy and share it with the people around me; classic case of joy like a fountain. Still, I can’t help thinking that getting your happy is something only a complete idiot will truly believe in. Like you just can’t walk into a mall and get your happy. See it in its shiny box, catch a glimpse of yourself in a new happy life and say ‘Wow, I look much happier. I think this is the life I need to get’, take it to the counter and pay for it. If getting a happier life was that easy, we’d be one bliss-ed out universe. But we are not. So it’s like, sweetie, your happy isn’t out there waiting, so don’t think all you have to do is find it and get it. No. Your happy life is right there inside you. And yeah, at times life sucks, lives usually do. So, you don’t need to get a life, you need to get off your ass and strive to letting the happy in you blossom.

People tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that’ll descend like fine weather if you are fortunate. But happiness is the result of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it.

My point is, I think I found the key to a happy life: You have to fight for your happy. Oh and above all, do you; the rest will fall in place.

I wish I was 40.

Here’s a little something I wrote. Dedicating this piece to all the people in their early twenties out there wondering whether this life will finally yield what they want it to after going through all they go through to get there.

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Time 11:54 hrs.

I just can’t bring myself to sleep. My mind is doing what it does best: wander. So I decide to get on my laptop and start banging on the keyboard.

I’m here wishing I could just jump to the time when I’m 40. I know it’s insane but yeah, I wish I was 40. Why 40 you will ask. Well, at 40, I believe I will have my life figured out. I wouldn’t be worrying about whether I’m gonna ace my exams, or the project proposal I just handed in would be declined or whether I’d get a job after slaving through the Calculus books I have struggled to read. At 40, my love life would be in check. I will probably be married, with kids, or if I turn out to be barren, I think I would have made peace with it.

In short, it’s these uncertainties that are driving me crazy. The ‘what ifs’ are reeling in my mind. They say fear keeps us moving but what if at times it paralyses us? I hear it has a name: The fear of failure. Is that a good thing? Wait, someone please answer me, I’m I normal, does it happen with you else out there or it’s just me.

I wanna be great, I know what I want, thing is, how to get there is the problem. One step at a time, I keep telling myself, but truth be told, at times, I feel like I’m not moving at all; it’s like I’m on freaking marking time.

Have you ever lived on hope? I think that’s what I’m doing. Someday things will make sense, I want to believe, but that someday is not today, so I’m asking the super power behind my existence, to grant me infinite patience. That I may be patient enough to live through the close to 20 years between now and when I’m 40.

My parents keep telling me that these are my best years. It’s kinda hard to be believe them with all these uncertainties but with old age comes wisdom, right? So I choose to believe. I pray to see the good in these years that at times I compare with the ocean; unsettled. I will ride the waves these years bring forth. And wherever the waves choose to take me, I will go. Where need be, I shall use a surfboard and call on the lifeguard in case I get a muscle pull while at it. Above all I will enjoy these years so that when I’m finally 40, I can look back and say, those were the best years of my life.

Fire by Dora Okeyo

Desire burns like fire, and so in the beginning was the desire for a legacy.

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This is the cover to Fire by Dora Okeyo

That’s the opening sentence to a story that ushers you into a world of four kingdoms ; Leo to the North, Juzi to the North-East, Jana to the East and Kesho to the West. Kingdoms which have their own uniqueness yet just as much similarities that spin a story, one of a kind.

Leo is a flourishing Kingdom but when the King has only sired daughters, the possibilities of having an heir to the throne are as close to zero as the temperature on a cold winter. Even when one of the daughters is deemed the wisest, the throne needs a son to the King so when Pendo, the Queen and mother of three fine girls gives birth to a son, the beginning of a new dawn dawns.

However, this single event is the pillar of many other events that come after. For instance, Ukweli, the King’s brother who forfeited the throne for his younger brother so that he heeds to his calling as a seer, starts to have strange dreams. He sees darkness and bloody days ahead.

On the other hand, the King goes against the elders wishes of having his son named Uzima and names him Ustawi. By now you know THIS MEANS WAR! Anyway, many quarters of the Leo Kingdom are disturbed. Ukweli seeks the Diviners help to interpret his dreams. He’s sent on a mission instead.

The moment I bought this book I just dived in. I read it all afternoon and I must say, Dora is quite the storyteller. Oh! Guys, I knew she won’t disappoint cos I read her blogs oftenly.

She’s the writer and in this book it’s evident from her simple language and flow of the story. I also love how she makes her descriptions, sticking the characters image into your brain. Then she walks you through the tale, past, present and future. She intertwines all this into one and serves you a fresh delicacy of an African tale.

The metaphors that her characters relay are delivered with the finesse of a veteran story teller yeah! She’s written twenty five novels btw. It’s a work of art. My friends, classical art. If you’re looking for a fresh story in an African traditional setup, this is the place to get it. This is the novel for the lover of wits and words.  Check this…

So, you have been snooping around the palace Nia.”
“No! I was just seeing what happens here. I have never been to a palace before.”
“For a boy you roll your tongue faster than a man who has pepper rubbed in his eyes.

And then…

“Are you saying that the royal wine got you in this state?”
“No my King, the burden of being the one who always knows everything weighs me down. How would you know? Anyway, do you have some more of your wine, for I fear I have news that can only be delivered when I can see two or three of you seated before me.”

