She had this fairytale written to her future self before she stumbled on untamed and learned more about envisioning the truest, most beautiful life you want for yourself and ensuring you get nothing short of it. Dear love, she wrote… On this day, the person you are with does not celebrate valentine’s day. You thought you will finally get to do those couple dinners because for once valentine’s has found you partnered. Well, accept nothing short of being wined and dined heck you are a dime!
Wined and dined she was.. a knight in shining armour just scooped her and it was surreal. Manifesting, the universe conspiring to get her heart’s desires she affirmed. Well, it was rosy and colorful, she got something more than she envisioned and it kept true day by day. Yes, she was swept off her feet but only to be dropped a few miles ahead. A stepping stone it still was.
The morning after… It is a sad lonely walk. Some call it a walk of shame. She is laughing at the absurdity of it all. The universe does not leave things halfway, she meets one of those familiar faces that you greet each day because you share a routine. Of course, he comments… have you been around, it’s been a month since I last saw you in the morning? That is literally the duration of the fairy tale, it wasn’t lost even to him. How does one answer that? Well, I had a guy…
I picked this book under protest. Why would I care if someone had seven Husbands especially since they were not concurrent. I hated the blurb, I hated the first 100 pages but I continued to read maybe to spread the hate or see whether I would have a change of heart. I hated that this book came highly recommended by not 1 or 2 but 3 of my friends. I hated that I spent an hour updating my reads for the past 3 years on Goodreads so that I could get a recommendation based on books I have read and liked and goodreads’ first suggestion was this.
For once I felt ashamed to publicly declare my current read and would much rather say I was not currently reading anything. I had already judged myself and the book too harshly and I passed over the judgment to everyone else even before they could do it. What’s to write about a woman’s 7 husbands… of course it cannot be your everyday woman, it had to be based on somebody extraordinary whose life we would want a sneak peek of. I really cared less about Evelyn’s Husbands but for some reason I kept going.
The book is an easy read. The author, editor or publisher thought fit to give it a twist. For me it was just meeh because I was just reading the words and that they tell a story was a bonus. It is the first book that I hated with every part of my being but still flipped through the pages. My hatred for Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secret of the Universe developed as I was reading the book but this one was pre-meditated. I decided I was not interested in the book, I did not like the story, and the blurb further confirmed this but I still read.
Evelyn Hugo was a go-getter. She knew she lacked what it takes to be an actress but she put in the work. I liked that the book brought out a concept I believe in that it just takes one person taking a chance on you and from there you have to capitalize on it. The author says no one throws caution to the wind unless the wind is blowing their way. The other concept that I believe in that the book brought out was that if you are looking for a reason to do something you will always find it. I believe we make up our minds and then find reasons to support our decision but disguise the process and make the reason seem to be what pushed us to make the decision. An example would be my dislike for the book because hate is such a strong word that was unfounded but after reading the blurb I decided even that supports my decision.
I know this book review is not what you were expecting and has veered off my style and even so, it is exactly what I will put up not because I hate the book or the author but to maintain my projection of thoughts and feelings like I always have. Given that you have read this far, my continuous use of the word hate has not put you off. I normally put down books I dislike or read them as a mockery as I am currently doing with Our Chemical Hearts by Krystal Sutherland. I do not remember any other book that evoked hatred from me but there has to be a reason why I kept flipping the pages. Do read the book and judge yourself.
I have just finished my third book of the year Educated by Tara Westover. I think the title is the best fit for the book and the cover even better. Educated is a memoir and bruh, Tara has literally been through it. I bring up the book to give context to my thought process. Tara’s parents did not believe in formal education. They both seem to have received formal education in their formative years. The first 3 children were allowed to go to school for a while until Tara’s dad decided it was no good for them and he had them drop out. Their mum home-schooled them for a while but their dad always found tasks to engage them in until they had no time to sit and learn.
Among the siblings, those who were interested in formal education had to teach themselves. Their mum gave them guidance here and there but mostly it was personal drive. She mostly ensured that they knew how to read and from there they would learn whatever they thought relevant. Tara learned how to read using the Mormon Bible. She went straight from a lack of formal education to studying for her entrance exam to the university and from there she worked her way to get her Doctorate. Two of her siblings also managed to achieve that.
