I seem to write alot about traffic. Maybe it is because I spend so much time seated in traffic. I have learnt that in Kenya there are some things that are becoming predictable.
If you voted for Sonko, his style of leadership will always mock you.
MPs will find always find a new way to shock you.
Traffic will always choke you.
Hhmm, traffic makes me wax lyrical!
Needless to say, I hate sitting in traffic jams and if I am going to sit in traffic, my anger or lack of it will depend on the reason behind the traffic jam.Let me explain, zero level anger if there are children crossing, I will even throw a patient smile into the package. Medium level anger for a driver whose car has broken down in traffic and if the driver is a lady, a pitiful smile she will recieve. You know the kind of smile that says, tuko pamoja (we are together) even as I comfortably sit in my car as she haggles with the rogue roadside mechanics. If the cause is a matatu misbehaving, I will have finally found an outlet for my pent up anger. My anger with my boss. My anger with my client. Did I mention I am angry that the Beckhams chose a ridiculous name for their baby gal? Harper Seven? Do not wonder where that comes from ... I have misplaced anger!
I even believe that traffic is mentioned in the bible. My bible says there is a time for everything. Yes, traffic was even prophesied … Be still and know that I am God. That verse has been so relevant when I have been tempted jump traffic lights.
So you can understand my frustration the other day when after having driven all of 5 minutes from my house I was caught up in traffic. Then I heard on radio that most of the roads in Nairobi had been turned into parking lots, the presidential motorcade was the reason for our nightmare. I seethed over how cops cleared the roads for the presidential motorcade even before the president boarded his flight from whichever country. I complained about how the president’s handlers should take into consideration all factors when confirming his itinerary and some basic ground rules to get us started.
Never should he leave State House on a Friday. Never venture on the road at the end of the month. Never should he go anywhere after 4pm on any weekday.
Does he not know what traffic the ordinary citizen goes through? Hhmm, do not even get me started on how that phrase “ordinary citizen” irks me. And my whining did not end in there, I gave it posterity … I posted it on face book! And so with like minded individuals, we whiled away time or was that whined away time? Well, I looked at my watch and only 25 minutes had passed.
And as I sat there, I began to make peace with my long wait. I told you traffic had spiritual sprinkle. I figured instead of getting angry, I might as well fantasize. And since I was going to fantasize, why not make it grand. I can afford that ….it may still be the only thing I can comfortably afford given the state of the economy any way!
I wondered what it would be like to be the president for a day. As I thought about the things that I would be able to do on that day, I quickly realized that this dream needed to be scaled. You see, there were so many things to do and being president for a day would not help anyone. After all, that day would all be taken up in the business of being sworn into office. A week would not be enough either, State House has too many rooms and I would need time to tour my home. A year would be necessary to just settle in to office and read all the books on protocol. Ok, I would not read them per se but someone has to read them and then brief me.
It occurred to me that it was totally unfair to give a president only two five year terms as per the new constitution. There would be sooo much to do and such little time.
And then I started thinking of the ways in which I would save time.
To begin with, I would never waste time sitting in traffic. I would have people clear the road for me as I attended to important state issues.
And then it hit me that it was exactly for that reason I was seated in traffic.
My anger dissipated. I patiently sat in traffic for 3 hours.
Yes, we are all culpable.
Speck. Brother’s eye. Log. My eye.
Blessings y’all!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Healed by a Smile
I got a call from my friend this morning and he told me about the passing on of our mutual friend.He died peacefully in his sleep last night. They found him in bed this morning with a smile on his face.
Babu’s smile has warmed my heart in such a special way since I met him in 2009.
You see I met him the first time on 8th October, 2009. Yes, I remember that day vividly.
I had been invited to speak at a forum in Kisumu, a huge group of about five hundred or so. One guy unnerved me. He was seated at the front. He was introduced as the head of some organization and was also head of the delegation from Congo. I guessed he was about sixty years old. He had been given the cards of each of the speakers.
When I stood to speak, he looked at my business card and then looked at me.
Removed his spectacles and looked at me again. Back to the card. Me again.
Slowly mouthed my name. Shook his head. Placed the card on the table and wrote something on the back of it.
He just stared at me. It was unnerving.
Was it not bad enough that my presentation was on homosexuality? Yes, I felt like a wet lion in den of daniels.
During the presentation, there were questions and as expected, the discussions got heated. Very heated. After all, we were discussing homosexuality and the church in Africa. But this guy never said anything. I could not read any expression on his face. He was not hostile. He was not smiling either. He was just staring at me.
When we took a lunch break. He picked his meal and took his place at a corner. He continued staring at me. He had still said nothing. This was getting creepy.
Why was he staring at me like that?
Well, meeting ended and as I was packing my laptop and stuff up, he came to me and asked what I thought were the most ridiculous questions.
He asked me if I used to own a smallish white car in 2002. He asked if I used a certain route to work every morning at that period in time. He asked if I used to leave my house at about 7.15am. I said yes to all this questions. After a brief pause, he slowly quoted the registration number of my first car, KAE 951N. This was getting creepy.Who was this guy?
Then he stretched his hand and I shook his outstretched hand. My hand disappeared in his huge hand. He was big and burly. Then his face cracked a smile. Then he started laughing. A loud thunderous laughter while still holding my hand.My whole body vibrated as he roared. Then he asked, "Can I hug you?" And before I could answer, he grabbed me and hugged me. Tight.
The only reason why I was not yet screaming is because there were other people in the room.
When he finally let me go and I was breathless, disheveled and ready to run for dear life,he said the most amazing thing. He said I saved his life.
By this time you could knock me down with a feather. Yes, me and all of my none-of-your-business kilos.
