Its twists and turns, its butterflies and rats- first date it is!

“Right now am just trying to figure out my life, what maze I am in and what will unfold after, and that is Very specific” he said with some sense of finality, somewhat like he was passing a point he felt was not getting home, a point he needed to get home. All through he had been avoiding direct eye contact, and no he wasn't shy it was more in hiding what the eye might reveal, maybe hiding a decision that had been made the moment he set his eyes on her? But this time he looked at her, looked at her direct in the eyes like wondering why on earth was she bubbling with laughter, confidence and ease that signified conquest yet this was not to be and so he emphasized “and that is very specific” emphasis was on the present, “is” carried the weight, weight he hoped was now understood! Her ears betrayed her not, she heard it, she heard the emphasis, played it over and over again in her head, mind and heart all while maintaining that disarming smile, a boisterous laughter but a sunken spirit, was that sentence supposed to pass a point? Was it meant for me? Was it contextual or was it hypothetical, she played it over and over again in her mind, she would play it again and again 2 days later in her mind this time tightly hugging her pillow and dismayed by what was unfolding before her eyes; what happened to civility, she wondered but only WhatsApp’s blue double ticks stared back, he had been online, he had seen and read her chat, a chat which was sent 2 days ago a scenario that was a stark contrast to just 48 hours ago….. “And that is very specific” he had muttered!

It’s pretty full in here, he had said when they found Java packed to the last seat, Savana should be okay now. Had he been looking at her legs, ass, hair or height when she took those naturally calculated steps away from Monrovia Street and through Koinange Street and into Moktar Daddah lane? Was he disappointed, euphoric, judgmental or just easy like Sunday morning? She wondered what was going through his mind.

Her mind was equally a bee house; he was taller than she expected, looked cultured, modern, certain, and something she couldn't place… that something was the deal breaker, if only she could put her hand on it….if only!

At what point did she lose him; were her figures not factual enough? Wasn't she well acquainted with what was going on around her? Did she over-read his palm? If only she knew but alas, she knew not!

Something about his tone, something about the finality in his voice, something about his composure, demeanor and grasp of things around him; something about his eyes that gave mixed emotions, something about his gaze something about his being something about what he chose to say, something about his personality something about his “honesty” something about something was shouting disconnect only it came in a soothing sound, playful sound, creeping sound, disarming sound but a final heart breaking sound, it came so unanticipated but it came nonetheless… and that was very specific!

You ain't coming in, she fumbled with the words, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to break the ice unsure of how to end the day....."mhhhhhh not today", he muttered, it was 2 seconds that played out like eternity, she watched him apply the parking break,shifted the gear stick in a "p" position, placed his right foot onto the break pedal, carefully and yet hurriedly she watched him insert the key into the ignition and just before it was fully seated inside the ignition switch, he muttered, "wwwe wwwill talk" talk almost came as a whisper, it sounded so strained that it almost pained her, her disarming smile stayed put only this time it was donning on her that it might not have been a well spent 4 hrs of her time, had he said this was an evening well spent? talk of reverse psychology, she felt conned...

Somehow he did seem to know what was going through her mind because he turned the key three clicks forward, the engine came to life, he released the parking break and sped off without much of a goodnight...

She remembered Chuck Audette's artistic yet deep words

a heart
black like my coffee
or clouded with cream
or sugary sweet
but not the one of my dreams

this mug is too chipped
or frail
or cracked
styrofoam? !
no thank you, something still lacked

EXTRA GRANDE
with cara-mel de-light
too big for my hand -
something ain't right

scalding hot
and bitter, too
or thinks it's all great
and hasn't a clue

overpriced
underfilled
weak or too strong
no matter the cause
there was still something wrong

I always found grounds
for a need to re-order
and I tried coffee shops
north and south of the border

But it's all been for naught
yet there's no need to grouse
for I've got a thought
I should try the tea house…

Online he remained,WhatsApp's blue double ticks stripped his innocence, her belief in humanity dimmed, what happened to integrity of words! She SPAT!

