SELF ASSESSMENT 101: SELFLESSNESS

In the apartment above me lives a man. A man and his wife. I used to wonder why this guy was always home. His car has an employee pass to some local bank, so he could not be unemployed. Every evening he would pass me while going to get groceries, and when I returned early, I would see him walk up with groceries. “Aww…what a nice man” I would always say. “But where is the wife? Shouldn’t she be the one buying groceries?” I would ask myself. I had only seen her twice….at the balcony, when she was asking me to pick up some of their clothes that had fallen on my line (oh, these Nairobi houses, you hang clothes on your line, the wind blows so hard, they fall on your neighbor’s line. If they are good enough they will keep them for you. If they are #TeamEnterprise, they will just look up to God, whisper a thank you prayer and set off with new stock to their mitumba stall. No offence, watu wa mtush, but ushawahi ibiwa nguo then mtu wa malimali anakuja kukuuzia the same clothes unaskia kumwambia zilikua zako? ).

Where was I? The family up stairs. One day, I woke up at wee hours of the night and I happened to go upstairs, and there I saw something that broke my heart. I found the guy washing some hospital bedding. You know those green things that separate patients in the ward, and that green stretcher used to move patients in the ward? He was bent down rinsing those. We exchanged a glance with no words. And sorrow filled my heart. His wife, I later learnt, ails from a disease that makes her only get out of bed when she is strong enough. She is fed, washed, clothed by this dear man. He, I later learnt, had to quit his job to take care of her himself. A question has kept ringing in my mind since then “If it were me in place of the guy, would I do it for my beloved”? And it kept occurring to me that this guy not only gave his all, his commitment to his wife, but was selfless. He has the “Not for me, but for her” mentality. 

Fast forward to this conversation I had with a friend a few weeks ago concerning this matter. We, the younger generation and some of the older generation, always thinking of ourselves. Me this… Me that… how will this benefit me? We cannot do something without first asking what’s in it for me? The “the world revolves around me” attitude. Unless we are Jesus so that “All things were created for His glory”, then selflessness should be part of us. Many are the times even I have been so selfish, that I would not do anything for anyone if it cost me a lot. Selfishness (if such a word exists). And God reminded me of Moses…see this guy eh, he has brought people out of Egypt they are in the Wilderness. Then these guys decide to so hard-headed that God wants to do away with them.  So Moses keeps asking God to have mercy on them. Then God calls Moses and tells him

“…now therefore let me alone, that my wrath may wax hot against them, and that I may consume them: and I will make of thee a great nation…” Exodus 32: 9-14

I know most of us would have said “Yeah God…enyewe these guys are so stubborn, they are giving me a headache…I think your plan is okay. Finish them off, and then start afresh with me.” Such a selfish thought…right? But Moses put the needs of the Israelites before his and pleaded that these guys be saved. Friends, that’s what being selfless is all about. See, I have been reminded severally in my self-assessment that being selfless means thinking of others first, putting other people’s needs, interests before your own. Now, Dee, (someone will ask) "at our time and age, who would dare think others without first thinking of themselves” but one thing I have come to learn, when you do things for others not expecting them to you back payback  (I did not say lending huge amounts of money), fills your heart with joy. Be it from the smallest thing as joining a group that visits the desolate or terminally ill, buying that beggar food, paying transport to random people leaving hospital, to huge things like paying fees for that orphan, even helping around in the house or helping your parents or loved ones. My mentor always tells me that as a parent and a spouse, this trait of being selfless is very necessary. You will have to put your child’s or spouse’s needs before yours. How many of us can do that? It all boils down to who’s needs come first. Mine or theirs?

Friends, I am on a self-assessment journey and being selfless is something that I can currently learning and practicing. Join me, won’t you?

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi

Twitter: @deekareithi

*all pics source: www.pixabay.com

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#AsanteMwalimu

Reading Renee’s most recent post here took me way back. Way, waaaay back, to when I first publicly declared my love for math. Even when I wrote it here exactly four years ago, I wasn’t too sure about it. I was just trying to convince myself that I was not totally doomed. You know, like the way we are told to look in the mirror and speak stuff (positive stuff of-course), to our images on the mirror, that is exactly what I was doing. This blog had become my mirror (pun intended). The first time I did it, it felt like “coming out of the closet”. You know, based on what we hear people feel when “coming out”. I didn’t know what to expect. Would society embrace me? Would they accept me for what I loved? Would they respect this love? 

