My little one, you are here at last, Africa is blessed to have you.

A month or so before you were conceived, my womb kept calling, I could cross a busy road just to go and carry a baby on the other side, I knew I was somewhat ready for you.

We talked about you, preconception, but for irreconcilable reasons, your father and I had to go our separate ways.

Then a month came and passed, listened to my body for the usual “that time of the month” cues, I wasn’t sure my body was telling me anything, so off to the chemist I went  - the lines came back 2.

My brain has a weird way of processing news, both good and bad, the magnitude of the news normally hits me much later, way later…and so, did the news of your arrival.

It was on a Saturday.

Those who know me will tell you that you changed me for the better; I became happier, still am. Bad news never seem to get to me, not anymore, I became more tolerant to divergent views and opinions even to actions that would initially get me all worked up, became patient and hopeful, you brought positive energy into my life.

You were a calm one, from the word go, no mood swings, no cravings, just a bigger belly and a happy soul.

You make me happy.

On October 22^nd at 10:47 am, you kicked, on a Saturday - it was your first.

That feeling remained with me for days, I looked forward to more of your kicks.

 We talked a lot; you became my constant companion, we started mulling over how our future would pan out, I started making plans on how our weekends will be our bonding sessions, the way we would go to Arboretum and soak in the peace that nature brings, how we will go to church and adore Jesus with you in the chapel, how we will visit relatives together, how I will introduce you to the world of computer programming, how I will ask you questions; not to get an answer but to pick your mind how you approach questions, to understand the logic behind your answers, how we will farm together , how we will find satisfaction and comfort in each other.

On March 7^th at 5 am, you came; your cries filled the theater, they showed me your balls before I saw your face, the heir apparent, the one who would perpetuate the Minto Dynasty , I knew I loved you already, I had carried you in my heart and womb for 39 weeks 2 days, I was ready to carry you in my arms and heart.

Watching you is my new hobby. Until I met you, I did not know love this intense existed, am intoxicated and obsessed with you, dangerously in love with you, you are my world.

Sleeping next to me so tiny, I already see a man developing a mind of his own; very active, very loving, rejects not anyone, allows every visitor to carry him.

Listening to your baby talks- your abujubuju buju :-)- fills me with so much joy, you fill my heart with so much love, hope and positivity.

Sometimes, I wonder what crosses your mind, I wonder what wags your soul.

When our eyes lock, I see heaven, sometimes when you look at me, direct and tender the way you lovingly do, I feel as though you can read my thoughts, my mind and heart. When you trace my facial features as you frequently do, I want your small fingers to never leave my face, when you go into your corner and switch yourself off to the noise of the world, sometimes you look sad and in that moment, my heart breaks.

When you kick your tiny legs to the recognition of my voice, when the touch of my hand calms you down, when you hold me as though your life depends on it, you enrich my life in ways I never knew was possible.

Because of you, I have met some of the most incredible people

Because of you, I have experienced love from total strangers

Because of you, I have become more considerate and understanding to people I meet

Because of you, my life is full of possibilities

Because of you, my life is rich and full of hope

Because of you, my dreams scare me

Because of you, I have learnt to reach out to others when I feel like am drowning and be there for others who are hurting

Because of you, my life has a purpose

Because of you, I let Go and let God.

Thank you.

“He will be one great man”, my uncle quipped when I told him I have named you after him, the love in his voice moved me to tears, and great you will be, because I believe him.

Our journey has just began my dear one, a lot still lays ahead, through it all, we will soldier on and keep each other grounded.

Welcome to the world once again, be a man of character, of principle, of integrity and open your heart to love.

May the world be kind to you, may your life be rich.

                                           <3

Fare thee well dear one – I seek atonement for my betrayal

“You may not recognize her”, my brother had warned. I heard his voice break, his eyes looked unfocused, his gauze was hollow; he had a special connection with mum.

Stronger, I thought I was until I set foot in that hospital, until I set foot in that ward, then I knew what illness can do to the body, then I knew that health is wealth.

I saw a child-like body, I wondered what the “child” was suffering from, she looked small, so small and frail, so small even for a child until I moved closer and it hit me, she was not a child; on that bed my mum laid, the child-like figure was my mum. Our eyes locked, and my tears flowed like an opened tap. I moaned my mum before she passed on and I shed no tears when she eventually passed on.