Then he started to explain.
You see, at that said time of his life, his only daughter had just passed away in the UK where she was a working. Medical reports revealed she had died HIV/AIDS related complications. She was in a same sex relationship. He had sent her there because he believed it was easier and safer for her. Homophobia was too rife in Africa. She had been all he had. Her mother had passed away shortly after Jenny his daughter was born. He was hurting and lost and angry with God. He wanted to die. Yes, he was a very successful business man but he wanted to die. Life had lost meaning. For a year, everything was mundane. He was also struggling with drugs and alcohol. He was 66 years and he was tired.
So where did I fit in all this?
Well, apparently, something I used to do in traffic made a difference in his life.
I used to smile and wave at total strangers in traffic!!
You see, for that one year when all was bleak,this guy looked forward to my wave and smile. I reminded him so much of his daughter. I had a smile like hers. He looked forward to seeing me every morning. I looked so alive and happy. I made him believe there was hope.
He sold his company, made a handsome profit and went to UK and undertook a degree in Psychology.
He then made peace with a God He had been angry with for so long. A God he had sought all his life. He was now running an organization that offered psychological support for those in same sex relationships.
This was the first time he had come back to Kenya since December 2002.
He said he never forgot my face and when he planned his trip to Kenya, he told God he hoped he would meet me. And there I was.
By this time,my tears had started to flow freely.Ok, I lie. I was sobbing like a baby. When my sobs subsided, I explained.
You see, I had lost my boyfriend in a car jacking incident early that very year and I feared driving. No, I hated driving. But I had purposed to go on one day at a time. So every morning, I woke up and said, "The joy of the Lord is my strength." I had to convince myself even before I began my day! I would get into the car and smile. Smile to total strangers. Wave at total strangers.
I figured that as long as I was smiling, I could not cry. I had cried for so long and I needed to start smiling.
There were those people I met in traffic daily and I would wave and smile on the way to work.
Smiling at strangers was therapeutic for me.I could not be angry with the world if I was smiling at the world.
Babu cried. I cried. We had a bond.
Babu never called me by name. He always called me Malaika.
We kept in touch. He would call me when he would be in the country and we would meet for a cup of coffee. Always Java. Always cappuccino. Always Sugarless. He always chided me for having a sweet tooth, just like Jenny had.
And he regularly sent me text messages. Sometimes just one statement ....I am praying for you.
Last time I saw him was when he diagnosed with prostate cancer late last year. He had come to see a doctor in Nairobi and together with some friends, we prayed with him. He did not want to go through chemotherapy. He was at peace. He said he was ready to meet his daughter and his wife. He said his work was done. He said he wanted to go home.
And this morning, at the age of 79 years, Babu went to be with the Lord with a smile on his face.
In God's way, my pain had healed Babu's pain. Yes, we had both been healed by a smile.
You were so brave Babu. When we spoke and you were in pain, you always asked me not to cry but to smile. You told me my smile healed you. And when you were to weak to call or text, you used to text me a smiley face.And I would send you 2 smiley faces. You would send me 3. And we could go on and on, trying to out smile each other as it were.
So even today as I mourn your passing on, I will not cry Babu ...I will smile. I cannot cry as long as am smiling.
I promise to smile as they cremate you tomorrow.
Yes, once again my heart will be healed by a smile.
Say hi to Jenny and her mama.
Say hi to Charles too. Tell him I am happy. Tell him the story of how a smile healed me when he died. How the same smile healed you.
Yes, it is still a smile even as tears roll down my face.
Rest in Peace Babu!!
Babu’s smile has warmed my heart in such a special way since I met him in 2009.
You see I met him the first time on 8th October, 2009. Yes, I remember that day vividly.
I had been invited to speak at a forum in Kisumu, a huge group of about five hundred or so. One guy unnerved me. He was seated at the front. He was introduced as the head of some organization and was also head of the delegation from Congo. I guessed he was about sixty years old. He had been given the cards of each of the speakers.
When I stood to speak, he looked at my business card and then looked at me.
Removed his spectacles and looked at me again. Back to the card. Me again.
Slowly mouthed my name. Shook his head. Placed the card on the table and wrote something on the back of it.
He just stared at me. It was unnerving.
Was it not bad enough that my presentation was on homosexuality? Yes, I felt like a wet lion in den of daniels.
During the presentation, there were questions and as expected, the discussions got heated. Very heated. After all, we were discussing homosexuality and the church in Africa. But this guy never said anything. I could not read any expression on his face. He was not hostile. He was not smiling either. He was just staring at me.
When we took a lunch break. He picked his meal and took his place at a corner. He continued staring at me. He had still said nothing. This was getting creepy.
Why was he staring at me like that?
Well, meeting ended and as I was packing my laptop and stuff up, he came to me and asked what I thought were the most ridiculous questions.
He asked me if I used to own a smallish white car in 2002. He asked if I used a certain route to work every morning at that period in time. He asked if I used to leave my house at about 7.15am. I said yes to all this questions. After a brief pause, he slowly quoted the registration number of my first car, KAE 951N. This was getting creepy.Who was this guy?
Then he stretched his hand and I shook his outstretched hand. My hand disappeared in his huge hand. He was big and burly. Then his face cracked a smile. Then he started laughing. A loud thunderous laughter while still holding my hand.My whole body vibrated as he roared. Then he asked, "Can I hug you?" And before I could answer, he grabbed me and hugged me. Tight.
The only reason why I was not yet screaming is because there were other people in the room.
When he finally let me go and I was breathless, disheveled and ready to run for dear life,he said the most amazing thing. He said I saved his life.
By this time you could knock me down with a feather. Yes, me and all of my none-of-your-business kilos.
