Tag: adulting

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Travel in Books 2023

I finally got something to unbox this 26th, a book that would have me flipping pages, engrossed till the very last page. I was home, wondering what I could get my hands on. I flipped through the notes on my phone and settled on the one titled books to read. I was surprised it had only one book, The Other Year by Rea Frey. An author I had not heard of before, no reason as to why I should read the book and whether it would be in tune with the holiday mood I was in search of. Without looking the book up on good reads, I quickly downloaded and finished the first 100 pages in an hour thirty minutes.

Sometimes life changes in a single moment this is the quote written on the bottom of the front page cover. I can point singular moments that have changed my life. I wonder if the singular moments did not happen or if I made different choices in the singular moments whether I would end up in the place that I am. Rea asks us to ponder whether we end up where we are supposed to no matter what or if grief sends us on a different path completely. I like that she specifically asks about grief. For a long time I have believed, heck I still believe that If my siblings were with us today, my family would have taken a different trajectory. Rea makes me think that might not be the case and we would still end up where we are.

The Other Year is dedicated to Rea’s daughter in every life. I found this amusing, that she too believes in the multiverse and that in every version of reality she still chooses to dedicate this book to her daughter. I was also impressed that she starts by telling us how she was vehemently anti-kids for most of her life and that she wrote a column called My daughter the A**hole when her daughter was young. I recognize kids for who they are, adorable at times with the potential of turning into monsters every other time. Every parent’s prayer is that their kid turns out well equipped for this life and most importantly that this prayer is answered. I pray for that too, now and even more when I become a parent.

Rea warned us that the book will take a hard look at grief and for sure the first 100 pages do. I kept wondering why do I torture myself reading of a pain I know too well. Her quote that life is not always about the good stuff reminded me of my description of migraines in this blog ‘sunshine everyday makes a desert’. True to her word, the plenty of light and joy and fun and romance in the book is covered in equal measure.

There are three men in Kate’s life: First, the male best friend who has been around for everything life has thrown at her; second, the ex boy friend whom she saw a future with and intentions to build a family with but has shortcomings that she grapples with whether to suck it up or continue with her search for more and last, the new stranger whom she is getting to know, and who holds a candlelight with a promise of more, something new, but just like a candle, this light could flicker.

I like the style of the book, how Rea writes about two realities back to back. The message that children are their own unique person and never an extension of either parent. A parent’s role which is one I hope to remember is to help them grow but release them. Let them live and then be there if they need you along the way. I hear myself already losing this battle every time I describe the ways I would like to mold my girls. I am already strongly possessive and I know I will have to put in a lot of work to let them live.

I have loved how Rea has brought out each of the male characters. She says she drew inspiration from her husband. I strongly believe that Rea and her husband started out as Michael and Kate only that Rea’s husband made a different choice than the one Michael in the book makes. I currently believe that he is more of a Jason, steady and present. The book builds us up to wonder who Kate will choose and if the choice will be different in the two versions of reality portrayed. Suffice to say, I love the ending in both versions and this would be a good holiday read. It reminds you of the importance of family, the need to put yourself first and it is a good distraction from everything going on good or bad.

This year I have not read much and I know I already wrote about what I have been reading in multiple posts throughout the year. We had Secret Santa in my bookclub, I wanted to gift City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert but the bookshop only had a hardcover version available. The book I was looking forward to reading since it came out is the Lucky Girl by Irene Muchemi and I am a few pages in. I was gifted the invisible life of Adie Larue which I would have carried with me but I did not want to have more luggage than I needed. Reading e-books has completely spoilt me but I hold dear the few hard copy books I own.

2023 cannot end before I plug We Need New Names. I completely loved how simple this book was and it is easily among the best book gifts I have given this year. The story took me to my childhood and I agree with the author, the characters do need new names. I am looking to add this book to my collection and I still feel sad that my recommender of books left the office towards the end of the year. We had a good year discussing books and I will miss that.

I am happy that I got to form a new book club in 2023 and I am already in awe of the literary world experiences coming our way. In every mirror she is black which was our first read has a sequel and I will be digging that in 2024. I still have not got a hold of the 30th Candle by Angela Makholwa, I will appreciate any leads as to where I can get this book. 2023 is a wrap, 15 books against my goodreads goal of 40, we live to try again.

Happy New Year 2024 and thank you for always reading.

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Zenj Bar

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.

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Behind the screen

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.

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In Every Mirror She’s Black

Finally my book hiatus has been lifted. It has been a struggle to find a book that soaks me in from the onset and keeps me turning the pages. This book my dear readers got me captivated for 3 days and only because I left room for my daily responsibilities. I remember waking up on Monday morning to work and I slot in 15 minutes for a nap which was substituted by book reading. I have enjoyed my commute these 3 days and I seem to be getting back hold of the routine that has steadied me for the past 3 years.

