Back to School
This morning I was perched on my mothers lap as we traveled from one side of the city to the other[West Side to East Side as It is called by these youngsters] on my way to nursery school. The bus swerved sharply and my mother slid off the seat taking me with her and we fell to the floor, though safe and unharmed I blurted out "mami nitwagua" [mother we have fallen ].
I'm wearing this little green apron with my name stitched into it in yellow, not too sure who the designer is, maybe I should proudly say I am wearing MUM. I am in a happy go lucky mood not a care in the world as far as I am concerned the world is as large as where I am. Who am I kidding I have no idea about the world, but my parents and and siblings seem mighty proud when I get home and sing about all six continents from memory.
A few years roll by and I am in primary school in my white shirt,grey shorts and blue cardigan, long gone is the green apron with my name stitched into it in yellow, no longer do I fit on my mothers lap, no longer do I sing in chorus with the other kids, but here we say prayers in a strange language, a tongue that neither my father nor his forefathers have ever spoken, nor will they ever speak, I know not to which god we are praying to, yet I chant along with the rest to the morning prayer at my Indian school.
Now I speak in more than one language and still working on getting fluent in all, and pray in yet another strange one, we have no fields to play in, so we play in the back roads of our beautiful business district, using plastic oil cans for a football. On occasion you will find us playing marbles in the dusty the triangular shaped islands in the parking lot by the school, which once served as tree pots which once dotted this street.
My friends and I head of down toward Nairobi river hanging off the back of trucks as they roll down the hill toward Kirinyaga road in our quest to visit downtown to buy sweet chapati crackers or to eat "zambarau" dont ask I do not know this fruits english name all I recall is that it was purple an not very sweet and is about ninety percent large seed.
I'm still in primary school but have moved to a new school closer to home, now I take a ride in the morning and walk back in the evening with my schoolmates, i am no longer a kid, but I am the only one who is not yet in his teens. I now notice that there are many girls here, I now notice their beauty, but I hang out with the boys more avoiding getting into awkward situations with the girls. "Once one one of the girls exclaimed during lunch time and said we eat like dogs". These kids come from way more richer families than mine, they speak through their noses like the English.
I walk to school each morning after alighting from the bus stop, I still find it funny how the tune has not changed in the years I have heard it, the touts continue to shout "fourty six, fourty six, Kawangware, Bernard na Hurlingham, Kenya school of law".
The headmaster here is torturing me he keeps randomly mentioning my sister, but little does he know that he embarrasses me with his questions which he keeps posing during the most awkward moments like when he pops into class or during assembly.
Headmaster : (calls out my name during assembly and says) "How is your sister doing" every thing else he says gets drowned in laughter, I wish the ground would swallow me now.
I am still this little boy heading off to his teenage years, still very naive about life, girls, future and I am now in secondary school. I have to take a long bus ride here once again traveling from Westside to the Eastside, I get teased here for coming to a low class school based on the neighborhood I grew up in.
I have experienced this growth spurt, I think I got dangled in my sleep and stretched about two feet, I have a little know it all attitude, the guys I hang out with do not have bad habits that I know off though my other schoolmates are smoking everything.
I am now out of high school working and earning a little and I realise that each day is back to school, there is so much to learn and ponder you cannot know everything, college, campus, technical training just leads to more questions.
Keep learning classroom, life or wherever it is you can grow yourself.
I know just enough
I often hear arguments about this or that religion, this or that kind of tribe or people, each proponent trying their best to justify why their position is most correct and painting a picture of why all the others are wrong or why that class of people act in a certain way or why are the only ones who seem to have this or that worthy/unworthy attribute.
It is attitudes like these that lead to stereotypes, chest thumping and touting titles such as experts, we use our limited interaction, experiences to draw a conclusion and spread it as truth.
As children we heard the Indian fable of the blind men and the elephant, each blind man, drew a conclusion on the little information they had based on the location they were at around the elephant, but they were all wrong.
We are all limited by our interactions and we consistently draw all the wrong conclusions, I will never get to interact with all of the world no visit every location and one or other bias will drive the agenda for what I stand for or advocate or who I interact with, I must purpose not to jump to conclusions too quickly and express my thoughts with humility.
I once shared an apartment with a man who I thought was Chinese owing to his look, but when he introduced himself, he told me he was was either Afghani/Pakistani I forget, all in all he did not fit into the region I had concluded in my mind.
I thought all Indians in the city live in communal homesteads as they do here at home, but they do not. I was further tickled by the sight of an armed Indian soldier having gone to school with the small body dukawala Indians here.
I thought that only African people end up begging on the streets, until I saw the frail frame of a homeless Muzungu begging at a road intersection and yet another in another location within the same region which has a high population of Wazungus.
A colleague in the office made a statement about Islamic piety, generosity, honesty e.t.c and I asked a simple question are there Prisons in Islamic countries? are the prisoners there only foreigners and people of other religions.
Each and every one of us is built with a conscience and we make the choice to ignore it, we all have the capability to do that which is good, right, that which does not cause harm to others or place them in danger e.t.c
Christianity was brought to Africa by ill intended Muzungus, the purpose of the gospel is however not lost, it teaches tolerance, generosity, humility, love, understanding, caring among many other beautiful attributes. I am not perfect and I cannot purport to be I work at it every day not to sin and to do that which is right.
We must realise that there will be a day of reckoning for you and I and we will stand before a just almighty God, creator of the world
It is attitudes like these that lead to stereotypes, chest thumping and touting titles such as experts, we use our limited interaction, experiences to draw a conclusion and spread it as truth.
As children we heard the Indian fable of the blind men and the elephant, each blind man, drew a conclusion on the little information they had based on the location they were at around the elephant, but they were all wrong.
