WE ARE

We speak, we sing

Speaking for the dumb, feeling for the numb

Singing for the notes, quoting the quotes

Saying the unsaid, the unsay able

Swapping sighs with words

According words with rhyme.

Speaking from the heart, easing the hurt

Celebrating love, stripping the glove

Touching hearts of our audience

Provoking the auditor’s mind

We are the judges of the heart and mind, we sentence them.

We are the words, punctuations to emotions, we sentence them.

Proudly poetic,

Smugly artistic,

Wildly creative,

Exclusively inventive.

Factually inimitable,

Entirely incomparable.

We are the poets

Befado

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“THE TALK”

“I don’t want to hear of you making a fool of yourself with any boy in the neighborhood. If I hear anything, I’ll beat you up until you bleed.”

A mother and daughter were in a shouting match as I passed by their neighborhood. Apparently, the young lady, and soon to be woman, was receiving a reproach from her mother since the mother had heard the neighborhood trees whisper (I told you trees and walls have ears) that the daughter had decided to not only socialize, but also specialize. She had “fallen in love” with some young boy in the village.

I couldn’t help but wonder, is this today’s version of “the talk”. I mean that talk that your mother (or father, for the men) had with you when you came of age and adulthood knocked on your door? I for one, don’t remember my parents (sorry to say) sitting me down and having this talk with me.

To the African tradition, it was/is a taboo to have this “talk” anywhere in public; it could only be done in seclusion, with your age mates at a “seminar” somewhere in a remote village where you would pack your belongings one week beforehand. (Well I say “seminar” because that is what it was called, but it was not. It was just a gathering of girls who had to be kept away with the promise of being told some secrets about boys).  This seminar was all tiny girls who had just finished their Kenya Primary School Education could talk about in their last school days. In those days, if you were not attending the “seminar” after the exams (as the boys went for their lifetime ritual), you were not considered fit to graduate to Secondary school.

Now, this is the 21^st century, and gone are the days when parents (especially mothers) would hide all Human Biology textbooks from their girls, speak in parables or scold girls if seen with young boys as this mother was doing. It is a century that a child looses their innocence at a tender age (younger than 10 years, unfortunately and saddening) and the earlier we take the responsibility of having “the talk” with them, the better.

Young boys and girls are getting sexually transmitted diseases and pregnancy at a very young age and this is alarming. This should sound the alarm (if it has not yet dawned on us) that we need to have a talk about their sexuality. I say we because it is no longer the responsibility of the parents. You know they say, in Africa, it takes the whole village (or estate or housing blocks for those who reside in such) to raise a child.

So if you have a younger sibling or a neighbor’s child or a relative who is old enough to understand, let us have “the talk” with them instead of having heated shouting matches when you see him/her with that boy/girl. I know I will.

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THE SOLDIER

There he stands, on the battle line; he is always at the front line.

 In the battle he endeavors, Fights with valor, to win the favor, of his supervisor.

I love the soldier, yes I do, and I love the soldier.

Left and right, front and back, up and down, other soldiers fall,

They lay inert beside him, in the battle.

They fight a losing battle, but not him, He fights, and lives.

He lives to tell the story, the story of the intense combat.

I love to sit and listen, hear him tell stories, scenes of the theater of war.

His stories I find stimulating, motivating, exciting, provoking.

He has won every battle, every except one.

Obstinately he fought, determinedly wrestling,

He lost it, capitulated to this master, the heart.

 

I love the soldier, yes I do, and I love the soldier,

He lost the one battle I knew he would, he fell in love,

In love with the lady that is me.

I love the soldier, so much, coz he is my soldier.

Befado

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VALENTINES EVE

A young relative (I use relative since I am not sure whether he is my nephew or cousin) came to me and asked me “Aunt Dee, si tutakesha 13^th” (aunt Dee shall stay up all night on the 13^th)

My first reaction was laughter. I asked him why should we do that and he told me that since last year, he has seen us (relatives) as well as his parents stay up late on some “special” days of the year and thought that since 14^th is a day that so many people have talking about, we ought to wait till midnight for Valentine’s day to com. He called it “valentine’s eve”. 

