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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PAINORPHOSIS

Know about this popular and famous phrase, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”? Forget how people contort it to say “beauty is in the eye of the beer/bae holder” (though I find the latter quite amusing).

A few days ago, a friend and I were discussing on the topic of pain. Funny, right…how people can sit and hold a discussion on pain. Well, other than the joy and laughter shared, love for food and statistics (read math), these are the perks of having knowledgeable friends. You should have at least one or two of these; by the way…they make life interesting. So we were discussing (as is typical of statisticians/scientists) the pros and cons of pain. You know, the way dudes would sit down and discuss the pros and cons of a certain lady/car or how ladies discuss the pros and cons of a certain outfit/guy/program/hairstyle/weave/shoe *see what I did there?* or how a group of friends discuss about scripture and religious philosophies…well, that kind of discussion. We came to an interesting conclusion; the beauty of pain is in the eye of the pain-bearer.

See, most of us have been through pain of some sort. Some of us have gone through so much pain that we have morphed to this weird thing that is immune to pain. Some of us have gone through so much pain that we could easily live with pain in the same house like we have been married for the past decade. We are familiar with pain; we know pain like the proverbial back of our hands. Some of us went rouge after an episode of pain and became wrecks. The loss of a loved one, the death of a family member, losing a job or a contract, a heart break, getting news of terminal illness, a dead career or passion, rejection, depression, someone telling you “you are good for nothing”, that “we need to talk” or “I think we should take time off”, divorce, separation…name it. Well, some of us went through a certain episode of pain that made us suicidal and those serial killers we hear about. Others became serial killers of dreams, relationships, hopes, and basically everything they come across.

But then there is this other side of pain, the one that somehow morphs you into something stronger…something, something so rock-solid that whatever is thrown at you…you just smile and say “I’ve been through hell and came out stronger” or “ah, that? I’ve seen worse”. The kind that makes you think about the truism that if it doesn’t break you down, it makes you stronger. I have seen, kind-of admired and envied these kind of people. See, this pain can make one take the energy from the sting and ache and turn it to fuel. V-power to their sheer determination and endurance. Pieces are written, books are completed, paintings are finished, codes are written and perfected, and manuscripts are written and completed. Albums and records are written and recorded, exams are aced, an instrument is learnt, a farm gets all tilled. They become unstoppable. People would have a better chance of knocking a hurtling oil tanker off its path by sticking their leg out than break their spirit. All because they choose to take up that throbbing ache, that head-ache-causing and appetite-losing anguish and embrace a side of it that most people CHOOSE not to. 

Source: pixabay.com

So, this is to pain. To the beauty of pain that is in the eye of the pain-bearer. To  painorphosis, the kind of morphing that makes you Olivia-pope-dance to Josh Groban’s “Below the line” when it plays on your home theatre at full volume. Holding a glass of milk; at 2 am.

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi 

Twitter: @deekareithi 

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WHAT IF WE: GRATITUDE

It’s a Saturday evening, the clouds are so dark; you can search all over and never find even an African so dark (lol). This means only one thing. The heavens are heavily pregnant, ready to rain down and rain hard on un-expecting humans. We have just come from eating a 4 kg 4-layered cake at a friend’s graduation party…the taste that the cake left is still with me. A friend and I are chatting our way to town in the cool and quiet evening.

‘Aki kutanyesha (It’s going to rain)” there is a worried look on my face as I touch my recently blow-dried mane.

“Hakutanyesha…I am not a rain maker but chill uone, hakutanyesha (No it won’t rain…. I’m not a rain maker but just wait and see)” he says amid laughter.

“Uko sure? (Are you sure?)” (Lately I have been asking this alot…but that’s another day’s tale)

“Yes…trust me.”

