Tomorrowland 2013 | official aftermovie

A new chapter...

I remember when I first read The River and the Source. The TV had just blown up and I was bored out of my mind. Bored children are a nuisance to their parents so my mother gave me this book, which was the current set book in high school at the time. I took it up immediately and I was introduced to Akoko Obanda.

Akoko happens to be one of the strongest women characters I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. And I read extensively. She was a trail blazer who, while respecting the culture of the land, was not afraid of the unknown. She was beautiful, spirited and a formidable opponent. Her temper! Legen-wait for it-dary! One of my favourite lines from her was, “I would not trust your uncle Otieno although he is as black as the bottom of the pot I boil maize and beans in.” If you’ve seen those big pots in the village and how darkened they are by soot, you understand why that statement always cracks me up. She was the very definition of fearless and I wanted to grow up and be just like her.

Ten years later and I still haven’t yet grown up! I’m 23 years old, still in school, still single and still staying in my mother’s house, still relying on my father for my upkeep. I don’t know about you but that is the very definition of a child. Which is worrisome because by this time Akoko was married with her first child and dealing with her meddlesome in-laws. She’s not the only one, because the percentage of girls in my age cohort that I found in Ante-natal clinic, labour and maternity ward was overwhelmingly large. There’s also a large number of my very own classmates from high school and primary who are already moms as evidenced by the increasing number of baby photos as profile pictures on facebook. It’s such a rollercoaster between a mushy moment and a barf-fest. I’m sorry but it is, especially when they insist on shoving it down our throats how happy they are how their babies are their best mistakes and how the rest of us are missing out on the joys of motherhood. Sometimes I think they try to convince us so that they can convince themselves. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s the bravest thing to have a child especially when you’re still an adolescent and still figuring out life as you go along, but I would rather see pictures of my friends going to amazing universities and doing amazing jobs coming up with exquisite campaigns and being trailblazers in their own fields, like Judy who is on her way to the Forbes list. If Akoko was around today I’m sure she’d be heading her own company by now, I kid you not. Read about her and tell me you don’t see her in that corner office.

Speaking about Akoko, it was a sad day in my life when I realised I couldn’t be her. Why? Simple. I’m me. I can work just as hard but I like to rest too. A recliner on a deck with an ocean view and a glass of Johnnie on the rocks is my ultimate kickback day dream. I worry too much about my next move and the idea of change can lead to a major mood storm before I conform. She was a straight up go-getter, I have to talk to myself for days before I try a new direction. Or I irrationally do something before my mind finds a way to negate it. She followed through with all she did. I can’t even finish tooting that horn before I lose interest. She looked at her husband dead in the eye when he came to ask for her hand in marriage. I would hide myself behind a pot of plants before I would let myself talk to someone I fancy, okay that was definitely hyperbole. I wouldn’t hide but I do know there’s a beauty about walking on the opposite side of the path. Akoko was the ultimate and I’m a work in progress.

A work in progress. A phrase that best describes where I am right now. I do have my own vision of how the future me looks like. The doctor. The wife. The mother. But I do remember a quote that mentioned God laughing at our best laid plans. Judging from my past and present I’ve given him a bucket load of laughs and I don`t think I’m about to stop any time soon! I’d figured by the time I was in fourth year I would have settled so many sectors in my life. More time spent at the hospital, literally living away from home, confident in my medical skills done with the raeving scene and I would have at least that one guy to always talk to about everything. Yet here I am, moved back home, not sure if I’m making it to fifth year next year, still dropping branula lids and not a love interest in sight.

That might seem like such a sorry state but I’m happy. Confusing is it? I did say I was a work in progress, didn’t I? Let me paint a picture for you. Picture your breaking point, now picture mine, my previous post tries to colour it all out for you. I was miserable and my family was worried. I stayed at home and within a few days I could feel the old Diana come back. You know what I love about family? They know you but still can’t get rid of you; they love you and build you up. I started to slowly come around and I reconnected with my family and it became harder and harder to go back to Ngumo. The house isn’t a bad incentive too. So I stayed.