Then he started to explain.
You see, at that said time of his life, his only daughter had just passed away in the UK where she was a working. Medical reports revealed she had died HIV/AIDS related complications. She was in a same sex relationship. He had sent her there because he believed it was easier and safer for her. Homophobia was too rife in Africa. She had been all he had. Her mother had passed away shortly after Jenny his daughter was born. He was hurting and lost and angry with God. He wanted to die. Yes, he was a very successful business man but he wanted to die. Life had lost meaning. For a year, everything was mundane. He was also struggling with drugs and alcohol. He was 66 years and he was tired.
So where did I fit in all this?
Well, apparently, something I used to do in traffic made a difference in his life.
I used to smile and wave at total strangers in traffic!!
You see, for that one year when all was bleak,this guy looked forward to my wave and smile. I reminded him so much of his daughter. I had a smile like hers. He looked forward to seeing me every morning. I looked so alive and happy. I made him believe there was hope.
He sold his company, made a handsome profit and went to UK and undertook a degree in Psychology.
He then made peace with a God He had been angry with for so long. A God he had sought all his life. He was now running an organization that offered psychological support for those in same sex relationships.
This was the first time he had come back to Kenya since December 2002.
He said he never forgot my face and when he planned his trip to Kenya, he told God he hoped he would meet me. And there I was.
By this time,my tears had started to flow freely.Ok, I lie. I was sobbing like a baby. When my sobs subsided, I explained.
You see, I had lost my boyfriend in a car jacking incident early that very year and I feared driving. No, I hated driving. But I had purposed to go on one day at a time. So every morning, I woke up and said, "The joy of the Lord is my strength." I had to convince myself even before I began my day! I would get into the car and smile. Smile to total strangers. Wave at total strangers.
I figured that as long as I was smiling, I could not cry. I had cried for so long and I needed to start smiling.
There were those people I met in traffic daily and I would wave and smile on the way to work.
Smiling at strangers was therapeutic for me.I could not be angry with the world if I was smiling at the world.
Babu cried. I cried. We had a bond.
Babu never called me by name. He always called me Malaika.
We kept in touch. He would call me when he would be in the country and we would meet for a cup of coffee. Always Java. Always cappuccino. Always Sugarless. He always chided me for having a sweet tooth, just like Jenny had.
And he regularly sent me text messages. Sometimes just one statement ....I am praying for you.
Last time I saw him was when he diagnosed with prostate cancer late last year. He had come to see a doctor in Nairobi and together with some friends, we prayed with him. He did not want to go through chemotherapy. He was at peace. He said he was ready to meet his daughter and his wife. He said his work was done. He said he wanted to go home.
And this morning, at the age of 79 years, Babu went to be with the Lord with a smile on his face.
In God's way, my pain had healed Babu's pain. Yes, we had both been healed by a smile.
You were so brave Babu. When we spoke and you were in pain, you always asked me not to cry but to smile. You told me my smile healed you. And when you were to weak to call or text, you used to text me a smiley face.And I would send you 2 smiley faces. You would send me 3. And we could go on and on, trying to out smile each other as it were.
So even today as I mourn your passing on, I will not cry Babu ...I will smile. I cannot cry as long as am smiling.
I promise to smile as they cremate you tomorrow.
Yes, once again my heart will be healed by a smile.
Say hi to Jenny and her mama.
Say hi to Charles too. Tell him I am happy. Tell him the story of how a smile healed me when he died. How the same smile healed you.
Yes, it is still a smile even as tears roll down my face.
Rest in Peace Babu!!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Chapatti People
Let me start by declaring that I am a good cook.
Now that we are telling the truth, I need to also let you know that I make horrible chapattis. Who said chapattis must be round at all times? And as fate would have it, I got married to a man who can happily eat chapattis for breakfast, lunch, dinner and all the snacks in between. As for our son, the apple fell from the same tree or was it the chapatti from the same pan … am sure you get my drift!
Before I admitted I could not make chapattis, I spent hours trying to learn how to. Sat at the feet (or is it hands) of those adept in making them. Learnt the doughs and dough nots.
A friend who is gifted in making culinary delights once told me that making chapatti is a relationship. You have to keep working at it. It takes time, tenderness and patience to make the perfect chapatti. However, she lost this student when she said the dough needs to feel my love!
And yet there are such people in our lives. It does not matter what how hard you try, with them nothing ever seems to turn be right. If there is a fault to be found, they will find it. In fact, even if there is no fault, they will still find it. They ask the nosy questions. They ask them loudly. Their words are hurtful and hateful. Their sole purpose seems to be to teach you, nay, to try your patience. They seemingly cherish watching their words make others squirm.
They will ask you why your boyfriend of 5 + years has not yet proposed. And when will you have a baby? And how come you are not looking for a better paying job? Are you not planning to buy a house? Is it not time you got a new car?
For some reason, your answers are never good enough for these people. They do not know that your boyfriend has already proposed but you are not ready for marriage yet. That you have gone through a battery of tests together with your hubby in your search for a baby. That the job that you have fulfils you in a way that money cannot. That you are saving for the down payment of your dream house. That another car is not in your list of priorities right now.
They simply do not want to hear what you have to say. They do not care.
You only need you to hear what they have to say. Forget the fact that it is your life … they know what is good for you.
They are only saying this because they love you. They only want the best for you. So what if they have to kill you as they demonstrate this! Real love is not for sissies!They seem committed to literally love you to death.
They justify their insensitivity.
Indeed, they uphold the principle of equal opportunity. They disrespect everyone equally. They dislike all and sundry. Everyone who interacts with them will get a whiff of their negativity, their bitterness and their anger. It seems like they are discontent with everything. And they do not stop there, they are not just dissatisfied with their own life they are dissatisfied with yours as well!
