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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TO NEW POSSIBILITIES, NEW YOU, NEW ME

“Babe, hebu read Isaiah43:18-19, that will be my guiding verse this year (2015) ‘¹⁸ Remember ye not the former things, neither consider the things of old. ¹⁹ Behold, I will do a new thing; now shall it spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.’"

Where are my manners? Happy New Year people!!! It may be two weeks late; but it’s still a new year. I hope the year has been good to you so far. Now, back to what I was saying. Ladies and gentlemen, that was the message I got from my one and only SB, a few days into the New Year. Now, you should have seen the excitement on my face as I read that message, the feeling in my stomach; like a thousand butterflies were trying to break free or chasing each other. Well, maybe it was because I was anxious of my exams which were just about to start. Nonetheless, I was excited.  Why? You may ask. Who does not receive a text from their loved one in the New Year? What is so exciting about a text? You may ask. Well, hold your horses. Afew days before that, I was setting my guiding verse for myself, and guess what, it was 2^nd Corinthians 5: 17-19;

^“17 Wherefore if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature: the old things are passed away; behold, they are become new.¹⁸ But all things are of God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and gave unto us the ministry of reconciliation; ¹⁹ to wit, that God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not reckoning unto them their trespasses, and having committed unto us the word of reconciliation.”

Great! How exactly does that concern me (reader)? You may ask. Well, friends and foes, you may join me is making 2015 a year of new possibilities and new lives, new you, new me. There is something that comes with a new year. That is why we all wait eagerly for it; we don’t want to sleep on the eve of the New Year; because we wait to see the New Year, to feel new, to experience the year that you have never experienced before. 

As this New Year begins, I purpose to have a new perspective of life. This is my resolution (yeah, I admit, I have resolutions). Let’s make this year a year that we make new achievements, break or make new records (spiritual, academic, social, physical, name it), a year to get over that ex that you have been struggling to forget; and find new love, new hope, move from that job that has been making you have ulcers; and find a better and new job, get rid of that habit that you have been trying to end, to let go of friends that have been pulling you back; and make new ones,  make new discoveries about your loved ones, new ways to love them, healing from that loss of a loved one and starting a new life, new you, new me, new hope, new levels. (okay, now I start sound like some overseas pastor I hear preaching in one of the buildings in town as I head home at school at 8 pm. Okay, he is either from overseas or Kikuyu; you know, Kikuyus imitate anything and everything that gives them an edge or vantage view by the public)

“Year right, so much hype you have, wait for mid year; not even then, wait for Feb. and see if you will be dancing to the same tune” I hear some of you say. But you know what? It all starts with the mind. If you tell your mind that you cannot do it; you cannot get over him, you cannot change, you cannot start afresh, you cannot let go, you will dwell in the past; trust me, you will never move forward.

A great and wise woman once said “you determine the elements of your life. You decide what you will or will not do, whether you will or will not change, whether you will grow or not. You also decide whether to be a mushroom that appears for a night and shrivels away at the first hunt of wind or heat or an oak tree, lasting and becoming stronger each passing day”.

This is my challenge to you this year. Let’s seek to have new possibilities; new lives, new you, new me. If you do it with a friend or loved one; the better. You will encourage each other and hold each other accountable when you feel like giving up. Let’s do this people, and toast to the New Year like my dear friend says here.

Happy New Year 2015 people!! Take up the challenge!
@deekareithi

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AN ARREST ( MY FIRST EXPERIENCE)

Ever been arrested? Either for the right or wrong reasons? Well if you have never, I beat you to it. Last evening to be precise. You may wonder why I’m so happy to write about it, just wait and see.

So, it’s Saturday evening, Skater Boy and I have come from training in Thika, we are now in Nairobi. We go at a hotel to have an afternoon snack as we watch a game. Here my already bad day got worse. See, I’m an arsenal fan and I had so much faith in Wenger’s boys for this game. Skater boy is a Manchester united fan (yeah makes the perfect couple). If you all watched that game you know too well how it went down. So, as we linger in there a bit longer as I drown my sorrows in food (we ladies know that food works so well, despite the source of sorrow). 

