The title sounds so academic but it is the best I could come up with to cover the three things I would like to write about.
The weekend after valentine's, I watched a play titled an Ideal Husband by Igiza Arts Production. It is not the title of the play that drove me to buy the ticket, neither is it the producers of the play, but knowing that it is an adaptation from Oscar Wilde and trusting the capability of the Producers and the director who is well known to me, I knew I had to have a ticket. I considered reading the book before watching the play but my hands were full as I had 3 other books that I needed to finish within the month, I ended up watching the play having not read the book and I was thoroughly entertained.
Of the three books I was reading, I managed to finish Lucky Girl by Irene Muchemi. I loved the pace of the book, the coming to age storyline, the experiences Soila had being born and bred in Kenya and getting an opportunity to study in the USA. I bet my Kenyan friends with similar fates would relate to her experiences, if only I can get them to read the book. I am having trouble freely addressing my reservation about the book, mostly because I already know the critic that would come from it. At this juncture in my writing, I cannot ruffle feathers and much as it bothered me while reading the book, it did not prevent me from enjoying the author's work, her first.
There is much I am dying to talk about but I feel gagged because I would spoil it for those who intend to read, which I think you should. Was Soila really Lucky? How has our Kenyan upbringing affected our values as adults and the choices we make? The African setting of having family around and their approval and how growing up detached from one side of the family impacts our lives. The position of 'the second family' and how one choses whether or not to relate with them. The choice of a partner and how much family approval should weigh in on that choice. How can we create a family from two individuals with glaring differences in their beliefs, and culture?
I was having a conversation with one of my girlfriends about the last question and she strongly believes that two people cannot walk together unless they are in agreement. Her position is hinged on Amos 3:3 and 2nd Corinthians 6:14 which says "Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?" I shall leave it at that as this is a conversation that requires more depth.
My book club read for the month was Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden. I really struggled with this one. I had tried reading it before and it proved difficult even then. My book club members encouraged me to just start page one and I was happy to have reached page 190. The tea parties were too many for me and the process for each was similar, she gets an invitation, she dresses up, we learn about the guests present and the conversations they have, and then there is the next tea party or even up to three in a day and then we repeat, or have breaks when she is learning.
There is a lot of plotting by the characters. I thought office politics is where it is at but I could sure learn a thing or two from the Geishas'. The discussion about the book sure did heighten our perception. Going in, only two members had been thrilled by it but through the discussions, we realized there was more depth to the book and the characters and indeed there was much to love. It was my first seating where I had not finished a book, I did not mind the spoilers and I feel that I would have been satisfied if I had read it all the way to the end.
The writing style is highly descriptive, the people who help Sayuri along the way each have something they are getting. We see how naivety affects our choices and how unfortunate being constantly exposed to schemers develops you into a schemer. We loved it when a character finally learnt how to play the game. We loved it when a poorly written character still had a role to play, we loved discussing the long game and grappled answering if the best thing and worst thing that happened to a character was an encounter they had. Sayuri's humor is really a plus for the book.
We never got to discuss our beliefs in consulting an almanac to know auspicious days. From the book it seemed that our actions or inactions although inconsequential at first glance affect our destinies. I will leave you with the book club read I selected for our March read, The Mothers by Brit Bennet which I have now read twice and written as much about it in my posts. By now you are in agreement that literature is how best I could title this post.
Travelling like any other activity can be good or great depending on the company. I believe the traveler must first be at peace within and a happy traveler can radiate this to others or be better placed to cope with unpleasant company.
My 2nd last trip of the year, was a return to the Coastal region with a group I met early this year. Our maiden trip to Watamu went well. We had no qualms within the group, entertainment decision making was a challenge but we agreed on the main things such as the meals we were to have, daily routine and monetary contributions.
We opened the trip invitation to friends and the planning process began. We had myriads of options to choose from. It was hard narrowing down and even harder getting everyone to settle on one pick. Like most planned trips, it was never to leave the WhatsApp group save for the three of us.
Transportation of the planned trip went amiss. The first hotel we booked did not deliver and luckily we had just booked for 2 nights and said we could pay up once we settled. We then moved to an Airbnb for a night and brought our reservation to a resort far out of town up by a day.