Looking back now, I can’t just believe it. Everything I do involves and revolves around math and statistics (which reminds me of this joke that a friend and I shared a few days ago about statisticians counting sheep. *chuckles* Statisticians can’t count many sheep to induce sleep. They count till they obtain a good enough sample size and estimate/predict how many sheep they will have counted by the time they sleep, making it a futile exercise *chuckles a bit more* Under repeated sampling #BringBackMyLife lol). Don’t look at me like that. That was funny. Okay then *ignores the crickets chirping in dead sillence*, moving on swiftly. But really, my rosy relationship with math wasn’t always like this. 

Now, this is a story all about how

My life got flipped-turned upside down

And I'd like to take a minute

Just sit right there

I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air

Fell in love with math.

Like most of people who studied in rural nursery and primary schools, math was a BIG challenge. I would hear math and squirm at the thought of the numbers on the blackboard. Heck, I once had a nightmare that my math teacher had come to kill me. Now, that could be related to the fact that he looked scary and seemed to find pleasure in caning those of us who got zeros in math exams, but it could also be figurative; you never know. And so I grew up hating math and anything math-related. I would look at my brother in awe when he received those cups, plates and trays for being best in math (lol, those days were awesome yaani, when primary schools would prepare you for a life out there by giving you such meaningful gifts.) What do schools give these days as rewards? Phones? Tablets? Where did we go wrong?

 

source: pixabay.com

Well, my math grades (all grades generally) would take the steepest descent method each and every time we did exams. So much that my mum had my hair shaved (I had really long hair) and threatened to move me to some local school we would make fun of. Then I got transferred to a better school. How I passed that interview, God knows. And so, my life changing moment came one day as we were handing in some math problems while in class eight. I remember it so vividly you would think it’s like one of those days that Veon talks about here. I had sketched this pie chart and some calculations below it so neatly that when the teacher saw it, he showed it to the class and praised it. He shook my hand and told me. “You are a bright girl Njeri, and keep doing this, and God will bless your brain”. I remember muttering “Amen, I will” under my breath. I grabbed that. installed it in my head and I have never looked back since then. And funny enough, once the math started getting in, all other subjects started making sense. 

See, the words of Mr. Murungaru (that is his name), may have been inaudible to the rest of the class but they were spoken to me. When he commended me on my great work; I felt like nothing could stop me. And that is the amazing thing about teachers and parents. Their words influence our lives in such a great way. Most of the time we take it for granted that someone taught us how to write, how to read, how to speak good English, swahili or whatever language you are good at. We forget that it took patience, skill and someone believing in you to see you acquire and grow in whatever skill or talent you have. IT, science, fashion, embroidery, pottery, farming, business, singing, acting, playing that instrument; name it. Teachers are the least appreciated people around and that needs to change.

For them to think less of themselves that much that they want to see you prosper and see you spread your proverbial wings and fly, they need more appreciation. So take the time from now on and make it a habit to appreciate that teacher, mentor, parent or friend who taught you something that changed your life. Say #Asante (thank you) and share your story. For me, I appreciate all my math and statistics teachers/lecturers who taught me to look at the world through the eyes of math.

#AsanteMwalimu (Thank you teacher)

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi

Twitter: @deekareithi

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AT WAR

source: www.psywar.org

 

We are at war;

All of us.

Soldiers, warriors, victims, citizens.

With blood on knives, arrows, blades, blood on our minds.

Trapped in the cages we call minds,

Bound by chains of false promises.

We slave,

We hope, we wait.

As Buildings go up in smoke.

We hear guns and bombs…followed by silence and sobs.

We fight as they steal our freedom,

Sinking us deep in the sea of blood and tears,

“our bloody enemies are so close, they are in our ears”.

We are at war.

Black trenches...black coats,

Black as their souls;

Black as the skin on their bodies;

Black as the burning blood they spill;

Black as the hands that carry the weapons;

Black as the people they kill.

We knew,  we knew all along

Yet we shut our ears.

The cry of the orphan; we ignored.

The widow, the widower; we created.

