Dear Daughter…

time.png

My intention to write this is as old as time! (How cheesy!).

I have typed and deleted this post not less than sixteen times in the last three years… Unsure, unprepared, feeling ‘not good enough’ and afraid of letting the world tread into my own battles. I go through tough times and think that I should let my daughter know that this path leads nowhere, she should try another route. I go through thought provoking sessions with a nod, occasionally smiling to myself and thinking ‘Wow, I’d love my daughter to know this; it would help her’. And for every wrong turn I make as a daughter, I take a mental note for my future daughter. I somehow have always found myself in this state: of taking notes and making hushed wishes for a child unborn. But with a life as flawed as mine, I have always held my thoughts for the fear of sounding like a botch too conversant with the script, obviously trying to make up for her mistakes by defining the path for her daughter: which would be utterly unfair.

But I feel ready today, more like I feel ready now!

(more…)

Gratitude series…

IMG_20171219_004121_528

Confession! Number 8 was reserved. But I have taken it for me. Not myself really, let’s call it a note from the editor in chief-ess.

When I heard the first Christmas Carole on the last day of November, it hit me that the baby in 2017 had grown to old age real quick and would soon be down, possibly in a grandiosely attended requiem mass to celebrate a life well lived…How time flies!

The gratitude challenge is my way of saying thank you.

Tourism

To the people who add value in my life, whose presence makes me better every day and whose work continues to make the world a better in the own special ways. To the people who journey with me in my daily life, through the highs and lows, the pain and the gain; and have believed in me in immense ways. To associations and institutions which have trusted me enough to accord me responsibility in one field or another.This is me taking a challenge to let people see themselves in my eyes, and to take the back to moments in time when their actions or words made a whole of a difference. To let them know that I bookmarked those moments and once in a while, I revisit them; with nothing but a grateful heart. This is me telling you that if I ever stood at the pulpit for you, ‘this is what I would say’.
(8 of 31- About the challenge)

(more…)

Freckles

To tell the story of happy endings without the struggles and choices that ultimately lead to the happy ending is elusion at another level. To tell the story of loving deeply and believing in the promise of an endless passionate love without appreciating and understanding that young love can be tragic and heart-breaking is deception. And yet as we grow old and grow up, we learn that we cannot avoid exposing ourselves to the tragedy because  love is as much a basic need as food, shelter and clothing. While some of us are lucky enough to keep spark of the young love all the way to the alter, most of us go through heartbreaks and tragedies that, even though injure our hearts, mold the same hearts into understanding the dynamics of loving and the routine of selfless love. Of acing the struggles and challenges of our relationships and living together ever after. (Possibly happily). We learn that in love, getting it wrong is part of getting it right…

***

I digress.

(more…)

There you are

I was in campus, young, aggressive and ambitious! I sat across the table in utter amazement; wondering what people did and how they did it to achieve half of what he had in twice his age. He had landed a dream job in a dream company right after his undergrad studies. And he was the type that bloomed wherever they were planted. He loved his job and his job and the bosses loved him too.

th

“Are you just lucky or do the stars simply align for you wherever you go? I mean how do you manage to achieve so much, so effortlessly wherever you are…”
I asked with a slight pinch of intimidation. His success story could easily intimidate anyone.

(more…)

Politically incorrect…

Image result for politically incorrectAnd behold we have the President of the Republic of Kenya. What a week! Allow me to take you just a few steps back, the weeks before the week!

For purposes of this post, we shall start by some quick definitions.

  1. An ordinary household– This was a household whose main political interest was either Baba, or the retention of Uthamaki.
  2. An extra-ordinary household– This is a household whose political interest was beyond the presidential ballot. One of the family members was vying for a political seat.
  3. Le famille extraordinaire– This is closely related to the extra-ordinary household. The only tiny detail I would like to add is that the person vying was independently contending. This is a family that had already gone through the first round of disappointment and was waiting for the second round with butterfly anxiety.

