Love, let's have a heart to heart this Boxing Day

It’s Boxing Day again, I am told this is the day to open the boxes of gifts received on Christmas day, but today my love I want to open my heart to you, this heart which is full of so much love to give if only you knew how to trigger it.

It’s been five wonderful years together , with 2 beautiful gals- a constant reminder of God’s grace, mercy and love, we have had our dark and bright moments, we have had days and weeks when we totally want out and those moments when seeing each other is the only remedy. With you I have learnt the power of perseverance and patience, your love has seen me surmount major challenges that I never thought I would manage.

These girls that we have had together, these girls have been my savior, they were sent to rescue me- rescue me from myself. You see my dear love, I know those moments when I become completely unbecoming, stubborn and completely irrational and I thank you for sticking by me during those moments but sometimes I also feel if only you paid just slight attention to the underlying causes to these irrational behavior, then maybe you would know how to handle me better and this empire of ours would be nothing but the envy of many.

This my dear beloved, valued and treasured love is how I would appreciate being loved:

They say and I am inclined to believe that unlike men who needs to feel admired but not as much as they need to feel loved, this species of ours we are slightly different, as much as we need to feel loved, admiration takes precedence this I feel you rarely do or show it, compliments here and there will go a long way in achieving this.

To us words have power, real power- power to make or break and I have a feeling you are being too economical with words, I want to fall deeper and deeper in love with you, once in a while tell me how you feel and most importantly tell me how I make you feel and mean it, this alone is enough to reenergize me to work harder in this empire of ours. You remember that day I made you mokimo and you said I make you happy, that you loved my cooking, every time I remember that day, all I want to do is perfect my mokimo making skills so that I keep you happy but you stopped and so I no longer know how exactly you feel about me, I want to know both the days that I make you feel real bad instead of bottling them up since this will equally help me make adjustments.

I know your work schedule is crazy but once in a while create time for us, just me and you, let’s do some outdoor activity say chase grasshoppers, marvel at the rainbow, watch wild animals just something out of routine, this will refuel both of us and make us bond much better and allow us to know each other deeply.

Surprises works magic, try it, some unexpected naughty text, a thoughtful gift , this makes me feel that besides your schedule I was actually crossing your mind, makes me feel more wanted, more valued and more appreciated. You remember that petal flower that you plucked for me on your way from work and that day in the kitchen when you blindfolded my eyes, removed PK from your pocket and gave it to me? That day I was on top of the world, that feeling was heavenly and I would want to feel that way more often.

Could it be that my after birth body makes me attractive no more that you find it somewhat embarrassing to walk with me and introduce me to your friends and colleagues? When Farooq had his first baby, I remember you tagging me alone with you to go and see the baby together but above all I remember how you introduced me to him, I remember the look in your eyes, you said I was the bearer of your lost rib, that a rare gem I was, I also remember you tagging me along to go and watch Ruben and Ezekiel play scrabble but you no longer take me to meet your friends, you no longer introduce me people, you let them find out for themselves, what changed dear?

There is nothing I would want to do more than to make you happy, you do know how passionate I can get, let me love you but help me do it better because when I am the only one who calls you the lovey dovey names, when am the only one saying how I feel then it makes me think that this empire of ours is one sided.

I understand the sacrifices you’ve made so far, the gradual changes that were initially out of your character, and above all feel very valued and appreciated.

Happy festive season dear!

To the real heroes of our time- Parents

“Son please jump, I swear I will catch you” The father pleaded with the son for the umpteenth time, the fire was now fiercely raging, only the balcony where the son stood had not been completely engulfed. The fire had broken out in the wee hours of the night, the son was not in his room when it occurred, as it turned out, he went playing his favorite game up in the ceiling so as not to be found, unknown to his parents that he was up there, they hurriedly rushed downstairs thinking he was too scared of the inferno and so had come down.

“Dad, I am too scared, I can’t jump, just come for me” The kid, who came out of his hiding place when the fire was already too advanced and therefore unable to join his parents downstairs pleaded with the Dad.

“OK son, he replied, hang in there I will come for you”, the father rushed inside the house that was now falling into pieces, he endured the burns and reached the son just in time to rescue him. “There, go now….go take care of your mummy” he lovingly told the son as he dropped him down, he was not so lucky himself- he succumbed to the burns just after the selfless gesture.