We are all limited by our interactions and we consistently draw all the wrong conclusions, I will never get to interact with all of the world no visit every location and one or other bias will drive the agenda for what I stand for or advocate or who I interact with, I must purpose not to jump to conclusions too quickly and express my thoughts with humility.
I once shared an apartment with a man who I thought was Chinese owing to his look, but when he introduced himself, he told me he was was either Afghani/Pakistani I forget, all in all he did not fit into the region I had concluded in my mind.
I thought all Indians in the city live in communal homesteads as they do here at home, but they do not. I was further tickled by the sight of an armed Indian soldier having gone to school with the small body dukawala Indians here.
I thought that only African people end up begging on the streets, until I saw the frail frame of a homeless Muzungu begging at a road intersection and yet another in another location within the same region which has a high population of Wazungus.
A colleague in the office made a statement about Islamic piety, generosity, honesty e.t.c and I asked a simple question are there Prisons in Islamic countries? are the prisoners there only foreigners and people of other religions.
Each and every one of us is built with a conscience and we make the choice to ignore it, we all have the capability to do that which is good, right, that which does not cause harm to others or place them in danger e.t.c
Christianity was brought to Africa by ill intended Muzungus, the purpose of the gospel is however not lost, it teaches tolerance, generosity, humility, love, understanding, caring among many other beautiful attributes. I am not perfect and I cannot purport to be I work at it every day not to sin and to do that which is right.
We must realise that there will be a day of reckoning for you and I and we will stand before a just almighty God, creator of the world
Who shall be our champion
"They have failed us!, they have failed us!", the cry goes out from one household an on to another. The words of despair are whispered in the darkness, they are muttered in low tones, for here no one speaks of it, no one mentions it here, lest you are picked out from the crowd for pointing a finger and brought before a judge for speaking out in a manner likely to suggest...........
Yet, the potholes grow in all shapes and sizes and those meant to fix paid too in money bundles of all shapes and sizes. There must be a bacterial equivalent that chomps and scrunches away, how do you explain the pothole on a new road, the gully's deepen, more lights go off as the bulbs loose the fight their days spent or their source cut off, yet a contract was paid for the poles to be sunk right and the cables pulled tight.
The darkness smiles and creeps in a little further, in that dark are smiles and grins, the creeps set about to lay their traps and pounce on those that linger or are unwary. The darkness continues taking over where the lamps have failed their vigil, shying away from the few vigilant lamps that put up a fight while waiting for the sun to come out to relieve them of their duty this night.
The cry of the commoner will be dashed against the walls of bureaucracy along with the supposed effort to end their plight. I have seen them he says "They walk with a sense of importance, their noses pointed high, twas only yesterday that they were haggard and you offered them a shoulder and a hand to get them there". Now they have forgotten who set them in that place, you are not here for handouts yet, they wave you off and point out directions over here, over there and over there, to get you out from in front of their face. You are ranked with all the others, your quest to make an honest living ignored, you are prodded with batons and shoved here and there as you scurry around toiling and plodding along, trying to make do with the little you have.
"They are shameless", they say in unison, "they dip their hands in the coffers and fill their pockets" while, we have to borrow to fill them up again, "they waste it here and there", not a care since it costs them nothing.
I see them every day, their backs are laden with taxes, while corruption eats away at their pockets, relieving them of the little they had managed to store in their pockets. They bear the scars of hard labor, boots and backs breaking, their problems blocked out by high walls, locked gates and tinted windows.
Many will go to sleep hungry and cold, as the drought, floods and bugs take away the little they had left from their toil. The hope of their young and bright snuffed out for the cake of employment has already been dished out to the lucky and the larger portion to the entitled and the connected. Since no one invests the cake never grows, yet huge sums sit in banks abroad or is buried in building that no one will occupy.
Yet even with their dreary looks, haggard steps, their hearts beat and their eyes have a glimmer of hope, the quest is not lost, a few among those that they choose understand their plight. Their hearts have not yet been turned black by greed and selfish desires, their eyes are bright and not blood shot from worry, from too many nights of gnawing at the next deal or next plot. Their hands are not soiled and God will bless their efforts, their blessings will over flow for they hear the plight of the oppressed, the orphan and the widow.
Yet, the potholes grow in all shapes and sizes and those meant to fix paid too in money bundles of all shapes and sizes. There must be a bacterial equivalent that chomps and scrunches away, how do you explain the pothole on a new road, the gully's deepen, more lights go off as the bulbs loose the fight their days spent or their source cut off, yet a contract was paid for the poles to be sunk right and the cables pulled tight.
The darkness smiles and creeps in a little further, in that dark are smiles and grins, the creeps set about to lay their traps and pounce on those that linger or are unwary. The darkness continues taking over where the lamps have failed their vigil, shying away from the few vigilant lamps that put up a fight while waiting for the sun to come out to relieve them of their duty this night.
The cry of the commoner will be dashed against the walls of bureaucracy along with the supposed effort to end their plight. I have seen them he says "They walk with a sense of importance, their noses pointed high, twas only yesterday that they were haggard and you offered them a shoulder and a hand to get them there". Now they have forgotten who set them in that place, you are not here for handouts yet, they wave you off and point out directions over here, over there and over there, to get you out from in front of their face. You are ranked with all the others, your quest to make an honest living ignored, you are prodded with batons and shoved here and there as you scurry around toiling and plodding along, trying to make do with the little you have.
"They are shameless", they say in unison, "they dip their hands in the coffers and fill their pockets" while, we have to borrow to fill them up again, "they waste it here and there", not a care since it costs them nothing.