Please pick your household and proceed…

(more…)

The coulda boyfriend

realIn a world of perfection, the idea would have been to meet, greet, click, date, marry, live happily ever after. But we live in an imperfect world, marred with flawed people and flawed situations.  Between the meet and  happily ever after, we swing between coulda, woulda and  shoulda circumstances. Am I sure? Can I stand this? Who does that? What kind of girls has he been dating? He is so clueless it hurts…

So the magnifying lens is prominently on the coulda boyfriend today. This is that one boy who could have been your boyfriend if he behaved right; better than he does.

He puts in just enough effort to keep you coming back, he forgets just enough times to keep your patience, he lies just enough times in the pretext that he is ‘protecting you’ to make you remotely believe that he pro’lly cares about your emotions…he keeps just enough mystery to keep you curious: to make you want to unravel the mystery for your own satisfaction. He has mastered the art of keeping his options open perfectly enough to trigger you to put in work to try close the other options. (more…)

Diaries…of social media

socialWhat had started  as a casual relationship with social media became something serious when I started stopping by at least one social media platform once every day at a bare minimum. I was hooked, still am. 

***

In my daily visits, I made a world of virtual friends and idols. I took interest in what they were upto, and I selectively let them know what I was doing too. I liked them and they liked me too; I double tapped, and they double tapped right back. They reacted to my status and posts and I unfailingly returned the favor. I developed a special connection and interest with people I met in this virtual world and I enjoyed popularity in the virtual space. It follows that I developed a  shallow understanding of people’s circumstances that I so blindly believed.

love this girlIt is of such visits that I discovered one trophy couple: Daniel and Dannieller. But then one day I woke up to the news that they had broken up! How? Why? I felt cheated. I had looked at their life and admired it in every way. They looked happy, they went on holidays and publicly displayed their affection. He took time to appreciate her and confess his love for this woman who had taken his heart to a captivity he would gladly live  in for a lifetime. And she said he was loyal, smart, her dream come true and all the sappy sentiments a girl in love possibly could…. (more…)

Diaries…of imperfect perfections

fairest.jpgI met Raz back in 2003. A half Madagascan half Luyha girl with the body of a goddess. (I recently got that ‘body of a goddess’ line from ours truly).  I looked at her in adoration and ran to Winnie. “What can I do to look like her when I grow up? I want that body… hips like those, curly hair like that, same everything. But mostly the hips.  She laughed. “She’s Luyha. And besides, hips are determined by the pelvic bone. I doubt we have those genes’.  Everyone has a different body structure….She went on, but I was no longer interested in what she was saying. At 11, I had just discovered my body idol and nothing would stop me from getting such. The idea of an hour glass body became an obsession from that moment. I can’t say that boys were my motivation then; my head had not yet started reacting to their presence. I had not started getting the tingly feeling from boys’ stares which leaves your head feeling lighter and I did not even imagine that there would come an age when boys’ comments and opinion on my body would matter.  story for another day…All I wanted was that perfect body and height. I went through my teenage years and early twenties with that picture-perfect figure all in my head, waiting for the hour of body tranformation! 

But the giver of bodies had another design for me. In fact, he gave me the complete opposite of what I wanted. I grew up to be a small girl. I endlessly wished  I was taller, wider, more visible… I look back and realize that I always wanted to be more than I was. When it came to my body, I was never enough! My weight was never enough, I never left the presence I wanted to leave. My hair never turned curly, my hips never got the perfect curve I had in my head…and my height never went as high. I spent years waiting and hoping that I would bulge out. Then there was Granny who said I was sickly thin. It got to my head and I started eating like a pig. The only part of my body that responded to the heavy feeding was my fingers, they became nicely fat and evidently well fed. In high school, they teased that all my fingers were thumbs. In campus, they baptized them sausage fingers.  And they know how to stay loyal to those names: these fingers.

