Advice is easier given…

…than used by the person giving it.

Life has a way of teaching us lessons and boy…have I learned some valueable lessons recently.

Drama has a way of unfolding on us and leaving us at the brink of losing our minds. It happened to me (no relation to the column in Parents Magazine though).

So, my gal friend Maisha and I decided at the beginning of the year on a new year resolution. There was some baggage each of us was carrying, in the name of a man. She has been in a relationship with this man for about 2 years, but there is nothing to show, apart from a little gift she got at some point.

She is better off because I have NEVER received any form of gift from my man friend. I call him man friend because the relationship was lop-sided. It was a one-way street…and I shall not get into the gory details. When I started making demands, the man recoiled and gave all manner of excuses. I knew then, it was time to pack and leave for the next town.

It’s a crazy battle when you have to let go and move on. Letting go of a person whose little mannerisms you have got to learn is no easy task I tell you. So, when my friend Maisha jumped onto the bandwagon of many other friends telling me to let go of this man friend…I was like, ‘but he means the world to me’ – little did I know I was just a gas station to him.

So, Maisha kept drumming it into me…finally, in January, I decided to make the move and let go. It was not received well. I received a bit of tongue-lash that almost took me on a guilt trip. That one week of silence changed everything. The conversations changed totally. I tried to rekindle the embers because I was rock bottom, missing my baby…but the fire was gone. 

‘Isn’t that what I wanted?’ I thought to myself.

‘I want him back,’ is all that kept ringing in my head for the next two or so weeks. But the ‘damage’ was already done. (I should be applauding myself for detaching from the leech, but I fell broken, empty and lost). I am human, I am allowed to hurt, cry and feel lost. I’ll get over it.

So, when I decided to exchange notes with Maisha on what progress she has made, guess what her response was!

‘Sorry, but I can’t do it. Breaking up with him will mean that I will be lonely. I don’t want to feel lonely. Besides, if I break up with him, it means I will have to engage in activities that will make me tire…I don’t want that.’

I had to get a forklift to get my jaw off the floor. I couldn’t believe that this is the same MAisha we made a pact with.

Anyway, I have decided to move on and let this man friend be. Let him walk around in the mud until thy kingdom come.

Maisha has really disappointed me. That is not gal power. Men make decisions and stick by them. Because of my ‘dear friend’ I have come to learn that, pacts can be made and broken to favour one’s feeling and stuff…and we wonder why the marriage institution is not working!

Maisha is good at advicing people, but I have realised, she won’t follow the same advice, whether her own or if it comes from another mouth piece. Maisha told me that a woman has the power to hold a relationship together or to break it up and I should use that.

Which makes me wonder, ‘Are these the kind of friends I should be keeping around me?’

Wanda, another gal pal, told me that I have to will to move on. I just did that and give myself a pat on the back. I willed it, and the stars worked in my favour and I am moving on, faster than a speeding bullet. I believe, Wanda is the kind of friend I should keep close to my heart…as for MAisha, I think I will keep a low profile from her.

There is nothing that loses you street credibility than going back on your word. Say what you mean and mean what you say!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s your purpose on Earth?

Happy New Year – 2012

The first day of this new year is about to come to a close. No major events yet. I got a visit from my cousin, and a phone call from a close friend (since she got married, it’s like our paths will never cross again. One family function after another – well, the joys of being single, even your gal friends become almost out of reach). But thanks for phones and email.

I spent the whole day holed up in my Queendom. I was hoping to leave the house…but experience has taught me, once you leave the house, you walk into unnecessary expenditure. And at this juncture, I am on Island Brokeness. It’s better to stay out of view.

Now, the idea behind this post.

About a week ago, a gal friend of mine sent me a message so early in the morning, it read (not to paraphrase), ‘Have you ever felt that your purpose on Earth is complete…and no! I am not going to commit suicide.’

I laughed out so loud, I had to peer through my window, to see if there was a pedestrian out there, who might have heard me laugh and think there was a crazy person in here. I mean, what do you mean that you purpose is complete? At 36? Please. Wait, let me take a sip of tequila. Taking a whole shot might disorient me and the year is barely here.

For all I know, the only person who completed their purpose here on Earth was Jesus (that is if you are Christian). He was around here for…was it 30 years? Then He went back to Heaven (so the story goes). But then again, He’s still in the business of healing and interceding for all mortal souls. So, really, so long as you’re still breathing, walking and have all your faculties in good working condition…you are nowhere near completing your purpose. No! Never!