At first, other than the views, and meals the resort did not meet our expectations. It was far flung from the night life spots we planned to visit. Having started our vacation as a food tour, we were limited in visiting places on our list but the resort compensated for this in the variety of food options. We were happy being waited on, wined and dined but we were yet to acclimatize to the new order of business. We were resistant and felt our freedom had been curtailed.
The more we took the place in the more activities we found to occupy ourselves and leaving our cocoon resort was fought with resistance. Well, at first we looked forward to it but the travel logistics were a hard pass. The drivers were demanding high prices because they knew their clientele were people on vacation. We tried reasoning with them, but their greed for money surpassed everything else. We eventually gave up and decided to make the best of our stay within the resort.
While at the resort, whatever group you observed, a lady was present. There were ladies on a girls trip, mother's with their children, families, couples, or an assortment of friends. We happened to hear a couple fighting as we were checking out and we wondered what about the trip upset them that they raised their voices at each other in reckless abandon. We made friends during the trip, we people watched during meals.
My packing for the trip greatly improved from my Zanzibar trip. I attained both functionality and aesthetic. I had options for dressing up events despite them not being in the itinerary and chill clothes for the evening. I also packed going out clothes but for 4 nights and my company surprised me by wanting to go out every other night, I was a bit happy with the few botched night out plans but as we progressed to the nights I had planned for and now could not go out due to circumstances, I wished I had gone when I had the chance.
With every trip I have new opinions, different experiences and I love each of the trips for their uniqueness. In this trip I learnt there were beaches along the Coast of Kenya that one could not swim in. The sand was coarse and the beach was full of corals.
In this trip I felt extorted by the locals. We were asked to pay exorbitant prices for the smallest of things. We wanted to walk on the beach and this would cost us because it was advisable we have a guide. The guide was to show us the path to use. I thought this was insanely ridiculous but at least this guide suggested we go with him then we would see his value. There were several animals and plants that we could not have identified without his help.
A sea cucumberCan you spot the sea worm?A pregnant starfish
A starfish
This beach despite not being conducive for swimming, I bet surfers would enjoy the waves.
I look forward to going back for a repeat of some of the activities. I would need to practise holding my breath longer in water so that I feed the fish beneath the glass bottle like our guide.
Much as I acknowledge the differences of each town, I believe all Coastal town lovers like myself should make a trip to Dar es salaam and Zanzibar. Nevertheless Mombasa will always have a special place in my heart.
If you know what the title to my post means, kudos. I am happy to have joined your lot this month and you clueless reader will be let in this knowledge too.
I am considering being one of those writers who reveal the meaning at the end so that I keep the curious minds reading until the last full stop. I would prefer a writer who stops the goose chase and let’s me decide whether I want more information on the subject matter then, I will keep reading. Fun Fact (ode to my watching young Sheldon) Zanzibar is just one among the Spice Island Archipelago. Some of the Islands do not have human population. The tangent of this post is now towards a Geography class and believe me, this was not the intention. The historian in me just wanted to give a bit of background information.
I was determined to plan this trip for my family. I did research on the activities we would engage in but my major challenge was how we would get around to the various places and where we would stay. I like planning with the geography of the place in mind so that the locations I settle for do not become an inconvenience. I would also focus on a specific part and exhaust the locality so that my next visit becomes slightly different from the first. My family mostly enjoy historical sites tours and game drives and this being a coastal town, It made sense why the target market is mostly honey moons and girls trips. To say the least I had a daunting task ahead. Being in charge of people’s enjoyment can go either way; success or failure.
On second thought, I think one’s taste in travelling cannot and should not be singled out as beach versus park. Of course there are outliers who are sticklers and conform to either of the two categories but packing my family in a box like that is far from truth. We mostly travel around this time of the year and we enjoy new town visits, beaches and game parks. All one needs to enjoy any trip is the travel spirit which includes: openness to change of plans, tolerance to each other, the ability to find joy amidst the challenges and being an active participant.