I see them every day, their backs are laden with taxes, while corruption eats away at their pockets, relieving them of the little they had managed to store in their pockets. They bear the scars of hard labor, boots and backs breaking, their problems blocked out by high walls, locked gates and tinted windows.
Many will go to sleep hungry and cold, as the drought, floods and bugs take away the little they had left from their toil. The hope of their young and bright snuffed out for the cake of employment has already been dished out to the lucky and the larger portion to the entitled and the connected. Since no one invests the cake never grows, yet huge sums sit in banks abroad or is buried in building that no one will occupy.
Yet even with their dreary looks, haggard steps, their hearts beat and their eyes have a glimmer of hope, the quest is not lost, a few among those that they choose understand their plight. Their hearts have not yet been turned black by greed and selfish desires, their eyes are bright and not blood shot from worry, from too many nights of gnawing at the next deal or next plot. Their hands are not soiled and God will bless their efforts, their blessings will over flow for they hear the plight of the oppressed, the orphan and the widow.
Getting about
I took a trip the other day out to neighboring county, and we drove to Isinya via Kiserian, some sections are good others are bad others terrible and yet other sections no word can describe them, as there is no road to talk about. you have to get off the road to play dodge with whistling thorns in the bush since there road is terrible and truthfully this track is smoother than the road and from the look of things it was carved out during the rains.
We drove both off and an on the road swerving here and there to avoid potholes, the odd rock on the road and the occasional puddle. Since neither I nor the driver I was with had been on this road for ages, we were rather cautious and trying our best to have a smooth ride and hopefully save the cars shock's and our pockets in the future.
Whilst we dodged on the road, the three prados appeared on the right as we followed the off road track and continued speeding on the very bad road we had been avoiding. They drove on at high speed without a care in the world on the level of damage to the car and its suspension system, they continued on and eventually disappeared into the distance.
They drove through the rough section without a care in the world in any case its taxpayer who pays for these privileges enjoyed by this 'mhesimiwa'. When it is no longer serviceable mheshimiwa and his security crew will get a new one from Toyota Kenya and will go back to riding the rough roads rather than have them fixed for all of us to use.
Life goes on as it should, we all continue with the hustle and bustle of life, then once again to my surprise there are mounds of red soil all along the main highways. The city is gearing up to welcome a son of Kogelo. There are contractors giving the highway gardens a face lift, giving broken kerbstones their first coat of paint, setting up new paving for roads that have never seen a kerbstone ever since they were first built and now they are old and need replacing. I wonder are we not expected to enjoy a clean spruced up city too, am I not to see it with flowers blooming, with prohibitive yellow kerbstones, do we only tidy up the city when we have dignitaries visiting.
One would think that these dignitaries will have the time to note the work done in the corners of the city that they will never visit or care that there is a fresh coat of paint on the broken kerbstones. They will be quickly ushered to their destination and we will enjoy this look only for a while.
My mother did not wait to have visitors to clean up the house, she did her best to rally us to keep the house clean and tidy. We hated polishing the parquet floors, oh what a stink that floor polish had but how beautiful it made the wood look and this was routine rather than on the occasion we had visitors.
I want great roads that allow me and the rest of my countrymen to go about their business without having to worry on the clearance of the cars they own. I want to bump into mheshimiwa as I walk the streets or as I ride in a matatu or train as they too will have abandoned their expensive off road vehicles to experience the great commute on public transport. I want train services that ran all the time and keep me cushioned from the whims of the matatu welfare and owners associations and the occasional license suspension on a matatu sacco by NTSA. I need to get to work and not have to plan around a two hour ride for what should be a fifteen minute journey to the city.
Until that day comes keep living.
May we dwell unity, peace and liberty
They came in droves, they set asside their differences neither religion,ethnicity nor race could turn them away their minds made up they were going to stand with their fellow man.
May God bless us let their be plenty within our borders, we shall always be there for our fellow Kenyans and visitors alike.
Celebrating loved ones
It is interesting that we only seem to celebrate people when they are gone and therefore celebrating then in the past tense;
"oh! he was the most generous person that I knew."
"How she lit up the room with her smile."
"He was the best provider a family could ask for."
"She was a loving soul."
One of my lecturers gave me this one, this is how you get to know that a man was well endowed.
Mama boi: (Sobbing) "The gap that mzee left no one will ever be able to fill it".
Well today I wish to celebrate people in my life for being there for me, without them I would not be where I am today, no single contribution is too small each had its own impact, it is said that the Sun and our rotation around the sun results in seasons, yet without the moon we would not have any ebb and tide.
My beautiful wife Nicole has been my everything, my rock and my comfort, my best friend, there are no words that can truly express what she means to me, she brings out the best in me and I would marry her again in a heartbeat, if I had to do it all over again.
Mum I know that God has a plan for you, he is a God who heals, you may be reliant on us and you may feel helpless, but this was his plan and he may have forced you to rest for all those days you woke up early to prepare breakfast for us. You helped me get ready for school in my formative years, you carried me on you lap as we rode the bus, dropped me off in school and went to work and picked me up in the evening after my afternoon nap.
Dad you too the lord has hemmed in and kept you under our vigilant eye, he is God who heals you. You taught me the value of work and love for my wife, you left for work everyday and came back every evening, you provided for me and my siblings, you paid my school fees and provided a roof over my head, you called my mum lots of sweet names like darling and sweetheart, or had you by chance forgotten her name.
My immediate elder sibling provided many days of fun, we rode a basin and blackboard down the staircase like a bob sleigh, herded goats and cattle, shot many bottles with sling shot, rode his friends bicycles, taught me how to play chess and checkers, oh what fun we had without you I would never have learned what it means to have and keep a friend.