Just because you’re still single, have no kids to show for your femininity, have not got that big break for a good job, live in a shoe-box in the name of a house (like a host of single guys and gals these days in Nairobi), can afford to eat only one meal a day, have no one inviting you for all those big functions for one reason or the other, have married women looking at you funny – always thinking that you are after their husbands, who have turned wayward courtesy of they themselves, or have married jamaas looking at you funny any time you come round for whatever party, you don’t have ten degrees like your next door neighbour, have never been on a plane or crossed any of our Kenyan borders to go anywhere, don’t have at least one white, Sudanese, Ethiopian friend to brag about.

People, please! Take a moment to breath. Thank you.

There is a lot more to life than those countless degrees, that six figure paying job, having those kids, that elusive husband, that palatial mansion in Kitusuru, driving that Range Rover Sport, wearing the latest Victoria Secrets outfits…

Let’s get serious here for a moment.

Each of us has a purpose in this life. If we were done, then don’t you think, the moment people retired from active service in office, they’d just die off? Of course, what else was there to be done or live for?

Seriously!

Life is a mystery. We move from one stage of life to the other. That is why we develop from an embryo to a foetus, to a baby, to a toddler, to a teen, to a young adult, to an adult, to a middle aged person, to a grandparent and finally, God calls us home. But then again, please remember that, it is only God who decides when your purpose on Earth is fulfilled. That is why we are born and die at different times. Some expire while still embryos, others while foetuses…

There is so much to be done in one’s lifetime. Encouraging other people, working to make life better for other people, making your parents happy they have you as their child, a shoulder to lean on for your siblings, a good colleague and employee…the list is endless. So, why someone would thing they have fulfilled their purpose, is a wonder to me.

I remember a hymn we used to sing when I was a young gal in primary school.

‘He’s still working on me, to make me what I ought to be

It took Him just a week to make the moon and the stars,

Sun and the Earth and the Jupiter and Mars

How loving and patient He must be

He’s still working on me’

This hymn clearly states that God is not done with us. No! He’s still creating, still interceding, still blessing…so how would a mortal soul say their purpose is complete, yet God is still busyworking on each of us? I wonder.

Let us look beyond the here and now. There is more to life than what society expects us to do…the norm.

If you think you’re done…then I think you need to re-evaluate your life. Don’t measure your life according to society’s score card. We cannot all be the same. God created us in different time lines to fulfil or complete different tasks, in His given time and space.

I don’t go to Church much these days…and I am slipping ever so slowly and far from God, but I still know my Bible. Do some soul searching to know your true calling and purpose in life. 

There are times I have felt like giving up, throwing in the towel…even committing suicide, but I tell myself, let’s hold on and see what tomorrow holds for us. As I write, I feel like crap, because I am all alone on yet another mile stone in life, but I cannot just throw my hands up and wallow in sorrow. I took a warm shower and dressed up in an outfit I bought myself recently and have worn only once. I stayed in doors, with my telly and Keith (my laptop) and gave thanks! Though today my Citizen signal is BAD!

No one promised an easy life. No one said life would be fair. No book says this is how life starts and ends for each mortal soul. We all try our best to make a difference the best way we know how.

We make mistakes (I know I do lots of times), but God gives us another chance and a new day with renewed strength.

I could go on forever. Remember, give thanks in every situation, no matter how bad. Everyday has a new challenge. Every day has a new road map, find it and follow it. If you don’t find the road today, there is tomorrow to do that. Do what you can today and give thanks. Look forward to tomorrow, the day you make another soul happy.

One thing though. Don’t tell people what you are planning to do. I have learned the hard way that people talk ill on your plans and they fall short…and they laugh at you. Another thing, be wary of your friends. They could easily kill you.

Blessings in 2012.

 

 

Ending 2011 in Style

It’s been one hell of a year…for me at least. 

I broke my own rules, and rekindled an old flame. Little did I know, it was all a sham. The brother just wanted to sit and wait…wait for me to work my ass off and just sit, watch movies all day, and eat. Did I tell you that he kept playing for me this famous dancehall song (I forget who sung it)

‘If you don’t love me now don’t love me later/When my later is much greater/Me no want no impersonator for my paper…’

You’re asking me what this brother was smoking and drinking? To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t even think it has an S.I unit.