In educated we see how other people’s limiting beliefs can be imparted to us. Sometimes we carry the mantle of defending those beliefs as if they are our very own maybe because we do not want to imagine that we have held onto something for so long that is untrue. Tara’s dad had strong beliefs about who a faithful servant was and he ensured his family not only knew the beliefs but also practiced them. They never sought medical attention for the serious injuries inflicted while working for their dad. they waited on the Lord to cure them because he had allowed the injury to happen in the first place and everything is his will.
To admit uncertainty is to admit to weakness, to powerlessness, and to believe in yourself despite both. It is a frailty but in this frailty, there is strength: the conviction to live in your own mind and not in someone else’s. I have often wondered if the most powerful words I wrote that night came not from anger or rage but from doubt; I don’t know. I just don’t know.Not knowing for certain, but refusing to give way to those who claim certainty was a privilege I had never allowed myself. My life was narrated for me by others. Their voices were forceful, emphatic, absolute. It had never occurred to me that my voice might be as strong as theirs.
This book is 4 stars for me and I definitely recommend nonetheless I link Lwile’s review of the book which I absolutely loved and understand her rating of the book at 1 and 1/2 stars https://lwiletheleo.com/2023/02/13/educated-by-tara-westover/. I hope you get to see that whether it is in praise or otherwise, we both talk about the book and on that basis hope that you too pick it up to see the nuances and the drive of our rating of the book.
We began the year in England around the 1850s when there was a cholera outbreak and several people died. Shortly in this period, Prince Albert succumbed to typhoid. Fallen Grace took us to low-income England where survival was a struggle and those who could not afford shelter went to workhouses. This is the first fiction book I have encountered with a very detailed bibliography mostly because of its historical bit. It assured me that my academic writing skills will still be of use in leisure writing. A friend of mine read this book in French and I would like to have that experience. Since I do not mind re-reading this book I might as well.
Next, we wandered off to Australia. The good sister was a psychological thriller that scattered my cognitive capacity. It was an absolute mind fuck and reminded me of Collen Hoover’s Verity. Mid-year Queenie took me back to the UK. I liked how different this book was. In total, I managed to read 30 books and If I keep up this writing style, the prose will be longer. What was different in my 2022 reading was that I only read the books I liked given that my book club took an indefinite break. Before the break, Our January read was memoirs of a porcupine which I struggled with. I did like the discussion we had about the book and the realization that there was much I had failed to appreciate when reading it.
There was a higher rate of re-reading in 2022 because much as I wanted to read, I wanted authors I am familiar with and books I knew would deliver. I read untamed by Glennon Doyle and let be a woman by Elisabeth Eliott twice. Untamed is my go-to for that push and I have accepted that I will keep going back to it. Morning Noon and Night and The Stars shine Down were my Sidney Sheldon’s re-read for the year. I also re-read The Mothers by Brit Bennet and still on the high of the good writing, I picked up the Vanishing Half by the same author.
I had several notable reads featured in my blog posts throughout the year. Recursion by Blake Crouch which never got mentioned was one of them. He is always my go-to author for good science fiction. I still think Dark Matter by him rates higher maybe because it is what introduced me to him. He is also the only author I follow on social media as I try to understand how he comes up with such stories that trip our reality. Reading his books also makes me appear smart because of the quantum physics picked in the pages. Let me plug in a series called good behavior based on his works. The script and the characters Letty and Javier are it for me.
Colleen Hoover also made a comeback in 2022 with Reminders of Him which I absolutely loved. I have been wary of reading It starts with us because I did not want it to ruin it ends with us. Then, I did not wish to know Atlas’ story but after reading the blurb now, I am certain I will pick it up to usher in February.
In between the year, there were books that were just there for me. I read the Sex Lives of African Women by Nana Darkoa because there was a play based on it and all the notable women in the theatre and arts industry had roles in it which made tickets go for 5000KES. My thoughts were that Girl Woman Other by Bernardine Evaristo was better at exploring that theme much as it was not centered on African women. Considering at the start it is quite a difficult read with the lack of punctuation and several characters being introduced, it is a gift that keeps on giving for the readers who stay put.
I read the golden couple by Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekannen as part of my research on whether I should give therapy a try. The book is about a couple who go for therapy. I did see the perks from the book but mostly came out with the idea that 10 sessions are enough. Tell me lies by Carola Lovering was quite relatable. the story not so much but I often drop the title conveniently in situations I believe a significant or not-so-significant other is pulling my leg. The book cover was also among the best for the books I read in 2022. I got this recommended by the bad on paper podcast I listen to.