Two was when my father fell sick. I rushed home to make sure it wasn’t anything serious. Now I lost my uncle last year and calling it a shock is an understatement. He died way before his time and right now my father is the last surviving male in his nuclear family. He misses all his brothers and father terribly. I am terrified that he might leave us unexpectedly just like my uncle Chris. I stay at home to spend as much time as I can with him and at least sleep knowing he’s just a few doors away. Plus he’s the best in terms of giving advice, you know the older you are the wiser you become and so on and so forth. The man works harder than anyone else I know, and that’s saying something since I spend most of my days with academics and monkey see, monkey do. I’m still waiting to reach my old man’s momentum though.

I fell in love with the hospital again, specifically obstetrics, the non-examination part of course. I enjoyed that rotation, enough to literally hang around pregnant women giving my pregophile tendencies free reins. My only problem is why we don’t make enemas part of basic obstetric care, like in a mini- section… no, I’m not letting it go! I still need to go back and I’m not so worried because medicine is learnt and lived for a lifetime.

The hallways at King Georges hospital have never stopped being crazy and the fact there isn’t that one main guy to talk to doesn’t deter me one bit! I’ve been blessed in another way that I’m now just beginning to appreciate, all the boys, sorry men, who are not ashamed to call me their friend! We can talk about anything, crack jokes and still sit down and study seriously. I have a whole gang of male friends which for the first time in my life feels a tad overwhelming. And cool. Really cool, it’s cold! Genuine bromances are sweet to watch too and I get to see them daily, here’s to you Twiri and Owen. If Akoko met all these men she’d have them as her friends too, though I’m not sure whether it would be appropriate to her. She’d break the rules though, because she’s that amazing! I should know, I hang out with them.

 I continue to make my path everyday with the greatest lesson I’ve learnt so far is being able to love myself. Love myself and understand that I’m going to make mistakes. Daily. It can get tough, it can get worse but it will end. It does. Not forgetting that getting myself back up after a fall is what’s the most important to do, and a pretty pair of heels may be just around the corner waiting for me! The road to womanhood has never been more chaotic than is mine, but God damn it, it’s mine…

Birds, sugar, butterflies, rainbows....Fuck that shit

Whoever said that there’s light at the end of the tunnel must have been on some weird form of crack. I’ve been waiting for that light for the longest time and there has been nothing, not even a struck matchstick. Now before you all start calling me up as most of my good friends are wont to do. Relax, I’m not whining again. I’m not even going back to the really dark place I was at some weeks back. All I’m going to say is that I’m adjusting to the dark. And there are some beautiful designs right here.

Being in a bad place is awful. What’s worse has to put up a front for the world to see. Because ain’t nobody got time to deal with your depressed ass. And there are people who have it worse!!!  So you really have no right to mope around like a half decapitated corpse. Thus you self medicate- Trying to remember positive things, giving yourself little goals like getting through a whole day, trying to live like a little hippie, giving yourself funny little slogans. Then you keep yourself really busy. Busy enough to not think. Thinking hurts. Thinking leads to dark alleys. We all know my perpetual fear of alleys. Thinking leads to heavy hearts and weak bodies.

Have you ever flogged a dead horse? Me neither, that’s animal cruelty. Animal necro-cruelty (cause they’re dead). It felt something close to it though. Have you ever met someone so bloody positive it makes you want to punch them? Just so you could remove that stupid grin and that aura of positivity from their essence? Then we can both be miserable together- the perfect ambience. Telling yourself half-hearted positive shit ends up being just that- a big bowl of shit. I would get so angry sometimes it would be overwhelming. The night ending wasn’t helping either, because it would mean human contact again. So much human contact, when all you want to do is curl in bed and not move for a really long time. I kept wishing I could freeze time; everything at a standstill; then I could scream for eternity and walk away.

I hate disappointing people, including myself. However the past few months have been a whole big dollop of disappointments culminating to the big cry out in the ward. I refuse to be ashamed of it though and everyone should cut me some slack about. Restrained stress always ends up in a dramatic release, and with Diana Abuodha, theatrics are never far behind. You can’t please everyone I know, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. It gets worse where leadership is involved. After the amount of critics I had post-high school, inclusive of a former friend, I always strive to be a more ‘democratic’ leader. What I learnt, is that the fourth form captain and the paediatric representative is that they both had their own set of challenges, and both did have their own depressed moments. However the paediatric one has been more emotionally challenged which is weird because of the expected age- maturity status and has literally been on the verge of a mental breakdown. This has been due to the progressively high output failure that I’d been courting for weeks. I mean how do you read so much and the output not reflect it? It has caused anxiety attacks in many a moment these few months. The fall into oblivion has been slowly inevitable without much awareness.