At some point, I decided to kick out the bad garbage before I lost my sanity, self-esteem and strength. I threw the brother out…and kept walking like Johnnie Walker.

I started the year in Church. I was optimistic that a good thing was going to come out of it. Wah! I was mistaken. What we plan does not necessarily follow in succession. I had no idea that someone was out to get me…in fact, two people. One out of good will, the other out of anger. I shall live it at that. I don’t know about you guys, but I seem to think my calling is nowhere near the Church doors. If it were, then I think I’d be God’s mouthpiece for all troubled souls. My dedication in Church has brought nothing but trouble and no smiles. Don’t get it twisted. I’m not renouncing the Church or my faith…but I don’t think my answers are in Church…you may put in a prayer for me if you wish. Butif it’s too much to ask, please don’t. I don’t want to carry my burdens and yours too. Mine are heavy enough already, but thanks for the offer.

Then came a low moment in the family. No, we didn’t lose any member (thank God), but some devastating news. I shall not go into details.

At some point, I was taking care of my siblings on my single income, with NO HELP from anybody. It was tough. Much as I love them, they had to leave. I could not take the pressure. Honest to God, I so wanted to help them, but psssshhhth! Shit hit the pan and I could not do it any longer. Bitter words were uttered, but I know where the shoe pinches, so I had to release them.

And I thought I had had the worst, until I came home one Thursday evening mid November to find my house broken into and ransacked. It looks like someone was out to get me. The way the house was searched…my payslips went missing…I had only one name in mind. They probably looked for a pair of hands to do the dirty job…and scare the living daylights out of me, and they got me shook up. As if that is not enough, they took me back like 3 years. I have to replace some of the things they carried. Asking for your boss for a salary advance (which is not much),to move house after a burglary is not fun. It means, for the next so many months, you are stone cold broke. And as usual, with no one to help you, because times are hard…and besides, with a loan(s) – and thank banks for the sky high interest rates, school fees, mortgage, the parents, rent, bills, salary advance and standing orders eating up your pay, how will you pay up? I wonder how shylocks are fairing with their money-lending. 

With the robbery, went my ‘little’ immaculate plans to do a number of things to improve myself before the year ended. Sigh!. 

Oh! Good things have happened too. I have attended about 5 weddings, and have been a maid in one. This is a good sign right? Hey! If you have bad intentions, don’t sambaza that negative energy. It stinks.

On the side – I’m warming my dinner. I forgot to light one burner, and the gas got leaking…And I’m so sleepy too. Do I really need to stay up? I’ve been at a wedding all day and I’m beat.

Oh yeah! It’s another New Year’s Eve and yours truly is all by herself, with Keith (my beloved laptop), telly, seats and everything else…including some 5 different species of roaches, for company.

All eaten, now just writing my post, dozing (it’s just 10.15), and watching the Totally Sold Out Concert on Citizen TV. Lovely dance moves. Nice idea to have the thing in studio – with the Al Shabaab threat of retaliation. Better safe than sorry. And outside, young men are causing a rawcuss (sp) – it scares me.

Missed my trip to the candy shop. I guess it shall have to be carried forward.

Just before I pen off, I just remembered I have some debt collection to do. People can really take you round in circles when it’s time to pay up for the creativity they asked you to do for them, so they could look good in the eyes of their clients. In 2012, I swear, new terms and conditions in operation. Take it or leave it. Creativity comes at a price, just like milk and bread at the shop.

Now I switch my attention to watching TSO Vol 7

Happy New Year guys and gals. Blessings all the way!

 

 

Stories of Marriage(s)

In this year of our Lord 2011, so many of my close friends have tied the knot (got hitched/married, for those slow on the lingo).

A good thing, I have been invited to all these wonderful weddings.

A bad thing, I have been left hanging. The almost only single gal in the pack.

Please, don’t give me those eyes. Is it my fault now?!

Okay. In relation to all this getting married, I have heard all manner of stories. The women complain and say, ‘I wish I knew this is what I was getting myself into. Don’t make a mistake of getting married’, they say to us the single ladies when we meet. And yet, when they met their partner, they kept telling us single ladies, ‘Oh, how wonderful it is to have a partner, someone who complements you yada! yada! yada!

