THUS FAR

Beginning of the year, I wrote a piece on my hopes for the year  2013. All those hopes still stand and I must say that at least of them came to pass; that Kenyans voted peacefully. To be honest I am not sure what I want this post to be about . I guess I'll just write and hope it makes sense in the end.

I would be lying if I said that this year is turning out as I expected. This is both on the positive and negative side. Lets start with the sour so that it's washed away by the sweet in the end.

The last couple of months have been a little tough. Having a smile on my face and having that smile remain there for a while has been somewhat of a problem. That just isn't me. This and other issues have made me quite the introvert and it just feels like I just cannot help it. Anyway, I am glad to let you all know that so far I have kept it together. That is what is important right?

Onto the awesome part of 2013. Considering how my year started, there are a few things I thought I had to give up. I am pleased to tell you that I did not give up these things that I hold dear and it's all thanks to my dear beautiful mother. She has been of tremendous support it is just overwhelming. I hope one day I will make her unbelievably proud of me .

Well, 2013 is about four months old and to be honest I know the year is still kinda young but it is a little tiring feeling like you are just hanging by a thread. I am however very glad to have my loved ones around, my family, friends and my biggest fan; my baby.

I will do what I can. It's all one can do really. And I will keep hope alive. It is yet to be a great year but I know it is getting there.

TUSI BLEED NDIO WA LEAD

I thought I should borrow the post’s title from Juliani’s song because it sums up what every other Kenyan must be thinking right now. It’s funny that five years are already down the drain since the last elections which ended disastrously. Feels like no time has passed at all. That was one dark hour in Kenyan history.

The reason I am writing this post at one o’clock in the morning is because I am just from watching a South African movie called The Bang Bang Club. It was releases in 2010 but I stumbled upon it today.  It showcases the lives of four South African photojournalists who put their lives on the line to take pictures of the war that was going on at the moment in SA as it transitioned into democracy. Each and every one of these journalists made history in a way but that is beside the point.

These guys had to watch people butcher each other over difference they themselves did not understand. It just did not make sense. I honestly cannot relate because when our country plunged into chaos; I was still a journalism student. Most journalists in Kenya however can relate perfectly to this movie.

They were on the front line during the post election chaos and took pictures and videos that were viewed too graphic for broadcasting. They had to watch people get killed, women raped all for issues even those engaging in the violence did not understand.

After things sort of went back to normal, some journalists came together and made documentaries about the stories they covered during the chaos. I watched one of these documentaries and I must say, they used pictures and videos that did not see the light of day on TV or the newspapers. What people saw on the news was nothing but the tip of the ice berg as far as these documentaries go.

Kenyans across the country were greatly affected by images that were published and broadcasted. It makes me wonder, what if the media did not filter some of these pictures. Is that what it would take for people to understand that we just cannot afford to go back down that road? It is honestly not worth it.

The leaders you claim to be fighting for do not give a rat’s ass. Ask yourself if the country was to plunge back into chaos, do you have enough money to ship your whole family away to some international holiday destination before things cool down. I didn’t think so.

One of the photo journalists in Kenya who took some of the most gruesome pictures of the chaos said that; after the chaos stopped and people started rebuilding their lives…government leaders were approached and were shown some of the pictures. Most of them said that those pictures were not real; that there is no way that could have happened in Kenya. Do you know why? Because when people were butchering each other, these guys were not even around. They were probably lying on some warm beach.

When you spread hate or agree to be a vessel for violence, the only person you are hurting is yourself and the people who matter to you; people you should be protecting. That guy who promised you a thousand shillings to go cause chaos will watch as you die. He/she will be surrounded by a human shield-body guards…he won’t even get a bruise on him.

I know life is pretty hard especially when you have no idea where the next meal is coming from. Just save that energy and look for bread instead of using it all up fighting your neighbor who is probably the only person who is ever there for you. When you fight, if you do not die in it then you will live with a guilty conscience all your life and your problems will not have solved themselves.

Let us do this voting thing peacefully. You know what; I say we try peace this time round and see if in the end we will be happier than the last time elections.

Well, I needed to write this. You have to take advantage when there’s a consistent flow of thoughts.  I feel much better now….and I am off to bed.

HOPES 2013

I think I have lost my touch. My touch in writing and it is a very scary feeling. Am experiencing what they call writer’s block. Don’t get me wrong; like any other writer; I have experienced this couple of times only this time it has lasted way too long. Or maybe it has been lifted…it’s sad that I can’t even tell.

Experts say that when a woman is under stress, it can adversely affect her libido. I think that is what is happening with my writing…my libido has been greatly compromised. Well you must be wondering what could be stressing me. Let’s just say that I recently found myself at that uncertain point when everyone wonders when there big break will just get here. I view this as a blessing in disguise though. Maybe I will finally be able to make something out of the love of this art-read writing.

Anyway, let’s not dwell on my inadequacies because this post should not be about that. It should be about my hopes for 2013. I recently made an attempt at independence; I moved out. This was probably my biggest achievement in 2012 and I am very proud of myself. Just like that attempt, I hope 2013 will be the year I gain independence with my art. By that I mean I hope that this year I will gain confidence with my writing; that I won’t be afraid to flaunt it because only then will I make mistakes and learn from them.

2013 is the year when Kenyans will usher in a different structure of government. As exciting as that is, it also holds a lot of fears for most Kenyans …post election violence. I can only hope that this year’s elections will be different. That Kenyans will not end butchering each other over leaders who lets admit do not care much.

I intend to face my fears this year. What I mean by that is I want 2013 to be the year I learn to be more assertive with the things I want. It will be the year I set the pace for the rest of my life because who am I kidding, I might be young but the sooner I figure things out the better.

I hope 2013 will be a year that the bond between me and my baby will only get stronger (yes, I am a hopeless romantic). I hope to get closer to my friends and family; the people I want to be part of my life for the long run.  On top of all this I hope to reignite my love affair with books into a bonfire (that bonfire will not be from burning books just so we are on the same page).

I know it doesn’t sound like much but those are just some of my hopes for 2013 but above everything; I hope 2013 will be successful and awesome for you. 2013, it’s me and you against the world.

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.

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.

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.

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.