“It’s me”, she said, “moan me not, for I am still alive” and her words opened more taps from my tear gland, I left the room, I couldn’t stand to see her like that, I couldn’t stand to look at her without being a wreck, I wasn’t strong enough to be brave for her and tell her it shall be well, I wasn’t strong enough to promise her tomorrow, I didn’t see a tomorrow to promise her. I wanted her to go home, go and rest, go and rest with them Angels – she would do exactly that in a few days, she gave up the fight. Angels are keeping her peaceful, that I fully believe.

Because, she was a fellow Angel who walked the earth.

I have never visited anyone else in a critical condition again since then, because I am never too sure how I would react.

But Immaculate was different, Immaculate I wanted to go see, Immaculate was another angel I wanted to go comfort when in an hospital bed, but Immaculate left too soon, my procrastination took the better of me, and tomorrow never came, until it was too late.

I betrayed you girl, I betrayed our friendship, I betrayed your love for me, I betrayed you as a colleague, I betrayed you as your manager, I betrayed you as a friend, I betrayed you as a confidante, I betrayed you as a human being, I betrayed you deeply, so deeply I do not have a moral ground to even say your name, to even talk about you, to even moan you.

I betrayed you dear one.

Many a time you showed me how one can be happy amidst challenges, many a time, you comforted me when I felt the work pressure would have the better of me, many a time you showed me what it means to care.

Your smile radiated everywhere you went, your easy going personality earned you more friends than I can count, many of us of ”two left feet” wished we could shake it like you did.

You were a ray of hope, you lit everywhere you went.

Then cancer came calling, it didn’t care that you had not even celebrated your quarter century of existence, it dimmed your radiance, it made you pale, it extinguished your light.

And through it all, Minto came not to comfort you, to hold your hand, to tell you to hang on, no she didn’t and for that swiry, she has no one else to blame but herself.

Your demise has brought to the fore my weakest points as a friend, it has reminded me once again of my mortality and that tomorrow is not always promised.

“If I should die – Thomas Gray

If I should die and leave you
Be not like the others, quick undone
Who keep long vigils by the silent
dust and weep.

For my sake turn to life and smile

 Nerving thy heart and trembling

hand to comfort weaker souls than thee.
Complete these unfinished tasks of mine
And I perchance may therein comfort thee”

Your death will not go to waste without lighting another ray of humanity in me, for the sake of your demise and to seek your atonement for the wrongs I did during this period when you needed me the most, I will try to the best of my capability to extend a helping hand to weaker souls in need, to be a ray of hope to souls in need, these swiry, I will do to complete your unfinished task to humanity.

To all the cancer fighters…

I dedicate "Am gonna love you through it, by Martina Mc’bride”

Pain

It was a touch that saved, it was a hug that healed, Brielle a young, sweet beautiful woman whom doctors had given a dim hope for survival was saved by her sister Kyrie’s hug, known in the blogosphere as ‘rescuing hug’ some 19 yrs ago. The power of touch.

It’s physical but impact emotional and sometimes, most of the times what we need is actually the reassuring touch, that touch that communicates volumes, that touch that heals, that touch that gives hope and gives you energy to continue fighting, that touch that keeps your demons at bay. That touch that cures the pain. The power of touch.

Pain has a way of bringing out the best and the worst in us, pain brings out the ‘baby’ in us, makes one vulnerable, helpless and sometimes hopeless. Pain can harden as well as humble, makes you appreciate the absence of it and helps in shaping your thinking, pain is the catalyst for change because with great pain, comes great change. If you are not ready to change, then you are not in enough pain. Pain moulds!

Pain will always be there, some damning so damning that you wonder whether you will ever pull through but the most painful of all is the emotional pain because it touches your very being, your very soul, your very integrity. The pain of the heart goes deeper, it exposes your vulnerability, leaves you naked. Sometimes you want the whole world to see you for who you are- a hurting soul in need of rescuing, but there is so much pain in the world that only a few genuinely stop by to offer the rescuing touch, majority are curious and social media has made it worse. Who then I ask will rescue the introverts!