My other elder siblings were co-parents, they cared for me and nurtured me, they loved me and stepped in to guide me in my teenage years and helped provide for me during my years in college. My sis has been like a mother to me helping me along with the choices I have made and being an extra firm hand when my mum was away, her Immediate younger brother being a mentor and a father figure. Today my sibblings all continue to be my mentors and role models most of all in character.
Gish you introduced me to blogging,I had many laughs reading the couch, I may not be an avid blogger, but I would not have posted this tribute if It had not been for you.
To my bosses and team leaders both past and present, I thank you for the opportunities you have given me.
Thank you one and all, I cannot mention all of you, but your contribution has moulded me into who I am today, I am not perfect but with all the good things you have done for me, I will only get better and better.
Ni ya leo ni ya leo
vendor 1:"Ni ya leo ni ya leo"
vendor 1: "mia mbili",
vendor 2: "two hundred"
Do not be fooled by the figures being shouted in two different languages, its not to address those who do not hear either tongue, its a cumulative figure between the two
I have come in search of some mtush[second hand clothes], I have been threatened with the Kenya uniform phenomenon that plagued my dear sisters in the late 90s. Call it coincidence but thats the third guy I have seen in the beloved colours of my favourite polo shirt from "Mr bei".
This is the result of not having enough shops selling unique outfits, we have to settle for the bundles they bring to all their outlets, I wish they would get more original and bring only a handful of one design then my nightmares would be fewer, let someon else pick another design and I can brag that I have new clothes.
Sigh that polo shirt now cannot leave my estate gate lest I bump into a few more of my my fellow country men adorning their natural tan with one or maybe next time I might visit a pal and find that he went through the same thing and his wife has now turned his orphaned tshirt into a floor rag.
I could get traumatised for life.
Anyway, these T-shirts and polo shirts I am stretching in my hands seem like they will fit me nicely and I am certain I will not bump into anyone at least not in the next decade wearing the same thing I am wearing or claiming to have one like it at home.
vendor 1: "mia mbili",
vendor 2: "two hundred"
Do not be fooled by the figures being shouted in two different languages, its not to address those who do not hear either tongue, its a cumulative figure between the two
I have come in search of some mtush[second hand clothes], I have been threatened with the Kenya uniform phenomenon that plagued my dear sisters in the late 90s. Call it coincidence but thats the third guy I have seen in the beloved colours of my favourite polo shirt from "Mr bei".
This is the result of not having enough shops selling unique outfits, we have to settle for the bundles they bring to all their outlets, I wish they would get more original and bring only a handful of one design then my nightmares would be fewer, let someon else pick another design and I can brag that I have new clothes.
Sigh that polo shirt now cannot leave my estate gate lest I bump into a few more of my my fellow country men adorning their natural tan with one or maybe next time I might visit a pal and find that he went through the same thing and his wife has now turned his orphaned tshirt into a floor rag.
I could get traumatised for life.
Anyway, these T-shirts and polo shirts I am stretching in my hands seem like they will fit me nicely and I am certain I will not bump into anyone at least not in the next decade wearing the same thing I am wearing or claiming to have one like it at home.
Sigh! such is Life
The other day I heard someone complain about the way we seem to queue everywhere and the annoying comment was that we queue like children.
I was tempted to tell them that they have been in a queue since conception. Think of it the cells that made you had others before them before they were brought together an fused, If you were lucky you were the first to be born of that queue or came after some other kid beat you you it.
Either way when you were born some one else exited the queue of life and you joined the queue. When you walk into a shop, pay your bills, enter a building, fall in love, switch jobs, earn your pay, sit down for a meal, get hospitalised, move house, drive down the road someone else was probably there before you.
So life is spent in a queue the difference between you and the person ahead of you being defined by time and space.
Eventually when you exit this world someone will take their beloved away and you will take their place in the funeral home and another will be born in your place to join the queue of life.
So next time someone ask you to join a queue don't complain you have been in one all along, it does not therefore hurt to give way, just smile they are in a queue too.
I was tempted to tell them that they have been in a queue since conception. Think of it the cells that made you had others before them before they were brought together an fused, If you were lucky you were the first to be born of that queue or came after some other kid beat you you it.
Either way when you were born some one else exited the queue of life and you joined the queue. When you walk into a shop, pay your bills, enter a building, fall in love, switch jobs, earn your pay, sit down for a meal, get hospitalised, move house, drive down the road someone else was probably there before you.
So life is spent in a queue the difference between you and the person ahead of you being defined by time and space.
Eventually when you exit this world someone will take their beloved away and you will take their place in the funeral home and another will be born in your place to join the queue of life.
So next time someone ask you to join a queue don't complain you have been in one all along, it does not therefore hurt to give way, just smile they are in a queue too.
jumping da broom
The hot African sun is rising over the horizon, the birds have been singing their welcome song to a new dawn[matatus blowing their horns] not in harmony, but a cacophony that I had gotten accustomed to.
The wind was blowing past the great trunks of the tall trees [Apartment blocks], some of the inhabitants were peeking out of their nest holes, some scurrying out to deposit the weeks unwanted materials, others running out to bring back snacks and food for the morning meal to feed their offspring or feed their mates and in some cases feed those who were there just for the night.
I looked back to see how we were where we were, it was culmination of visits, herding goats and cows from my boma [ read ATM ] and bearing other gifts.
The price had been given and the down payment made. These had been handed over into the hands of a not so approving clan, who had demanded more and it was only after a nod of approval from the owner of the garden where this flower grew, were the gifts accepted.
The shouts of joy, singing dancing and smiling faces were a sight to behold. All this in the name of acquiring that flower that grew in their garden, a flower that had drawn the attention of many and now belonged to me.
The deal was sealed and with a few words of wisdom I was now on my journey to be classified as a chooser[read husband].