1. I recently heard on telly – some soap or movie. Advice to women, ‘never beg a man to love you, you’ll end up being his slave or doormat’ or whatever it is they said. My funny friend Banda (pseudonym), says that, a woman should never throw all her heart to her hubby or boyfriend because, for one, he’s a stranger and doesn’t really care as much about how you feel about him. Secondly, when you love a man too much, much more than your own self and family, you risk losing yourself.

2. Men are dogs. So you just found that out? I’m sorry. Have you taken time to watch Discovery Channel? Please do, you will lots of valueable lessons. Guys, I’m not branding you dogs or playas…no, and neither am I advocating for that kinda sampling lifestyle… Lakini ladies, you had better sit down every so often and watch the Discovery Channel, you will learn a lot. Trust me.

3. This whole year on radio, there has been talk of sex (much or lack of it), spouses busting their significant others (why in hell’s name would you do that on National radio-this shows the level of immaturity in the parties involved-airing their dirty linen to the world). The things that people air on radio…Geezus! It’s madness. Clearly, people go to the Altar to exchange the vows, then when shit hits the pan, instead of going back to the Altar to find answers, they run to the radio airwaves, which makes the situation worse. People surely have lost their senses. And I thought we are a learned lot.

4. As my friend Banda says, ‘kutangulia sio kufika’. For sure, I have seen that happen too. Like I said before, society pushes people into many things, marriage and reproduction being at the top of the list. If the number of divorce cases at the law courts is anything to go by, it seems someone has missed the point somewhere.

4. There is also a talk show every other week on how to spice things up in some bedrooms. I say some because we have single men and single women, and married people who live single lives. Don’t get it twisted, I am not mocking or…trying to make light a grave matter. But anyhow, that is that. I think WE ALL need to go to the Mijikenda and the Tanzanian fellows to learn a lot of things. But then again, the world is more interesting with variety.

It is said that everything happens for a reason. So, over Christmas, I was bed-ridden in my house…reason being, I was down with a case of tonsilitis. Damn! My whole body ached, my head felt like a million drummers were making rounds in it…and my throat really hurt.

I got a number of messages, full of cheer, from even as far as Baghdad. Two messages actually made me laugh so hard.

As of now, a reaction to an antibio I got, my eyes are so itchy I can’t explain how itchy. I can only pad them with cold water, and avoid as much as I can to scratch them,because if I do…by the time I wake up in the morning, they will be all puffed up.

Back to Christmas Day and Boxing Day. So, on Christmas Day, I was in bed all day, with a very high fever…on Boxing Day, I had to go see the doc. I got checked and as we speak, I feel much, much better. I even got up early to do my laundry.

I had a guest…and that is a story (post) for another day. I thought she was just coming to pay me a visit because I had been unwell, until it was 10 p.m. She makes good conversation.

God! My eyes!

On Christmas eve, I had accompanied a friend to go visit a relative in hospital. Since I also got sick, I now know how trying it is to be unwell – it’s worse if one is in hospital.

Anyway…I am back to my normal self. I can’t wait to get back to work, so I can make some claims that well…let me not say, because, social media can make me miss that dream job. Employers are always hawk-eyed on these sites.

If you live alone and have ever fallen ill, raise your hand up. You tried calling close people and each one was out of reach? Even your land lady or land lord who lives just two paces from your house? Or, you were home alone, taken ill and it was a festive period and everyone else was with their family such that you could not call any one to come help you cook? That was my story for three days.

My friend from Baghdad adviced me to get a friend to come keep me company, but it was a mirage – at this time.

But I thank God that I managed.

My eyes! Geezus!

I tried to Google, but it seems Google didn’t want me to find out anything. Do you know I kept waking up every so often in the night to make sure that I still had my sight? Strange things happens when one gets unwell.

I just made me some nice porridge and had a cup. Yum!

Telly…the usual boring soaps and stuff. And news of the K.C..PE results being announced. It meant a lot back in the day…not any more. Maybe I grew too old.

Now, I’m waiting for the new year and those blessings our dear Lord has been promising me since…

Cheers!

Pregnancy…a disease? Please, style up!

Why is it that, in Africa, pregnancy is considered a disease? Why?

You work for a lady boss, but when you get pregnant, they treat you like you made a big mistake. Most of the women will sneer at you and not give you the time on a queue at the banking hall, at the ATM, in hospital, at the bus stop…why?