This innocent question got me really thinking about it, really hard. Well on Christmas Eve, we stay up to midnight and wait for the special day that is Christmas and do the same for New Year. Shouldn’t we do the same for this day that celebrates our reason for existence; LOVE? 

We all know that there are some who will literally stay up late till midnight. Not because they wait Valentine’s Day, but because they dread it. The men, to start with, will stay up late thinking and stressing themselves out wondering if they got the right gift\present for their loved one or loved ones for the players). The ladies, on the other hand, will worry their way into midnight and past trying to guess what their better half will get them and laying down terms and conditions for accepting the gift.

Either way, I know my cousin\relative will have some company on valentine’s eve. So I offered myself to stay up all night with him, even though I am in school miles and miles away from him, I will stay up late with him. I know I will be studying and by 8.00 pm his innocent eyes will be asleep. When the clock strikes midnight, I will go around greeting people saying “happy valentine’s day”. We always do it on Christmas and New Year anyway.

Do have a loving and joyful Valentine’s Day

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HUNT THE HUNTER

I killed a mosquito, last night

Squashed its cadaver, in my hands

Does that make me, a poacher?

He was wild, right

And kill him I did, not just tonight

Every night, for the past decade

Does that make me, a hunter?

The poacher, hunter is he

Who kills tens, hundreds, thousands, millions of game

With mercenary selfish thoughts and plans

He kills them, regardless of their future.

He kills them, callously.

Skins them, professionally.

De-horns them, unfeelingly.

At the market, he dares boasts of his proficiency.

Time is up, time is now

Kill the game, save the game

Hunt the hunter.

Befado

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IS IT HUMAN NATURE?

The other weekend I was in a matatu (van) headed to town and I couldn’t help overhear a conversation between two men. This is the part that caught my attention:

Guy 1: I wish Kendi* and Stern* break up

Guy 2: Dude, why?

Guy 1: Because Kendi and I are meant to be.

And guy 1 went ahead to explain how his theory is true and prove that Stern was not man enough for Kendi. Well, that small part of their long conversation got me thinking. I discovered that THIS is exactly what most of us do and most recently (and as ever) our politicians. No, not stealing other people’s girlfriends (though they actually do) but the act of selfishness portrayed by Guy 1.

It is this same selfishness that engulfs our politicians. I will not even start on how they are pushing to award themselves millions of hard earned tax-payer’s money yet day in day out we have strikes by government workers who are underpaid. A lot has been said concerning that.

I was present during a political debate a while back with my inner circle of friends. The agenda of the debate was whom we would vote for, you know, we are a voting block (yes, the five of us). As the debate went on it was clear that some of the presidential aspirants (names withheld) would not get plenty of votes (Well I bet even they themselves know that too well). But instead of them gathering support for their friends who are most likely going to get majority votes.

Well there is the argument that they are gathering support for next election but seriously, now is now and next time is next time. 

Is it so hard to not think of oneself and think of the other?

 Is it too hard to sacrifice now for the benefit of another? 

Or some of us would rather fight a losing battle than let another walk away with victory? 

Is it really that hard? 

Or is it human nature, to be selfish?

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2012 THE YEAR THAT WAS

Wow, the year 2012 finally ended and we (I included) celebrated as if 2012 were a great enemy slain. Well, whether we liked it or not, it was a year with great and sad moments. We all learnt some great lessons in the year but these 5 stood out for me:

Seek ye first God

Well, we all know this scripture that says “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you.” In the year 2012, I did the vice versa, most of the time, seeking “all these things” first then coming back to seek God after the others have failed. This I learnt painfully but now towards the end, I realized that I had been doing it all wrong so, in the words of king James, I urge thee, seek ye first the kingdom of thy Lord, and all these things thou shalt be added...all.

Appreciate people.