The suffering, the bath, the dream….

It’s 37,000 feet above sea level, sayeth Captain Mwaniki. We are cruising the stratosphere level but I keep wondering what could happen had we to cruise further to the mesosphere past ozone layer and into the ionosphere…

Am seated next to a Chinese lady, either she is not friendly or she doesn’t think much of me not that I care after all we are aboard Kenya Airways- The pride of Africa J

A lot of things cross my mind though; from my private life, to my dreams, to my role in this world to the ongoing war in Gaza, Lamu and the glaring inequality in the world.

I take any form of human suffering very personal, cuts me so deep, makes me feel helpless and above all motivates me to be able to realize my dreams, be that person        I  have always wanted to be and I know I will be that person, just a matter of time.

……

The water felt so good, took her mind away she even forgot how long she had been soaking in it, maybe an hour, 2 maybe…. Damn could have been 3 hours and counting, she just stood there listening to the sound of the shower, getting to know her body deeply and intimately, ohh this part made the trip worth it, took all her worries away, she always looked forward to the long, warm hot bath it was the climax of her day but deep down her conscience nagged. (Earlier on her way to L. Malawi excursion, she had spotted a young woman fetching water from the river, to say the least the water was not even fit to use for laundry…) As the water caressed her curvaceous chocolate body her mind wondered… Was that lady going to drink that water, probably use it for cooking, how many kilometres had she covered to reach that river? Was she happy? Did she deserve that life? Was she any better than her? Why was her life much easier than hers? Was it luck or education that created the divide….? Had she thanked God that morning for the bearable life she had, for the water she wasting soaking herself yet others covered thousands of kilometres just to obtain that scarce commodity? Why wasn’t life easy for everyone? Why was there too much suffering in the world?

These thoughts brought her back to reality, she stepped out of the bathroom and into her bed wondering why the divide was so pronounced….

…..

“Ladies and gentlemen” she could hear Captain Mwaniki’s voice trailing in the background, they had entered Kenya’s airspace and the plane was preparing for landing, she slowly folded her laptop, paused Christina Aguilera’s pleading “say something” ballad as much as she hoped for something positive to be said to give her hope in humanity, to clear life’s paradox of the haves and have nots… but with the touchdown her trail of thinking faded only her dreams reminded her of a better tomorrow, “someday my dreams will come true, and that day will come soon…”

Is Nairobi your final destination ma’am?....

The scar will always remain

It’s a feeling you can’t quite place, it is confusion, anger, denial, betrayal, loneliness etc. all mixed in one. The feeling is raw and people deal with it differently, it’s feeling you never wish to have, you can’t quite explain how or what you are feeling, it rips your heart apart and with it sometimes your soul and even your humanity. It’s a feeling that with all sincerity you wish to go away but you just don’t know how, it reminds you how alone you are in this world, people can only imagine what you are going through but they can never really know and you have to deal with it a lone only YOU can save yourself!

Maybe it brings out the real you into the fore or maybe the real animal in you, but one things is for sure to a great extent it changes who you are maybe gives you supernatural powers to do things you never knew you were capable of!

It has driven people into asylums, led to great inventions or even great pieces of work-songs, paintings, drawings etc., some it has turned into convicts capable of committing the most heinous of crimes imaginable under the sun whereas others it has turned into great spiritualists and individuals worth emulating but one thing is certain this feeling can drive you to your limits!       

To others they just lock themselves up, never to be opened again, they remain a mystery even to themselves whereas others go to great lengths of making sure they inflict the same pain if not more to other people, they want others to feel and go through exactly what they have been or still going through because what defines their humanity is lost, they have remained only shells  and they don’t know how to deal with that, it eats them up and every time they get the opportunity to make someone else go through the same they feel temporal relief or even some degree of heroism but then again they would want the relief to be permanent, never to fade again and so they have to keep inflicting that pain to other people frequently-they become addicts until they don’t know which hurts the more; their own pain or the  pain they are causing others.       