The soldier, the child; we killed.

Dreams haunted by the oppression of war.

Violent men welcomed with pomp and glamour,

Celebrated.

Peaceful men, who wore compassion as their amour,

Disregarded.

We were at war.

Befado

Source: www.digitaljournal.com

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THE ORPHAN

The orchestra plays

The choir softly chants

“Benedictus qui venit

Ni nomine venit”

I sit at the edge of my bed

My soft well padded bed

Swaying my mind, nodding

To the choir’s soft chants

Lonely I sit there,

As I have; daily

Since my parents died

I have no friends,

I have no parents

I process the pain inside,

Softly nursing my inner sores

I tell myself jokes

I chuckle at them,

Tell myself how funny I am.

At times I scorn myself,

For  not being able to do it; to overcome it,

To grow up.

Joy, roy, mackoy,

We laugh, we chat, we coil

I walk with them, everywhere

They are omnipresent,

Immortal, invisible,

My little gods

They are all I have.

My parents were stolen

My only friends taken

Now I have no parents,

I have no friends.

Befado

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IN MY SHOES

“The lady who has the most shoes in the end wins!!” a lady I know excitedly exclaimed when she when she was explaining why she was attending a shoe sale (name excluded for obvious reasons). Win what? (I hear men asking) Well, she will just win IT. Don't ask me what it is she wins; she just wins... it's there. No one knows what is won but she wins. Period. No questions about it. I don’t know who cast a spell on ladies that brought forth this obsession with shoes.

 

 

Ha-ha now, fast forward to the many shoes we see on the streets. I am and forever be amazed at the types of shoes I see ladies wearing. Now before you throw that glass at me, don’t get me wrong, I am a lady too and even though I own a few (10-15) pairs of shoes (more to come soon); I always wonder why we ladies in particular love wearing weird makes of shoes. Sophistication? Class? I still don’t see the need to walk uncomfortably and spend several thousands of shillings on something that causes you more pain than comfort when walking. I like keeping it simple and comfortable. But then that’s me. Men, on the other hand, have no trouble with shoes…just slip your feet in there and ensure it’s fitting and comfortable; classy or not.

Anyway, enough of the shoes rant. Now, more often than not I hear people blurt out the famous statement “Don’t judge me until you have walked in my shoes”. Each time I hear someone say/write that I can’t help but laugh. Most of the time, the person saying that is saying it to defend some behavior or attitude that in fact is spiritually, morally or socially unacceptable. This statement tends to give them some sort of consolation that what they did/said was right; only that the rest of the human race does not understand or know them. I mean; even I have used it severally to sooth my human ego. In most instances, the statement “you don’t know me” (which is said with a straight face with lots of bitterness, anger and resentment towards the person being addressed) accompanies or comes before the famous statement.

  These days I just burst into laugh when this statement is made… okay, not burst, I chuckle…. fine; I smile (with a cheeky evil laughter inside) and wonder, before we make such a statement; do we ever examine ourselves and see if we even have the proverbial shoes? And if we do; are they fit for anyone to walk in? Are they walkable? (Yeah; I just invented that word…I’ll patent it :-p). See, most of us complain that others judge us without knowing what we had to do to do what we did (are those lyrics to a song? I regress). Coincidentally, it’s mostly a lady who is saying that. Lately, most of us ladies have been reduced to wasting our inner beauty, wasting away our souls, in a bid to please others (read men). So damaged are we that these proverbial shoes that we say people need to walk in before judging us; have been reduced to dust. We are walking bare footed.

So lost in the world are we that we do not even think of how our children will be; how they will grow up. We need the grace of God. Even though I have never heard many men say that (except when they are caught cheating or lying), we all; men included, need to examine ourselves more and see why we want to be so self-defensive and want to justify that which was obviously wrong.

So, the next time we (I included) are tempted to use the statement “Don’t judge me until you have walked in my shoes”, let’s ask ourselves, do we even have any shoes or are we walking around bare footed? If we do; are they walkable? Let’s examine our spiritual, moral and social selves and see why we are being so defensive.

Twitter: @deekareithi

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THROWBACK THURSDAY.