And so I did. And instead of taking a ride to another friend’s place…we decided to walk. Evening walks are one of my favorite things to do…especially with good company :-) . So we walk. And what goes well with walking…especially on such a cool evening? Talking. And so we talked. We talked about almost everything…from scripture…spiritual lives, lame jokes, a few adventures in the timeline, business opportunities (ha-ha yes…this had to be there) and how life in general was. 

source: www.pixabay.com

When we arrived at this other friend’s house for dinner, music and laughter (yes, that is how dinner is served...with music and laughter), I remember just thinking about how the long weekend (thank you pope…a four day weekend was just what some of us needed. I don’t think I can ever repay you…literally) had been. I remember thinking about the laughter and joy we were sharing over a meal. I remember thinking how this brother from another mother (hahah yes..he is family, sorry to burst your bubble), had sacrificed so much for me, picking me up when I arrived late at night (coz traveling at night is so much fun), even bringing along a gift, accompanying me to an event that he did not even know anyone, bringing us lunch…checking on us, ensuring we arrived home safely. And I had not even said thank you. How ungrateful of me…right? 

“Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Now, remember that story where a king and servant went out to hunt and the servant’s hand was cut off and then the next time the servant went hunting he left the king and he met man-eating humans who could only eat “whole” people? Yes? The one where he was spared despite the fact that he was mad at his king for chopping his arm earlier? Well, I don’t know if that story happened in real life but this is the point they were trying to put across: Be grateful no matter what happens to you, because everything happens for a purpose. At times thins go so south *is there such a thing as down south?* that all we see are the bad things in life; and this creates a negative attitude and resentment in our hearts.

Friends, as the year comes to an end in a few days (yey Christmas), I can’t help but look back at the year and see how many times I have been ungrateful. I have not said thank you enough. Maybe like me, you have also been through so much in the year that you see no need of being grateful. So many times we focus on the things that went wrong and forget those times, days or moments that went right. Remember that time you lacked and someone or God provided? Did you say thank you? Or did you think that you deserved it, that it was your right? Remember that time you were in need and someone sorted you out? Were you grateful for that? or did you assume that you deserved to be helped? Remember that time you were unwell and thought you would never live and you lived? Did you thank God for healing? Remember the last time you were in hospital? No? Does it occur to you be grateful for good health? Remember that person who is always there for you…who loves or sticks with you regardless of how hard it is to deal with you? Remember that person who loves you despite your flaws? Yes? No? Have you been showing gratitude to them?

Show me one person who is never grateful and how dull their lives are. Then show me one person who is ever grateful and how prosperous his life is…and how also they seem to attract good. I am a witness. For the past few months, the praise “Hallelujah” as been frequent on my lips and my heart; and things have been good.

source: www.christianglobe.com

What if we showed more gratitude? What if we started today? What if we did it #ForMyCity and for humanity? Are we going to wait until the year ends for us to start showing gratitude to family, friends and God? Start today…won’t you?

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi

Twitter: @deekareithi

(The campaign dubbed #ForMyCity led by Poetry Spot. Follow the conversation here)

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WHAT IF WE: HARD WORK

A few months ago I was in a bus en route home from town. It was a Sunday afternoon. I sat next to this father who was speaking to his son on the phone (okay, it was either his son or someone else's son but there was frequent use of the word “Kababa”). I could not hear what the person on the other side of the telephone conversation was saying (partly because it was none of my business and partly because this man was talking too loudly and I just wanted to shut him off my mind trail), but you could tell by the words of this man that the person on the other side was important.  He kept asking the other party if he had been working hard and if he held on to his dream. He kept reassuring him to keep working on that dream and work hard so that he may not end up like his father (Enough with the pressure already lol).

Source: www.npr.org

Fast forward to a month ago when I sat in an audience where a person I admire from work was sharing her story. Well, hers is not the riches to rags story, neither is her story like what most people use in talk shows and such forums where they say how they are from a humble background (note, as a friend of mine said, coming from such backgrounds does not give you monopoly over suffering), and they rose above adversity to succeed. Don’t get me wrong, I do love those stories too, they are a source of inspiration. Hers, on the other side, is a story of how she set goals for herself, kept her eyes on that dream and worked damn hard to be where she is, regardless of where she came from. She is a dreamer, a hard worker, a spirited go-getter, and has neither the time nor the space for mediocre or substandard things. And you can see the result from her work to her family, her husband (you should see them together) and the way she runs life in general. Now, before you start fussing and start telling me how I may not know what she is going trough and that no one can have it all, lemmie remind you that what she kept insisting on was hard work. H.A.R.D W.O.R.K.