“Daddy please come back” the son would plead later on realizing that the father was motionless and in flames. “I swear I will come back and jump this time round, just come back” but the father was no more, he risked his life to save his sons’……he died a hero.

In line with today’s holiday theme, I want to remember the heroes of our time, the living heroes, the co-creators with God- the PARENTS.

I love sitting at a particular spot whenever I go to church, it’s strategic because it’s not only the last row after the choirs’ seats but it gives a perfect view of the alter and a full view of the Eucharist during consecration, I love the view, I love the feeling that comes with it but there is a man, of all the times I have been sitting there, he is always a round, just a seat in front of me with these two lovely kids about 5 and 3; a son and a daughter, seeing them together gives you this warm feeling, their bond is great, enviable, uplifting and above all inspiring. The kids never want to go and sit with their mum- I don’t know why- but they always insist to sit with their dad. From their interaction you can see that he means the world to his kids- THE WORLD. The way they touch him, the way they fight for his attention, to be carried by him, the way he looks at them ohh, makes you wanna be a parent- this man is a hero in the eyes of his kids and in my eyes too- real hero.

Once my sister called me to go and watch over her kids, the hubby and herself were to travel upcountry, one of the kids was 3 years old sweet lil gal, I never knew that kids had a sense of time until then. I think she kinda mastered when her parents would come home, when it hit 6 pm, she went and sat by the window, you could see the longing in her eyes, her deep longing to see her parents, she was expecting them back any minute and she wouldn’t let me carry her, she painfully kept suckling her lil middle and index fingers with her eyes and ears completely tuned to the gate, those were her only consolation until she fell asleep. But a disturbing thought occurred to me that day, what if they never came back, would I be able to withstand her pain? In this lil gals’ eyes, her heroes were out there somewhere, she knew that, she felt that- her parents were her heroes.

Martina McBride captures this heavenly feeling when she sings in her “In my daughter’s eyes”:

In my daughters’ eyes,

I am a hero,

I am strong and wise,
And I know no fear……..

…she continues…

And when she wraps her hand

Around my finger,

How it puts a smile in my heart,

Everything becomes a little clearer,

I realize what life is all about,

It’s hanging on when your heart has

Had enough,

It’s giving more when you feel like

Giving up,

I’ve seen the light,

It’s in my daughter’s eyes…….

I am inclined to believe that there is this -for lack of better word -I will call it transfiguration when one becomes a parent, I say this because of the changes I have seen with my pals who have crossed this line, those who are very blessed to be given this respectable title- Parent. There is something immeasurable, unquantifiable, unfathomable feeling that comes with being a parent, I think it’s something to do with the knowledge that someone fully depends on you, that your being impacts fully on someone else’s’ existence and the fact that someone believes, trusts and loves you unreservedly- I don’t know but I think so. And so in some of my chit chats with my pals, whenever someone says I think I am ready to be a parent, I give them a casual but loaded reply that go for it if you are ready to be blown away by the tremendous  parenthood feeling because I tend to equally think that if you are not ready to handle the feeling, then you might find it to be too much, and therefore if you are ready to be a hero- knowing full well the repercussions, consequences, responsibilities and expectations of becoming a hero, then my dearest, all the best!

There is this image that caught my attention sometime back during the Tana clashes, it was an image of a lil gal wiping her mamma’s tears, ohh what a feeling it brought- those lil fingers, there is a way they reassure completely and I think that’s why this Vaseline advert with a lil gal being told a story by her mamma, the way she touches her mamma’s nose, the way she moves her lil fingers across, hmmm…..that advert will always be the best in my world.

So to all the parents outside there, you are the real heroes of our times.

                                 Happy MASHUJAS’ DAY.

May God greatly guide you in this tremendous and respectable journey

If tomorrow never comes

You see his lifestyle had been bothering him for a while now not that he was complaining but he thought a change would serve him just fine. A number of guys labeled him a loner much of an introvert kind of a person, as much as there was some degree of truth in the loner tag, he damn well knew that he was many a thing but not an introvert. Switching between personalities was something he did with great ease; he could be the perfect companion if he wanted to, the forlorn fellow whom not many wanted to associate with, this humorous being who left people in stitches, a very indoor person………and the list was endless.