2012 was the year I lost many of my close friends to the grim ripper(does he even exist, anyway) and it left me somehow shaken. So I learnt to appreciate people, whether real life best friends (hi Joe and Vivian), online best friends (hehehe Grace), big sisters (Brenda and Karain), sisters (Daisy), readers of this blog, my mentors, acquaintances, classmates and above all, my family. I love you all; you make me who I am. You never know when the grim ripper shall strike…

Appreciate criticism

Well, don’t we all get mad when that person walks up to you and says you did not do something right, or this thing that you have been working on for days or even months was not well done; well this is what I learnt in the year…positive criticism is good. It is what keeps me going. And time has taught me to appreciate and accept when I go wrong. Negative criticism…these are people who keep saying negative things just to let you down and discourage you. Well IGNORE THESE!!

Let the Fun be

2012 is the yeah I attended most weddings in my life and most well baby-holding occasions and most parties! If there is one thing I really enjoy, is HAVING FUN!! And I will look for any opportunity to have fun…and boy did I have fun! If there is one thing I can never get tired of doing is having fun! And I have to thank my crazy friends for accompanying me each time and having fun with me. Looking forward to more fun and crazy moments in 2013!

Finally

This list could not be complete without one useless or non-useful things I learnt. Scientists say that you have to CHEW BEEF 84 times before swallowing! Yeah I know, its absurd!…why would I do that? I chew beef at most 6 times…actually, I never even count! Would I eat or count?! Tsk! Now these scientists are too much!! But anyway, now I know. I shall never order beef when I go out on a date! Who wants to spend the whole date concentrating on counting the number of times you chew your food while you have a great date with you?!

Well, I am eagerly waiting for what 2013 has in store for me!! Whatever comes my way, I will enjoy 2013!! Hope you will too. 

Thanks again for your support!

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THE BIRTHPLACE

Send Gabriel to me, send him Lord,

Let him say t o me, “greetings, oh thou highly favored”’

Let this greeting, leave me troubled,

Let him then say to me, “be not afraid”,

Let me give birth to a kin of David.

No, let me be José,

Joseph, of course.

Fall in love with pregnant lass,

Taking her to the city with my ass,

To the inn.

Or rather, let me be the inn,

That has no room for him.

Wait! Mmmmh,

Let me be the manger,

For so long I have been in danger,

In danger of being thrown away,

As the hay, on my sides perfectly lay,

The birthplace of a king,

Who was, is, and is to be,

Born in me.

Befado

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PRESSURES OF CHRISTMAS

Well, well, well, Christmas is here. Yeah!! Pop the champagne, throw a party, cook dinner, visit places, have fun…but wait! Christmas is not the end of life. How now?

Just the other day, I was headed home with a friend and on the way home, we decided to stop by the streets of Nairobi to do some “mitumba” (second hand or "imports" as my friends and I like to call them) clothe shopping. We went ready, along the streets of Ngara. Shop we did, along with hundreds of other young Kenyans who frequent the area. We stopped at one stall (I don’t exactly know what they are called, you know, the wayside sales, I assume they are stalls with invisible walls).

After stopping for three minutes to admire some “button” earrings, I started feeling dizzy. My eyes became watery and I inhaled a stingy choking gas. I panicked. Rape and drugging came first to my mind. I turned to my friend and asked her if she was experiencing the same. She was worse. She had taken out her handkerchief thinking that her cold had suddenly become severe. We literally disappeared from the said “stall”.

This got me thinking, to what extents are people willing to go to earn an income this festive season? How many people are under pressure to buy that chicken (I have many Luhya friends), or that present, or throw that party and worst of all, host uninvited in-laws (and other relatives) with unrealistic expectations…

During this period, most of us are under pressure and where this pressure came from, I know not. When we were young, Christmas was special since it was just a community affair, no pressure to buy gifts, as long as the annual chapatti and kuku (Chicken) was present (and juicy cola for drinks). So whatever happens, I never feel under pressure to buy wrong and expensive gifts, just share the joy and laughter with family and friends….

Back to the shopping, I told my brother about it and he said that it must have been tear gas. Well, I’m not convinced, I believe someone was trying to drug us and steal from us to get off the pressures of Christmas.