A good friend and I have been talking about dreams, goals desires and what we are doing about them a lot of late. *By the way, friend who shall not be named, this is just a permanent and polite reminder that you owe me a shout out. Remember. SOTMIII*. Where was I? Yes, Hard work. I always tell some girls I mentor that I am one staunch believer of hard work. Yes, success (and achieving dreams) comes in many ways and using different avenues but if there I one that I can take to the bank and I was brought up with is hard work. The good book states very well that 

“In all toil there is profit, but mere talk tends only to poverty.” (Proverbs 14:23) 

I have never met anyone who worked so hard and it never worked out. If you meet one, please let me know so that I meet them. What we have these days are people who want it easy, people who are not willing to work hard or sweat for their dreams. Hell, we don’t even dream anymore or have these goals and aspirations. #YOLO has become a mantra that will destroy us, if we are not careful. Remember that dream you had when you were young? That goal you wanted to achieve, that person you wanted to become? What happened to those dreams and aspirations? Sure, you will say life happened. Sure, you will say priorities changed. But you know what, a dream never dies, no matter the circumstance…your gut still holds on to that dream, wanting to pursue it so bad. A dream never dies.

We all know that 10,000 hours theory, right? I talked about it here. What if we all started working on that dream? What if we started yesterday? What if we started today? What if we so badly wanted that dream? What if we were willing to spill sweat and blood to achieve it? What if we worked so damn hard? For our families, relationships, companies, ourselves? What if we did it #ForMyCity and for humanity? 

  

What if we worked hard?  

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi

Twitter: @deekareithi

 (The campaign dubbed #ForMyCity led by Poetry Spot. Follow the conversation here)

  

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MAKE ME NUMB

Mirror mirror on the wall,

Who’s the bravest of them all?

His image fastens on him,

Its piercing eyes, its mouth opens;

Jeers at him.

“Make me numb God, make me Numb”

He whispers

“my face is red with weeping,

Deep shadows ring my eyes.

Make me numb.”

This fear shatters him,

Seizes him by the neck; crushes him.

Without pity, it pierces his kidneys,

Spills his galls on the ground.

It plunges him into a slime pit,

Even his clothes detest him.

It sews sack-cloths over his skin;

Buries his brow in the dust.

Each time he gets up, he goes down.

Deep.

Deeper.

He knows the foundations of hell like his first name.

“Make me numb God, make me Numb”

He whispers

“My face is red with weeping,

Deep shadows ring my eyes.

Make me numb.”

He is but a byword to everyone;

A man, whose face people spit,

His whole frame is but a shadow,

As water wears away stones,

As torrents wash away soil,

He lies down thinking

“How long, before I get up?”

For you see, the night drags on,

And the days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle.

He is a slave, longing for evening shadows,

Like a hired man, awaiting his wages.

So,

“Make me numb God, make me Numb”

He whispers

“Make me numb, till I feel nothing

For fear is but a feeling”

Befado

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A LESSON ON HUMILITY.

“A great man is always willing to be little.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson

As I write this I am in a hurry, in a hurry because I am supposed to attend a seminar by some scientists in a few minutes. Now, a few minutes ago it was tea break where I work. Well, I have been here a few weeks so I am still getting accustomed to the place and the people. Where was I? Tea break. See on Friday mornings, they give free tea and snacks. For the past few weeks, I missed the FREE tea and snacks. This week I vowed not to (I even set a reminder and an alarm at 9.50 so that I begin my journey to the cafeteria at that time). so I grab my tea and the snacks provided and sit by myself at a certain table. For these who know me well, when I find myself in an environment where I do not know most of the people, I prefer to sit by myself and have a chat with my many imaginary friends (I know you do too).