Lately he had been taking stock about his life; thinking, reflecting and contemplating. It occurred to him that he had actually not been in any serious relationship worth mentioning, a few hits here and there and lasting no more than 3 months even with the casuals. He was well past his three zero age and not even a kid out of wedlock, not even a potential baby mama in his life.

Being an architect that he was, a good one at that, he always argued that his sketches came out perfect with no disturbance around, meditation songs became his new love, a few X-rated DVDs here and there to take a brother to the ahh…..ohh.....yeah world kept him going and before he realized it days had turned to months, and months to years with nothing and no one to call his own, no girl in his life that he could share anything with, no heart to heart friends only ‘em chedder in the account that now were becoming less useful……. He had siblings but they were not so tight either, he attributed all this to his current lifestyle which was mostly being indoors and thus the need to change it to reconnect again with the world.

A change of wardrobe would be the start and a tour to the mall would just be the perfect place to sample varieties before having his favorite cup of cappuccino later on at the Java joint. 

  

“That blue shirt really does look nice on you “the lady attendant commented after he had tried a few outfits….. Even before he could reply he noticed a lot of commotion and strange noises,…….were those gun shots? He couldn't tell but a feeling of something awfully wrong filled the air….

“Ohh no, you are bleeding” he told the lady attendant and that’s when it hit him, something dreadful was happening; piercing screams could be heard all over, women were wailing, gunshots reigned the air, blood flowed freely and lifeless bodies just lay there…..God, what the %*#$ is happening…….??

He could hear voices, voices devoid of compassion, humanity had been stripped off them, no this is not a typical robbery, he thought to himself, it’s something deeper, something more dreadful, and something that took away his bravery. He dragged the bleeding lady to the fitting room, the blue shirt still on his hand. “Ohh no, jeez you are losing a lot of blood, the lady was slowly slipping to unconsciousness, he took his blue shirt and tied it across the lady’s chest in the hope that it will stop blood from gushing forth. The bullet had gone straight to her rib cage, she could barely breath, only whistling sound came out, it was obvious she wasn't going to make it out alive…….”this is not the way I had envisaged changing my lifestyle, if only I had stayed indoors”! But alas!

His heart pounding against his chest and too scared to leave the fitting room, the lifeless body lying against his chest;  he reached for his phone, went through his contacts but couldn't find even a single soul to text his ordeal. The current lifestyle had left him with no close friend other than the roadside acquaintances that he didn’t engage past the first hello, his siblings were not in the city either, anyway texting any of them that his life was in danger was the last thing he wanted to do, then it sadly struck him that should the bullet blow away his brains out any moment now, no one was going to notice that he was missing, not his workmates – he was on his annual leave, not his neighbors-he barely knew them  and he couldn't remember ever talking to any of them. Loneliness seemed to pierce him more than the melee that existed around him, the thought that no one would be concerned enough to notice his disappearance made the fear of death so real, the thought of his body lying in that fitting room; lifeless with no one laying claim to it almost drove him mad.

 Ohh God, Please I do not want to die, not today, not now and certainly not a loner, please help me through this, give me just one more chance, I swear just one more chance to make it right with myself, with my family and with my friends, just one more chance to make it right with you before I flip over to the next world…….

Sound of heavy boots cut his train of thoughts short, he peeped through the dangling curtain only to notice a heavily armed man, he couldn’t see his eyes but his physique was manly, he stepped forward to towards the fitting room, guns’ nozzle pointed towards him, “what’s the name of Prophet Mohammed’s mother”? The voice retorted. He had no idea what the dude was asking…………..only darkness followed afterwards……only darkness…..and more darkness………..

.

.

.

.

..

.

……”No”, the nurse replied, we are yet to identify him. “No one has paid him a visit so far”………..

                                                              Then he went into a comatose 

This is for the King, this is for our own Negro, and this is for him whose sun has set- RIP KUNTA.

 A Crack On The Ground (by Peter Gumbo)

The last time I saw him breath he was asleep,
But the last time I saw him sleep,
I could not help but weep,
My tears trickled down and formed a sorrowful heap,

Lying there cold,
His face just seemed hollow,
Even though the faces around him,
Were drowning in sorrow,
Gone? To them it did not seem.