It’s hard to do that when you have the most amazing friends around you, who would go through any lengths to help you. If you just ask. I couldn’t. Everyone had so much to deal with and in reality dealing with both that and me would have been out of their depth. I loved them too much to burden them with what seemed to me at the time to be a kaleidoscope of worries, fears and attacks on my psyche. It’s no wonder my immune system was so vulnerable. The only time I felt some relief is when I developed some form of apathy to life. I didn’t want to live anymore. I don’t mean seriously offing myself, though I can’t fully rule it out, I mean I didn’t want to participate anymore. I didn’t marvel at life anymore and laugh at its inside jokes. From the moment my eyes opened all I looked forward to was closing them again.  I just maintained a routine. It was expected. Anything out of the ordinary would have raised eyebrows, leading to questions. Lord knows I hate probing questions. I thus allowed myself to die internally whilst maintaining an outward appearance. Dying is really a simple business once you decide to just embrace it. It’s kind of scary how happily I adapted to this form of life, how little scenarios of quaint deaths filled my mind at times. I still had that little obstinate bulb of optimism that things would get better, given that one element-time.

Time is all I have these days. It’s the one thing you’re granted and yet easily taken away from you. Weird, right? As I said earlier, I’m still in a dark place, but it’s not so bad anymore. There are some beautiful designs playing out right here I’d never paid attention to.

Mementos; Struggles; Confusion

I’ve been dreaming incessantly lately. Different realities with their different timelines. We all stare at each other in different mirrors. I slip into normalcy in whichever dream I slip into. It is so easy to choose this route, none is wrong and every decision is right. I’m only awake for a few hours of the day, when everything is quiet. The night is such a forgiving time, never judging nor imposing its expectations on you. It calms me down, letting me slowly peel off every skin holding me in bondage.

I dream of your broad dark shoulders. The little scar on the broad of your back, imprinted on the back of my mind. A memory my hippocampus stole from my occipital lobe. Only returned when needed. Always when my eyes are closed. How did it get there? When? The events surrounding that day, what were they?

They say nothing is new in this world. If so, then why do we live? What are we doing here if everything that we will do has already been done? Is every thought a reproduction of someone else’s mind? The blood that courses through my veins, is it really truly mine? What if there’s an exact replica of all my cells respiring in some other body form? Were we just born to die? To propagate the same fucking gene through the ages? We recycle so much in this life, our books, our fashion and even the gender roles that ‘society’ dictates. I tire as easily as I am motivated. My friend would quip that I was born in the wrong era. I don’t think so. With more than twenty centuries already passed, it excites me to traverse the past. Like entering archaic ruins and imagine them when they were once whole. Where they held conversations, wrote letters, triumphed or failed. Where they fell in love and ended long term friendships. I believe if you go far enough, you’ll end up exactly where you began.

I see the rays filter in through the wind on an early afternoon, the dust speckles dancing in circles, revelling in their daytime ball. Most of the dust in homes originates from human skin, did you know? I smile and continue to whisk the batter in the bowl, enough with these questions. I feel a touch on my ankle length skirt and look down at the little boy, happy to be near his mother. My little dark skinned child. Swooping down to steal a kiss, I continue whisking, singing, and staring at the afternoon sun. Don’t we both just love it? Yes Diana, I know you’re here, go back to your present. Live a little.

I’ve been looking for words. They had left me you see. I found some of them in letters. Letters full of humour and life lessons. Letters with stories to make you laugh and others will render you numb with pain. Letters that make you question or strengthen your faith. Letters with scrawny scratchy handwriting and others had written using typewriters. Reading them, I instantly wished the Post office was still relevant and not just for high school students love letters and success cards. I still don’t know how to actually post a letter. I think that’s sad. It kills me that there’s a generation that is intent on mutilating the language, expecting us to follow suit. It enrages me. I fight with my sister all the time about this. I enrage her. Our back and forth texts are our constant fights for dominance. I will win eventually. Or will she? Will this attempt at relevance by the younger generation endure? Or will they soon join the rat race and bend to ‘the man’?