On this day, they served some boiled maize (which I love by the way) and I am there, waiting for the weekly brief by management. As I am sited there, a young (well, she had a few grey hairs, she is not that young) casually dressed woman comes and sits opposite to where I am and we start discussing the maize that has been served. I praise the cob I was holding so much that she decided to get herself one. She is not taking tea, I observe. She gets back to our (yeah, now its ours) table and starts eating the maize. A few minutes later the cafeteria in charge brings her a plate with a few other cobs. In my mind I register she is one of the many visitors that frequent the place and we listen in on the brief, which has started by now.

As the briefing went on, someone made a report and the easy lady across me becomes tough and makes tough comments. At first I am surprised but then I tell myself that it must be the open door management policy of this place, and I start making mental notes. After the brief, the lady leaves and I go back to my conversation with my imaginary friends. Someone next to me says to me “I like how DG is tough”. Oh, so that’s her name, DG. What could DG mean? In my mind I make up the funniest of names that DG could mean (Danielle Grant, Densely Gael and many other names). “She’s DG?” I ask him. “Yeah, Director General” he says. 

 *Brain Freeze*

 

You mean DG means director general? She is the apex in the organization? I couldn’t believe it! I was chatting casually with the boss, and I am just an intern!! How can she be so humble? Can you imagine, the “top boss” sitting at a table chatting with a two-week old intern? Where? When? If it were some of us, we get a little power and we ensure everyone knows who we are. We go bossing around people, addressing people as if you are the reason they work there, giving people the “do you know who I am?” look as you walk around. Sitting in secluded places with “special seats” that no one dares to sit on because “It belongs to our boss”. Surely!! 

Humility and success go hand in hand. If you want to rise, lay the first foundation that is humility. After all, “Pride makes us artificial, humility makes us real” – Thomas Merton.

Have a humble day now, won’t you. :-)

Twitter: @deekareithi

Facebook: Dorcas Kareithi

Google plus: Dorcas Kareithi

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THE STRENGTH OF A MAN by Anonymous

It is still the month of love and it is in that same mood that I post this. I came across this short piece and thought is should share it...  :-)

The strength of a man isn't seen in the width of his shoulders.
It's seen in the width of his arms that encircle and protect you.
The strength of a man isn't in the deep tone of his voice. 
It is in the gentle words he whispers.

The strength of a man isn't in the words he speaks.
It's in how he keeps his word.
The strength of a man isn't how many buddies he has.
It's how good a buddy he is with his children.

The strength of a man isn't in how respected he is at work.
It's in how he is respected at home.
The strength of a man isn't in how hard he hits.
It's in how tender he touches.

The strength of a man isn't in the hair on his chest.
It's in his heart....that lies within his chest.
The strength of a man isn't in how many women he's loved.
It's in whether he can be true to the ONE woman he's trying to love.

The strength of a man isn't in the weight he can lift.
It is in the burdens he can understand and overcome.
The strength of a man isn't in the weight he can lift.
It's in the effort he puts forth when you are unable.

The strength of a man isn't in how he makes love.
It's in the understanding that there is more to making love..than making love..

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THE SILENT LOVERS

Well, well, well, it’s here again; the month that all irresponsible (yes, irresponsible) men dread, evil (yes evil) women maliciously await and lovers look forward to. The month where red is the “it” color, the month where chocolates and flowers sell most and most unfortunately most hearts are broken. It’s February, the so called month of love.

“Be emotional!! You are Human!!!” my pastor’s word’s echoed in the halls of church on Sunday (yeah, I was quite surprised but pleased too…I mean, if I get emotional; I have the go ahead from spiritual authority *Thank you God*) now, ladies and men, let us be clear on one thing; being emotional (and sensitive) and becoming a hysterical person are two different things. Getting mad to the point of scratching your lover’s car with a knife just because they did not get you what you wanted does not classify as emotional (and sensitive). Wailing out loudly at night disturbing the peace of the night because your heart was broken and you had to drink it out does not classify as emotional. That is hysterical. Are we on the same page now? Good.