Sadly, they make you second guess your life choices. Worse still, they may even make you doubt God. You see sometimes they ask you the questions that you have been asking God. Yes, the very questions that have seen you pounding on heaven’s doors.
I have learnt to refer to these special breed as the chapatti people.
One of the reasons that I have not been able to make chapattis is because I tend to think that effort must be seen in the results. It is for this reason that I will gladly marinate ribs for a week and loving turn them every 2 hours if that is what the recipe says. Why? Because the meat appreciates it and the final product is testimony to my effort. Not so with chapattis. It does not matter whether I spent an hour or a week lovingly preparing them, our relationship is doomed as they still turn out wrong!
These pain-inducing people could be your family, friends or colleagues, there is no escaping them,they are all around us and you cannot avoid them.
What is one to do? I learnt from Dr John Stanko that there is only one way to deal with this people, label them EGR – extra grace required. Grace not to strangle them.Grace to respectively tell them to back off.Grace to be gracious even when they are not.
It does not matter how hard I try, I can never get it right when it comes to these people. And that is ok with me. If I am good enough for me, why is that not good enough for you?
So next time you encounter a chapatti person, slap on them some EGR … they will be more palatable!
Blessings y’all!
Now that we are telling the truth, I need to also let you know that I make horrible chapattis. Who said chapattis must be round at all times? And as fate would have it, I got married to a man who can happily eat chapattis for breakfast, lunch, dinner and all the snacks in between. As for our son, the apple fell from the same tree or was it the chapatti from the same pan … am sure you get my drift!
Before I admitted I could not make chapattis, I spent hours trying to learn how to. Sat at the feet (or is it hands) of those adept in making them. Learnt the doughs and dough nots.
A friend who is gifted in making culinary delights once told me that making chapatti is a relationship. You have to keep working at it. It takes time, tenderness and patience to make the perfect chapatti. However, she lost this student when she said the dough needs to feel my love!
And yet there are such people in our lives. It does not matter what how hard you try, with them nothing ever seems to turn be right. If there is a fault to be found, they will find it. In fact, even if there is no fault, they will still find it. They ask the nosy questions. They ask them loudly. Their words are hurtful and hateful. Their sole purpose seems to be to teach you, nay, to try your patience. They seemingly cherish watching their words make others squirm.
They will ask you why your boyfriend of 5 + years has not yet proposed. And when will you have a baby? And how come you are not looking for a better paying job? Are you not planning to buy a house? Is it not time you got a new car?
For some reason, your answers are never good enough for these people. They do not know that your boyfriend has already proposed but you are not ready for marriage yet. That you have gone through a battery of tests together with your hubby in your search for a baby. That the job that you have fulfils you in a way that money cannot. That you are saving for the down payment of your dream house. That another car is not in your list of priorities right now.
They simply do not want to hear what you have to say. They do not care.
You only need you to hear what they have to say. Forget the fact that it is your life … they know what is good for you.
They are only saying this because they love you. They only want the best for you. So what if they have to kill you as they demonstrate this! Real love is not for sissies!They seem committed to literally love you to death.
They justify their insensitivity.
Indeed, they uphold the principle of equal opportunity. They disrespect everyone equally. They dislike all and sundry. Everyone who interacts with them will get a whiff of their negativity, their bitterness and their anger. It seems like they are discontent with everything. And they do not stop there, they are not just dissatisfied with their own life they are dissatisfied with yours as well!
Sadly, they make you second guess your life choices. Worse still, they may even make you doubt God. You see sometimes they ask you the questions that you have been asking God. Yes, the very questions that have seen you pounding on heaven’s doors.
I have learnt to refer to these special breed as the chapatti people.
One of the reasons that I have not been able to make chapattis is because I tend to think that effort must be seen in the results. It is for this reason that I will gladly marinate ribs for a week and loving turn them every 2 hours if that is what the recipe says. Why? Because the meat appreciates it and the final product is testimony to my effort. Not so with chapattis. It does not matter whether I spent an hour or a week lovingly preparing them, our relationship is doomed as they still turn out wrong!
These pain-inducing people could be your family, friends or colleagues, there is no escaping them,they are all around us and you cannot avoid them.
What is one to do? I learnt from Dr John Stanko that there is only one way to deal with this people, label them EGR – extra grace required. Grace not to strangle them.Grace to respectively tell them to back off.Grace to be gracious even when they are not.
It does not matter how hard I try, I can never get it right when it comes to these people. And that is ok with me. If I am good enough for me, why is that not good enough for you?
So next time you encounter a chapatti person, slap on them some EGR … they will be more palatable!
Blessings y’all!
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Will You Unmarry Me?
In 2000, I met Mwende. She was beautiful. She had a great figure. It gave me so much pleasure to show her off. I was in love. Wipe the sneer off your face. You see, Mwende was my first car, a white Toyota starlet, KAE 951N.
It did not matter to me she was 3rd hand having had 2 previous owners, she was mine and I had pledged undying love. That was until I put her on the road. I started noticing other cars around me. My Mwende was a very basic car just a box on wheels and this hit me even more when I looked at other cars in traffic. They had spoilers. They had sports rims. Spotlights. Bullbars. My lovely Mwende was loosing her allure and fast!
It is the same with marriage. In my humble opinion, once you get married, once you commit yourself to that one man / woman suddenly better looking men / women appear all around you. I say “better looking” because you may know nothing about them but they still seem like a better option than the person you woke up next to. This is especially so if you are in the middle of a spat with your spouse.