By the time we leave, it’s a bit dark. We decide to head to Central Park, which is at the center of Nairobi. The flood light at the center of the park is shining bright and the place looks too tempting. Wrong thought. Skater Boy and I are quite crazy, you see, so we agree to stand below the light and we start dancing. (Blame this on the “dance like no one is watching you”). It is a park, right? And people are walking past the park hurrying home. Us; no we had to. The day had been long and hard and laughter and fresh air was all we could think of.

We all know that all movies and books/novels list chasing each other across a field as a moment of…well, you know; a perfect moment.

Well, not in this one. We challenge each other to the nearest pathway and the winner gets to buy the loser some ice-cream (I was hoping to loose, but he beat me to it). At the end of the finish line that is the path, we find some people, cuffs at hand, waiting for us; talk about a bad victory reception. Just imagine Usain Bolt finding such a party at the finish line….sad.

So that is how we got arrested. We cooperated and they did not cuff us (thank God Skater Boy did not get very aggressive, you see, he is also a professional boxer). So we are taken under a tree where we find about 50 other Kenyans, some in cuffs. SB (Skater Boy) and I find ourselves a bench and we await the vehicle supposed to take us to a police station. We are all told that we were arrested for being in the park at “ungodly hours”. We are informed that people are not supposed to trespass the park past six; as he speaks, people are still passing by, but it seems like they had arrested enough people.

They tell us we will be taken to a police cell, expecting the men to resist so that they find a reason for arrest. Strangely enough, we all agree and we state that if the arrest is legal, we would like to record statements. They panic. See, these men introduced themselves as policemen warning us that they will fine us all. A lady at the back starts crying saying that her guy is not Kenyan, that he does not know the rules in Kenya. SB and I laugh. We take out our phones and start recording everything. We knew those guys were people extorting money from naïve and innocent Kenyans.

We pass by Kenyatta avenue round-about and our fears are confirmed. See, if you are to be taken to the police station/ county council cells, you do not turn right, as we did, and headed to Uhuru Park. Several of us started asking which police station we were being taken to and all we got was a “kuna wengine huku, mtakujiwa na lorry hapa” (there are other people here, a police lorry is coming to pick you up).

So we get to a place and find other 50 like so Kenyans sitting there, also waiting for the police lorry to come. Now, the retards that SB and I are, we go around greeting people asking them why they are there; all this time recording (thank you Sony Xperia for having a larger internal memory space). So by now it’s around 8 pm and no uniformed policeman has come. The leader of the gang tells us that they are willing to help anyone who does not want to go to jail. Here you see Kenyans who do not value their hard earned cash. Why do I say this? Some were giving bribes as much as 20, 000 to be let free. SB and I are still recording all this.

One of the “police men” suspects that we are doing this and asks us to sit in a secluded place. Thank God for friends who have friends in high places. I get the number of one of the anchors in Citizen TV and explain our situation and where we are being held; in a gated store area at Freedom Corner. The reporter gives Nairobi OCPD my number and he calls me. I explain the same thing and in a few minutes uniformed policemen are at the gate. Our other police panic and order us to get out, while those who want to “get assistance” to remain behind. We decide to go with the group that wants to be taken to jail.

Now we are two groups, half remained to “get assistance” and half of us knew our arrest was false and we wanted to get justice (and finish our recording). We demand to be taken to a police station. Instead of being taken to a police station, they start taking us upwards, towards All Saints Cathedral, several of our group run away and the fake police leave them. Now, funny is the conversation I heard between the uniformed police and the “police” who arrested us. This was actually a deal between the two!!! The other police even had walkie talkies that communicated with the actual police. Sad.

All this time I am informing the OCPD where we are being taken, and he gives an order for all of us to be released. Half of the group being “taken to jail” is let go. SB and I choose to remain behind. SB and I tell the remaining group not to give any bribes; our escorts hear us and we are pulled out of the crowd. At this point, we have gone round Uhuru Park and we are at Parliament road.  One of the “police” gets us aside to question us; why we were arrested, if we want any assistance. We tell our tale. He tells us he is forgiving us because we look innocent; we laugh.