Did you catch that? I threw it!! And it was Thursday!! Hehehe, throw back Thursday it is. Now, to begin with; who on earth invented this “throwback Thursday?”  Why particularly on Thursday? I thought if there was a day that one would use to reflect on the past; it should be Monday. You know, with the weekend past and we did all those things during the weekend and…never mind. This is not about Mondays and weekends.

Since this is a Thursday and social pressure (damn you social and peer pressure) has enslaved me; I am obliged to write this. Now, you are in a train, its speeding past the fields, you are seated alone at a window. As the train speeds past a dusty town, you stare mysteriously (you know, like they do in movies....lol) out of the window. You start reminiscing; oh how you miss the past. Memories flash before your very eyes, your train of thoughts and memories is moving so slow, you live in the memories once again. See where you are, now, hold that position. Such is the setting I intended this to be written (unlike where I am now, in an office full of books; not novels and data waiting for me to analyze it. *le sigh*).

I miss the old days, the good old days. Even though poverty was more rampant and food was scarce, I miss the values that we had. You know, (to the younger generation) the days your folks or grandparents tell you about when a 10cents (Kenyan cents) would buy you a loaf of bread, ok not that long ago… days when “bibo” and “juci cola” were a delicacy, days when the alphabet was taught as it is written, not as what children are taught these days. I do miss those days, and here is the reason why;

I miss the days when brotherhood was the norm. Days when looking out for your brother was your first priority. Days when if your parents bought you a bicycle, you would rush to the village (community) kids and exclaim “tumenunuliwa bike” (A bicycle has been bought for us) and you wouldn’t mind sharing it, taking turns to ride it. Days when people lived in actual communities and not “gated communities” where you do not even know and have never seen your neighbor.  I miss the days we would look forward to Christmas and birthdays, because it was a time we rejoiced and sipped juice and bread; unlike the big birthday parties they have these days, with emcees and all…why would you hire an emcee for your child’s first birthday? In my days, you grandpa was the emcee!!

I miss the days when marriage was respected and pregnancy celebrated; when love was real. You know, days when people would go through so much (together) and make their marriages work (ever looked at an old couple and wondered what they saw in each other? I always do), unlike these days when insecurity, greed and doubt fill relationships. Days when pregnancy was celebrated, not as these days where you hear “so and so is pregnant” and the response is “her too? Oh they could not wait?” then the other will reply “I guess not, but her boy friend will have to marry her now”. Sad. These days people get married to cover for pregnancies, the world is full of people who want relationships with no commitment; people who want the “husband-wife” or “boyfriend-girlfriend” experience, with no commitment. Coz if you do, you are too serious with life? Sad.

I miss those days when innocence was celebrated; days when cartoons, animations and comedy was something to watch with children and laugh about; not some mischievous and evil plan to throw in some dirty words…I mean, these days even cartoons and animations kiss and have “friends with benefits” relationships, in our days, only Cinderella had the privilege to kiss her prince charming! Days when novels were interesting, not some porn on paper! Days when writers had good content to write about, after serious consideration and days of writing; not based on a certain pornographic fantasy they have.

Of all, I miss those days when Christians had values and stuck to them. Not spend days drinking and the next minute they are leading worship in church…days when we had “Sunday best” dressing out best; unlike these days when we use the “…for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart….” (1^st Samuel 16:7) scripture to defend our lacking clothing at church or anywhere (its good to read the whole chapter and see why Samuel said that).

And though those days are far much gone, I strive to re-live them and ensure my children will have a taste of those days and these memories.

Now, get out of that train (of thoughts) and continue doing what we were doing. Let’s ensure that our children have a life they look back at and miss.

Twitter: @deekareithi

 Google plus: Dorcas Kareithi

*ION, May the soul of Dr. Maya Angelou, renown poet and inspiration to writers and poets, rest in eternal peace*

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WHERE ARE WE HEADED?

Recently, a controversy broke out about a church poster that was termed as “not fit” for not only Christian viewing but also general viewing.  There have been talks, debates and all that hullabaloo about it. The church came out in defense of their youth course (though I did not hear them support their answers with scripture as is expected of any religion follower accused of going against their faith). But that is not what makes me angry.

 

“What brings you to church” I asked a youth man in an un-named city church. The young man laughs and glances around before saying; “The hot girls, of course. I realized that it’s actually easier to get sex in church, because many of these young people are rebellious, they come here to mask their behavior. They are the wildest group I know of; most are just pretenders,” he confides.”