And that is the thing about this temptation thing! It would be so much easier to deal with temptation if it was not so alluring. If temptation showed up dressed in a sackcloth then the decision to walk away is easy but the trouble with the world today is because temptation wakes up, showers, gets dressed and looks so good, smells so nice ….ah, so tempting! “Till death do us part” becomes a noose tightening daily. “Death” could be any challenge - infidelity, careers, in-laws, childlessness etc.
You see, this month my dear hubby and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. As different people congratulated us on our 7th anniversary, one jokingly asked about the 7-year itch. It is basically said that after 7 years of togetherness, there is an “itch”, an inclination to be unfaithful.
I like to think the reason why I have not had to deal with the 7 year itch is because I deal with my “itch” daily. Any marriage longer than 1 day can find grounds for separating but the challenge is to make a decision each day to find grounds for staying married. I purpose to make that choice daily. I pray for strength to make the right choices daily.
It would be a blatant lie if I said it has been a walk in the park. It would be an even bigger lie to say that since we are both Christians, when we have a dispute we sit down, hold hands and sing kum-ba-ya. Truth is there have been times when we have held hands because that was the only way to keep the darn things from each other’s throat.
I remember one particularly rocky time in the early days when I wearily asked if it would simply be easier for us to end our marriage and my hubby said that is ok but he had just one condition for us to do that. He reminded me that when we got married, we had printed 500 invitation cards and so for us to end the marriage, could we please print another 500 cards and invite guests to witness our separation just as we had invited them to witness our coming together? I realized this guy was nuttier than I was ….so I chose to stay with him I figured that I need to protect him from himself! I think his story is he needs to protect me from me but hey, so far so good!
A story is told of a guy who found his neighbor out in the street one night frantically looking for something using the street light. The guy asked what he was looking for and the neighbor said he had lost his key. So the guy went on his knees and joined the search. After looking for some time the guy asked him if he was sure this was where he had lost it. The neighbor looked at him and said no, he had lost the key in his house but the lighting in the street was better!
That is the folly of marriages today.
When and where did you lose your key?
How, when and where are you looking for it?
Blessings y’all!
It did not matter to me she was 3rd hand having had 2 previous owners, she was mine and I had pledged undying love. That was until I put her on the road. I started noticing other cars around me. My Mwende was a very basic car just a box on wheels and this hit me even more when I looked at other cars in traffic. They had spoilers. They had sports rims. Spotlights. Bullbars. My lovely Mwende was loosing her allure and fast!
It is the same with marriage. In my humble opinion, once you get married, once you commit yourself to that one man / woman suddenly better looking men / women appear all around you. I say “better looking” because you may know nothing about them but they still seem like a better option than the person you woke up next to. This is especially so if you are in the middle of a spat with your spouse.
And that is the thing about this temptation thing! It would be so much easier to deal with temptation if it was not so alluring. If temptation showed up dressed in a sackcloth then the decision to walk away is easy but the trouble with the world today is because temptation wakes up, showers, gets dressed and looks so good, smells so nice ….ah, so tempting! “Till death do us part” becomes a noose tightening daily. “Death” could be any challenge - infidelity, careers, in-laws, childlessness etc.
You see, this month my dear hubby and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. As different people congratulated us on our 7th anniversary, one jokingly asked about the 7-year itch. It is basically said that after 7 years of togetherness, there is an “itch”, an inclination to be unfaithful.
I like to think the reason why I have not had to deal with the 7 year itch is because I deal with my “itch” daily. Any marriage longer than 1 day can find grounds for separating but the challenge is to make a decision each day to find grounds for staying married. I purpose to make that choice daily. I pray for strength to make the right choices daily.
It would be a blatant lie if I said it has been a walk in the park. It would be an even bigger lie to say that since we are both Christians, when we have a dispute we sit down, hold hands and sing kum-ba-ya. Truth is there have been times when we have held hands because that was the only way to keep the darn things from each other’s throat.
I remember one particularly rocky time in the early days when I wearily asked if it would simply be easier for us to end our marriage and my hubby said that is ok but he had just one condition for us to do that. He reminded me that when we got married, we had printed 500 invitation cards and so for us to end the marriage, could we please print another 500 cards and invite guests to witness our separation just as we had invited them to witness our coming together? I realized this guy was nuttier than I was ….so I chose to stay with him I figured that I need to protect him from himself! I think his story is he needs to protect me from me but hey, so far so good!
A story is told of a guy who found his neighbor out in the street one night frantically looking for something using the street light. The guy asked what he was looking for and the neighbor said he had lost his key. So the guy went on his knees and joined the search. After looking for some time the guy asked him if he was sure this was where he had lost it. The neighbor looked at him and said no, he had lost the key in his house but the lighting in the street was better!
That is the folly of marriages today.
When and where did you lose your key?
How, when and where are you looking for it?
Blessings y’all!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
My Blogging Journey
I have been blogging for the last eight months or so and it is something I have really been enjoying doing. Starting was darn hard because you see am not this IT savvy gal and the even the language was enough to get one lost.
For some reason “blog” does not always sound like something one should do in public … sounds like one of those things where we all know everyone does it and in fact if you were not doing it, you would go see a doctor to make sure there is no blogage, er, blockage.
So before actually starting my blog I decided to join a virtual community of bloggers just to get the hang of it.
It sounded like fun and hey, am as friendly as they next gal so I jumped in with all the gusto I could muster. You do realize that when you are my size, “jumping in with gusto…” is something one can only do virtually once in a while.
Well, for some reason this gal (well that is what her profile said) began to chat with me. I was excited, I had only been online for 30 minutes and someone was already chatting with me! Forget that she was Ursula in Czech Republic and it was 3.17am their time… it was a live person, er, they do not have computers that can self-chat yet do they?