I wanted to write a review of this book when it was still fresh in my mind but I somehow talked myself out of it. This book will trigger you. well not the whole of it, parts of it. You have either been a Lucy or you know a Lucy. Someone summed it up on google reads as follows and I think this is the best depiction.
Tell me lies is about that one person who still haunts you – the other one. the wrong one. the one you couldn’t let go of. The one you will never forget.
There are three sets of parents; those who are so in love with each other that their children are inconsequential, those who are still together because of their children and lastly those who do their role as partners and parents. The most fun we ever had by Claire Lambard is centered on Marilyn and David, (the first set of parents) and their four daughters. Wendy’s acquired sense of humor, her relationship that is full of love and not so typical. Violet’s perfect family that is not so perfect. Liza finding herself pregnant with a baby she is not sure she wants by a man she is not sure she loves. Grace who has that best friend who can be a boyfriend. Each of the relationships in this book is very close to reality. This was also the longest read of the year with 621 pages.
The following books had covers that I think were in line with the plot: Fallen Grace, Reckless Girls, Born a Crime, Memoirs of a Porcupine, Cilka’s Journey, A man called Ove, Queenie and Tell me Lies. I liked the cover of the Most Fun We Ever Had and Such a Fun Age.
Books in 2022 were what I needed them to be at the time of reading. I hope to discover more books in 2023, revisit some authors from the past and read more of their work. My book-related goal in 2023 is to be more active on Goodreads.
My trips to Mombasa are always nostalgic. I grew up there as a young girl and it is the small joys that mattered. Then I only cared about who battered my bread and I had no free will of my own. I have gone back twice in my adult age and each of the trips back has been one of a kind.
The past month I have been busy traveling every weekend but somehow none of those journeys gave me the urge to be documented here. My visit to Coast was prompted by the need to reconnect with my roots. I hope that visiting the child in me by being with my childhood friends and reveling in the past would awaken and bring clarity to my future. It is the food and friends for me.
I thought I would finally get to board the SGR but turns out there was a memo that we should leave Nairobi for Mombasa to celebrate the long weekend. The train was fully booked and the connection I was assured normally gets you a seat onboard at a fee could do nothing for me.
I like it when I am determined because that is when I move heaven and earth. Flight prices were crazy but if push came to shove, they were not off the table. Since my journey was a trip back memory lane, it would meet the purpose if I used a bus like we used to. With the night curfew extended for 30 more days, most car companies have suspended night travel. I did get a bus, one of the oldies.
The arrangement was that the bus leaves Nairobi at 6.00pm but when curfew kicks in at 10.00pm we would have to park and resume our journey at 4.00am when it’s lifted. No difference with the SGR that arrives at 3.00am but passengers check out at 4.00am. The bus did not leave at 6:00pm but lucky enough, they kept driving through the 10pm curfew.
This was an October 2021 draft that I remember writing on my way back from my Mombasa trip. I really had a good time. I spent the long weekend eating from all my friends’ favourite spots. When the two of them differed we tried each of the places they liked and we decided which of the two was better. I am nostalgic thinking about this trip. I absolutely enjoyed how relaxing it was and the richness of the culinary experience.
Coast has to be a yearly destination. This year I went to Diani with a group of acquaintances. I had doubts about how the 4 night-long holiday will pun out. Remember our consensus in Bird Summons, also my hope of finally boarding the SGR did not materialize but I am convinced that road travel especially self drive is where the joy is at. There was some disorganization and I considered counting my loss on the deposit payment. I then told myself, I traveled to Tanzania with complete strangers when I was 19 and that went well. I traveled for the weekend to Sagana with another set of complete strangers and much as their company was a menace, I found joy in the little things and enjoyed reading a book I had carried with me. In short, I convinced myself that I would have a good time at least this time I had traveled with the group for a weekend in Eldoret sometime in the year.
The disorganization continued during the trip and I had to breathe through those moments. Despite everything, I enjoyed myself and I would have a repeat experience. If we get one or two things changed the trip would be top-notch. At the moment I fail to agree on which two. I would also have loved to have the time to visit my friends and repeat the culinary experience but no two trips are the same. My 2016 trip to Coast is dear to my heart because I was on that with my dad and I made memorable experiences with the people staying in the rooms next to mine. This is why a trip to the Coast has to be yearly, such rich experiences.