In this trip, My aunt, a geographer lent me her atlas so that I was well equipped for the task at hand. Her request was that I consider geographical areas and use the most scenic route. I did my research for about 2 months and had a conclusive list then one morning I woke up and saw a travel and tours group advertise our intended destination with the identified sites featured on their list and I was sold. The planning would be another’s headache and I would fully enjoy the trip. Their planning left a lot to be desired and although thanks to them we know better, I would recommend planning the trip yourself. I am assuming from the picture the destination is now obvious.
We travelled by road and Ferry. On our return trip the seas were rough and several people got sea sick. The attendants handed out sick bags so the sight was not messy and they took good care of the affected people.
Zanzibar is beautiful. The seas are turquoise blue, the people are friendly, and the sun is not too hot. The streets in town are corridor-like, allowing the breeze to penetrate. The market is well structured and protected from the sun. During the spice farm tour, we encountered a persuasive trader whose skills could be compared to the bus hawkers in Kenya. They explain products in such a way that even if it wasn’t on your budget, you find yourself prioritizing it as a necessity and allocating money for it.
For a first tour visiting places like Prison Island, Stone Town, Spice farm are worthy but for a return visit the itinerary would be very different. The hotels were affordable and if you plan for yourself you can choose even better accommodation. Hotel meals live you nothing to write home about because the meals are made to be good and enjoyable. We were intrigued by their fruit juices especially one that we guessed was an assortment of fruits because of its sweet and sour taste only to learn that the fruit is called bungo. I would definitely recommend a glass of bungo juice. It is also sold at Stone Town Market.
This trip was mostly relaxed. We did not have super early mornings chasing after wild life or tired evenings after long hikes. We mostly went to a historical site each morning and spent our afternoons at the beach or in boat rides to the various Islands and ended our evenings passing forodhani market for their array of foods. While at Forodhani I will recommend all sweet tooths to try the ice cream roll. Its one of a kind and I would go back just for another plate of that.
Writing this trip feels me with so much nostalgia. Whenever I come home from a trip I always feel the need to go for another to recover from the previous trip but with this one, I was content. I came back home happy, relaxed, feeling well rested and grateful for the experience yet looking forward to a return. During this trip we bonded as a family and of course the individual personal traits came up truly, wherever you go; there you are and we got to know ourselves and each other better.
I would also advise that when traveling, ensure you have medical insurance. For sure getting sick is not part of the plan but accidents do happen and you would not want to deplete your travel budget funding medical bills. Alternatively, carry an extra amount for emergencies.
My other take home from this trip was to improve my packing. My attires were in line with the itinerary but we had some unplanned activities cropping up and I needed outfits for that. I have since then been watching different you tube videos of people packing for their trip and luckily, I will soon get to judge whether I have improved on this skill.
For your patience dear reader, Zenj bar is Arabic for land of the blacks. Our guide mentioned something about it also signifying the good weather in Zanzibar. The history about Stone town is rich and fascinating and there you will hear more about the famous swahili doors that I got to carry back home as fridge magnets. I hope I have made you consider Zanzibar as one of your travel destinations.
I would first like to express my gratitude to my 98 subscribers who saw my writing fit enough to opt to receive notifications each month that I have a new post. I mostly write because you mostly read. Starting out this blog 5 years ago, I had no idea how it would pan out but so far, I am immensely proud of my consistency in putting out content, the bravery that comes with bearing my heart out and the satisfaction that comes with reading my content. I do have notable subscribers who never shy from sharing their 2 cents and hitting the like button; Thank You!!! I literally am because you are. Your likes, comments, and views keep me going. (You would think I got nominated for an award; let us just carry on with that thought). Here is to 5 years 🥂🍾✨💫
My blog anniversary is co-shared with my brother’s birthday. Days to the 13th of August I think of him. A day to the 13th August I remember my blog and swell with pride. I would mention this as my biggest achievement in a job interview but who wants the follow-up question that would be to share my handle. Starting out, my goal was to have content and consistency but I never knew that I would keep that up for 5 consecutive years.