Well, our conversation did not last long as you will see.
Ursula : Hey!
Me: Hey!
Ursula: Welcome on board
Me: Thanks
Ursula : So you blog, wow, am starting next week. URL?
Me: (Blushing slightly) Actually my weight fluctuates a lot so thanks but am really and XXL.
Ursula: (looooong pause)
Me: You still there?
Me: RUL? I would like to become an L at some point. Been going to the gym, watching what I eat and I have moved from being an XXXL.
Then SHE LOGGED OFF!!
Well, next thing I knew, I received an email from someone who identified himself at Chat Room Administrator ….who he stated, coldly I may add ... that it would seem I am not an intellectually good match for the kind of stimulating interaction they offer and I need to find a chat room that allows minimal cranial development for uniquely fortuned individual on an alternative career path who may or may not be chemically inconvinieced.
A week later I realized he meant that I needed to look for a chat room that allowed stupidity for losers who may or may not be stoned!!
Well, this gal was not discouraged and so I went ahead and began blogging and even invited people to watch me blog and I have not yet been arrested for blogging in public!!
By the way, the email from the so-called Chat Room Administrator was all in capital letters...is that bloggiquette?
Blessings y’all!
For some reason “blog” does not always sound like something one should do in public … sounds like one of those things where we all know everyone does it and in fact if you were not doing it, you would go see a doctor to make sure there is no blogage, er, blockage.
So before actually starting my blog I decided to join a virtual community of bloggers just to get the hang of it.
It sounded like fun and hey, am as friendly as they next gal so I jumped in with all the gusto I could muster. You do realize that when you are my size, “jumping in with gusto…” is something one can only do virtually once in a while.
Well, for some reason this gal (well that is what her profile said) began to chat with me. I was excited, I had only been online for 30 minutes and someone was already chatting with me! Forget that she was Ursula in Czech Republic and it was 3.17am their time… it was a live person, er, they do not have computers that can self-chat yet do they?
Well, our conversation did not last long as you will see.
Ursula : Hey!
Me: Hey!
Ursula: Welcome on board
Me: Thanks
Ursula : So you blog, wow, am starting next week. URL?
Me: (Blushing slightly) Actually my weight fluctuates a lot so thanks but am really and XXL.
Ursula: (looooong pause)
Me: You still there?
Me: RUL? I would like to become an L at some point. Been going to the gym, watching what I eat and I have moved from being an XXXL.
Then SHE LOGGED OFF!!
Well, next thing I knew, I received an email from someone who identified himself at Chat Room Administrator ….who he stated, coldly I may add ... that it would seem I am not an intellectually good match for the kind of stimulating interaction they offer and I need to find a chat room that allows minimal cranial development for uniquely fortuned individual on an alternative career path who may or may not be chemically inconvinieced.
A week later I realized he meant that I needed to look for a chat room that allowed stupidity for losers who may or may not be stoned!!
Well, this gal was not discouraged and so I went ahead and began blogging and even invited people to watch me blog and I have not yet been arrested for blogging in public!!
By the way, the email from the so-called Chat Room Administrator was all in capital letters...is that bloggiquette?
Blessings y’all!
Monday, March 28, 2011
Everythingist or Nothingist
Now that you have gone ahead and given this article a chance beyond the title … I thank you!
I have spent a good part of this morning engaging in intellectual intercourse with great friends on face book about 2 different links that one of them posted. The discussion was refreshing and I was in my element giving as good as I got. Yes, I know, if my boss reads this then I will have to explain why I was having intercourse in the office but for now I have three words about that ….bridge, cross, later.
Several things that came out in these discussions and really in every day life when I think about it is that we are a society that loves to judge. We judge everything. People. Writers. Schools. Countries. You name it, we judge it! And I am no better. I am right there at the top of that file …. I am shallow, I am narrow (forget about my waist) and therefore I judged based on my shallowness and narrowness. Or is it from my shallowcity and narrowcity? Yes, I see you judging not just me but my English teachers, the schools I went to and even my MS word version which is not correcting me.
So what is the option?
Would you rather not be in situations where you are not judged at all? Then does that not mean that you have judged those who do not judge as being non-judgemental? Before I completely loose myselfin this, let me give you background on what triggered this train of thought.
Yes, the discussion this morning pushed me over the cliff into writing this article but that is not where the question of being judgemental or not was born. Infact, the initial idea was not about being judgemental or not, it was about life and having an opinion. Anyone who knows me will tell you I have an opinion about everything and I do not understand how anyone cannot! How can you feel nothing about the length of the skirt that the judge will wear when she makes her ruling on the Ocampo Six? What has the sex of the judges got to do with the length of the said skirt? Oops, I digress…
You see I recently met a guy who was my classmate way back in primary school in the 80s. STOP trying to work out my age and stay with me! He walked into a restaurant and the only available seat was next to me. I was in deep communion with myself … pondering if I should have an ice cream sundae or should I have an ice cream sundae? Well, he said hi and when I looked up and realized it was someone I knew. Two things happened immediately. First was that I noticed he looked rather depressed and secondly, right there and then I also realized I needed to insulate myself up so that his low-spirit does not catch up with me … I ordered an ice cream sundae….do not judge me, it was for my sanity!
We started with the usual small talk, the psychosocial impact of ice cream sundae on the economy and soon enough conversation gravitated towards real life. I asked what was wrong as he seemed downcast. Well, that opened the flood gates! He told me that his business was going downhill and the only person who could save him was his partner and there was no chance of her being interested in saving him as he had just come from seeing a lawyer because the said business partner wanted to pull out of the business and yes, their marriage. His business partner was his wife and she had more shareholding than him.