This was an excerpt from a local daily that was investigating on the same. Now, before you get judgmental and all, I am a born again Christian, who believes in certain values, and above all, HUMAN. This does not mean I am “holy”; I do make mistakes, I do sin, but by the grace of God keeps me safe from most evil and sin.

Now, back to my anger. I am left to wonder where our Christian values, those values our parents taught us, and brought us up with; where are they? Where are we headed as a Christian nation? We are at a time and age where gospel artists no longer give content that is based on the scripture (and none of them seem to care). Where a Christian artist goes ahead and gets models for his video and publicly says the sees nothing wrong in appreciating beauty (as they dance erotically). Where worship leaders spend the night at drinking parties and in the morning they are leading worship. Where we Christian youth are getting married to cover up some pregnancy. What happened to no sex before marriage? Where dancing styles like “bend over” are danced in church, at the pulpit mind you, and the church leaders just smile and say “the youth are dancing for Jesus” and “our youth are talented”, as they look at the congregation with pride seeing how young people have flocked their church.

What explanation do they give? “We are attracting the youth to church”. “Times have changed; we have to give something that is attractive to the youth, to lead them to Jesus”. 

“¹I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the compassions of God, to present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, [which is] your intelligent service.² And be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of [your] mind, that ye may prove what [is] the good and acceptable and perfect will of God.” Romans 12:1 and 2

Where are we headed? Where have our Christian values been buried in the name of “attracting people to Jesus”?! Call me old school, but such are the values that we need back. It is as such moments that I echo my colleague Dickson Otieno’s words; as he put it here. 

If there was a time we, the youth needed prayers; it is now.

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FACING YOUR FEARS; ONE BY ONE

Three months ago, if you would have told me I’ll be driving through the streets of Nairobi like a pro, I’d have ROTFL (by the way, the Rolling On The Floor Laughing is never real, not unless someone is tickling your tummy and you’re 8 years old! More still, those who write that I’m sure do it in the middle of really boring, meetings or with a stone face and their bodies are nowhere near any floor).

Fast forward to some days ago, my first long distance test came. You see, I always had a fear of driving and cars. Since a close friend was killed in a car accident while being given a “lift”, I developed a fear of cars and driving….and it put me down for years. This was till I decided to take driving classes… well, let’s just say I was pushed…ok I was forced to. So I signed up for the classes, just so that the nagging may stop. Two weeks later and my instructor signs up for my exams...and pass did i. (but they didn’t fool me, I went back and made sure I had maximized use of my fees)

So a few days after getting my license and I was driving through the streets of my home town like I had been driving for years. I had taken my first step to overcoming my fears. Most of us have serious fears, like my other fear of millipedes (I wonder how I can overcome that one). But I came to realize, all it takes is taking that one great step. Believe that you can overcome it. Having someone who constantly tells you “you can do it” “I have you back” “I’m here for you”; having someone to help boost your confidence. But mostly, you just have to believe in yourself.

Then came Friday night and my dad announced that I will be having my first long distance test. Driving to Nairobi and back…at first I was nervous but that night I called a friend and he told me he believed in me. I was now ready. 4 am and I started the “journey of a life time”. I must admit it was a nice experience, accelerating till I felt as if I would fly, slowing down at bumps to occasionally hear strangers ask “is that a child driving by herself?” watching policemen stare at me in amazement as I passed them. Oh it was lovely!  Snaking through the hills and valleys of Central Kenya (coz there are no hills in Nairobi). 

At the end of the day, I came back feeling so tired, my eyes sore (I was actually shedding tears. I guess I took the “keep your eyes on the road” too seriously). When I picked up my phone and called my best friend to tell him this great fear I had overcome, his reaction was a boost to my confidence (that is part of the reason he is my best friend; the way he encourages me *smiles*). Anyway; even though I now have to go back to wearing my glasses, I did achieve something great. My list of fears is one fear less.

Take that first step. I dare you to face your fears.

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TO THE ASK SHOW WITH MY CHECKLIST

Well, it’s that time of the year again; the annual agricultural shows are here. I am so excited about this year’s show. I am so excited because I have a bone to pick with the ASK (Agricultural Society of Kenya).