I stood and looked at myself, like a majestic ostrich grooming himself on the African savannah, I of the black son of vulture, was well groomed and ready to bring home a bride.
..................................maybe continued
The wind was blowing past the great trunks of the tall trees [Apartment blocks], some of the inhabitants were peeking out of their nest holes, some scurrying out to deposit the weeks unwanted materials, others running out to bring back snacks and food for the morning meal to feed their offspring or feed their mates and in some cases feed those who were there just for the night.
I looked back to see how we were where we were, it was culmination of visits, herding goats and cows from my boma [ read ATM ] and bearing other gifts.
The price had been given and the down payment made. These had been handed over into the hands of a not so approving clan, who had demanded more and it was only after a nod of approval from the owner of the garden where this flower grew, were the gifts accepted.
The shouts of joy, singing dancing and smiling faces were a sight to behold. All this in the name of acquiring that flower that grew in their garden, a flower that had drawn the attention of many and now belonged to me.
The deal was sealed and with a few words of wisdom I was now on my journey to be classified as a chooser[read husband].
I stood and looked at myself, like a majestic ostrich grooming himself on the African savannah, I of the black son of vulture, was well groomed and ready to bring home a bride.
..................................maybe continued
fragility of life
I apologise that this and my last post are in the doom and gloom. I lost a colleague not that I was that close to him or that we were great friends, but I wonder did he know Christ as his personal savior? and it made me realise that I never ask people this question. I ask do you know him ?
I know that this is a subject that is sufficient to drive most readers away from my posts, its a subject that most do not like hearing.
In my short life I have noted that mankind realises that there is a greater meaning to our existence. Mankind through the ages has had some belief in spirits or spirit.
If our own society has some hierarchy, should this not be the case in the spirit world too. It would therefore mean there is an overall Spirit, and being a Christian I realise that this is God. The God who created the heavens and the earth.
We hold our fate in our hands and we therefore make the choice to accept Christ as our savior or refuse his invitation. The realisation that our life is not our own, but is meant to be lived to serve God and not man can be a little scary. Without Christ your life is your own, this however does not mean hat God will stop loving you.
You would only be acting like any other child rebelling against their parents, their love for you still stays, but being human they have their limits.
The choice to follow Christ has everything to do with faith. We learn from books and my christian faith is based on the bible. I believe that their is a continent Australia, I have not seen it and will probably never set a foot on it, but I know of someone who has been there. If that continent were to cease to exist today, it would still be true I that I knew one person who had been to Australia and lived amongst my people in million years to come.
The many generations to come would still believe this truth because one of their ancestor had this interaction with one from Australia. In the same way there were many who met Christ and he said he was from God and is God and he performed many miracles in their day.
The bible is my reference to this historical fact. I may not have met him and may not know of a single person alive today who can testify to seeing him, I however know that one day I will see him again and I have life in abundance through him.
Will you make that choice too?
I know that this is a subject that is sufficient to drive most readers away from my posts, its a subject that most do not like hearing.
In my short life I have noted that mankind realises that there is a greater meaning to our existence. Mankind through the ages has had some belief in spirits or spirit.
If our own society has some hierarchy, should this not be the case in the spirit world too. It would therefore mean there is an overall Spirit, and being a Christian I realise that this is God. The God who created the heavens and the earth.
We hold our fate in our hands and we therefore make the choice to accept Christ as our savior or refuse his invitation. The realisation that our life is not our own, but is meant to be lived to serve God and not man can be a little scary. Without Christ your life is your own, this however does not mean hat God will stop loving you.
You would only be acting like any other child rebelling against their parents, their love for you still stays, but being human they have their limits.
The choice to follow Christ has everything to do with faith. We learn from books and my christian faith is based on the bible. I believe that their is a continent Australia, I have not seen it and will probably never set a foot on it, but I know of someone who has been there. If that continent were to cease to exist today, it would still be true I that I knew one person who had been to Australia and lived amongst my people in million years to come.
The many generations to come would still believe this truth because one of their ancestor had this interaction with one from Australia. In the same way there were many who met Christ and he said he was from God and is God and he performed many miracles in their day.
The bible is my reference to this historical fact. I may not have met him and may not know of a single person alive today who can testify to seeing him, I however know that one day I will see him again and I have life in abundance through him.
Will you make that choice too?
If you knew when you will die
I got to watch an old movie "Meet Joe Black", and I got to ask myself what would you do if you knew when you would die or if death chose to be your companion and revealed himself to you. Do you begin to attempt to try and put your affairs in order? try and make amends ? try and do the things you never got to do? or do you continue living life as you know it.
What do people gain from all their labors at which they toil under the sun?[Ecl 1:3]
We have this great fear of the unknown, be it success, failure or even our own demise. We always want to hold on to the known. Sometimes one is left to wonder why we receive the gift of life. We live, love, cry, hug, hold etc...............
I am no guru, I do not have the answers, I sail the same seas of uncertainty as you do, never knowing whats over the horizon or what tomorrow will bring, never knowing where the lands of opportunity lie, but sailing a course I chart and praying that Gods winds of blessings will be with me on my voyage.
Love,cry,hug and live.. most of all let christ be born in your heart he knows our tomorrow.
Villagers In the City
Every Saturday like clockwork the vervets would visit. Yeah I know "do not feed the animals", well there was never any harm feeding them with bananas if there were available. It was always an amazing sight to watch the babies clinging to their mothers bellies, while they made their tight rope walk along the barbed wire fence on one wall.
Puppy the estate dog would always have fun chasing the them up the trees or up the wall, where they would chatter expletives at her for infringing on their outing.
Puppy the estate dog would always have fun chasing the them up the trees or up the wall, where they would chatter expletives at her for infringing on their outing.