I might have jinxed myself at the beginning of the year when I boldly put out 40 books as my year’s reading challenge. Previously, I have not been committing to the number and the goal was just to read. Then, I easily reached this target. I am yet to check my track but I am far from hitting 15 books. Normally at this time of the year, I would be on my 23rd. To summarize the perks of In Every Mirror She is Black;

  • The writing checks
  • Characters check
  • Delivery of the plot checks
  • The pace of the book checks
  • I am still yet to figure out the reasoning behind the choice of Title

The book is about 3 black girls; Muna is Somali, seeking asylum in Sweden, Brittany is African American first generation immigrants from Jamaica, Kemi is Nigerian but raised in America. Yes, their skin colour makes them stand out. They each face different struggles having found their way to Sweden through different circumstances but all as a result of Johnny Von Ludin and they all come to meet (six degrees of separation at work) which is always the beauty of life. I waited for this meet-up. I think each of them having different circumstances made it hard for the writer to conjure a seamless scene. I liked that the author did not meet my expectation or succumb to the guise of sisterhood just because the girls are black.

This book hit close to home for two reasons: Ever since my first visit to Sweden, I always thought I would go back for either studies or work. It was easy for me to figure my way around, the food was generally of acceptable quality as there were many cuisines to pick from and the provision of drinking water at restaurants was a given. Like Kemi, I did quickly slip into a routine of getting my morning coffee and pastry from one local cafe at the same time each morning. I also noticed that in social places i.e clubs, the men would generally hold your gaze and or stare suggestively without necessarily making a move. It was hard to socialize within the Swedish circles which I now understand is because they generally refrain from indulging in personal conversations. Also, the concept of fika and the lagom lifestyle were ideals that I would want to be part of my life. Brittany’s description of the greys in Johnny’s lavish apartment made me crave colour and personality as opposed to just simplicity which is mostly reflected in neutrals.

We may never put the final nail on the question what do women bring to the table but from Brittany and Johnny’s relationship, it is clear that all their eggs are in one basket and that basket is on top of the table. I am really holding back on having this discussion here as I will reveal some spoilers. I am looking forward to the book club meeting and having this issue discussed.

Kemi seems to have grasped the concept of all that glitter is not gold. In her professional capacity, she is expected to date a certain calibre of men but time and again she is mingling with the exact opposite. During the catch-up call when she informs her twin sister she has met someone, the sister conveys her hope that Kemi did not leave the American electricians to settle for Swede electricians in reference to the profession of her ex-boyfriend who clearly did not have the family’s approval. Kemi translates this as God’s time is right but God’s electricians are apparently not right for her.

Brittany who is dating someone from the upper class is viewed as a gold digger, Kemi is looked down upon for dating men lower than her pay grade. In Kenya when a woman gets her man to listen to her, be a present father and dote over her as should be the case you will hear that the man is bewitched and that he has lost himself. Kemi was left wondering if Sweden was giving her Tobias in exchange for her career.

This book hit close to home because it has been a month since one of my best friends left to work abroad. While reading I am wondering whether she has a softer landing. I would like to have the opportunity like Tanesha to visit often and be part of her milestones. I have had another set of friends go for studies abroad and from them I learnt that it gets lonely and having friends and family checking in is a reprieve. My heart goes out to my other friend who went much earlier during COVID and I hope the feeling of isolation is not drowning.

I believe we should have more books that portray a golden lifestyle, where love triumphs and the male character is rich, kind, affectionate, and free from any hidden intentions. It seems like we are constantly reminded to be cautious of men, and the world could do with one less reason to fear them. I did love the depth of this book. I am perturbed by what a train delay is euphemism for. I cannot wait to walk the streets of Sweden with this book in mind. The suspenseful conclusion was perfect. I am left with Kemi’s relationship and career and Brittany and Maya on my mind.

I love firsts. I am happy to have been introduced to Lolá through her first adult novel. She gave the book a more personal touch with the conversation at the tail end and for that, she will be etched in my mind. Every time I read an author’s first, I re-birth my dream of writing someday and I hope I will be as good an author. Your voice is more powerful than you think… Never, ever let the world convince you that your struggles are invalid. Never stop fighting to be nobody but yourself; she advices.

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Once upon a time there was you

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…

It is the hour, and he still has not called. She was silently hoping it was a bluff. How does one go back to life after you? As she is settling to read the book that she kept off because who reads when it’s just the two of you, cruising, she picks it up, once upon a time there was you, that’s the title; touché.

Listen to are you crazy by Conor Maynard

Well, he called right after.
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My travels to the Coast

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.

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There are no toxic jobs

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.

What’s your take, are there toxic jobs?

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Two truths and a lie

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.

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Life between reading and writing

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.

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Lost illusions

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.

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