If you attended the shows when you were young, you will agree with me it’s where we spent every shilling of our savings. My brother and I would save for several months for the sake of these shows. See, our parents would pay the entrance fee and leave us to “explore” the area. Warning us not to get lost and telling us to meet at a certain food kiosk at lunch time. The show was like the event of the year, especially when we were in primary school. Walking around in cliques looking at what the ASK termed as wonders of the world.

 This time round, I am going there as a lady on a revenge mission.  The ASK lied to me, deceived me at my tender age, and I go there this year on a revenge mission. Like ARROW the series, I bear a pouch with some writing materials and cameras as my arrows and I do have a check list (by the way if you still have not watched arrow the series, ensure you do :-)). In this checklist, I have several things that ASK deceived me with. I am going with only one aim in mind. To prove (with photos where applicable) that some of the things they made me glare at, drool at, having visions of those wonders of the world that I believed then, could only be found at our local area.

Some of these things include mermaids (don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to say mermaids do not exist but am sure those were a fake), half-men-half-women, (till this day I don’t understand how they pulled that one off), some chicken that had tits and gave milk (I swear hiyo ni uchawi), the half-man-half-donkey (I know, I believed they are real!). Those are the few that are the top of my list. On my visit this time, I will ensure I touch (or throw a stone at) any of them to see if they move. I will even sneak at the back and take pictures of their “back-stage” acts (well i will also give that evil laughter in a cheeky voice that goes like ehehehehehe...gotcha!)

As the ASK Embu show starts tomorrow the 13^th, I will make my way there on 14^th with my checklist and my mission in mind. Well, I will definitely ride that merry go round! I know that one was real, and so was the thrill of riding it :-)

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THE SHE FACTOR

We were standing at a bus station (sort of, it was what we call a stage). A child about two years old starts crying. Naturally, I turned and saw he was stretching his arms up. My first instinct was to stretch mine and just pick him up and woo him till he keeps quiet. Then I turn around and there, I see it. 

You see, I was not the only one, 10+ other ladies and women had turned too and had that concerned look (which you will obviously notice when you look at a mother whose child is in tears). They were all ready and willing to pick up the little kiddo. My friend whom I was standing with whispered to me “what is wrong with you ladies”. You should see the look I gave him! It was the “it’s like asking if a freezer is cold” face. (If you have never seen that face, ask me an obvious question and you will get it, fresh). I whispered, well it was not so much of a whisper coz the couple next to us heard, him “it’s our nature”.

Flash back to those days I used to watch a series by the name “nanny 911”. Well I’m not sure if that is the name or I got a word wrong. For men, I know you wouldn’t be caught dead watching it, so I’m going to shed a little light on what the series was all about. It was a show where mothers who had issues raising up their children called for help from this supper nanny. There! I got it now! The name was “supper nanny”. There was however, one episode that made me shed a tear. I actually never shed tears when watching stuff (unless its reeeeeeeeeaaaallllly moving) so this one was really moving. In that episode, the mum had an issue of being too attached to her last born son. Yes, too attached. I mean the boy would cry and the mum would just rush to pick him up, spoil him and hug him tight. So what the nanny was trying to teach the mum is to not pick up the baby when she cries. So the kid would cry and the mum would just try, really hard, to ignore the kid and boy did she end up with a bucket of tears. And she would go like “I just can’t, the minute he cries I just want to pick him up and hug him, tell him everything is okay”. And that would touch that softest spot of my heart and I would whisper to the telly “I know! I feel you”

I mean, it’s in us. Every girl, every lady, every woman, every mother, every chiq has that in them. We will want to turn and stretch out our arms to any child that is crying. (I can see the ladies nodding) We will want to cuddle that child that has lost its mother. We will want to hug any child when an opportunity arises. We will say “aaaawwww” when a child says or does something that we think is cute. We will smile and do that cliche sigh when we see kids playing. We will long to hold children. One gets this feeling in their heart…it’s just … I cannot even find the words. Ladies you know what I mean right? It’s in us, it’s our nature. So men, any time you see us do anything of the stuff mentioned above (and so much more) just understand. It’s our nature. It’s in us. It’s the she factor!

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