You ought to get this book. It’s a wonderful read. I like how she uses common Swahili names for the characters which helps the reader to morph into the story and keep up. You see, in a country that I hardly see our writers churning out stories sigh, Dora is a hard worker. Check her Smash Words and blogs*. And here is a list of her other books.

I got my copy from Amazon for my kindle. You can buy it there too in your preferred format. See how to do it with your Nakumatt card here.

I’m not telling you what happens to the King’s son. Or his brother who’s sent to the mission. Just so you know, in that mission he was given a gift for the newborn baby. Oh boy! You still waiting I tell you what happens to the three daughters? Especially the wise one I hinted on earlier? Get that book. Did I say Ulioko is one funny character? Read for yourself. Okay? OK!

*Read her Blog Posts here
PS: I created a Smash Words account many months ago ndio I download those books. Mimi hakuna kitu ya maana nimeanza huko Smash Words 😂😂 mniombee.

Hell Breaketh Loose

Steve stepped out of his brand new car. His mobile phone was still pinned to his huge left ear. Did you know that the human ear grows as one grows? And also, the human ears are unique in shape… :mrgreen:  anyway, that was out of course. He grabbed his suitcase, wore his coat as he incessantly tried to calm down the caller. He was used to it.

His mornings were full of calls from clients. Especially those who paid him a lot of dough and had to rub it in on him that he was paid to make sure they don’t call him, yelling that he saves their companies.

Poor lawyer. As if that wasn’t enough, he had to content with that kind of fellows the whole day. Making deals, reviewing by-laws, negotiating his way out of law suits… He hated court. A good lawyer never goes to the court.

Liz liked walking to and from work. She always wanted to keep fit. Maintain a curvaceous body, firm her skin and stand out among the everyday women. I think she was obsessed with it. She did all she could to remain in shape forgetting the world around her.

She must’ve been content with her life at that moment but her already tempting body. She worshipped herself. Kind of.

At the restaurant during lunch hours, the waiters have a hard time trying to meet everyone’s order.  They get mixed up sometime but still, they manage to satisfy the hungry souls. Save for a few restless douches that end up trying to cause a scene.

They will place an order. Coincidentally, that order won’t be available. They place another and instruct ikuje haraka. Then five, six minutes later,they start tuning their voices, small mumbles from their table erupt into loud voices that have to be calmed, to no avail, by the waiters. The manager will walk in seconds later. The man who caused the disrupt is now saying how he won’t eat there again. Next day, he shows up!

Steve sat at the table on the furthest corner of hotel. From here he’d see all who came in and walked out.

He particularly loved checking out the ladies. He called it therapy of the eyes. His friends ridiculed him for doing that yet he had a fine girl with him. He sat there thinking about her.

She walked in. Round black shades covered her eyes up until she removed them to reveal a pair of milk-white doe eyes. She inspected the hotel and as if she’d picked on Steve, she sashayed her curvy self to his table.

He was thinking about what she said when she asked if the table was fully booked . But in his senses, what was playing was the scent of her designer Cologne. The kind you smell on classy ladies, hanging a Dolce and Gabbana hand bag on their arm as you ride up the seventh floor in a lift of one of those swanky offices. She was smart. She still is. Sitting their in front of him, he could use as a foundation for a skyscraper the amount of solid silence that passed between them as she waited for her food. He finished, stood up and left without saying a word to her. Or the reverse.

Liz was unperturbed. The next day, and this made him smile as he reminisced on it, as fate would have it,  Steve had to share a table with her.  This time round, he gave in some small talk. At first, she was in receptive. He sat there a few moments, hitting his fingers on the table as she probably, pretended to be checking her phone.

The impatient complainer saved the day. As he was trying to raise hell, he got physical and spilt food on the customers, Liz being one of them. Long story short, Steve represented them, the complainer was fined, Steve got closer to Liz,  married and the rest is history ☺.

But, Steve had just opened up a can of worms. Six months into the marriage with Liz and he felt he’d had it. She was overbearing, self-centered, overly emotional and he had turned out to be a jerk.

She had quickly risen through the ranks and the unfortunate demise of her boss made her the boss. She also became bossy Hehe! You get? They had grown adrift with each other and despite having moved in together and lived for a couple of months, the situation was like the first time they met.

Steve’s work further had him making use of all the time he had to kill deadlines and close deals. Liz took that time to focus on herself that she forgot all about her relationship. She became more attractive, moved eyes but drew away from Steve completely.

As he listened to the manager trying to quieten a customer, he saw her going into another man’s car. The man held her by the waist, pulled her closer to him but she pulled out and refrained from it.

He walked out quickly but was too late to catch the already sped off vehicle. He wished he’d come with his car as he ran to the workplace to get it.

His boss was seated in his office chair waiting for him. He didn’t know how to react to his pre-prepared lecture. He grabbed his car keys and shouted to him that he’s quit. He stormed out and drove home, failing to find Liz on phone.

At home, she was there. Towel wrapped around her body, fresh from the shower.  Steve confronted him. She shot back harshly at how aloof he’d been forcing her to find company elsewhere. She blamed him for making her obsessed with herself thinking she wasn’t good enough for him. She shouted how he never talked to her but was always on the phone. That he’d never listened to her complain about the way one of the board members in the company is harassing her for his support. To him, she wasn’t a priority and she’d even delivered her resignation letter that afternoon so that she’d focus on her marriage…  Steve was speechless.