Don’t give in to the pressures of the festivities. Remember, it’s your life. 

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR from the author's desk

twitter: @deekareithi

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KEEP LEFT

Christmas is finally here, and this reminds me of one strange experience I had with my Family. I am sure they can all attest to this: see, we were overjoyed since this long awaited trip to Tanzania had come. We had visited almost all sites in Kenya, and now it was time for Tanzania. We started traveled by road to Tanzania at night and stayed at Arusha. On the second day, we decided to visit Tanga, one of the towns in Tanzania with several historical sites and national parks. We had not bought a map and we depended on our phones for the GPS signals (yes, smart phones existed then, thank God). 

We were headed to a destination we did not know. We started asking for directions from the police, at gas stations, and from fellow road users. Wrong decision. Since Swahili is Tanzania’s National language, we had a problem understanding them because well, you see, in Kenya we speak “broken” Swahili.

We asked one lady in particular to guide us and help us know where Kilimanjaro National Park is. She got into our car and we started the journey, excited that we had finally found help. My father is not a fast driver so the lady kept on saying “kaza mwendo ama tutachelewa” (drive faster lest we get late). I kept asking myself why she kept on telling us to drive faster and we wanted to see sites on the way...tsk!

The first warning sign, which we did not notice, was when she asked us to drive into a street that had a “NO ENTRY” sign. Blindly, we drove in. we were surprised see police on motorcycles following us. We did not know why till they told us that they would arrest us for breaking the law. The lady, lucky for us, talked to him and explained that she had led us there.

Then she intended to ask us to turn after a roundabout and she said, “ukipita keep lefti, wewe vunja mkono na ukeep lefti” (when you passed the roundabout, join the road on your left.) by then, none of us knew what she was saying so we passed the junction to the National park. She kept mum.

After traveling for two hours with her constant “kaza mwendo”, we decided to ask her how far it was since it was getting late and we had to go back to our hotel at Arusha. That was when she broke our spirits.

“kutoka hapa si mbali, mtapanda juu ya huu mlima, hapo mtaweza kusaidiwa zaidi. Mimi nashuka hapa. Nimefika nyumbani.” (It’s not far from here, just go up the hill and you will get help there. I have arrived at home, so I will leave you to proceed).

Oh the anger that filled us!! How dare she use us to get her a lift home? And from what we learnt on our way back, the junction the we had passed was the right way to go! We felt wasted, but we had learnt a valuable lesson. We pledged to trust our phones only or buy a map. 

I certainly hope this will never happen again...or do I? I hope it does, it was great!! I wonder what will happen this Christmas!!

Twitter:@deekareithi

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TABU ZANGU

Lately I have been thinking, a lot. Thinking about the “After Life”. Well this is an area that most people would tell me not think about. Even the so called optimist strongly advocate against this. Who said that thinking about after death is thinking negative? I think of it as hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

What triggered these thoughts? You may ask. No, it’s not the passing on of a loved one or a preaching, but a song. The song “Tabu Zangu” by one Rose Muhando and Anastasia. Hence this entry is named after the song. It is a song that has become my morning and evening dose. The song, for those who have listened to it, talks about what we, (I included) hope will happen when we pass on. This song encourages me in the walk in salvation which am sure most of you agree, is not a walk in the park. In fact it’s a walk in an erupting volcano...like you can't touch the walls coz you will get your fingers burnt and all.

So before that day comes, I have so many things I would like to do. So many dreams, some written down some still in soft copy in my mind, but the bottom line is, I would like to do most, if not all of them. I don’t want to run out of time. So every day for the past one month, I have been doing something different. I have been doing something for the first time, something I have never done. Ranging from greeting people I have never greeted,  visiting people I have never visited, calling people I have never watched and well, watching a movie/series I have never watched (yes, that too). And I would like to challenge you to try it too.

So, someone may ask, at the end of it all, the “after life” will still come. So why do all that? Truth is, I know that day will come. And when that day comes, expected or not, I will have enjoyed my life. The most important thing I am however working on is my spiritual life. That song helps me to “Keep on Keeping on”. Knowing at the end of it all, not only is it for God, but it is also for me. And I will live to my fullest for both.