I found more words at the drums of Shostakovich. I lapped it all up with glee. I was amazed at his easy flow with them. He played around with them and bedazzled you with even bigger words. Words you never expected in literary discourse, words that made you feel like you were still in elementary school. You had to be quiet, the big boys were talking. I was filled with envy. They were not even my words, those that had abandoned me, the heartless bastards. He was so raw, so very raw with them that I would blush at the very indecency he used them. I let myself swim in his world, burning with envy and wishing to steal them and run away with them. Was it Picasso who had said that great artist steal ideas? However I didn’t dare. They were his. They could never be mine. We wouldn’t fit. I had to find my original words I understood that but first I wandered in his land. It was only when Hillary reminded me repeatedly to write again did I finally pack my bags. So we have Hillary to thank for the first step. Thank you Hillary! I looked for them where they first disappeared. In my very own mind. I’ve teased, threatened and bribed it to give them back. Slowly they came, reluctance in their stead. They came in snippets, while I napped, while I walked, while I listened to music. I would whisper them back and savour them as they echoed through my very being. I would write little notes and leave them alone. Type a few lines on a Microsoft word document, delete them and sleep content. They were coming back. They were back. I guarded them jealously, I wasn’t sure if they were strong enough to hold on their own in this world. The Coke band changed everything. I don’t know how he knew I was just stalling. I hate being given something I do not deserve. He’s shoved me to action.

I’ve been throttling her repeatedly in my dreams. She keeps showing up acting like we could renew a friendship. Doesn’t she know bridges have already been burnt? She lit the match but I fanned those flames. I have no interest in building new ones. I don’t have the budget for it. The cost of cement, sand and stone is high and I cannot afford the labour. Her pseudo-piety is what infuriates me the most, acting like the protector of good morals. What are these good morals? Who labelled them good? She dared to hurt one of my friends I wringed her neck, she dared to offer him to another to love, murder became my intent. He is mine.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I intended to stay away from him. He shows up and I follow. Is this how iron feels in the presence of a magnet? There’s something about him, around him that appeals to me. So many have tried, keep trying and I second guess myself. My heart still looks around whether or not my mind respects them. My body is tame, a passive viewer in the festivities. He shows up and nothing works right. My body betrays me. My mind- numb, my heart-content, my soul tags at his mercilessly. We fight for dominance. This is new to me. A man who defies me as openly as he’s pulled to me. A man who makes me want to rule and be ruled. A man whose future is too bright, how does he not see it? He hides his goodness, I wonder why. I want to take care of him. I want to tell him every day that he’s going to make it big in his life. I want to tell him to stay. This has to end. It’s becoming ridiculous this angst. I’ll take care of myself now.

It’s my friend’s birthday. Or is it mine? Definitely my friend’s. We threw a surprise party and are having an amazing time. I’m dancing. I’m always happy dancing. I make all my friends join me, clapping in glee. I am experiencing that buzz that one only gets from alcohol. God knows what I’ve taken. A hand stretches over to me, turning round I extend my own hand to his. Who else but him? I hug him tightly as he laughs at me. He tells me he’s back. I look at him and hug him again. His shower scent, yes, it’s him. I’m sure of it. I’m not dreaming him up, am I? I don’t care. I’m home. He’s home.

I love my family, my culture and my country. The elections really brought the ugly side of some of our friends. We failed to respect each person’s opinions. We all wanted to protect our personal interests, covering our own backsides. Elections were so sensitive an issue that we’ve chosen to bury our heads in the sand for the sake of ‘peace’ without actually addressing the underlying issues. When will we be able to talk frankly without offending each other? We all saw how we voted along tribal lines, yet there were small pockets of hope in the name of radical voter in some areas. Voter apathy may arise after this due to the feeling that nothing ever really changes.