Today I want to speak to the broken heart reading this.

As humans, we’re wired to experience incredible love and affection. But for every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction, and when it comes to the ecstasy of true love, that reaction is a gut-wrenching pain, a deep void of sadness, utter lethargy, and feelings of seemingly eternal loneliness. It even gets more confusing when you second guess yourself based on the truth that the emotion that breaks your heart is sometimes the very one that can heal it.

After all has been said and done, through the pain and through the hurt, through the storm and the rain, plant your feet, square your shoulders...and just STAND...

And to paraphrase the words of Gary Zukav, there comes a time when the pain of continuing exceeds the pain of stopping. At that moment, a threshold is crossed. What seemed unthinkable becomes thinkable. Slowly, the realization emerges that the choice to continue what you have been doing is the choice to live in discomfort, and the choice to stop what you have been doing is the choice to breathe deeply and freely again. Once that realization has emerged, you can either honor it or ignore it, but you cannot forget it. What has become known cannot become unknown again.

My dear, let your pain mould you, shape you, ground you. Use this experience to build a character, to build a humane human being, to give you a holistic view of your universe. Learn from your pain.

A reply to an (ex) friend: Do not be the Judge and the Jury!

He was spitting fireworks, somewhere behind his keyboard/keypad, ohh, he was deeply outraged, he couldn't bottle it any longer, these anti-Christs had to be put in their rightful places, the name of King Jesus had to be fiercely guarded even if it meant stumbling on others feelings to achieve that, I wonder what his Christ’s reaction would have been to that, thinking of it longer the way I have, may be Gandhi could have quipped “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ” Doesn't your Christ say in Mathews 7:1 Judge not, that you be not judged? Ohh yee people of little grasp, have you forgotten Your Jesus’ teaching of not removing your brothers’ speck when a log covers yours? Or have you forgotten that the same measure of ferocity, of condemnation will be spelled out against you? I imagined Gandhi continuing then walking away in his loose Khadi, his stick leading the way wondering…

UNFOLLOW/BLOCK ME NOW BEFORE THINGS GET UGLY FOR YOU! Why wait to unfriend/block me when I explain why Islam and Roman Catholism (sic) are demonic schemes to kill Christianity? He had warned on his facebook post in his misdirected authoritative demeanor, his armor of combat was on, his Jesus had to be protected, and freedom of expression had to be taken to the next level. I have no problem with whichever idols, virgins, saints and the gods Romans and their worldwide sympathizers - a word he uses so frequently, could it be that its meaning alludes him? - decide to worship as long as they do not drag Jesus into their religion! He had jibed when one of his ‘followers’ sarcastically told him that Catholics will tear him apart for mentioning the virgin of Guadalupe… ohh he was in his element, his hands were itching to type more, tell them off only the fire wasn't stroked hard enough and like a dog not provoked, he was unable to attack, only weak barks could be heard until nothing more but a pity growl, ohh, how disappointed he must have been!

I immensely respect and I mean RESPECT other people’s religions/denominations and religious views even if they were different and/or contradict mine (ok let’s just say Jehova Wanyonyi’s case is a bit stretched J) but still I respect his followers’ views, am sure something must have informed their belief. To people who ask, care to listen and genuinely want to know, I create time to explain some of the seemly troubling things/traditions that they see Catholics do/practice, I know to an outsider they may not fully understand and even grasp the meaning which is perfectly understandable however one thing that I do not take kindly is some ignorant soul approaching me with holier than thou attitude, rubbishing my beliefs, the issues that I hold dear and closest to my heart and try to prove to me how their beliefs are the best! And like Abdulmote, a Jukwaa member puts it:

Religious belief is one of those phenomenon founded on one's sanctimonious respect for the bearers preference of the same. Without going into debate about which one is better or otherwise, it is nevertheless an identity which others must give due respect and tolerance of its contents, irrespective of what one may think of the same, even if the consequences of doing otherwise may result in a violent backlash or not. In my humble opinion, religious beliefs should qualify for exclusion, where the so called freedom of expression may warrant unlimited and boundless criticism upon any subject, without taking into consideration the hurt that may result from such expressions. And whilst I do respect your freedom of expression, he continues, I may end up feeling unimaginably offended, if you were to insult my sanctified beliefs without due consideration of how I may feel about what I may perceive as malicious and disrespectful criticism of my religious beliefs.