Well, today I talk about a character that loves silently (note, not secretly). I just love the silent lover. Maybe it’s because I fell in love with one as such, or maybe I am one. They are not shy, they are not timid, they are not reluctant, and they just love silently. To them, saying the words “I love you” take some work. Don’t get me wrong, they will write it down and most importantly show it by actions, but they rarely say the words “I love you”. Saying these words to them, you may not get why they remain silent and not say it back to you, but if you know a person well, you will know why they will not.

To them the phrase “actions speak louder than words” carries more meaning than “If you love them, tell them”. This type of lovers will hold your hand in the most sensual way, they will look at you in ways that will steam you up, and they will listen in a way that amazes you. They will touch you in a way that makes you forget anyone has ever touched you. They will spoil you with things that make you smell the “love in the air”. They will hug you tight till your worries disappear. They will gladly show you they will be there, that they are there, that they love you; when words fail them.

They are the silent (I repeat; not secret) lovers. If your love is a silent lover; well, open your eyes and see past the words. Experience love in their way. They do sacrifice to experience it your way; right?

Show your love the best way you know how to. Forget not God’s love this season; (He is kind of a silent lover huh). Spread the love this month, don’t spread “seeds”. Share the love, and keep some for yourself too.

Happy Valentine my dear friends.

@deekareithi

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JUST BECAUSE

Just because you can sing in church,

Just because you quote the bible much,

Just because you plant seeds, good deeds, don’t do mix and match,

Doesn’t make you more of a Christian,

Let God be judge

Just because he calls you daily,

Just because he takes you to parties, buys you panties, makes you smiley, daily,

Just because he says he will pay your dowry,

Doesn’t make him a better lover,

Let the heart be judge.

Just because you perform in gigs,

Just because in you mix English, Swahili, sheng' in your jinx,

Just because I’m quiet, perform in syncs,

Doesn’t mean you are a better poet, artist,

Let the words be judge.

Just because you live your dream,

Just because, it seems like I dream my life,

Just because I day dream, and insomnia works on me at night,

Doesn’t make you a better dreamer,

Let tomorrow be judge.

Befado

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STARTING IT HIGH

Excuse the heading…by saying starting it high, this does not mean the “high” where one is drugged or drunk (by alcohol or the Holy Spirit)

Well, happy New Year y’all!!! Well well well, the New Year is here and this is a chance to yes, make another difference in your existence as a human being (yay!). Last year, 2013 is so gone and here is another year. I know we all got our resolutions; speaking of resolutions, I know people claim they write some down, either due to social pressure or otherwise. Anyhu, whether we write them down or not, we all have goals or targets that we want to achieve in the New Year.

As I think of writing this, I am in a salon. Well ladies, we all know how entertaining salons are; this is one place where some women think they have gone for therapy sessions. Gossips, updates, praise, judgments, those juicy details you would never hear anywhere else, you will hear in a salon. Anyway, this day I decided to change where I have my hair made. So as we are getting our hair done, this woman goes ahead to rant about how 2013 was a fail for her, how she failed in this and in that, how her heart was broken…and as expected, how broke she was. *sigh* she went ahead to state that she does not expect anything to change in 2014, that she will be more miserable in 2014, with VAT and cost of living so high. I shook my head. Believe you me, that will happen to her (yeah, I’m a prophet of doom on this one).

In life, they say, aim for the stars…no, the moon, so that if you fall, you will fall on the stars. (is that possible in reality?) Most of us set targets that are too low for us. The fear that we have of failing or of not achieving our goals makes us set goals that we can easily reach. Come on; challenge yourself!! Last year, I heard someone say that he had vowed to buy themselves a phone worth 20 thousand shillings. He outdid himself actually, and bought one 28,000/=.

 What is my point? This year, as we start, challenge yourself. Set goals that are high but attainable. OK, don’t aim at buying a Mercedes yet you live in your mother’s house, or aim at getting married this year and you are single (lol). You get me?  In statistics (yes, I had to chip in something statistical he he) they say that standard deviation decreases with increase in the number of trials. For those not statistically inclined, this means that the more you try, the higher the probability (there I go again), I mean chances of you getting closer to what you want.