I still want my by-line. Apparently, the want is not bad enough as my senses have not taken leave. A day after the blog’s anniversary I received the below email which made me shed a tear.
I had come across an advertisement for a writing position and I shared the link to the blog as samples of my work. I thought my style of sharing my work showed a lack of effort on my part and I should have shared stand-alone posts. As always I forgot the job application and went on with my life.
I always wonder what would happen when I get a writing gig. Would that be the end of dimples migraines and aahs? After due diligence on this offer, I realized this was not the breakthrough that would fast-track my writing career. I was disappointed but quickly got out of my misery when I discerned that I have always been doing what I love which is writing way before anyone would give me their platform. On a work team building last weekend, I described my work in the company as reading and writing. I thought I had belittled my role as everyone’s description had gist which made mine lacklustre. I wondered why the vocabulary I had amassed over the years of reading was not self-evident. This week I grasped that there was no better description of what I do and realised that I do what I love daily.
What next for Dimples Migraines and Aahs? I would like to change the layout of the page and utilize the full potential of WordPress. I keep saying this and I want to commit. I want to write more, write better. I want to look back as I do now and be amazed. I want to proudly show off the work of my brain and not fear another’s judgement or perception of me because of it.
5 whole years!! I have not kept anything this long other than friendships. Yes 5, I did that, and still doing it.
Welcome new follower
I enlisted the services of chatGPT on what to write when my mind hit day 30 being blank. None of the suggestions appealed to me. I want to clean up the drafts that no longer make sense. They could not salvage the situation now and I do not think they will in the future.
I paused leisure reading in August, exam season was upon me #Adult Education. The exams were the norm, and my sentiments from Qué sera sera remain unchanged. I embark on this month’s book club Dark Matter over the weekend and I look forward to rereading the book and having a different perspective or the same from the first time.
2023 so far has been blessed. I am hitting an all-time high in the number of trips to the Kenyan Coast. This weekend I will visit Mv Logos Hope, a ship that is a moving library. The last ship of this kind was at the Kenyan Coast 18 years ago and I remember going every evening after school. My mum bought me a pictured Bible story which I loved and a book called The Singing Bear. It was the first novel I had and I dare say the visits to the Library and the two books fuelled my reading passion. Then I also cultivated my desire to travel the world by ship. I was impressed by the fact that this ship which is self-contained, a moving library, with staff of different nationalities, fully funded and operated by volunteers gets to dock in different ports every other 45 days.
I have been tracing more of my habits to my childhood. I am still learning, unlearning and re-learning. I generally sleep well, I eat too much fries and drink too much soda. I love, I am loved. I am struggling with better managing my finances. I value my friendships, family and relationships generally.
Today, I grieve for one of my closest friends who is laying her mum to rest tomorrow. My heart pains for her loss and every other loss any of my friends have had to endure in their lifetime. I feel like death robs us. It robs us of time with our loved ones. It robs us of the people we would have been had we not gone through the pain of loss. It robs us of smiles and living carefree because at the back of our minds, we know that joy and laughter can be replaced with tears and sadness in no time. I particularly grieve for each and every friend of mine who has lost a parent. I know the loss of a loved one but that of a parent is unknown to me. It hurts that there are no words that can be said to relieve them of their pain. It hurts that they will not have their lost parent to share their success and life journey with.
I hate pain, I hate loss, I hate grief. I hate that it lingers, I hate that once you know it you cannot unknow it. I hate that even though you know it you do not completely understand anyone else’s. If only each person could have the blessing of living without knowing grief, that is the wish I would ask my genie for.
Of course the tangent this writing has taken is not what I planned but it is the truest I could write on day 31 now pressed with time and on the verge of losing a 5-year streak. Phew! this was really close. May the writing Gods continuously favour me.
Palm trees, humid weather, sandy beaches, salty water, ocean blue meeting blue skies, relaxation, rejuvenation, slowing down, breathing, healing, feeling, and living all are the attributes of the Kenyan Coast.
This was a girls’ trip with colleagues. Once after having Biriani at a Swahili restaurant, one of the girls mentioned that she had never been to Coast. I mentioned that I had never been to wild waters despite having lived in Coast another mentioned that she needs a good crowd that would not be going to Coast just to drink. It was at that moment that we decided to vacation at the Coast for the weekend.