By this time, my ice cream should have lost its appeal but am glad it did not… that appeal was the one reminder I had that there are still good things in this life!
As we talked I asked what had happened to the business and he said “Nothing.”
I asked what happened to the marriage and he said “Nothing.”
I asked what happened at the lawyers and again, he said, “Nothing.”
I had to get a new angle.
I asked what his wife did in terms of the business and he said, “Everything.”
What about the marriage and the family? He said, “Everything.”
What does she want now? He said, “Everything.”
Again, I needed to change tact or hit him with an empty ice cream sundae bowl. Empty because there is no need to waste good ice cream!
So I asked what he was going to do. He said, “Nothing.”
“But you will loose everything?” I asked.
“I feel nothing.” He responded.
By the way, did I mention that this guy had nothing as I devoured my ice cream sundae? Nothing looked good to him, pun fully intended.
Well, at the end of that conversation, I went away feeling sorry for this guy. You see for him the world was seen in only two lenses, he had nothing, felt nothing, had done nothing, could do nothing and yes, he said it, he was worth nothing. On the other hand, others had everything, could do everything and I am assuming he felt they were worth everything!
Yes, I can imagine the pain of loss, loss of family, loss of business and all other accompanying losses. However, in my humble opinion, loss of self is worse than all this. To me, loss of self includes the inability to feel anything, see anything, want anything, hate anything …. Life becomes nothing!
The flip side could be feel everything, want everything, see everything, hate everything does life then become everything?
Well, given the 2 choices, I would rather be an everythingist than a nothingist.
Yes, there are days when everything goes wrong and everything overwhelms me and everything I touch turns to old but I would still prefer that to nothing.
So even in our discourse with my friends this morning, there were comments that made me feel everything all at once, irritation, amusement and even anger and am sure my friends felt the same way about some of the comments I made. In fact, it is obvious that if they felt nothing about everything I commented, then that conversation would not have gone on and on.
For a nothingist, life means nothing.
Yes, in this life you can be either an everythingist or nothingist. You can be a somethingist. An anythingist. Or even a okeyist. But please do not be a nothingist!!
So yes, I am an everythingist and I will do everything to protect everything that defines me as I uncover everything am supposed to be!
Blessings y’all!
I have spent a good part of this morning engaging in intellectual intercourse with great friends on face book about 2 different links that one of them posted. The discussion was refreshing and I was in my element giving as good as I got. Yes, I know, if my boss reads this then I will have to explain why I was having intercourse in the office but for now I have three words about that ….bridge, cross, later.
Several things that came out in these discussions and really in every day life when I think about it is that we are a society that loves to judge. We judge everything. People. Writers. Schools. Countries. You name it, we judge it! And I am no better. I am right there at the top of that file …. I am shallow, I am narrow (forget about my waist) and therefore I judged based on my shallowness and narrowness. Or is it from my shallowcity and narrowcity? Yes, I see you judging not just me but my English teachers, the schools I went to and even my MS word version which is not correcting me.
So what is the option?
Would you rather not be in situations where you are not judged at all? Then does that not mean that you have judged those who do not judge as being non-judgemental? Before I completely loose myselfin this, let me give you background on what triggered this train of thought.
Yes, the discussion this morning pushed me over the cliff into writing this article but that is not where the question of being judgemental or not was born. Infact, the initial idea was not about being judgemental or not, it was about life and having an opinion. Anyone who knows me will tell you I have an opinion about everything and I do not understand how anyone cannot! How can you feel nothing about the length of the skirt that the judge will wear when she makes her ruling on the Ocampo Six? What has the sex of the judges got to do with the length of the said skirt? Oops, I digress…
You see I recently met a guy who was my classmate way back in primary school in the 80s. STOP trying to work out my age and stay with me! He walked into a restaurant and the only available seat was next to me. I was in deep communion with myself … pondering if I should have an ice cream sundae or should I have an ice cream sundae? Well, he said hi and when I looked up and realized it was someone I knew. Two things happened immediately. First was that I noticed he looked rather depressed and secondly, right there and then I also realized I needed to insulate myself up so that his low-spirit does not catch up with me … I ordered an ice cream sundae….do not judge me, it was for my sanity!
We started with the usual small talk, the psychosocial impact of ice cream sundae on the economy and soon enough conversation gravitated towards real life. I asked what was wrong as he seemed downcast. Well, that opened the flood gates! He told me that his business was going downhill and the only person who could save him was his partner and there was no chance of her being interested in saving him as he had just come from seeing a lawyer because the said business partner wanted to pull out of the business and yes, their marriage. His business partner was his wife and she had more shareholding than him.
By this time, my ice cream should have lost its appeal but am glad it did not… that appeal was the one reminder I had that there are still good things in this life!
As we talked I asked what had happened to the business and he said “Nothing.”
I asked what happened to the marriage and he said “Nothing.”
I asked what happened at the lawyers and again, he said, “Nothing.”
I had to get a new angle.
I asked what his wife did in terms of the business and he said, “Everything.”
What about the marriage and the family? He said, “Everything.”
What does she want now? He said, “Everything.”
Again, I needed to change tact or hit him with an empty ice cream sundae bowl. Empty because there is no need to waste good ice cream!
So I asked what he was going to do. He said, “Nothing.”
“But you will loose everything?” I asked.
“I feel nothing.” He responded.
By the way, did I mention that this guy had nothing as I devoured my ice cream sundae? Nothing looked good to him, pun fully intended.