Don’t be afraid of getting disappointed, you never know, you just might get there; if and only if, you focus and balance your life. With that said, welcome to 2014, lets aim high, let’s start high and make this a year of difference!!

To a great year ahead *cheers*

@deekareithi

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BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

When yester-mid morning I met up with some great friends for a hike, I did not know it would be an experience that would forever remain in my mind. Three friends and I embarked on a hike in the not so famous Njukiri Forest, Kirinyaga County, Kenya. The forest is known (to those who know it) for a river, river Rupingazi which traverses the county coming from Mt. Kenya. A quick fact about this river, it is the boundary of Kirinyaga County and Embu County and is quite wide and deep.

I regress. All we had in mind was a hike in a bid to sit under a waterfall along the river or at least behold its beauty. We walked a few kilometers to the forest and a few hours later we were lost. As we passed through the foot paths of the forest created by people who felled trees in the place, I couldn’t help but feel the spirit of adventure rise in me. Finally after a few slides, several pricks by thorns, crawling through thickets, we finally made it to the bottom of the valley where river Rupingazi flows. At first the feeling was exciting, as I had found a safe place (despite there being no mobile reception), a place where all you could hear was the river’s water angrily hitting the rocks creating waves…this is the safest place on earth; or so I thought. The place we had descended was quite far from the waterfall so we decided to wade our way through the river waters, upstream to the falls. This is where my series of events started to unfold.

In a span of four hours, I was to be reminded thrice that my life is dear. As we were starting our wade, two of my friends ambushed me and pretended to throw me in (a joke that I told them never to play on me again). They held my feet and let me slide on a rock, my head touching the angry waters of the river…they burst out in laughter amid my screams for help…I stared at the water below and started shedding tears…at this point; I shut my eyes and said a prayer as I thought of how people would find my body, in case one of them let go. I thought of most of my loved ones. They pulled me up and I honestly felt like throwing them in!! A few meters into our wade, I slipped on a slippery rock and fell. I hurt my hip and landed on another rock…as I sat there waiting for the pain to subside, I looked at the waters all around me then again, I saw myself being carried away by the waters, and them finding my body downstream. I said another prayer…this time, a confession.

With these two shakes of life at the back of my mind, I joined the others in the fun; we took pictures, laughing and smiling, oblivious of the fear creeping up. At this point, our pairs of jeans are wet and we are hungry. We identify a wide rock upstream where we would sit and eat the snacks we had carried. We were almost there when we decided that the water was too deep and moving too fast. The men found their way there but we the ladies declined to risk, so they came back. As we were having the snacks, I joked about it being the last supper (since there were some red liquids involved). I was quickly corrected by my friends and we stuck to the first supper. As soon as we had had the last glass of berry juice, an old tree a few meters away fell from the walls of the valley into the river; we look at each other in disbelief!! It had fallen on the exact same spot where we had said we would eat at. At this point I was shaken…we look at each other again and the fear is evident…we could have been on that exact spot, had we not turned back. At this point we agree that we should be on our way up. We were shaken (one of us was literally shaking). The place I had thought was the safest place had thrice turned to a place where I saw my life flash in front of my eyes.

On our way up, I was so determined to get to the top, to get away from all the darkness at the place. We climbed up with so much energy; we got to the top in a record 20 or so minutes. It was not until I got home and took a shower, that the throbbing pain in my hip came back. We never got to the waterfall, but I left that place with a changed mindset. And looking back at it, I wanted an experience that I would never forget…well, now I know why they say “Be careful what you wish for”

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THE SON OF AN AFRICAN MOTHER.

At dawn, I rose, and headless we were.

Mother said he ditched us,

Went to look for greener pastures,

Pastures greener than the green card he had;

So manly of him!

Leaving his seed as well as the whole farm,

Giving up what he called his fam.

“You are the first born” he said

“A boy child, proof of my manhood;

Don’t ever shed a tear, African men don’t cry

I never did, and don’t ever ask why”

Pooh! Please!

“In my absence you are the man of the house”

You're damn right I am!