During this visit, I was able to cross several items off my bucket list. The trip was a mix of savoring coastal food and doing things for the first time whilst being the group tour guide.
Wild waters is a water park if I may borrow what Tanzania calls their Kunduchi park which is similar. It has several slides for both kids and adults. There is even one for ‘couples’. Going down the slides is thrilling. One picks up momentum and as you get to the water, you slightly float through the surface. Despite the climb involved before you get to the slide, we found ourselves going back several times. Each of the slides is different. There is a dark tunnel, there are some you go in with floaters others without. There was also a whirlpool which is opened for an hour from 4.00pm. We left wild waters hungry and lucky for us the next activity was sampling Coastal food at Mama Ngina drive before heading to Diani.
The slides at Wild Waters
Shawarma at Mama Ngina Drive
Needless to say, each of us had different personalities. One was lackluster. Yes, we are on vacation but considering the limited time we had, a sense of urgency would take us a long way. This trait almost made us miss our bus after the stop in Mtito Andei. I was torn between team spirit and looking out for my own interest which was ensuring I got my money’s worth. I decided to go talk the driver into giving her a few minutes but if this proved adamant, hopping and veering off with the rest of the passengers was an option.
Another was constantly planning, ready to disregard a place or thing because of one or two things going awry. No sooner had we savored a moment than she started anticipating the next. I wanted to shut her up and keep off because why was she such a party pooper. The last one was not any better, brooding and giving curt remarks even though everyone’s patience was tried.
I remember our host asking if she would sulk the entire evening because the waiters had forgotten her order and she had been waiting for a whole hour angry and hungry. She expressed her displeasure in the services including urging us to go to another establishment. Miss constantly planning had in this instance demanded to see the chef after returning her plate of fries and chicken because the quantity was too small and the next time she was served a part of chicken she did not fancy.
Each girl had separately at some point during the weekend vacation come to the conclusion that in no circumstance should the others be considered as travel partners. This was another validation of the book Bird Summons by Leila Aboulela. Speaking of books, the first book club meeting took place and I recommended Dark Matter by Blake Crouch as our August book of the month. I am Looking forward to hearing the thoughts of other book club members on it.
In this trip, I finally boarded the SGR from Mombasa to Nairobi. On reaching the Nairobi terminus, I took the commuter train to the CBD. I appreciated the cost-effectiveness of the transport system and the transition was very smooth.
My view from the Mombasa Terminus Waiting Lounge
This trip made its memorable mark and despite our differences, we made it safely back home each with a head full of hair. I loved that we discussed our shortcomings on our train back and that we never allowed them to hinder us from having the time of our lives. More than ever I am convinced that a trip to the Coast will forever be my vitamin sea and this prescription must be taken yearly if not thrice a year.
I am convinced age makes one a better student. Either that or the point our parents and teachers used to make that our success in the education realm is for our benefit is finally home. My lecturers in university would be proud of the student I have become. One who raises their hand to contribute to the class discussion. One who willingly gives points and examples that enhance learning. I still struggle to be attentive for a long span of time and I maintained the habit of reading recommended texts before class and revising my notes after.
In one particular class, a lecturer had probably caught me not paying attention and he singled me out to answer an obvious question that was not related to the topic or probably was. My memory of that day is quite vague save for the fact that I played dumb and refused to answer much as he knew I know the answer I was to give. He then went after my closest friend in class who sat next to me. My friend in solidarity played dumb as well and the lecturer of course could not lose in his sole orchestrated power play. He probably made a humiliating comment about the two of us or kicked us out of class but in that moment and to date, I swell with pride knowing that my friend, my ride or die chose me.
I am never a last-minute student in fact if I have not grasped a concept during the delivery of the course material, that ship has sailed. I once tried burning the midnight oil the night before an exam and on the day of, I slept as soon as the exam paper landed on my desk. Much as I was full of knowledge, my hands and brain could not coordinate to put the ideas on paper. From then, I decided that my eight hours of sleep remain a constant come what may. Moreover, I think better and faster when I have had my full night’s rest and if my memory serves me right, I can come up with a convincing answer for the examiner.