I enjoyed building this sand village. I started out and with the help of two, we made something.
I risked my hair for this shot. I took a lot of risks on this day. After several failed plans I decided to execute as many on my own. I woke up in the morning with resolve. I love how on this trip I was up early enough to watch the sunrise each day. The previous day I attended my first beach wedding and it was beautiful. Before that I had my first beach party roasting meat late in the night. It now sounds glamourous but that was an effect of bad planning.
I was at the beach as early as 8 am. I had envisioned quiet time, watching the waves, and joining a game of beach volleyball or football but I should have known these are more common in the evenings. I took a leap of faith and left my phone wrapped in my clothing and ventured into the ocean to ride the waves. A beach boy approached me and for some reason, I was unopposed to his company much as this was to be my quiet time; remember we had traveled as a group.
He took me to the Kongo river which was one of the failed plans. He guided me as I rode the waves ensuring I was swimming in danger-free zones at all times. The icing on the cake not only being the photos he took of me but without my asking, he offered to take me to the pool of Africa which was one of the failed plans that I had given up on. I enjoyed the company I found in the pool and swimming in it.
Image sourced from google, my camera did not have this clear shot
While journeying to the pool we found this abandoned hotel that would be a great business. I hope when I go back it would be reclaimed and brought back to the pristine state I believe it once was.
Everything about this trip worked for my good. I am now a step closer to fulfilling my Grown up dreams.
Monday evening after work, I had the pleasure of being part of an audience watching a screening of The Cleaners. It was primarily about content moderators who work for social media sites and the nature of their job. They sieve through content uploaded by social media users across the world and their task is to delete or ignore a post or photo or video that does not meet the particular social media community guidelines.
At first, I thought, such a cool job. I determine which posts stay uploaded and which ones are taken down. In retrospect, that job would be a menace! I do not spend that much time on social media and constantly seeing other people’s thoughts and engaging in other people’s content will not help me reach deep within and create. Also, I have days that I disengage so what will happen then. Probably why my solution to the toxicity of this job would be to have the content moderators work one day and take the next off. This will mean they get ample time to disengage from what they see on a daily.
There was a robust discussion following this screening that made me miss my school years. People with differing opinions on whether this particular job was toxic or not. It opened up to the root problem which is the content people upload on their phones. This reminded me of a recent tweet by Nkatha which raised a hullabaloo. I think she innocently tweeted about how an intern in their law firm was sent to run an errand within Nairobi CBD and the intern used an uber.
On first reading I got how that struck her as appalling. Back in the day when I started this blog, I was an intern and we covered most of the distance walking, if need be we would be given bus fare. I remember being given uber fare once but that was more an exception than the rule. In my reading of Nkatha’s tweet, I Imagined the place the intern was sent around the vicinity. Sides were taken, and the people who shared my line of thought confirmed that within the Nairobi Central Business District it would take one longer to use an uber than walk on foot.
The tweet did not reveal whether the intern was sent with documents that hindered their movement or made it more reasonable to use a car. I remember my colleague and I using the trolley guys to help us ferry the documents we had and they go so fast! Luckily my colleague would keep up with their pace and I would catch up with them.
this is what we used; image sourced from google
Nkatha was muddled with tweets stating how she is a toxic senior for posting that about her intern and they attributed all other evils to her. I imagined how distraught she must have been reading those spiteful comments from people who do not know her in person but went to the extent of looking up her workplace, school history and getting her image. To make it worse it continued the next day and it still comes up in reference to toxicity. Yaani on average 3 people interact with your tweet then one day as you are tweeting with just your audience of 3 in mind it blows up to the unforgiving Kenyans on Twitter (KOT) and that is your end.
I consider the following when determining a toxic work environment: 1. lack of boundaries when it comes to employee breaks 2. An understaffed department that over works employees instead of recruiting 3.How seniors in the team handle mistakes committed by juniors who are new in the team 4. General interaction amongst employees
I had an interview earlier this week and boy do I think I have grown since interviewing for my first job. I was more timid then thinking if a particular organization does not want me I will not find one that does. I thought not getting a call back after an interview reflected a lack on my part. Now I understand that interviews are two way, they get to see whether I fit in their organization and I get to determine whether I will conform to their organization or find one that already accomodates me.