 The Old Guard are trying to sneak themselves into the new government. There is this perverse political ideal of ‘It’s our time to eat’ perpetuated in the country. When did a post of public service become a seat of financial windfall? I tire easily after reading the newspapers or watch the news. Bikozulu put it the right way, there is no problem with being proud of your tribe, it’s the stereotyping and lack of tolerance coupled with bad tribalism that leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth.  A friend of mine thinks that what we need is a civil war. I don’t think so. War begets war. War brings about a cacophony of problems; never solving the initial issue. What we need are radical thinkers, voters who think for themselves, leaders who are accountable. People free from the country’s baggage that it seems everyone carries, maybe that’s why we don’t walk with our backs straight, our heads held high. It’ll only work if we don’t let this bile fester in our hearts, spilling it to our babes while they still lie on our bosoms. For haven’t we heard some of these stories and stereotypes from the mouths of our very own parents?

A yoga mat rests on a stripper pole, a complimentary contrast. I’m busy sketching lines on drawing paper. Lines that want to tell a story, hopefully showing an inkling of what I envision. Smoking a joint seems to give the scene such a risqué view, yet it’s what is needed to complete it. That and the man shirt and socks I’m busy moving around in. Brushes, pencils and pens lie all over but have nothing on the books in the room. Books lay everywhere. Pages open in some, others closed. The balcony doors are fully open bringing in the warm breeze, the lace curtains welcome it. Enya plays in the background. Again she shoos me away. Diana I can’t draw with someone looking at me, surely you know that!

Of taking risks and third wheeling...

First of all, SALUTATIONS!!!!!! Since being shipped off to our ancestral lands, an internet connection has been slightly hard to come by. After failing repeatedly to guess my father’s laptop password (yeah, we all tried and all our guesses failed!) I have been forced, forced I tell you, to ask for the laptop. Downright asking people! I would have like to say that it took several hours, sore knees, empty promises, and hoarse voices to get it. Throw in one or two tantrums, but nope. Actually it was quite simple, just

“Dad, can I borrow your laptop?”

“What for, you want to surf?”

“Yes, but first I have to write a document.”

“Oh, okay.”

JUST LIKE THAT! I’m still speechless. I guess it’s true what they say, men just need to be told what you want and they’ll give it to you. Hmm… who knew? New lessons learnt every day.

Back to me, so the other day whilst waiting for my already late friend to show up for an afternoon excursion (I’m English like that) I popped in to a restaurant kill time. Let’s be honest, there are very few places in town where you can just bum and still look sophisticated, or with it, or not a Nairobi jobless nigger or pickpocket. If you do know such places, please help a sister out! Anyway after discovering my friend was going to be uber late whilst I was already at the very place we were to meet, I was at a dilemma. Where to go, where to go… Already being on Biashara Street I thought of going, guess where…the Lifestyle lounge. Do not ask me why I didn’t think of Greenview fish fingers or that Lifestyle Lounge has been closed for some time I DON’T KNOW! All I was thinking of was some beef I had once had at the Lounge and that’s its balcony was safe for people-seeing at a table for one. Yes, I am not afraid of eating by myself, a girl’s gotta eat, especially when she’s craving a particular dish and doesn’t have time to go through her phonebook looking for company. Well, needless to say reaching there and meeting a closed Lifestyle Lounge merited a plan B, FAST. I did what I could only do at such short notice, move forward to the other eateries on the street. DO NOT ask me why Greenview didn’t pop up in my head!

