Monday, July 23, 2012

SOCIAL ROT

I am not very old but from the stories I am told by those older than me lets me conclude with certainty that as we become more 'modern', social evils increase. There is one particular evil that I will never be able to comprehend....RAPE.

All rape stories are sad. It leaves you imagining just what the victim must have been going through. How scared they must have been and just what state they are left in when it is all over. For them I think it is never really over.

One rape story that really got to me was of a very young girl. She was barely a year old when it happened. The asshole responsible was someone she would have grown to call daddy; it was her mother's boyfriend. He violated her and left her for the dead.

She was found by her grandmother and was in hospital for a few months. There are a few sad facts about this story. One, her mother ran away after she found out what had happened. She was afraid she would be arrested but that is no excuse. I am not a mother yet but I believe a mother should protect her children with her life if she has to.

The second sad fact is that the only way the little angel's life could be saved was to remove her uterus. She has probably forgotten what happened to her... .But what happens when she is older and wants to start her own family but she can't. How will anyone be able to explain why she will never be able to hold her own flesh and blood in her arms.

Its baffling what a man would see in a child to turn into such an animal. In all honesty, there are many women a man could go for. And if your game is that horrible, pay for sex. You will not be the first nor the last. Such men are weak and they are cowards whose punishment should be dire. I think they feel they need to prove they are men. Am not sure to who though. They feel they need to exercise their 'power' over their victims. But if the need is that dire, go punch something.....anything but not ruin a person's life in such a grotesque way.

I hope to have a family of my own soon. Babies to protect from this mad world, and I can promise them now as well as myself that if anyone ever comes close to my babies, I will dedicate my life to making them pay. Trust me, I can keep a grudge.

This is just one of those things that I think I will never understand about this crazy world. Y'all take care of yourself and your loved ones. Do what you have to to protect them.


Monday, July 16, 2012

GUILTY PLEASURE

Every time I see him especially after a period of time, my heart skips what in all honesty feels like more than one beat. His scent leaves me breathless....like I am anticipating something am afraid my body won't handle because of its awesomeness.

His smile is like that first ray of sunshine that caress your skin with such tenderness, the one you just want to busk in. His eyes seem to see right through you. Leave you feeling vulnerable and naked before them, like he can see exactly what you are feeling....eyes that say he knows the kind of feelings he evokes.

He is not the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve but he is gentle. He is not the kind to easily fall in love... He is more the kind who will make girls fall in love with him. He however loves earnestly if ever anyone evokes such kind of emotions from him.

He will not flatter you with words that do not come from his heart neither lie to make you smile. He will tell you the truth even when he knows it will hurt, but he knows you will forgive him. No one prefers a liar.

He will disappoint and most times that will suck, but he will try make it up. His joy is making another
 smile....the sound of laughter gets him through the day.

Most people do not know him as I do and I must say am honored that it was me above everyone else. He won't always say "I love you" but I know it doesn't mean that he does not feel it. His penetrating eyes always betray him.

He is a lot of things, but most of all, he is my guilty pleasure.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

FINDING MY WAY BACK

Making a big shift in life is never easy. I want to assume this is how it feels to drive a manual car for the first time having driven an automatic all your life. I never thought I would fall this deeply in love with writing. I never thought  it would give me such a rush- trying to put words together, trying to tell a story.

This is the only thing I have ever known. Writing is like that first friend. That first BFF you pinky swear that you will always be friends with. The one you tell all your innocent little secrets.This is until your family moves to another town miles away and you barely keep in-touch with the BFF. Eventually, they become a distant memory, one you wish you could find your way back to but  you just don't know how.

I recently got torn away from my BFF- writing- by a new job that has nothing to do with what I have come to love with such passion. It's a new experience, a new challenge. A way to prove to myself that I am  flexible, open minded. That I can make a living from pretty much anything.  I promised myself I would learn to love it. That I would keep an open and positive mind. I have to admit; that is easier said than done.

My biggest fear is losing my BFF. Never finding my way back to that genuine smile. That genuine rush. I am not a quitter though. I guess what I need to do is refine my lemonade making skills with all these lemons thrown at me.

I am trying to find my way back to my BFF. Trying to make her my haven. A safe place to let go of all my frustrations and fears. I want to go back to the pinky swear. I will find my way back.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Mum

When I was younger, a lot of things didn't make sense to me. This was reinforced when I went off to boarding school and learnt or realized-whichever you prefer- that my life, my family set up was not like that of most kids my age.

I didn't come from the city or any other big town like all my friends. I didn't have awesome stories to tell about where I had gone with my family for a family day out. I didn't have a dad to go on and on about. All I had was my mum and my grandparents.

I grew up with my grandparents both of who were disciplinarians; that should create a picture of what happened when I was at fault. My mum was mostly away working in the city and right before I went to boarding school I moved in with my mum's big sis. Mum would try really hard to come see me as often as she could. Sometimes I would miss her so much I would cry myself to sleep holding on to her blouse that she left behind from her previous visit. With time, I even learnt how she knocked.

I just couldn't understand why I couldn't just go live with her. I couldn't understand why I didn't have a dad like everyone else. It might look like I am complaining but am really just saying and when I look back now; I had a pretty awesome childhood. It might have appeared like I didn't have a lot of what other kids had but over the years of growing up I have learnt that I had a lot of what most kids didn't have.

I remember I once asked my mum why we did not live in Nairobi and I remember her looking at me with a tinge of pain in her eyes and saying that we couldn't all be the same but she would work really hard to always make me happy. That is a statement I will never forget; mostly because of how she said it-I assumed maybe she felt like she was letting me down- and the fact that this far in my life, she has kept her promise.

I know it has not been easy for her raising me all by herself and the fact that kids might not always understand somethings. I have never lacked a thing in my life. The times she couldn't get me something as fast as I would have wanted her to, she would tell me to give her a bit of time and she always delivered. I know I am not a mother to understand what mothers have to give up for their children but there is no doubt that she has sacrificed a lot for my happiness.

She is the strongest woman I know, always putting on a brave face when really her world might feel like it is falling apart. She is my hero and my inspiration and I hope that one day when I get a family of my own, I will do as good a job with my kids as she has with me.

Well, I don't know much about my dad apart from the fact that he must have been crazy not to  stick by mum's side but I guess in the end it was all for the best. He tried reaching out to me once though. I gave him a chance to redeem himself for being MIA for 20 years of my life but somehow he managed to fuck that up. At least I tried but we haven't talked for years and honestly I would rather it remains that way.

For what its worth, if ever it came to it, I would take a bullet to my head, catch a grenade and put my hand in the blade for her in a heartbeat. ( I hate that song by the way but as unrealistic as it sounds, I would do all those things for her)

Well I realize that this piece might feel  a bit emotional but trust me, its not half of what I was feeling when I wrote it. That couldn't be expressed in words. Its a piece meant to give a brief overview of my life, where I have come from and the lady who has worked her ass off to make it happen with the help of the Almighty of-course :-)

I love you mum.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

A Lover of Art

I am a lover of art. All kinds of art but I am only good at a few kinds of art. In this blog I will indulge in one kind of art, writing. People express themselves differently and the reason why my form of expression is through writing is because, writing defies time. My writing will remain even  when I am gone.

To be very honest with you, I am still very new at this, you know the whole writing business but I think I keep getting better, practice makes perfect right? Well this should be exciting and I hope you will enjoy my pieces as much as I will enjoy writing them.