Bear in mind that any belief which has significant influence upon one's life, can also have what I would describe as 'conditioning influence', which kind of goes beyond the 'ordinary' understanding or perception that may be common to the non-believers. You may want to say that it creates 'passion', which most of the times cannot be explained by simple logic! Religious belief is one of them, only that it can be extremely influential so as to occupy a sanctified position to the bearer's mind hence the passion that stems out of it.

It’s therefore of utmost importance for us to exercise empathy, Empathy is a level of understanding upon others' emotions, only attainable through one's imagination and appropriate consideration, paid specifically to the bearer's given circumstances and assumed through the bearer's given perception. 

In the absence of such approach, it is easy to see how one may lack the assumed understanding, brought forth by those who may have put significant and commendable effort towards exercising the relevant empathy.

Empathy promotes understanding, compassion, harmony and everything positive, which supports the harmonious existence of humanity as may be desirable to all.

I wish you an empathetic holiday season my brethren!

#MyDressMyChoice? Sorry the categorical and consequential moralist in me begs to differ.

I beg to digress a bit, let me bring to the fore the story of Kanyari, from what I gathered from Jicho Pevu expose (Makri ya Injili- btw how does Moha ever come up with such titles, they make Kiswahili sound like Greek, if this is Kiswahili then I must say I got a raw deal from my Kiswahili teacher and syllabus for that matter:-P) Anyways back to Kanyari, now this Lady who apparently is in pain walks up to the alter to be prayed for by Pastor Kanyari, she says she hasn't been able to get proper medication regarding her excruciatingly painful breasts, naively she believes that pastor will be able to pray for her to alleviate her suffering, but lo and behold, the good pastor caresses her breast -forgive me but I think I saw a hard on - (from my approximation, she must have been in her late 40s or early 50s, the pastor in question should be in his mid 30s or late 30s not sure ) and goes ahead to order her to show her breast to the congregation casually saying that “kwani nani hajaona matiti”. In the whole saga, this is the part that got to me the most, I imagined that lady being my mother, I felt her desperation in losing her dignity by allowing the congregation to see her breast, the congregants among-st whom were young enough to be her kids, but she did this hoping that the man of God will help in her healing, that the embarrassment was a small price to pay for her healing, the healing that never was!

There is something almost sacred about women’s body, something that ought to be venerated, loved, cherished and feared at the same time. In 1992, Wangari Maathai led a group of women that occupied “Freedom Corner” in Nairobi’s Uhuru Park, demanding the release of political prisoners arrested and detained by the Moi regime. The government sent armed police to evict the women, who stripped naked in protest and defiance. Wangari Maathai was beaten unconscious and hospitalized, but the women of Freedom Corner eventually won.

Kenyan women have been laying their bodies on the line for years. A group of women stripping naked in public is one of our most potent political practices. Women’s bodies work as a potential and latent public space in Kenyan modernity because they usually appear in public only under cover: a frightening secret weapon everyone knows about. In many African communities, there is no stronger curse or taboo upon men than seeing “the mothers naked.” There is no stronger way for women acting together to register political dissent. Deployed in this way, women’s bodies have the power to make (something) public, to create “a public” around this action, and thus to produce both public-ness and publicity from the ground of their own corporeal materiality.

Not only has women used their bodies to gain political mileage in an otherwise impasses situations, we have heard some hollow threats of “I will strip if this and that happens not”- Ester Murugi comes to mind regarding Uhuru Kenyatta’s ICC case, am still waiting for her to make good her threats.

Why this long narrative about women’s body, you may ask. Well only after reading this will you understand where I am coming from and why I would literally strangle Kanyari with my bare hands, because he stripped that lady, that lady who could as well pass as my mother, that lady whose only crime was excruciating pain her dignity.