But it was in campus that I started learning how to accept my body. Mostly because 5-Ways-To-Finally-Get-Over-Your-Body-Insecurities-For-GoodI realized that every girl around me had a body struggle. Even the ones I thought were picture perfect in every dimension did have things they hated about their bodies. No one seemed  comfy with their body. There were those who complained of their tummies,(obsession with flat tummies), sometimes foreheads, sometimes big ears(IKR), uneven skin tone,mostly love handles, and predominantly small boobs/small hips.

Ironically, it was in campus that people would ask me what I did to keep such an amazing body. HOW?! Clearly they did not know the finer things in life if they considered my body amazing. I took the compliments on my body as blind flatters. Such is the reality. No one ever seems to be in perfect terms with their body. We are always looking for that which we feel that we are short of. Small girls crave to be big, the big ones sweat about losing their weight. There is the obsession with beach bodies, and the obsession of perfect curves. The desire to break necks just by passing by.

http---mashable.com-wp-content-gallery-famous-womens-quotes-about-body-image-oprah.jpgSo this goes to all the girls out there battling with body insecurities. When you love your body, it loves you right back…and the world retaliates in a hundred fold. All you need is to understand your body and know what to flaunt and what to keep in low key. You are imperfect, permanently and inevitably flawed. But tell you what, it is because of this that you are uniquely beautiful.

 

***

Up next>>>Diaries…of social media

 

Diaries…At my age

good-eI am guilty of having periodic attacks of ‘at my age’ disorder. As a typical mid-twenties millennial stuck between making the best out of her life, and doubting her capabilities just because her peers seem to be doing better. As a corporate baby struggling to strike a balance between settling in her career or pursuing other fields of interest. But most predominantly, as a girl trying to strike the delicate balance between her career, family, relationship and personal development. One moment I feel that I have it all figured out, the other moment it feels like I am stagnant… Either socially, mentally or spiritually.

I remember how it felt when one of my closest friends got engaged. I scrolled through the mind blowing photos with alternating shades of jealousy and excitement. She was 25! How does it feel? Are you ready? Are you sure? Goodness, we have grown…I sighed. She looked at me and teased…’who’d have thought I’d get married before you? What happened ma’?’ We laughed. My facebook news feed did not make it any better on that particular weekend. Of baby showers, engagements and weddings of peers. At 25 I was supposed to be married. Socially stagnant now…. I thought.

I have had replays of such conflicting tints of emotions on several other occasions. Just the other day, when my friend got a new job and called me to break the news with evident gusto, I was happy, really happy. As soon as he dropped the call though,  I yet again sank into self-evaluation. Had I resigned to fate? What effort was I making towards my career growth and personal development? Was I happy? Was I settled? What really did I want with my life and what was I doing about it? At my age, where had I planned to be? 

At least once every month, I battle with this disorder. I sweat small things, I make plans and forget about them, I set goals and miss the mark.  I have moments of self doubt every so often…Then I look at peers and for some reason, they seem to have it all figured out, they look as though they are doing perfectly fine. How do they do it at their age ?

***
A week ago, I came across this short piece, which I spoke to my soul…

AMA “At My Age”

Don’t ever allow your emotions to tell you what should be happening “At your Age”

At my age people have kids,  At my age people are married…

At my age people have licenses, At my age people have degrees and PhD’s…

At my age people are working,  At my age people have cars…

At my age people have houses!

That’s a disease!  YOU NEED TO LEARN TO SAY:

controlAt My Age God is with me! At my age God still has plan with my life! At my Age Abraham and Sarah were still fresh and waiting. At my age I am exactly where God wants me to be. At my age I am doing everything I am supposed to be doing to be where I am supposed to be. AT MY AGE God is my Refuge, God is my Strength, my Comfort, my provider, my everything. I refuse to panic until age puts me in a mental cage.

And so at my age, I choose to believe that I am right on track! And so should you!