Gone in an instant like thunder,
Clear yet unexpected,
Leaving us all torn asunder,
And feeling rejected.

The cruel hand that fate lends in misery,
To me will forever be a mystery,
Who would have ever thought that he would be gone elsewhere,
And that I would be staring at an empty horizon.

Kunta, Why did you have to go?

……………………………………………………………………………………

Ngong everything iz either long or wrong, that is precisely how the king always put it when gulping down the landlord’s drink………..

The king is gone, the subjects are now just wondering wanderers at his majesty’s royal, the house in the hillz is warm no more, negro, you just don’t vanish, go mid airz;  we still seek ‘em last gud byez, u don ‘jus up and leave! What happened to courtesy? And how about the promised empresses’ triumphant entry at the majesty’s parlor?

Did the hillz dim his highness’ star prematurely? Dem hillz I understand lack in every sense any form of mercy even to a man of his majesty’s stature, did some tingz up in da hill get you losing your way?

Kunta, you were weird you know, crazy and insane to be precise, but your insanity made laughter rain lyk ‘em  Lil Wayne’ chedder, meen we will miss you negro. You made puffing ‘em Jeffery look like a hobby, you made the crew jealous coz you were always up there, you were an adventure in itself, you were a mystery to be explored, a research to be conducted and a myth to be accepted. But you are gone to soon; to soon before this being could be unwrapped, please let your spirit tell us what happened up there, up in the king’s royal in his majesty’s abode, up in the house in the hillz?

Tell ‘em angels how you rocked down here tell them how it felt to be up in the air, tell them to watch over the orphaned subjects you left behind. Kunta, your memory will stay with us until we meet again to rock with ‘em angels.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

This poem reminds me of his highness…….

THE INTIMATE KISS (by Peter Gumbo) 

A single piercing lick, 
From the lip of vengeance, 
Just did the trick, 
He went down sick without even a single peek, 
Drowning in the pool of her painful pleasure, 
He struggled for even a single gesture, 
But with each fading second, 
He seemed to loose his most valuable treasure, 

He tried hard to gasp, 
His hand maintaining on his valuable a strong grasp, 
Though it was already balancing on a cliff, 
For out of reach was his relief, 
An imbalance of emotion, 
She never knew went with no notion, 
It was just a slippery lotion, 
And now she begged for more of him even if just a portion, 

It was a clot, 
Less visible than even a dot, 
Unbelievable to the eye it was for it went with no voice, 
An act committed out of choice, 
All round the floor sipped, 
His most valuable redness, 
As the heavens embraced his increasing deadness, 
Into the hole of perpetual silence his spirit dipped, 

If not for me then to no one else will you belong, 
Was her painful song, 
As she committed the most dreadful wrong, 
To her it was her last intimate kiss, 
But to him it was the most painful kiss, 
On the neck, 
Is where she placed the peck, 
Silently she whispered, 
If not for me the to no one else will you belong, 

REST IN PEACE KING ALFRED GIKONYO a.k.a KUNTA

Circle of Pain- Just who is to break it?

She knows it kills him inside, the knowledge that the love that he so much yearns for can never be reciprocated, but can we really blame her, when she is a walking corps herself? The doc advised her against too much thinking coz her ulcers levels had sky rocketed and were harmful to her health, but how can she not think of him when all she needs, all she yearns for, all she longs for every waking day of her life is his love which she cannot get because he is equally dying to be loved by someone else?

The fact that he could sing made her fall deep in love with him, made her almost crazy, she had a thing for songs and deep respect almost an awe for musicians, she had always wondered how they transform words to convey various human feelings into beats and rhythms that was flawless, she could spot a great voice from a far and listening to music was her chill factor. “Maybe we could be singing right now, maybe we could be humming our favorite rumba rhythms together”, she thought to herself.  “ How would singing with him feel like, am sure I would be singing like a frog and gently with love and affection he would be guiding me back to the right key, maybe we could be running around, throwing pillows at each other and devouring each moment, never wanting to be ever apart, maybe we could be coding a game changer software, the next big thing, who knows, hmmmmmm, or maybe we could be swimming right now, am sure I would be falling like a stone deep under the pool, and am sure as hell that he wouldn't let me drown, he would dive to save me and we would all smile, laugh and joke about it, who knows, we could even be tendering to our shamba right now, taking care of our small orchard , maybe we could………..at this point she trailed off, tears welled up her eyes and she realized she was wishing for an impossibility, he was gone, he was never  and has never been hers, he has never been free……he is too haunted by his own demons to love her, she culled herself to her pillow and cried her sorrows away.