I do recognize that having supportive parents allows me to have my basic needs met in the absence of a job. I have also known how much getting a job that I am constantly trying to conform to just to provide my basic needs is harmful in the long run. These effects may take a long while to dissipate if I notice before making them the new normal. Frankly, between healing my inner child and adding onto work related trauma I would rather handle the former and avoid the latter.
The content moderators in the film tried having their concerns addressed and they were reminded of their bad economic position and the supervisor without micing words said you signed a contract shut up and work. A man in the audience saw no wrong in that comment. He told us that there are no toxic jobs. The film creators set out to appeal to people’s emotions; from the background music selected, to constant potrayal of poor neighbourhoods insinuating that as the lives the moderators led. He boldly informed the audience that content moderators are well renumerated and they knew what they were getting themselves into.
The audience became charged from that comment and many hands shot up in a bid to bring the context closer home and explain to him how individual circumstances vary. Notwithstanding the content of the employment contract, some people’s troubles deprive them bargaining power and thus the law should create an even playing field for such disadvantaged people. Tech Bros in the room were cautioned not to create the world’s biggest problem while trying to make the biggest pay cheque from their innovations.
1. I am a born-again Christian 2. I enjoyed Tusker Oktoberfest 3. I had a rough night at Tusker Oktoberfest
I am a self-confessed lover of Concerts. Despite that, I still struggle to commit to attending mostly because I never have company. Maybe one day I will tire out and the idea of being out in the cold will put me off and the vibrant crowd will no longer appeal to me. Tusker Oktoberfest particularly appealed to me because of the hype my former colleague made about the 2019 one. He used to compare every concert to that and much as they had amazing performances he said they did not match up to it.
Of course, I wanted to know what I was missing out on. I decided to cut my Nyahururu trip short and convinced the only person I knew needed a nudge to say yes. I slept the entire journey back to Nairobi because my day was full of celebration and the previous night I only managed 4-hours of sleep. Fatigue was bound to catch up with me.
Tusker Oktoberfest had been advertised early in the month. The tickets were not only affordable but also redeemable. The lineup had Kenyan artists and you would find more than one you wanted to see perform. I wonder what I would have to say about the event if I managed to keep up with the 3-day festival. This was the Kenyan equivalent of the likes of Belgium’s Tomorrow land, America’s Coachella, Ghana’s afronation and Uganda’s nyege nyege. I hope Tusker’s Oktoberfest keeps up the trend.
You could tell there was a large crowd from the traffic on Ngong road and the subsequent surge in Uber charges for that destination. Ticket verification was somewhat organized but they had a difficult time due to the large numbers of semi-drunk people so they beefed up security. Despite having this map, we got lost plenty because we could not risk having our phones out lest one of the revelers with ulterior motivation enriches themselves. We resorted to asking official attendants for directions.
This event had so much to offer but our pockets were not deep enough. There were various food joints, body art painting, photo booths, majority of which I noticed from people’s stories. Our main focus was watching the artists perform and even when we could catch a break, we did not because we feared losing each other in the crowd or losing the cool spot we had found which was close enough to enjoy the performances and less crowded. Our intention was to maintain a sober front but the universe had other plans in store for us.
Concerts are where you discover or showcase your lyrical prowess. I was impressed by my mastery of Papa Jones’ lyrics. Mejja had a banger after banger. I was psyched for Nadia Mukami’s performance but she never sang any of her hit songs, or wait, a vague memory of me singing along to one of her songs is coming. This has to be the best part about concerts, the memory lapse and flashbacks throughout the week as you try decipher whether your mind is playing games on you or those events happened. I am fifty fifty on my take of the cringe worthy moments.
Arriving at the event venue was such a hustle. Those driving had to endure hours of bumper to bumper traffic. Uber passengers either opted to alight and walk or take a nduthi. Others were in full business mode disposessing people of their phones. It is in the later unfortunate scenario that one of my friends found herself. Things just went downhill from there, with no phone that means no ticket, no means of reaching the people you were to have a good time with, no means of hailing an uber for your return home and possibly no access to money as majority heavily rely on Mpesa.
Having her phone stolen was not the big issue mostly the helplessness she found herself in after her phone was gone. I admire her resilience in forging onwards with alternative ways to pay for another ticket with the hope that she will eventually find her people once she got in. Remember when I mentioned I had not bumped into my alliance French Movie dates in Lost illusions well that happened but my friend who needed to meet just one person she knew was not lucky enough. I was intrigued by how two people could be at the same place and have totally different experiences. Seems like my truth, your truth and the truth are all truths depending on how you look at it.