Unlike the vervet monkeys that made the weekend visit to the estate. Most of the city dwellers have found themselves thrown into city life right from their villages, the need to earn a living has resulted in a migration to our only major city in the country.
The need to prove to the folks upcountry and their peers that they are now city dwellers and doing well, has resulted in most of these families and singles in the middle class buying the odd car to beat traffic. They drive around in total disregard to traffic rules driving as they would move on the sidewalk where no lanes nor traffic rules apply when they were pedestrians.
They toss items destined for the garbage pile out the car window, yet they dont do this in their own homes making the assumption that its only one item forgetting there are a few million other citizens inclined to do the same.
They toss items destined for the garbage pile out the car window, yet they dont do this in their own homes making the assumption that its only one item forgetting there are a few million other citizens inclined to do the same.
Healthy
Its amazing that when you wake up in the morning, you go about your business without ever thinking about how your body was able achieve all this.
You open your eyes and they see, you stretch forth your hand to hit the snooze button and it is done.
You open your mouth and curse and you hear yourself curse for getting up late.
You finally grab and toss the covers, haul yourself out of bed and your feet just move and hit the ground and hold you up.
You walk away from bed and take a shower or bath, get dressed and go about your day.
You do not tell you heart to beat, nor ask your stomach to digest the junk you eat. These bodies are amazing.
I thank God for the gift of life, may hear and heal those who are seeking him.
You open your eyes and they see, you stretch forth your hand to hit the snooze button and it is done.
You open your mouth and curse and you hear yourself curse for getting up late.
You finally grab and toss the covers, haul yourself out of bed and your feet just move and hit the ground and hold you up.
You walk away from bed and take a shower or bath, get dressed and go about your day.
You do not tell you heart to beat, nor ask your stomach to digest the junk you eat. These bodies are amazing.
I thank God for the gift of life, may hear and heal those who are seeking him.
Making it rich in SA
The football fever is gripping everyone around, the telltale sound of blaring vuvuzela, the watchie with his karatio[radio] listening to some football broadcast, to the fun loving, beer drinking football fans who only watch the game from bars and would never pay for a ticket to a stadium and the soap loving other halfs are enjoying it too [on ocasion they get it wrong and cheer both teams of course].
I think our stadia management have just never gotten it right, build stadii' with balconies and hire out these recreational areas to bars and you will have a full stadi' every time, fans flocking in to watch the local league matches, then share out the profits with KBL,Kuguru,keroche,Coke companies etc.
I digress too much from my intended topic :-), my plan was in motion, I had already planned how I would get biashara ya matube, njugu karanga, na peremende za KSL to the stadiums of SA, this was dashed by all the rules and regulations governing such activity.
now all I can do is play it in my head, my apprentices walking in the stands,with a hand full of SA mashilingi, rattling them in rythm, enticing customers with their accent.
"cia boiro, cia boiro cia boiro
njugu karanga,
sim sim na thweetie ..........."
Their boxes loaded with our local delights, ksl and tropical sweets on one side, white cones of full of roasted njugu karanga standing majestically on the another, little sachets of simsim and roasted sunflower seed filling the middle and the occasional hotpot full of hard boiled eggs.
sigh!.....................
I would have made it rich.
I think our stadia management have just never gotten it right, build stadii' with balconies and hire out these recreational areas to bars and you will have a full stadi' every time, fans flocking in to watch the local league matches, then share out the profits with KBL,Kuguru,keroche,Coke companies etc.
I digress too much from my intended topic :-), my plan was in motion, I had already planned how I would get biashara ya matube, njugu karanga, na peremende za KSL to the stadiums of SA, this was dashed by all the rules and regulations governing such activity.
now all I can do is play it in my head, my apprentices walking in the stands,with a hand full of SA mashilingi, rattling them in rythm, enticing customers with their accent.
"cia boiro, cia boiro cia boiro
njugu karanga,
sim sim na thweetie ..........."
Their boxes loaded with our local delights, ksl and tropical sweets on one side, white cones of full of roasted njugu karanga standing majestically on the another, little sachets of simsim and roasted sunflower seed filling the middle and the occasional hotpot full of hard boiled eggs.
sigh!.....................
I would have made it rich.
a last ditch effort
The year is over, an i've gotten a little older, great things have happened and sad things too, all in all im greatful for the opportunity to be here.
Tis a year when we lost friends, may the good lord rest their souls in peace, watched friends jump da broom and yes jumped it too, welcomed nephews and nieces, congratulated one another for great achievements and now it is over.
I thank you for your friendship, we have not talked much but I remember you.
Tis now the season of good cheer,
an has been a good year,
so go out and do not fear,
christmas is finally hear.
Hehe! I know im a cartoon at times, anyway not too sure when next ill be in here, hey there goes another one.
Tis a year when we lost friends, may the good lord rest their souls in peace, watched friends jump da broom and yes jumped it too, welcomed nephews and nieces, congratulated one another for great achievements and now it is over.
I thank you for your friendship, we have not talked much but I remember you.
Tis now the season of good cheer,
an has been a good year,
so go out and do not fear,
christmas is finally hear.
Hehe! I know im a cartoon at times, anyway not too sure when next ill be in here, hey there goes another one.
I wish you a Merry Christmas and A happy new year. Dont forget to thank the
good lord above for his grace and mercy.
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Merry Christmas.
May you be blessed richly.
Mucere,cabaci,mutura, mitungo na gitoero, irathimo cia
thabari, na ikeno cia andu anyu.
good lord above for his grace and mercy.
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Merry Christmas.
May you be blessed richly.
Mucere,cabaci,mutura, mitungo na gitoero, irathimo cia
thabari, na ikeno cia andu anyu.