“ Pa- she would one day open up to one of her best friends , mentor and former lecturer – I am a walking corpse” That statement took him a back, what is it doty? He asked with concern and pain that almost drove her to tears. It’s this man, this man that I can’t seem to forget, she paused for the point to sink in- I can’t leave him behind, I am stuck in time.  “It’s okay, he said. You are an intelligent, smart, independent and above all my star, am sure he never loved you, otherwise he wouldn't let you go, he wasn't good for you  and am sure God will help you to get someone who will cherish you and see you as I do, someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved, someone who will see the gold in you, if he let you go, then that moron was never good enough for you because my angel, you deserve better”.

As consoling as he was, her mind kept betraying her, going back to that Friday-that Friday when she sealed her own fate, that Friday that nothing whatsoever has ever been able to erase. That Friday when she let it go, that Friday has been her solace and sorrow, her strength and weakness, she would do anything, absolutely anything to re-live that day, ANYTHING! That day gives her the strength to face another day, hope that if she could experience such feelings here on earth then heaven does indeed exist on earth, that feeling was a feeling to treasure but that very feeling has been her everyday nightmare, the fact that she cannot re-live it again, the fact that it’s gone has been her daily hell and a constant reminder that hell too, indeed does exist on planet earth.

He looked at that man who sat by her side, that man who had been so patient with her, hoping that she would come around and love him, that man who like him needed her love only that her love was imprisoned, imprisoned by the memories of this other man, and therefore she had no more love to give. She looked at him, knowing too well what she was about to tell him and with only too well of an understanding how he would feel, she gathered her courage and told him that she was a walking corpse, that she had no love to give, that she had tried to break loose-loose from the past-but that her past and present lines were so blurred she no longer knew which world she lived.

And she let him go………and the one her heart ached for will never come back to her, she knew that as well and so it was all a circle of pain, but who will break it? Time will tell, SOMEDAY......

Democracy on trial or triumph of Democracy? - Let Supreme Court tell Kenyans

It was now just a few more days to elections, historic elections to be precise as this was the first of elections to be conducted under the new constitutional dispensation unlike the other elections that Kenya had carried out this was distinctly different as electorates were going to choose other than the traditional president, member of parliament and ward representatives we were as well tasked  with choosing county senators, governors and women representatives ( a position that I am still opposed to as I don’t understand why we should have an exclusive women post in this era when we claim for equality and equity)

Things were pretty tense, this was an election that pollsters had termed too close to call but what heightened the mood so much was that this was not just an ordinary election with ordinary competitors, it was an election that pitied the country’s founding father’s son to that of the country’s first prime ministers’ son (first president Mzee Jomo Kenyatta and Moluor Jaramogi Oginga Odinga sons were battling it out to become the country’s’ next CEO)

Kenya is a conglomeration of 42 tribes but politically dominated by Luos and Kikuyus, political animosity between these two tribes dates back to the pre independent days when Jaramogi had an opportunity of a lifetime to be the country’s’ first president only to relinquish it to Mzee jomo Kenyatta who was then in custody, Kenyatta reciprocated the generous gesture by undermining Mr. Odinga and making sure that his community  (Luos) were politically and economically marginalized,  this political enmity is so deep rooted and its full manifestation came to a public glare during this electioneering period as their sons were battling it out for the country’s top leadership.

This was equally an election that had international community have a laser focus on its developments. After the bungled 2007 elections that saw Kenya sink to its lowest moments, ICC was to later charge Mr. Kenyatta alongside other 3 Kenyans with crimes against humanity.  It was therefore termed an election of high stakes and with far reaching consequences as it was regarded as Mr. Odinga’s last shot at presidency and Mr. Kenyattas political and survival lifeline.