I am a born again Christian, I know not how this saving grace to me he did impart nor how believing in his word wrought peace within my soul. But I know whom, I have believed and am pursuaded, that he is able, to keep that which I have committed and to him against that day. I know not when my Lord may come , I know not how or where, If I shall pass the vale of death or meet him in the air.
Today I get confirmed and commissioned by the Anglican Bishop of Nairobi Diocese. I should soon therafter partake in the Lord’s supper with the other believers. It has been 4 months of classes to understand my Christian faith and much as I am not your typical born again saved, I very much believe in the death and ressurection of Jesus Christ and Judgement day. This is what we had explained makes you a believer. Confessing this with your mouth and believing it in your heart makes you born again.
I know not how the spirit moves convincing men of sin, revealing Jesus through the word creating faith in him. Well, as a believer I should also aton my sins and have the desire to live a new life in Christ. This new life entails renouncing all evil, holding first my christian faith, obeing God’s will and commandments and serving him faithfully all the days of my life. Its been a heated debate in my classes on what evil entails. I already feel like questioning the belief makes one less of a believer. I am not one to follow things blindly and every step of the way I doubted if my catechist will forward my name alongside the other students. Much as this has come to pass, I know not what of good or ill may be reserved for me, of weary ways or golden days before his face I see.
Life for me is lived between reading and writing. I am never not reading anything. I do have books that I leave halfway ever since I embraced the fact that I am not obliged to finish every book I pick up. Lately, I have not been aligning with the writing styles or general plot of books. I have been to bookstores severally hoping something will catch my eye. Those that do and I screenshot that I will look up reviews on Google reads have not made that further step.
I journal and I have been doing that more frequently. I feel the urge to have my thoughts and feelings on paper. (This was the position when I started this draft but it has changed. Planning to revive my journalling in November)
I have not had a striking idea for a post but I have had striking notes that I would like to share. Snippets from conversations I have had, films I have watched, and phrases that made sense and had to be in writing. As usual, this draft was left pending and as I finish, I have been able to re-read a Sidney Sheldon book called the Stars Shine Down.
With Sidney Sheldon, I always know what I will get. A strong female character who is a mogul in a particular field that is usually male-dominated. There will be a love interest or two, descriptive writing about places, foods and luxury items and the joy of it all suspense. I wonder how he still manages to achieve that even for books I have already read.
With Stars Shine Down I knew the lady was into the building industry but the depths of the story were long forgotten. In the last 5 pages, I thought I had joined the dots but I was in for a beautiful surprise. The ladies in Sheldon’s books are always self-made. He has a way of making them fall for the Mafia gang leader. Now that I think of it, all these self-made business moguls in his books have friends in high places who have called shots for them. This coming week I will end the month re-reading Morning Noon and Night and get back to you on whether my general description of Sidney Sheldon stands. Nonetheless, he still is my first favorite author and I can now pinpoint the aspects of my life that he shaped with his writing.
Here goes my list of five phrases that withstood my overthinking:
1. You are on your way to where you are going I cannot remember how I came across this phrase but it sure did strike a chord. The path you currently are on is what will lead you to a destination. You can see from the onset that you do not like the destination but many stay on the same path hoping the destination changes. This is a reminder that if you want to change the destination you will have to change the path. You are on your way to where you are going.
2. Start how you want to proceed This feels similar to the first. I have now remembered the context in which I heard these first three phrases. This was from the speech given to the advocates who were admitted to the bar on 5th August 2022. It was in relation to practising as an advocate but I think it applies generally in every other aspect of daily life.
3. It never goes wrong; it starts wrong. Ever since I heard this phrase that is all I have been seeing. In everything going wrong, I go back to the start as I analyze how wrong it started.
4. It is okay for things to end. I was happy to learn that I was not the only one with this challenge. I was listening to the messy in-between podcast and Lydia KM was sharing how she has a hard time with relationships coming to an end. She feels like she did not make a right choice from the beginning or work hard enough to ensure it stands the test of time. For her failure was a reflection of her effort or lack thereof. I would like to enjoy the metamorphosis and not put pressure on things to become anything.
5. Kataa vitu zingine hadi zikukatae. These are the famous words of one of my friends which stuck with me the first time I heard her say them. The example I have hits home for Kenyans. Parents and relatives will always urge you to take on things you do not want or like especially jobs just so you have something to do. They cannot fathom you turning down an offer just because it isn’t something you want. We have tested this principle and it works. During the testing of your patience in the process just keep ku kataa those things hadi zikukatae.