Is pregnancy a disease? I don’t think so, because when you finally have your baby, everyone wants to cone visit and hold you baby. How, ironic. Recently, an old friend came to see me at work. I was so worried for them because for starters it was raining and getting a matatu was not easy…

Mystery Dad

I never thought I would be writing a post about my dad, someone I have only heard of less than 5 times…and have totally no idea how he looks like.

I was chatting away with a new found friend on the net, and all of a sudden, I got such a bad headache from talking about daddy dearest. My friend urged me to make a point of looking for my dad and talking to him…to be honest, there was an attempt to have my brother Dre and I to meet him. The guy never showed up. We waited a whole afternoon. In this day of cell phones…he never called or sent a text to apologise for not showing up. Hell! He could even have lied, and I guess Dre and I would have understood. But he never apologised – just like he never apologised (I’m assuming) to mama, when he left her with two toddlers to take care of.

Mama told me once that a lady friend had wanted to adapt either myself or my brother, because mama wasn’t making much to pay for a house help, pay rent and take care of my brother Dre and I. But mama said, she declined the lady’s offer. Perhaps it was out of fear, perhaps she never wanted to live with the agony of not knowing where her son or daughter was, and if her son r daughter was being well taken care or…or perhaps she was scared that someone might decide to offer her child as a human sacrifice…whatever it was, mama decided to struggle and keep my brother Dre and I, no matter what the struggle she had to face.

I remember living with one of her sisters, Aunt Margaret. Sometimes when I think back…there are some things that happened when I was at Aunt Margaret’s, that sends chills down my spine…stuff I’d rather not talk about now…maybe when I’m a bit older because then, I will have nothing to lose.

Back then, I was at Aunt Margaret’s, my brother Dre was at grandma’s (God bless her soul). My brother Dre worked so much on the farm…he went to the village school. The village school was sort of dilapidated. That is how my brother lived his formative years. No shoes upon his feet. No proper schooling. No good uniform…for my brother Dre. When I think back, I feel so sorry for what he went through in his formative years.

While I was at Aunt Margaret’s, I remember being sent to go get milk. Milk for Aunt Margaret’s youngest child at the time. The child died. She was a girl. I can’t remember her name though. But I remember seeing her lying in a coffin. Her eyes half-open. She lay in the coffin, next to the front door. At that point, I never knew or understood death. I don’t remember hearing people mourning like they do these days. I don’t remember her being lowered into a grave, but I remember playing on her grave, which had been cemented.

The trips to getting milk…I had to go through bushes that were higher than myself. I never was scared. Not on a single day…until something happened…

I digress…but for a valid reason. These are memories that are relived on rare occasions, and need to be captured at that time, when we’re in that ‘trance’ that ‘moment’ – until that window shuts.

For many years, I was bitter at the old man. Since I was 12 actually. Bitter at someone I have never met, only heard of. Bitter at this faceless and nameless person for abandoning mama, my brother Dre and I. Bitter that I never got an explanation. Bitter that I never got an apology. Bitter that I have lived with bitterness. Bitter at life. Until I came to learn that, I am in a better position – and thanked God for it. I was a little appreciative, but bitter still.

Grandpa sent for us. Paternal grandpa – at least he had the nerve to make things right before he passed on. Grandpa, sent for us and I had take my brother Dre along. Grandpa talked to us through a translator. One of or cousins…Ken, told us what grandpa was saying. He said that, there was no need for us to go walking the Earth when we had a home.

I really can’t tell if people were happy to see us…or if they had their reservations about my brother and I just surfacing. It’s hard to tell peoples’ feelings in such situations. Land is a sensitive issue. But that is where we belong. Our roots. Our home. The salmon always swims upstream to go back to its origins. It’s a difficult journey that has to be made at some point.

We have wonderful cousins – or so I think.

Gramps died exactly a month after we went to see him. He had diabetes and had a bad wound on his left leg. I wish I’d have known him earlier. He seemed to be a nice guy. My brother Dre is as tall as gramps. And I was told I resemble grandma…not my mum’s mum, but my dad’s mum. I don’t know, but that is how they all put it…and they seemed so excited about it, like they were seeing a miracle unfold before their eyes. I don’t know about my brother, but I felt like I was a trophy at a museum.