Well, at the end of that conversation, I went away feeling sorry for this guy. You see for him the world was seen in only two lenses, he had nothing, felt nothing, had done nothing, could do nothing and yes, he said it, he was worth nothing. On the other hand, others had everything, could do everything and I am assuming he felt they were worth everything!
Yes, I can imagine the pain of loss, loss of family, loss of business and all other accompanying losses. However, in my humble opinion, loss of self is worse than all this. To me, loss of self includes the inability to feel anything, see anything, want anything, hate anything …. Life becomes nothing!
The flip side could be feel everything, want everything, see everything, hate everything does life then become everything?
Well, given the 2 choices, I would rather be an everythingist than a nothingist.
Yes, there are days when everything goes wrong and everything overwhelms me and everything I touch turns to old but I would still prefer that to nothing.
So even in our discourse with my friends this morning, there were comments that made me feel everything all at once, irritation, amusement and even anger and am sure my friends felt the same way about some of the comments I made. In fact, it is obvious that if they felt nothing about everything I commented, then that conversation would not have gone on and on.
For a nothingist, life means nothing.
Yes, in this life you can be either an everythingist or nothingist. You can be a somethingist. An anythingist. Or even a okeyist. But please do not be a nothingist!!
So yes, I am an everythingist and I will do everything to protect everything that defines me as I uncover everything am supposed to be!
Blessings y’all!
Monday, March 7, 2011
Why I am Angry
Chinua Achebe said that proverbs are the palm wine with which words are spoken. That I agree, because some conversations are so dull without some wine to dull and lull the mind, many would get choked and even more would get shocked.
Then again there can be too much of a good thing as has happened to me recently. I stumbled upon compilation of proverbs and sayings from all continents. And that was the beginning of my problems and by reading this, your problems by extension.
You see, I wanted my words to be swallowed easily aka Chinua Achebe and even if they are not, I figured that if I used enough proverbs, the listeners would be so high on my “palm wine” they will not notice the anger in what I am saying.
That brings me to those that speak to us, sorry at us (read parliamentarians) often and loudly. Yes, politicians seem to be a favorite punching bag for many writers but may be it is because when a head is too big, it cannot avoid punches.
Why all the bickering? You would think that by now they have learnt that a man who lives in glass house should change clothes in basement though I guess when one is being carried, he does not care how far the town is. Comical er, sorry, political alliances are being formed daily with hitherto sworn enemies, do they realize that before you go out with a widow, you must first ask her what killed the husband? Have they not learnt the lesson that nobody holds the cow while another milks it?
They spend their 5 year terms disrespecting the poor citizens but that is ok, I hope that I speak on behalf of the same electorate when I say we have learnt better and they might as be warned that just because you are taller than your father, that does not make you older or wiser than him. Indeed, any river that forgets its source will surely dry up. It is time to realize that we the electorate will no longer swallow poison because we are afraid of spitting and offending others!
So we sang the national anthem the other day and yes, many were skeptical … but they forget that it was the heartfelt prayer of many Kenyans being lifted to the heavens. Parliament needs to know that if you see a man going to his farm in kente cloth, do not jump into conclusion that he is very rich, that probably may be the his only cloth available. Remember the men who have been setting themselves ablaze allover Arab countries … they were not doing so because they were feeling cold neither did they do it because they had some extra paraffin!
Lawmakers must listen to Kenyans! Many are jobless, hungry and angry. A small spark can set this dry grass ablaze. Surely, only a madman goes to bed with his roof on fire …just ask Gadaffi and Mubarak!
I know some of you may wonder why the vitriol but I say they are high on power and it is time for us to say to them what Confucius says to those that smoke pot … man who smoke pot might choke on handle!
Blessings y'all!
Then again there can be too much of a good thing as has happened to me recently. I stumbled upon compilation of proverbs and sayings from all continents. And that was the beginning of my problems and by reading this, your problems by extension.
You see, I wanted my words to be swallowed easily aka Chinua Achebe and even if they are not, I figured that if I used enough proverbs, the listeners would be so high on my “palm wine” they will not notice the anger in what I am saying.
That brings me to those that speak to us, sorry at us (read parliamentarians) often and loudly. Yes, politicians seem to be a favorite punching bag for many writers but may be it is because when a head is too big, it cannot avoid punches.
Why all the bickering? You would think that by now they have learnt that a man who lives in glass house should change clothes in basement though I guess when one is being carried, he does not care how far the town is. Comical er, sorry, political alliances are being formed daily with hitherto sworn enemies, do they realize that before you go out with a widow, you must first ask her what killed the husband? Have they not learnt the lesson that nobody holds the cow while another milks it?
They spend their 5 year terms disrespecting the poor citizens but that is ok, I hope that I speak on behalf of the same electorate when I say we have learnt better and they might as be warned that just because you are taller than your father, that does not make you older or wiser than him. Indeed, any river that forgets its source will surely dry up. It is time to realize that we the electorate will no longer swallow poison because we are afraid of spitting and offending others!
So we sang the national anthem the other day and yes, many were skeptical … but they forget that it was the heartfelt prayer of many Kenyans being lifted to the heavens. Parliament needs to know that if you see a man going to his farm in kente cloth, do not jump into conclusion that he is very rich, that probably may be the his only cloth available. Remember the men who have been setting themselves ablaze allover Arab countries … they were not doing so because they were feeling cold neither did they do it because they had some extra paraffin!
Lawmakers must listen to Kenyans! Many are jobless, hungry and angry. A small spark can set this dry grass ablaze. Surely, only a madman goes to bed with his roof on fire …just ask Gadaffi and Mubarak!
I know some of you may wonder why the vitriol but I say they are high on power and it is time for us to say to them what Confucius says to those that smoke pot … man who smoke pot might choke on handle!
Blessings y'all!
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