India Only
The land of roaring tigers and trumpeting elephant, beautiful sari and buzzing tuktuk.
It was funny to meet a soldier here. The memory of others of his kind back home bringing a smile to my face, I would never imagine the dukawala, luthuli walking muranga road living indian in uniform, yet here was one in full uniform manning the train station.
This was a land of many contrasts, people on scooters, small cars and cow drawn carts, beautiful apartments with stinking side streets, beautiful roads with old door less Leyland buses while modern overhead metro trains run to and fro.
The air was hazy when I landed, the heat of the day dispensed the idea that it might be mist, it was a cloud of exhaust.
A beautiful country nothing like my home, a great an numerous people, with leaders who have focus and a desire to change the country for their people. How I wish my people would do the same too.
It was funny to meet a soldier here. The memory of others of his kind back home bringing a smile to my face, I would never imagine the dukawala, luthuli walking muranga road living indian in uniform, yet here was one in full uniform manning the train station.
This was a land of many contrasts, people on scooters, small cars and cow drawn carts, beautiful apartments with stinking side streets, beautiful roads with old door less Leyland buses while modern overhead metro trains run to and fro.
The air was hazy when I landed, the heat of the day dispensed the idea that it might be mist, it was a cloud of exhaust.
A beautiful country nothing like my home, a great an numerous people, with leaders who have focus and a desire to change the country for their people. How I wish my people would do the same too.
Call me naive or a political infant, and tell me to ask myself what I can do for the government, the truth is I wish they could do a whole lot with the taxes I pay.
We have been let down by our political class right from independence, they have failed to take up their responsibilities, like a parent with an unwanted bastard child, going about business as usual and forgetting their responsibilities. They have lined their pockets with ill gotten gains, failed to fulfill the mandate given to them by us the "naive" electorate.
This whole bunch know something about those who led our country through the bloody civil strife, they know who pit our people against each other while they enjoyed the comfort of their palatial homes ready with visas and air tickets for their families. The rest of us were turned into hermits, protecting our soft and vulnerable selves and hoping our homes were deep enough to protect us and hoping all the while that our little legs would help us scurry off to safety when things got worse
They will not speak out and are probably too nervous to say anything, anyone they speak out against might reveal something about them and so they stay mum, but why am I defending them they are a greedy and selfish bunch.
I wish our people would stop showing up for their rallies or bazaars and listening to all that nonsense, I wish they would shout them down and ask them to get realistic and not laugh or jubilate at their stupid and stale jokes, I wish they would refuse to turn up and let these leaders speak to empty seats and their boot licking entourage.
Let us love that which is ours, that which we inherited from those who fought for for it, let us safeguard our sovreignity, we have too much to loose if we sit back and do nothing. I think its time that we as a people need to stepped up and fought for our rights. I do not mean that we tke up arms, or go down the bloody road again. We need to find new avenues to get our views heard and get our leaders to step up to the plate and speak out on our behalf as they should. We need to champion a new cause, its time for them to do their job since we cannot kick them out of office, we need our politics to mature, at our age we should be wiser and more ambitious, our responsibilities have grown so are the worlds expectations of us.
We need to make the right choices and educate the "illiterate electorate" we as an electorate need to like really think of the leaders we choose let us really get to know who they are and what they stand for. We need them to brign back knowledge from out there, things we could adopt and help us come up with home grown solutions for our problems. We need to borrow great ideas that have worked elsewhere and bring our economy to new heights, improve on healthcare, do more for our enviroment, improve our infrastructure and get all those things that will make our country a great nation.
We have been let down by our political class right from independence, they have failed to take up their responsibilities, like a parent with an unwanted bastard child, going about business as usual and forgetting their responsibilities. They have lined their pockets with ill gotten gains, failed to fulfill the mandate given to them by us the "naive" electorate.
This whole bunch know something about those who led our country through the bloody civil strife, they know who pit our people against each other while they enjoyed the comfort of their palatial homes ready with visas and air tickets for their families. The rest of us were turned into hermits, protecting our soft and vulnerable selves and hoping our homes were deep enough to protect us and hoping all the while that our little legs would help us scurry off to safety when things got worse
They will not speak out and are probably too nervous to say anything, anyone they speak out against might reveal something about them and so they stay mum, but why am I defending them they are a greedy and selfish bunch.
I wish our people would stop showing up for their rallies or bazaars and listening to all that nonsense, I wish they would shout them down and ask them to get realistic and not laugh or jubilate at their stupid and stale jokes, I wish they would refuse to turn up and let these leaders speak to empty seats and their boot licking entourage.
Let us love that which is ours, that which we inherited from those who fought for for it, let us safeguard our sovreignity, we have too much to loose if we sit back and do nothing. I think its time that we as a people need to stepped up and fought for our rights. I do not mean that we tke up arms, or go down the bloody road again. We need to find new avenues to get our views heard and get our leaders to step up to the plate and speak out on our behalf as they should. We need to champion a new cause, its time for them to do their job since we cannot kick them out of office, we need our politics to mature, at our age we should be wiser and more ambitious, our responsibilities have grown so are the worlds expectations of us.
We need to make the right choices and educate the "illiterate electorate" we as an electorate need to like really think of the leaders we choose let us really get to know who they are and what they stand for. We need them to brign back knowledge from out there, things we could adopt and help us come up with home grown solutions for our problems. We need to borrow great ideas that have worked elsewhere and bring our economy to new heights, improve on healthcare, do more for our enviroment, improve our infrastructure and get all those things that will make our country a great nation.
aaatchoo !
ppphhhh!, pufff! puff!, huff!, aaaaaatchoo, jeez this place is dusty, its flu season so we have the warm sweaters and steaming mugs of coffee, tea an whatever your poison might be, this place aaaaatchoo!, is pretty dusty and neglected, man I need to pop in here more often.