Kenyans were a worried lot especially after the harrowing 2007/08 experience, even though a great chunk of airtime was dedicated to calling for peace the fear of unknown barred Kenyans from trusting their neighbors especially if your political affiliations were parallel.

Days were moving fast and political temperatures were souring, like any other ‘healthy’ relationship we had one of our major fights during this period, partly because we couldn’t agree on some trivial issues, the political temperatures also did play a role in this. You see I was one of Odinga’s die hard supporters, I was corded to the core (Cord- a term that Mr. Odinga’s team came up with when they joined ranks with Kalonzo Musyoka and  other parties  to steer the country’s agenda forward, theirs was based on reforms, unity and democracy whereas Mr. Kenyatta’s was Jubilee – a coalition that also brought together his co accused Mr. Ruto and other parties, theirs was mainly seen as  a referendum against ICC, pegged on youthfulness ,digital era, they had lofty promises among them providing a solar powered laptop to every primary school child), my partner on the other hand was neither corded nor jubilant and so when he invited me to join him in his elections observations work I politely declined as I wanted to watch Jakom- as we fondly called Jaramogi’s son- take this thing clean and square without any disruptions whatsoever.

The D-day approached first and our voter turnout was only rivaled by Ghana’s at 85%. I have never seen Kenyans so optimistic and so fearful, the stakes were high, battle lines had been drawn and everything was ready to take on this historic moment. 

Prior to elections, Cord team had hinted at some mechanisms that were being put in place to aid Jubilee team manipulate the election results, a claim that was swiftly denied by the Jubilee and named government individuals- rigging was one of the main factors that resulted to bloodshed during 07/08 fiasco. IEBC (taking over from ECK) was set up to restore public’s trust in the electoral body, Judiciary gave the public their word that they would be impartial when determining electoral petitions should they come before them, media also was not left behind in rallying on the peace platform and ensuring that Kenyans remained peaceful during and after the elections.

‘Mum, I know this is hard for you but it seems like your man is losing’, my partner would tell me after IEBC started releasing presidential results that saw Kenyatta take an early lead, there is no way Mr. Kenyatta can beat Mr. Odinga, things are still premature to draw conclusions based on this provisional results, I argued but he knew more, more than I wanted to be told more than I was prepared to hear. Being at the thick of it at Bomas for days and nights he was definitely privy to a lot more of info than what the media would let out of the bag, from his tone I knew things were far from okay.

IEBC would later announce Mr. Kenyatta as president-elect, Mr. Odinga would later term the whole exercise as ‘Democracy on Trial’ whereas Mr. Kenyatta in his acceptance speech  would equally term it as  ‘Triumph of Democracy ‘.

• Was democracy on trial?
• Was it a triumph of democracy?
• Did IEBC fail Kenyans?
• Will Judiciary deliver justice?
• Was media biased?

These are questions whose answers now lie in the hands of supreme court that is mandated with determining the petition lodged by cord challenging the outcome of election results as Mr. Odinga claims that his was victory snatched.

As a great mind would put it:

“CORDS  case is NOT really against JUBILEE.....Neither is it against UHURU.......Its focus is IEBC...JUBILEES victory notwithstanding.......CORD is saying IEBC you were inefficient.

JUBILEE you may have the votes, but IEBC there were irregularities that could have swung the pattern of the election... CORDS case is not targeting UKs legitimacy as president in a fair contest... 

It’s against IEBC lack of reasonable doubt in declaring UK a winner. It’s Not RAO and UK butting heads... It's NOT I HOPE about LUOS and KIKUYUS at leadership TUG of war.... 

It's about solidifying a system that we can never and should never doubt, when it takes over the great government machinery..

It’s a test, of elections that are free of suspicion, a test of our judiciary, in that it can be impartial and solid.....

CORD HAS PURPOSEFULLY put together some of the best legal minds (if not the best) we have in this country..... both the lawyers and the judges... So that the judicial system can prove itself... We say we can try the the ICC CASES LOCALLY? Let’s try this... if IEBC was wrong then the elections should be repeated by any means....

If the elections were beyond reproach then UK should be sworn in, but..... Let it be beyond reasonable doubt. 

Voters always lose if the elections are bad; candidates lose in free and fair elections”

Can’t wait to hear the arguments in the court case