He tells us to disappear and not get caught again, but we were not going to let him go that easily. We demand to see his police badge and he suddenly gets busy and his arms start shaking. SB and I look at each other and smile. He gets tensed up and gets his wallet out. He starts explaining to us that he is busy calling and we tell him we are patient. Now its a few minutes to nine. The uniformed police are busy taking bribes from other people in the group we were picked out from. The guy starts explaining how I don’t know who was killed where in the park, who was sleeping where and gibberish. We remind him that we are waiting to see his badge; he pulls out a number of cards and picks one out, one with his blood type, no name and no police number.

SB and I laugh and tell him that we know what they are doing and that he should let everyone go if he wants to be safe. Realizing that he has been busted, he gives an order to his people to let our group to go. They do. As we are leaving; His arms are still shaking. I tell him to be careful, some Kenyans are watching and they are talking. Our recordings are with us, a reminder of what innocent Kenyans go through.

It’s now 10 pm; SB and I walk into a hotel for coffee. Now his Manchester united game is over; and we never watched it. But they won, damn!! oh and I lost my precious ear rings in the process :-(

Now I am left to wonder; how many other people walk around masquerading as police men, extorting money from innocent Kenyans, as much as 10 to 20 thousand per person (real police men included)? And us Kenyans, when will we know our rights? Stop giving bribes for crimes you did not commit!!

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SPEAKING FOR FATUMA; LISTENING TO FATUMA SPEAK

The clock ticks 4 pm. Today is Friday. My 2^nd favorite day of the week (Monday is my favorite). But no day can beat this, no time can beat this, no event can beat this. Today, like every other Friday of the week, of the month, of the year; I will join great people in attending an event that has become an addiction to anyone who get the chance to attend it. It’s like falling in love with your best friend - once you fall, there is no getting up. And you fall so deep and you are sure you want to fall there forever.

I quickly make my way to PAWA 254 studio in Nairobi, Kenya. This is where it all goes down. Not only this Friday, but every Friday of the week, month and year (venues vary but it’s always there).  And the experience; wow! Only your wedding day can beat this!

I was on my way to attend #FatumasVoice. #FatumasVoice is a weekly event that happens on this and every Friday from 4pm-7pm. Why Fatuma and why voice? You may ask. Well, #FatumasVoice is a figurative gesture for a platform whereby young people meet to talk about the evils happening in the society and how they could solve them, their hopes for the future, their life experiences as well as networking hence expanding their social circles.

This is one event where one gets to experience poetry, live music, motivational talks (at times the tea and snacks offered are a motivation to me), and open forum discussions where people air their views on a certain chosen topic of the day.

#FatumasVoice was established with the objective of encouraging young people like us to know how to express ourselves, earn their self-esteem, improve their talents, be responsible citizens and to make us understand the value of networking. The founders realized that young people do not really get the truth about life in their homes, nor in the churches or mosques, nor in politics or their social quotas nor in themselves. They thus thought of something that will bring them (us) together to talk about important things that will help us mature. 

So far the bigger bunch of the audience is budding artists. Unsurprisingly, people from the working class are trickling in at a fast rate.This can be related to the moral support from a few people like Churchill Winstones and Bonnie Kim, who mentor the participants and founders.

Once you attend one event, missing it another time will feel like a break up. For those overseas or in other parts of the country, if you visit Kenya and particularly Nairobi (and it happens to be a Friday) you now know where to spend your evening between 4 and 7. Let’s meet there, let’s speak on behalf of Fatuma, let’s listen to #FatumasVoice

Here are the photo links to the previous sessions:

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=oa.568879929824812&type=1

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=oa.561279520584853&type=1

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=oa.561285497250922&type=1

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=oa.561282243917914&type=1

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=oa.561987300514075&type=1

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=oa.563593773686761&type=1

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=oa.565866683459470&type=1

for more on #FatumasVoice follow Kenya Poets Lounge on twitter(@PoetryHubKenya) or visit their site http://www.kenyanpoetslounge.com

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