Since my writing, I finished morning noon and night. This book challenges my generalisation of strong lead female characters that is Sidney Sheldon’s Style. The mastermind here was a man and the story revolved around a wealthy man who was stingy with his children. He could not even spare love and affection. One of the children outwits the others in wanting to inherit more but the culprit is stopped. We do see a successful fashion designer and learn a bit about that industry. There is also the rags-to-riches story of one of the children. I reread The Mothers by Brit Bennet in a day as I felt the urgent need to relieve the plot. The writing made me start on the Vanishing half also by Brit Bennet and I can safely say my reading mojo is back.
Looking forward to a balance of writing and reading in November. Until then, love and light.
My favourite place has to be between pages of books, experiencing art in any form be it orchestra, live band, play, or looking at art pieces. An experience that shifts my attention to the present. Things that make me one and fully immersed.
I write this post moments after stepping out into the chaotic world. For 2hrs 33 minutes my attention had been taken captive by a French film. While writing this I am taken back to the quiet room, not so quiet because we can hear the actors’ voices. Here I am reminded of the beauty that the French language is; very soothing. I feel like God’s favourite child because I can perceive art in another language. I easily fit in the English, French and my Native communities.
This is true to my air sign, duality. This evening I chose to be entertained in a dark room blocking everything else out of mind. I am never quick to rush out of the theatre; I always need a few minutes to gather myself. I am buying time to find the right words to describe what I have had the pleasure of experiencing. In there I have lived my wildest fantasy and ceased to exist. I was Julian writing critiques and praise. I was colerie rehearsing for plays and wondering whether we will pay enough to get applause from the crowd, and I was the director watching this beautiful script come to play. I had none of my worries.
Screenshot from AF
In the 15 minutes I was waiting for the film to start showing, I remembered my first time in that very room as an eager student who was in awe of the facility that Nairobi people had at their disposal. Finding French material was an uphill task but I devoted myself to it. I would ask my teacher to listen as I practiced reading aloud. I would speak French every opportunity I got to get the accent. I have been in this theatre numerous times, most times unaccompanied but I remember the few times an unlucky boy who had captured my attention would be forced to tag along and watch the films with me. I wonder if they look back with regret or sneak back to watch a film and remember how naive they were. I hope they have brought a girl or two. I thank the universe that we have not bumped into each other while in the company of other people or at all. So were they just coming for me. Maybe they are working to forget that part of their lives. I am sure though one of the humble beginnings, it is told with fond memories.
The best part of having someone accompany you is the slow stroll afterward. Talking about the art that spark joy in you and relieving the moment shared. It forms a bond that I can only liken to that of mother and child at birth. One that is soon to be broken by the severing of the umbilical cord which is when each of you parts to get on their way. I have considered bringing my new suitors to take part in the tradition but I guard it more fiercely. I do hope to find someone who enjoys the art scene and not one who will persevere in the name of sowing fruits.
Achieng Nyakoe pleasantly asked if she could sit next to me. Separated by my bag was a French couple and I loved picking bits of their conversation. Achieng and I talked about experiences. She does not need friendship to stand the test of time. She is grateful for the time the friendship lasted and feels that is a wholesome approach. I think attaining that is what each person strives to and I cannot help but wonder why relationships have an end? Why can’t we just morph our friendship from moths to caterpillars and butterflies; ever-present in different forms throughout the change.
We could not talk much because the film started. We were like programmed robots because immediately the title came on the screen we fell silent and not a word conveying the possibility of picking up the conversation later. Suffice it to say the film was captivating at best. After 2hrs and 33minutes it did need to end. Maybe this answers my previous concern on why good relationships have an end.
In the film Julian loved. He spent his fortunes entertaining, gambling, and partaking in worldly pleasures until he got in debt. Colerie was by his side at all times stopping people from pointing out the obvious even when he would drink himself silly and have himself in another woman’s arms. The film had subtle jokes one of them being there’s no friendship. Julian suffers and in the end one ponders is this my reality?