                                                                      

‘I don’t know who I am anymore’ she said biting her tongue, you could tell it was weighing heavily on her, ‘Past few months I have done things am not particularly proud of’ she continued hoping that by spitting it out she would get some relief but we all knew, something in her had changed at some point, something that made her pull it together, right now, she was just existing, surviving!

                                         Break gold or even diamonds,

                                         Break glasses or even the most expensive things in the world

                                         But never break someone’s heart coz the scar will always remain!

(Read a poem close to this in high school, can’t remember by whom or the exact words but the point is the same)

Heartbreak: A feeling you don’t wanna wish even to your worst enemy

Let the kids be: it’s the least we can give them

Being a kid is so interesting, you know, kids are supposed to be the free spirits, the carefree souls, the worry free beings, their world typically should consist of throwing tantrums, playing, crying, sleeping and if old enough studying- which ought to be a leisure in itself. But am afraid things are slowly changing, for the worse I must add. Majority of kids nowadays, barely into their fifth birthday know the pain of lacking; lacking a good life, lacking a good environment in which to grow, they are already aware of the faults and crimes committed in their society, their innocence is already in question.  Long ago leaning was meant to be fun for kids, not any more- what with tuition at just a kindergarten level? Instead of kids thinking about their favorite games, they are thinking about books, about what to eat should they go back home, they are thinking about the disharmony they witness their parents go through, they have to worry about the ills of their society- what happened to being kids? Why can’t we just let them be? 

Play forms a very integral part of a child’s development: 

A child who has been allowed to develop play resources receives many enduring advantages. First, she develops a universal learning skill. Second, play maximizes her potential by developing her creativity and imagination. Third, her relationships with the world and others are based on loving-kindness. Fourth, play promotes joy, which is essential for self-esteem and health. Fifth, her learning process is self-sustained based as it is on her own natural love of learning and playful engagement with life. Sixth, play creates a basic trust in the world.   (Source: http://www.originalplay.com/develop.htm)

 

But prey I ask, how can a child play when she/he barely have a place to sleep? When he/she doesn’t have food in her precious lil tummy? When she\he hardly knows what it means to be happy?

Just for the record, it wouldn’t bother me as much if a kid walked with tattered clothes, or bare feet, no it wouldn’t, but it rips my heart a part when at just such a tender age they already know the pain of hunger, the pain of being unwanted, the pain of having to struggle, to hustle in order to get something to eat. 

There is this particular kid who reminds me every day how cruel the society has become, how his innocence have been taken away from him and forced to grow up well ahead of his age, every day on my way to work, I see this kid- I guess he hasn’t celebrated his 5^th birthday just yet, or utmost he is 5.  Almost 9 into the night (everyday), he is always busy cleaning up the place his mum and him were selling the groceries, he does that so diligently that he makes me feel guilty of untidying my environment, but I wonder what time he gets to sleep, what time he plays, what time he eats and if he ever have a sound sleep? I wonder!  At such a tender age, he knows the pain of hustling, the value of money , he has been forced to grow up, to fend for himself….how can such a kid have  unshakable self-esteem when he grows up? How can he ever trust the world? How can he develop his/her creativity and imagination when he barely have time to engage the world and fellow kids on the playground?

30^th of September was another dark moment in Kenya’s history, a grenade was hurled at innocent children attending a church service by the Alshabab militia groups, one boy who had just celebrated his 9^th birthday lost his precious life, in Tana Delta, kids were among the targeted group, quite a number lost their lives………and I ask, with lots of pain in my heart, since when did it become so easy to kill a child? Why would anyone, however hardcore you are, target an innocent child? What satisfaction do you get from harming a kid who barely understands your motive?  Why would you want to get sexual satisfaction from a months' old baby? How twisted is your brain? Why would you want to molest an innocent child? 

We are failing as a society and as humanity if we can’t shield them from the cruelty that exists in the world, children are the true reflection of the society, you bring up a rogue child, you create unsecure society, you bring up a morally upright kid, you eliminate the ‘ campus divas for rich men’ .

                                             Play your part; it’s your call as well.