By the way, no matter which century I will pass on in, please remind them to play that song in my funeral and burial.

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A MOTHER’S JOY

A few months ago, I held a new born baby. A tiny, sweet, handsome man that belonged to one of my friends. His tiny fingers tightly gripping my finger, his sharp nails (by the way, the nails of the tiny ones are usually very sharp) softly pricking my neck as I held him to rest on my shoulder. I smiled. A true and genuine smile, from deep within. It was a breath-taking moment for me. As I held the young one, I swiftly shifted to my fantasies.

I get invited to many baby showers and my joy is not even in the food (though I don’t mind) or the socialization, but in seeing and holding someone that has been delivered to this earth for the very first time and well, say “welcome to the world baby”. Also, I delight in watching (and learning from them), the mothers protectively hold and hug their own…mmmmh mmmmh mmmmh.

As I watched mother and son bond, I was really touched. I shed a tear, no two. I mean, there can never be enough words to express the sweet relationship and bond between a mother and a child. I was taken aback by this. No matter what circumstances the child came through, a mother will always find joy in her child or children.

The mum lay the young babe on her chest and the young one just slept there, on her, his head resting on the place where her heart is and just slept soundly…(yeah, its soothing). However, I am not saying that the fathers don’t bond with their young ones, but that of a mother is much more deep, much more…..more intense, profound. And to those who felt or still feel that their mothers do not love them, well they do a lot

As I think about it all, I can’t wait for my own young one to come (actually I can wait till then). He/she will be greatly loved! I will jealously love him/her and others will also be jealous. I just envision it and can already feel a mother’s joy in my heart.

A mother’s joy IS in their child.

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THE FALLEN

Boom! Thump!

A mother is rushing,

The walls are crushing,

Wails all around.

The victims we surround,

The screams, cries are loud,

The father, mother, sister, brother,

Victims of another’s blunder

As we stare and ponder,

Why kill your brother?

Where is the love?

Where is the love?

For the victims of Eastileigh

For the victims of Bargoi

This is Kenya,

Let's live together,

Loving each other.

For the sake of the fallen.

Befado

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SORRY by LORRAINE PHIKELILLAH

Being sorry can be very hard when we're overwhelmed with pride,
But sometimes our pride must take a fall before we lose out,
And when we have to say sorry we should mean it from our soul, A meaningless sorry is like a broken promise to the heart.

 And it only hurts more in the end, bringing bitter resentment,
And leading to the loss of a love that should be eternal,
Bringing us back down to earth from the fairytale world of our mind,
With a pain that is maddening, physical and sometimes critical.

My heart is weeping tears of blood for the pain that I've caused you,
And it's crying out my apologies to your mind,
Pleading for your forgiveness for my unfortunate outbursts,
I never meant, in a million years, to be so unkind.

I have made mistakes in the past but never as serious as this,
And I know I will only have myself to blame ,
And that scares me more than I've ever been scared in my life,
For you're my true motivation, the only real thing in which I believe.

And all that's left for me to do is say sorry in a sincere way,
With an apology that comes from deep inside my soul,
It's all I have left to offer for your love and your loyalty,
It's just a pity that my own loyalty, I couldn't hold.

So please take time to think about what I've said, as it comes from the heart,
Take time and try to forgive me my failure to deliver,
................................................................."s"

© Lorraine Phikellilah. All rights reserved

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THE EAGLE

I see him,

Stout legs, strong feet

Sharp talons, hooked bill.

I feel him,

Large, broad, strong wings,

Sharp, piercing eyes.

He spots me from a great distance,

I cover my chicks in an instance,

His eagle eyes on my young ones,

Ready to swoop low, in an second or so

Ready to rip the flesh from their tiny twisted bones.

He thinks I can’t see him,

But I do.

He thinks I can’t fight him

But I will.

He thinks he can steal my nestling,

But he won’t.

I will fight, protect, and support my pullet

From the assault of an eagle,

Any eagle, the eagle.

Befado

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