Well the cold weather is not going anywhere and its official our environment is ruined an im trying my best to keep the environment clean, "Hey dont say that I heard that". I'm still here getting older..... was about to say wiser, but i'm sure someone might just go "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah silly" I guess it sounds better on radio.
Oh! jeez, so you are asking how I have been, are you sure you want to know, really know, well im still with sweetie, yep the same one I was with during the last naivasha trip and yes there have been others, "Wewe! stick with me I meant trips not sweeties, if there were others and I am not saying that there are or is and I would not say it here, don tell anyone blogs have ears".
Yep I am still working at the new place now old, I will not have one of those banners "under new management on the door" and it lasts 3 year anyway back to the work thingi, yep I told you id tell you when I get there I'm sure you remember that from that silly poem, the one over yonder poem[Green], yuck jeez what was that all about. I cant complain its a lovely place, but yet again lovely is relative :).
So phew the dusting is over, I missed a few spots, but twill do for now, twas nice talking to you from in here.
Cheers God bless.
Well the cold weather is not going anywhere and its official our environment is ruined an im trying my best to keep the environment clean, "Hey dont say that I heard that". I'm still here getting older..... was about to say wiser, but i'm sure someone might just go "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah silly" I guess it sounds better on radio.
Oh! jeez, so you are asking how I have been, are you sure you want to know, really know, well im still with sweetie, yep the same one I was with during the last naivasha trip and yes there have been others, "Wewe! stick with me I meant trips not sweeties, if there were others and I am not saying that there are or is and I would not say it here, don tell anyone blogs have ears".
Yep I am still working at the new place now old, I will not have one of those banners "under new management on the door" and it lasts 3 year anyway back to the work thingi, yep I told you id tell you when I get there I'm sure you remember that from that silly poem, the one over yonder poem[Green], yuck jeez what was that all about. I cant complain its a lovely place, but yet again lovely is relative :).
So phew the dusting is over, I missed a few spots, but twill do for now, twas nice talking to you from in here.
Cheers God bless.
This day
If age makes things better I am nearing fabulous.
These are just but a few of the things that come to mind when I think of three and in no particular order.
Good,better and best.
Threesome
Buffalo,elephant and rhino, part of the big five.
Red,yellow and blue
Three blind mice.
Halfway through a tusker six pack.
Mahewa 2.1 configuration
A scooter with a spare wheel
A traditional stool
hmm! interesting thought in another five I can vie for presidency or become an MP and earn 800 K a month for five years and give more empty promises for another term, enough about that...... to more important things.
Sweetheart, sorry for the scare and thank you for putting up with me. To all those who came to my aid on the 1st of March may God bless you all for your friendship and support, you changed my future, supported and comforted my sweetheart when I was not able to be there for her. Your prayers were answered and I am around today, I thank you one and all.
I just had to submit something, I am now over the hill and holding on for dear life, thank you Lord for this life.
Amen
These are just but a few of the things that come to mind when I think of three and in no particular order.
Good,better and best.
Threesome
Buffalo,elephant and rhino, part of the big five.
Red,yellow and blue
Three blind mice.
Halfway through a tusker six pack.
Mahewa 2.1 configuration
A scooter with a spare wheel
A traditional stool
hmm! interesting thought in another five I can vie for presidency or become an MP and earn 800 K a month for five years and give more empty promises for another term, enough about that...... to more important things.
Sweetheart, sorry for the scare and thank you for putting up with me. To all those who came to my aid on the 1st of March may God bless you all for your friendship and support, you changed my future, supported and comforted my sweetheart when I was not able to be there for her. Your prayers were answered and I am around today, I thank you one and all.
I just had to submit something, I am now over the hill and holding on for dear life, thank you Lord for this life.
Amen
i posted something
Blogging can be such a nightmare, while trying to figure out what to write, you ponder and wonder, you strategies on the structure, arranging and rearranging your words and sentences.
You frantically delete your false start, then start typing only to delete again, you highlight and copy sections, pasting where possible in the hope that you come up with something worth reading.
You are juggling several ideas, you scratch your head sip your drink and think of the best way to start, finally you settle on a topic and begin the paragraph and you change your mind, grinning gleefully at a new and better topic and frowning when it does not take shape since you only managed to come up with one paragraph.
Then another topic comes to mind and it seems quite promising, you crack your fingers and stretch your arms while adjusting your sitting position and getting more comfortable, you fingers settle on the keyboard and if you are not a fast typist you fold your fingers and position the index fingers just right while your eyes sweep the keyboard searching for the appropriate keys while you type away.
Finally your job is done, a little modification here and there and you seat back and enjoy your handy work, some one might like it you hope and others will hate it, but what the .... you only wanted to blog and blog you did.
You frantically delete your false start, then start typing only to delete again, you highlight and copy sections, pasting where possible in the hope that you come up with something worth reading.
You are juggling several ideas, you scratch your head sip your drink and think of the best way to start, finally you settle on a topic and begin the paragraph and you change your mind, grinning gleefully at a new and better topic and frowning when it does not take shape since you only managed to come up with one paragraph.
Then another topic comes to mind and it seems quite promising, you crack your fingers and stretch your arms while adjusting your sitting position and getting more comfortable, you fingers settle on the keyboard and if you are not a fast typist you fold your fingers and position the index fingers just right while your eyes sweep the keyboard searching for the appropriate keys while you type away.
Finally your job is done, a little modification here and there and you seat back and enjoy your handy work, some one might like it you hope and others will hate it, but what the .... you only wanted to blog and blog you did.
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