Dosing off in class, church or meetings is top-tier sleep and I cannot be convinced otherwise
Mashkiz courtesy of LAC
I thrive in the classroom environment. I like listening and thus having someone explain something new with the interruptions of others contributing to the discussion is my cup of tea. I recently enrolled in a professional course in the evenings after work and when I am not as exhausted, I enjoy it. I thought online classes are it until I had the opportunity to attend a one-week professional training course. I got in before the class started eager to network and know who my classmates for the week would be. I was disappointed when the lecture room I entered had 2 other students who were seated far apart in pin-drop silence. The room began filling up but each person would take their seat and immediately take out their phone. I began wondering why the session was not online then at least I would attend from the comfort of my house.
The line between being strangers and friends is clearly thin. I cannot tell when the shift happened. I think it was during tea break and we bonded over the biting cold while imbibing the hot cup of tea or maybe it was soon after the lecturer made us introduce ourselves and we heard everyone’s expectations about the course with a few mentions of networking. Each day I looked forward to showing up, persevering through the cold mornings, sharing stories, and bonding during the 3 breaks we had.
Human beings really crave connection. It was evident when the session came to an end today and no one could bring themselves to leave. We were in small groups chatting and as we left the lecture room we found ourselves gathered again at the parking lot constantly saying goodbye, wishing each other well but mostly hoping that we had one more day to enjoy each other’s company before resuming our day-to-day routine.
Early today morning as we were waiting for the quorum to start the session, I joined an ongoing conversation about different books and authors with each person expressing their likes or dislikes and notable mentions. From the conversation, I have two book recommendations; the light we carry, and in every mirror she is black. We even decided to form a book club and the latter was agreed to be the starter book. This one-week experience made me realize how much online classes rob us of interaction. It has been two months of evening classes in my professional class, I am yet to make a friend. Luckily, the lady seated next to me in this one-week training is also taking the evening professional class, and this revelation came out during today’s morning tea break.
This is so far the best use of my company’s money. I am more knowledgeable, I am happy, I am challenged intellectually, I have heard about various employers, and my faith in mine is at an all-time high. I have interacted with a pool of professionals in various capacities and the knowledge exchanged during the 30-minute tea break would have cost me an insurmountable figure.
Last weekend while having lunch with my former University Lecturer and a classmate friend of mine, the lecturer was expressing his discontentment over teaching methods employed. We all agreed that classes where one simply reads the PowerPoint presentation are unbearable and that concentration span in online classes is barely existent. Packed classes where information is given at a faster rate than one can digest are also problematic. The right balance is a mixture of guiding PowerPoint presentation with room for class discussions that eventually lead to breaking into groups and having further discussions with assignments to confirm understanding of the concepts rather than for grading purposes.
It has been hard for me to attend classes both day and night. There is only so much attention one can pay. Dosing in class, church, and meetings is top-tier sleep and I cannot be convinced otherwise. In fact, people should pay to have such environments created for them to have the deep quality sleep they deserve. All in all adult education is demanding and I give a round of applause to all adults who are learning, multi-tasking, learning while working, learning when bringing up families, learning with all the various ands; You are the modern day superhero.
I have always wanted to address the challenges faced by females here but never knew how that would play out with my male audience. I would have preferred the confines of a woman’s magazine but having not been contacted for the junior writer position I applied for I have to work with what I have. The women’s magazine would be a safe space where women’s issues are the topic of the day and sharing our fears is inevitable. I just binged the real daytime and the need to address women’s issues was evoked. That coupled with reading blogs and books and finally hearing a story from a friend and I just had to take part in this conversation. I hope the male counterparts have not been turned off by this paragraph.
In a discussion in my living room with my male friends about sexual harassment, one of them suggested that if women took extra caution i.e just dress appropriately in a manner not to suggest anything, walk in places that are safe and at the appropriate time they would not have half of these sexual harassment cases. Maybe… I don’t know the probability of that but what I do know is that it is not about the dressing or the time and definitely not the place.