Mystery dad. I wonder if my brother Dre and I will ever get to meet him. Why should I? I know you’re asking, why not? I don’t know. I might hit him on the head and kill him in the process. I might spit on him and call him unprintable names…or I might run for the hills cos I don’t know what he might do to my brother Dre or I.

Daddy dearest, you should have been a man about it.

My brother Dre and I are broken because of you. We are lost, because of you.

We are all human and makes mistakes, heaven knows I have my fair share, but had you been there, even as a shimmer of light, we, at least I would have appreciated it.

I know this sounds like it should be a personal letter or note to daddy dearest, but I know there are many Me’s and brother Dre’s out there, that is why I am writing this post today. I have left out many details, details I shall talk about another time…

As you live your days wondering, like my brother Dre and I…remember this, it’s therapeutic to talk about it. The bitterness lessens a bit. Because you and I are human, it bites and chews up our insides, but live we must…and appreciate every single day. Someone else never got so lucky.

At least I lived to appreciate new family members, whether step or direct family…lost and found.

Peace!

There’s always someone objecting

Now, I have been going through crazy experiences since September…it seems the devil and his agents were sent to torment me (mildly though).

I never really internalised how stress and depression can easily kills someone…but I lived it these couple of months. Believe me, it’s not a laughing matter.

Next time you find someone hanging by their neck on a tree branch, or someone is found dead on their bed with a burned out jiko in their room, or some rat poison or empty bottle of sleeping pills…think twice before you speak.

Anyway, I probably have talked so much about my mishaps, you can almost recite them by heart.

Now, like the lady on Single Ladies – the series, I had resigned myself to going on a man fast. Shock on me, that’s when heaven or is it hell, sends you all these men from wherever. There I was, sifting, and ended up making a choice. A choice that many people would sneer at…but a choice anyways.

Choice ODH has been working well for me, until a few days ago when I met choice Duckie.

Duckie seems to be well placed as a person…and well, very admirable. Sijui niseme. So, I was telling my gal pal how I was thinking of conquering Duckie. Do you know what she said?

‘What if when you go to see Duckie, he shuts the door and locks it and insists oyu sleep at his house?’

In my mind, I’m thinking, halo, I’m Thirty-fine, not 18. So next I ask her why she’s so pessimistic about my new found friend. She goes like,

‘Nooo, I’m not saying that something bad will happen, but just be careful.‘

Ok, that’s safe enough and I appreciate her concern, but, I sensed some bit of not wanting me to progress in life like she has.

Geezus! Women have issues. And the more reason why I need some male company already. Women are the worst discouragers. She is married and has a man who provides for her and her family, but when I mention that I have found someone who can do the same for me, in a little sinister voice, she’s not supportive.

I remember a time when she asked me for my opinion before she married the man, I was frank with her. I told her, if she feels he is the one, then she can go ahead and marry him. Then here I am asking for the same, I get mixed reactions…I shoulda known better than to tell her. I think that was the end of that discussion. From now on, I aint telling.

Ladies, quit the jealous trips already. Let your gals be happy. If you’re not happy with your choice…too bad, live with it. Just live and let live.

Guys never really sneer at one another. The honest ones that is. Someone will even go out of their way to help you pull yourself up – but for us ladies, we’re always put to pull that woman down to our level, because we don’t have the balls to stand out from the crowd and be counted.

So, is my man fast over?

Did it even begin? It never took off the ground.

And just after reading a blog about being single and liking it (surviving it), things aren’t any easier, when everyday, love, sex and stable relationships are shoved down our throats all over the place. Can’t a single person feel safe and relevant in this society anymore?

Either way

Today I stumbled upon an interesting blog (and decided to follow). This lady had put up a post about being single and liking it…and the things one can do as a single guy or gal and love it.

I like the suggestions…in fact, I love them.

Being single does not give you a right to throw a pity-party every time you see couples walking hand-in-hand, kissing all over the place and doing little thing s for one another. Life is what you make it. too bad you didn’t make a page for you falling in love with that charming guy or that beautiful lady. So what?! There are no guarantees in life. Life happens to some, if not all of us, at some point…it’s never really that serious, things are never really what they seem (that includes either being single or part of a pair). deal with it already.