Maybe we should be happy in the moment without waiting for the promise of happy ever after. Maybe these best times are Julian’s and we play Collerie who is on standby and daring people not to point a finger at the obvious. At the risk of sounding folly, I would want to believe that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. In the spirit of kukataa vitu hadi zinikatae, I am refusing to have someone hold a place in my life if they are not deeply immersed in the arts. I want each of us to separately get lost and together find ourselves in it. I want to morph from moth, caterpillar and butterfly. I want us in concerts, plays, films, polo matches, art exhibitions and any full expression of self that we will lose ourselves and emerge new beings speaking art.
It is hard for me to tell what my readers like. I have life update posts, book reviews, edutainment-like posts and pretty much anything I feel inspired to write. Is it that you like what I like or you like what I write because they are both the same thing. I thought this post would not be for my typical readers then I wondered who my typical readers are. The demographics of those who have subscribed to be notified is completely different from that wordpress notifys me engage with my post. I will just keep writing what I like.
Yesterday I was with company and I was asked to make porridge. Apparently, the person had missed porridge and had no idea how to make. I like cooking and there are many things I learn by checking online recipes. I could think of several solutions my company had; had he tried following instructions on the porridge flour because it is always right there, maybe even goggle but he saw it fit to ask me to make it for him.
As I was stirring the paste I kept thinking that maybe he had tried making porridge but he lacked the patience required. Porridge tends to form balls of flour when left unattended. I hate drinking porridge that has those balls because I am forced to keep spitting them out or swallow depending on my relationship with the person who cooked. I stood over the pot diligently stirring while also giving it time to cook undisturbed. I could not help but feel sorry for girls my age who had no idea what is coming their way upon marriage. I do not have expertise on the subject but having lived with a man, I think I have a rough Idea which is better than theoretical knowledge.
I have not been privileged to attend weddings this far in the year. There is a wedding I attended sometime back and I enjoyed the sermon. The pastor intimated that man and woman are different. They were created differently and the two reason differently. Every single day I see these differences and what would be so obvious to me is not as obvious to my male company and vice versa. What cracked me up was the pastor’s statement to the newlyweds that when either of them gets frustrated because of these differences, they should try accommodate the other otherwise they should have married someone from their gender who will see things as they do.
Glennon Doyle thought that was not such a bad idea. She advocates for writing the truest, most beautiful story about your life you can imagine and then conjure up the courage to make real the imagined. In her imagining her truest life, she ended up in a partnership with a woman. Here is her monologue from her book untamed:
What I want to say is: What if I wasn’t born this way at all? What if I married Abby not just because I’m gay but because I’m smart? What if I did choose my sexuality and my marriage and they are simply the truest, wisest, most beautiful, most faithful, most divine decisions I’ve ever made in my entire life? What if I have come to see same-gender love as a really solid choice- just a brilliant idea?
At this point I feel like I have to tread carefully with what I write next. Just to bring clarity to my new readers and those who have been following the blog, I share lots of things that I come across even when I am still processing. I advocate for learning, un-learning and relearning. Maya Angelou says that we do our best until we know better then we do better.
I am inclined to think that those who opt to move in with their partners want to see these differences and decide whether they are willing to put up with the differences. There is a line of thought against doing that and I chose to reiterate Glennon Doyle when she advocates going with what is truest for you.
I must have talked about this book in a previous post Can we skip to the good part but having revisited the ideologies raised, I would advocate for you to read the book and form opinions of your own. I am excited as I wait for the hard copy that I am shipping as I believe I would want this book in my collection having read an e-copy.
I do not know what will prepare girls my age for the part of their lives they will share with their significant others. I cringe when I think of all the things I have had to learn, unlearn and re-learn and I do not know where to start sharing. I think their only hope will be to do their best until they know better and even while doing their best, I will completely advocate for not losing yourself in the process, here is another excerpt from Glennon’s book that I hope convinces you to get a copy for yourself.
…women who are best at this disappearing act earn the highest praise: she is so selfless.
Can you imagine? The epitome of womanhood is to lose one’s self completely.
I love myself now. Self-love means that I have a relationship with myself built on trust and loyalty. I trust myself to have my own back so my allegiance is to the voice within. I’ll abandon everyone else’s expectations of me before I’ll abandon myself. I’ll disappoint everyone else before I disappoint myself. I’ll forsake all others before I’ll forsake myself. Me and Myself we are till death do us part.
As I am at it, I will leave a screenshot of a post I came across that is in line with what Glennon says and may be what girls my age need to hear in addition to the above.
Choose yourself as you listen to the voice within.
Dimples Migraines and Aahs 