I have a friend who since I met had a rather unique way of dressing. Always long skirts or dresses, circular in shape with minimal barely existent skin contact. She would pair these with an equally chest-covering top but being well endowed on the upper body, there was little the tops could hide. I thought she had embraced the hippie culture or probably just wanted to be the unique person in the room because truth be told girls her age do not dress like that.
The me too movement enabled her to come out and share her shuttering life experience. What she went through growing up as a girl, a vagina owner. She did not deserve that and I know you already have a wild guess and yes.. unfortunately, she was a victim of being a vagina owner with male relatives. There is literally no excuse or she could have done this at the age of seven. My male friend in the discussion we had tabled this category as an outlier. He did not know that for most women indecent acts, sexual harassment starts from a young age and just continues in other forms that are considered harmless such as catcalling or groping.
I have heard of women who cannot use public transport if the passengers in the particular vehicle are only males. Other women like my friend have resolved to wear only long dresses and skirts and keep off any makeup whatsoever just so to reduce the chances. A case in the newspapers reported a girl, a university student who while doing laundry in her house, a bedsitter and left the door open as she took pegs to hang her laundry had her room locked by 3 men in that span of a moment and raped by all three of them, another outlier?
So many cases are unreported. Very few people are made accountable. Unfortunately without proper evidence, there is not much that can be done; indecent acts go unpunished. Lisa Taddeo in her book Three Women tells the story of a girl, Maggie whose teacher committed indecent acts on her. The case was reported years later and determined by a Court in North Dakota in the United States. The teacher continues to teach, and obtains teacher of the Year award while the girl whose allegations were deemed false continues to live a damaged life.
It sickens me that these things happen to anyone anywhere for just being a vagina owner. It does not matter what you do, or not do vagina owners are just not safe. We have beseeched the other species to think of their sisters, their mothers, and their female friends because if they do not check a brother who does this to another, the next person will be that female you care about. As if it is not enough that the perpetrator himself came from a vagina owner.
I had this written in July 2020 but lacked the courage to post it. Since then I have handled a case where I had to defend a man accused of defiling his stepchild and it really tore my heart apart. I remember reading the witness statement of the victim and her sister and I cried the entire afternoon mourning the loss that the children were occasioned at such a young age. Come morning I wiped my tears and was ready to represent the accused to the best of my ability even casting doubt on the victim’s statement if need be. Luckily, the accused did not show up in Court and I only presented an argument that his bail should not be revoked and that the Court should set another hearing date. I knew I would not be able to go through the same ordeal again so I told my boss I was not comfortable handling the matter.
I remember previously I happened to side with a victim too soon and it turned out the incident was made up and the accused who was found guilty by the Court based on the evidence presented was actually framed. There was a documentary on TV about a girl who came clean 24 years later after the youthfulness of the detained man could not be returned to him much less his lost reputation. My girlfriends and I tried debating on whether when in this catch 22 it is better to have believed the victim and have to apologize to the accused than to cast doubt on someone’s truth and let them live the rest of their lives knowing their voice was not heard when they cried for help and that the society turned its back on them.
Today I had a similar debate on what it means when a man spends their money on ladies. My male friend argues that there is no free thing and what the lady considers gifts are but an investment by the man in lowering the girl’s guard. My male friend went ahead to say that girls should stop playing oblivious when the same men want to cash on their return on investment. I strongly advocate for men being forward with their intention and ensuring all parties are on the same page as to the nature and the intention of ‘acts of kindness’. We rested our case concluding that kudos to the men who come forward with their intentions, and for those who play this long baiting game, there will be victims and unfortunately, it can be either party. the man losing the girl he has been ‘baiting’ to a more forthcoming adversary or the ‘oblivious’ lady having to pay a price she did not know was set on her.
I hope there is a world where vagina owners are safe. I hope I get to see this world in my lifetime. I hope there is a world where men are forthcoming with their intentions. I wish everything was not transactional more so when it comes to the opposite gender. I hope that we can do more than just wish.
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.
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.
Dimples Migraines and Aahs 