I am single, and there are instances, so many years back, when I’d feel sorry for my bony ass for being eye candy to all the men I was meeting on a daily. I hated, yes! hated myself for being skinny and unattractive.

I concluded in my mind that I’d NEVER get any admirers for the remaining part of my life. All that changed though.

I am still single, not attracting much attention, but I have not sat behind to wallow in self-pity. I move on. I try my best at everything I do. And I do it to oerfection.

Now, in the same light of talking about singlehood, I happened to talk to a gal pal of mine…the topic steered to men.

Why is it that every married woman will tell the single ones that being married, and staying with a man under the same roof is not fun, is not easy, is tough, is horrible, is ALL things hell and abhorable? Yet, in another light, they will tell you how blissfull it is to be with Mr so and so, how they are all in love, how the honey moon is still on centuries after… why the double standards?

People will NEVER want to see you as happy as they are. Wait! Don’t get it twisted, I’m doing some wishful thinking…I’m just amazed. I have many questions. I have lived with a man under the same roof, for a month, and…apart from the fact that he didn’t work, was enough to rub me the wrong way. But he was a good cook, and would keep the house clean when and if he really wanted to.

Anyway, I have concluded, either way, you make make life interesting. Whether you’re married to that man whom you discovered snores like the was an earthquake going on, scratched his balls like he was about to yank them off his groin area…whatever the case, I believe there is a way to make living together with that person blissful. As blissful as all married women claim, when the boat is sailing safely on high seas. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not being sarcastic, but being real.

At least we single guys and gals keep things REAL. We don’t pretend to please anyone, yet hurt inside. Wah!

If you can’t make a fart in front of your significant other – there’s a problem right there.

Obssessions…and Costumes

Of late, there has been so much talk on radio about phones and why a hubby or wife (mostly hubby) has a million codes on it to prevent the wife snooping on it.

I mean, WTFH is wrong with humans? Why are you so hell bent on wanting to know the contents of your better half’s phone. If you have a hunch that he/she is cheating on you, then they prolly is, so quit with the Nancy Drew biz and learn/try to live with it.

Whenever my art high school teacher was on duty, he used to say this during parade, “Don’t trouble trouble before trouble troubles you” – when you go looking for trouble, you sure as hell will find it…in a bad way, might I add.

Whoa! Wait a minute. Don’t get it twisted. I am not advocating for men and women to go on a cheating spree and hiding their 10 phones from their significant others – with a million codes…neither am I encouraging anyone to be a Derrick on the case…be a little civil. Sometimes, someone’s own guilt will out the secret. They may tell you about it. But then again, this is not a guarantee. Nothing in life is guaranteed anyway.

Now, I am fully aware that we are living in very dangerous times. There’s the AIDS scourge and one cannot be careful enough…and that’s one valid reason to be on your significant other’s phone trying to sass out who they are waltzing with.

Secondly, there is the issue of planned attacks on spouses and their families of origin or their new families. I once heard of a story where a woman who was being divorced actually hired people to call and threaten her ex-husband in the dead of night.

So, please check yourselves on the obsession with other peoples’ phones. If it was a community phone, he/she would definitely let you use it.

I may be speaking out of ignorance, but I think people need to style up a bit. This is the 21st, almost 22nd Century.

Then we jump into the talk about costumes.

There are costumes for swimming, riding bikes, skating, bungee jumping…and pole dancing. I guess you didn’t see that coming.

Now, Kenya, and Nairobi in particular, is known the world over for having a reputation. Imitating anything and everything…from music videos, pimp my rides and celebrity homes shows.

Can’t we be original…just for once. Okay, China takes the trophy for imitations (they now run the world economy).

The first time I saw platform heels, it was when some lady musician (I forget her name), was doing the song, ‘One step at a time’.

Wacha when the shoes hit the stalls in the Kenyan market. I cannot believe, for the love of heels and all those beautiful legs that adorn a different kind of stylish heels, that women in Nairobi are now donning those shoes to work…and college. Ok, college girls can be forgiven, it’s a stage and they want to look trendy. The most painful thing (to the eye), is that they come in all the rainbow colours.

I see those costume shoes in movies where there is a strip club scene and ladies are working the poles like crazy. Next is on music videos, just to spice up the videos. On a normal day, those ladies don’t wear those shoes.

Woi! Nimeongea vibaya, now I feel like I’m coming down with something.

This day has been so long.