Before I continue any further, let me categorically state that I DO NOT condone any stripping whatsoever of any being, especially a woman who has brought forth another being in this world, in the same breath let me also categorically say that I DO NOT subscribe to #Mydressmychoice agenda being pushed. To argue my case I will borrow heavily from Emmanuel Kant- a German philosopher best known for his groundwork for the metaphysics of morals publication. Kant says that we are rational beings capable of reason, autonomous beings capable of choosing freely (able to choose how we dress and how we act should anyone dress in a manner that we are not comfortable with), he says that human beings have a categorical duty to RESPECT the dignity of persons and not to use people as means merely even for good ends.

To act autonomously, Kant continues, is to act according to a law one gives him/herself, the reason that leads us to the law we give ourselves as autonomous beings is the reason that we share as human beings, it is not idiosyncratic, the reason we need to respect the dignity of persons is that we are all rational beings, we all have the capacity for reason and it’s the exercise of that capacity for reason which exists undifferentiated in all of us that makes us worthy of dignity and since it’s the same capacity for reason unqualified by particular autobiographies or lifestyles or circumstances, it’s the same universal capacity for reason that delivers moral law, thus to act autonomously is to act according to a law we give ourselves exercising our reason that is the reason we share with everyone as rational beings not the particular reason we have given our upbringing , values or interests, it’s pure practical reason which legislates our priori regardless of any particular contingent or empirical law .

Therefore Kant emphasizes the need to uphold human dignity regardless of the circumstances, as a firm believer of categorical moral reasoning, Kant urges us to do the right thing for the right reason that the motive of duty and no any other motive should be the only force propelling us into undertaking something.

As a follower of consequential type of reasoning, I believe in analyzing the consequences of my actions, for every action there is an equal reaction and based on the consequences of my actions including my mode of dressing I can deduce that as much as I would have a preference on how to dress, my environment to a greater extent dictates how I carry out myself, how I dress and sometimes even what I say.

Decency is key to earning respect, decency is key on how people perceive you and therefore my dressing choice is not only dictated by the environment I am in, but also by the message I want to pass and this cuts across to both males and females. On Jamhiri day celebrations, Bahati of Barua hit song wrote and I quote:

"The past days I have received texts and in-boxes from my fans & family about my #SAGGING_HABITS which today has been a talk on social media after my Mashujaa celebration performance at Nyayo stadium. I know God has blessed me with some of you who are mature, ahead of me by age and I really can't ignore this. I will accept that am 20yrs old & still growing but I thank you for every correction for it makes me more mature and responsible today than yesterday.

Am officially writing this to say #BIG_THANK_YOU for every correction and asking you as my family to #FORGIVE_ME_FOR_I'AM_SORRY and willing to change. I may not be perfect tomorrow but am sure I'll try my best to be a better man than today"

This was after fans took issues with how he was dressed. It takes courage to say you are sorry and for this I respect Bahati for he did not look at his popularity or success and chanted #mydressmychoice but he had the humility to say, I erred and I promise to improve. Ruth Matete did the same and therefore unlike the woman who was stripped off her clothes and dignity (which was very uncalled for and unfortunate), these are individuals who were also stripped naked on social media but had the audacity to say look, am only human but I promise to do better.

My sister went to her 7 year old girl’s parents meeting, great legs and body she has and so she decided to flaunt them a bit in a mini skirt that rose well past her thighs when she sat, after the meeting, her daughter called her a side and said “ Mommy, usiwahi kuja kwa shule yetu kama umevaa hivyo tena, sitaki watoto wengine wanichekelee” and the mum was, ohh swiry, didn't you like my skirt, and she was like, not exactly I’d prefer something not as short and tight when you come to our parents’ day...see that's a priori knowledge that even kids posses!

I believe even in our various work places employers have somewhat dictated what’s acceptable in a working environment, for starters I know equity bank is a no trouser zone for ladies, the only place where #mydressmychoice slogan would actually fit would be in one’s bedroom but even then that would only be applicable if one is single, I do know our menfolk cherishes not t-shirts known as walking billboards and therefore as much as we would want to be one and in solidarity with our sisters whose dignities was stripped, we shouldn't do it under the burner of #mydressmychoice we should do it under the burner of respect for all and sundry bearing in mind that respect starts with self and that environment and sometimes occasions have their own specific set of demands that even known libertarians are yet to conclusively argue.

.....................................When in Rome, do as Romans do.......................................

  

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?....