I will never leave my village,
I love my village,

You live with dignity, though your pockets are empty;

To hell with the city!

Its people are poor and backward,

Pulling each other down so that no one moves up!

I will find myself a girl, a woman.

A village girl, a village woman,

I will marry her, make her my wife,

Be the man my father never was!

I am the son of an African mother;

The man of the house;

They look up to my hands, huge rough hands,

Hands that polish handles of spades, knives and hoes;

Hands that dig yams, carry bunches of bananas, handle foes.

Hands soaked with sweat, hands full of tenderness.

Hands that provide; manly hands,

Hands of the son of an African mother,

The man of the house.

I work at the farm, as the wind moans, 
As the moonbeams cast shadows,

I work to feed my family, our family.

I feed, I keep. I protect, I own. I discipline;

Things a man ought to do.

Things my father never did.

I am the son of an African mother,

The Madiba of my Africa,

The man of the house.

 Befado

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MASHUJAA DAY TRIBUTE

Happy Mashujaa Day!! Well we all know today is Mashujaa day (in Kenya that is). Allow me to shed some light on this for those of us not in Kenya or Kenyans. Mashujaa day is the 20^th of October, a day that Kenya takes time to celebrate the heroes who fought for the independence of our nation. Mashujaa is a Swahili word that means hero. It was previously known by the name “Kenyatta Day”, named after the founding father of our dear nation Kenya. Mashujaa day is the day we celebrate not only the heroes who fought indefatigably for the independence of our nation, but also the heroes in our lives.

Having said that, this is a special tribute to a hero in my life (what? Wipe that smirk off you face, I have the freedom to! If you didn’t write your hero a post; well, it’s your loss!). Born a few years before me, he is the one man I have looked up to all my life. As a toddler, I watched him play with other children with envy. I mean, before I could walk, he would leave me in the house in the morning and occasionally come back to eat with some sweat on his fore head. He made me want to go out and play so much that my parents claim that I started walking and talking so early, thanks to him. I can also boast that the few soccer skills I know, he taught me. Yes, he taught me to play with my left foot, which we all know not many people can do, which helped me play for the teams I have played for, as a left wing striker. (Yeah, I’m bragging now).  He trained me those days when I used to do track events in primary school. He is still an athlete, in a way, and plays soccer for a local team.

 Ever since I can remember, he got prizes every prize giving ceremony for his hard work and sharp brain. I remember in primary school, they would award pupils who did excellently with chocolates after each exam; and guess who would have more than twenty bars, and guess who he would give half of them to? (If you answered “you”, as in, me; you are right!!). Watching him being awarded at every prize giving, from primary school to high school inspired me to work really hard to (if not for the goodies) make it in life. This, he carries on till today in university. He is the only man I know who has been scoring high academically since nursery school. (And he doesn’t study that much; darn!!) He inspires me do my best when it comes to books.

He is the first person who introduced me to poetry, art and music (he does not know this). Being a poet, artist (sketch artist and painter) and designer, he keeps encouraging me to explore art and occasionally asks me to accompany him to various art, music and poetry events (whoop whoop).  He speaks and writes English so good that even I at times cannot understand; I have to constantly consult my dictionary (those who know him can bear me witness) if asked, I would say Patrick Lumumba tries to impersonate him. 

He has always been by my side. He has the strongest spirit I know of, despite all he has been through (which is a lot). His life is an attestation that hard work pays. He is the only person who has been on and by my side since I came to be, my greatest fan. He has never missed any of my performances.  He inspires me to be me in so many ways. I have always looked up to him and I turned out good (if we don’t count my retarded nature). He is my Hero. He is my brother, Murimi Kareithi (or as his peers also know him “Croemaestrus”). The pioneer of the Kareithi Empire; the first of Kareithi’s offspring and the duke of Kareithi’s Monarchy. This is a tribute to my brother. You are my Hero.

As he keeps saying to me, so do I say to you on this day;  “Think, and let live; or die doubting” (don’t ask me what that means).

Happy Mashujaa Day!! Celebrate your hero today!!

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