Picture that street- I forget its name- where Nakumatt Lifestyle and Galitos are. Where that famous guy who hawks socks is found. Where there’s the furniture shop which has the big circular bed which I have a feeling can revolve round if you want and it has so many little drawers and the shop owners rarely dress it with a nice colour scheme! I think MKU is located there, or is it Multimedia? Okay we all have a good idea where I am. I didn’t want fast food, so cancel all the fast food joints on that street. Now to the right of lifestyle lounge there are two places which serve ‘traditional African dishes’. The first place I didn’t like the colour of their seats, plus they were wooden therefore hard. I want my tooshy to be comfortable. I entered the second one for two reasons. One, there was no other restaurant on that street and I didn’t want to look lost. Two, the two men in front of me entered it like it was their usual joint so I trusted their silent walk of approval. The minute I stepped into the restaurant the waiter at the door welcomed me with a smile and a greeting in Kikuyu. Kikuyu, I kid you not. I kind of look Luhyia and that thought usually holds water just by looking at my legs, but Kikuyu? I almost turned back. I soldiered on, then that funky smell hit me. Every particle in my body was already out of the door and walking opposite the street to Galitos but my whole being was being seated at a table. I was weak. I couldn’t turn back. So I sat down and prayed that the food poisoning would get me at home. I ordered fried meat with rice. The waiter was really nice. Ordered a glass of juice to go with my meal. Then waited. With  bated breath. Like walking down a dark alley where you know there is a 99% chance you will be mugged but stubbornly making your bet on that 1%. You know what? That 1% won! The food was really good. So good that I decided to write about it! The food was fresh, the meat was really good. Like really good (picture my eyes all popped out and me nodding enthusiastically) The price pocket friendly, and the service made me smile.Bonus- No food poisoning! Well Gallrix Restaurant pleasantly surprised me. I was happy.

 The reason why my friend was late was because she had to pick up her hubby up first. The reason why I wasn’t mad was because I understood she had to spend some ‘alone’ time with her special guy, plus less time spent third wheeling. Which brings me to this- TACKLING THIRD-WHEELING.

Now when you’ve been single for as long as I have you will or have been involved in being the extra, the third wheel so to speak. I have been third wheeling since the time when boys and girls began to see each other no longer as enemies. Yes, since class seven. At first you resent it which makes you avoid it at all costs. Eventually, you don’t make such a big deal out of it, heck you even have fun at such moments. Here’s how...

First of all this is not for the faint hearted; neither is it for those wishing to leave the single life. If you completely detest such moments I suggest you DO avoid them because all you’ll do is seep your bile into the gathering and leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. So this is not for you. This is for the single girl who is pretty content in their own skin and their current relationship status. Plus you want to keep your friends and you might gain a new one too so no harm done.

1.       Be open: Yes, she’s coming with her boyfriend or he’s coming over while you’re hanging out at her place. You do not need to bolt. Well, sometimes you will have to if the situation calls for it. However most of the time it’s going to be a simple meet up. You don’t have to see yourself as an intrusion or he’s interrupting your girl-time. Think of it like meeting a new friend or an acquaintance who is going to be your friend. Do not act like a dog in a manger. Acting all mad and sullen. You can go with two options: go dumb and observe or talk like a parrot and be observed!

2.       Make friends: Your friend’s boyfriend isn’t an alien from space! He’s just a person who your friend likes, not to take her away from you. You may be surprised about how much you both have in common. After all one common denominator is your friend! There are a couple of dudes whom I met through dating my friends and are now my homies!!!! Plus, they may also have other cute friends which lead to jackpot!!! But you can’t be too close to them, you do not want to mess a good thing. You know what I mean. If you don’t, post a comment, I’ll explain in detail.

3.       Be interesting: Why be boring? Be you. You don’t have to impress this guy, he isn’t yours to. Talk your heart away but don’t embarrass your own friend. You’re there to represent your friend and all her other friends. Remember the saying, ‘Show me your friends and I’ll show you who you are’? Yep, you’re representing. No pressure. Most of the time, your friend’s significant other is also trying to impress you too so he won’t give you a hard time.

4.       Learn to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear: Yes, you will have to learn this skill. You will have to do it in such a way that it doesn’t look awkward. You have to be graceful about it and also learn to anticipate them. Couples tend to be mushy at times, some more predictable than others. Don’t let it get to you; just take it as a natural flow of things.  Every couple should be allowed to show affection for each other without being made to feel like it’s wrong or they should feel stifled because you’re there. A peck here, some sweet nothings there and your own phone should be your best friend. Most couples will not intentionally make you feel truly uncomfortable by going full on PDA. If they do, then your friend is intentionally being a bitch prick.

5.       Don’t take things too personally:  When you all go out, remember your friend is really trying to balance her attention between you two the best way she can. Unfortunately there will be moments when you will be left up in the air so to speak. Don’t fret nor whine. Keep yourself occupied. It’s just for a while. It’s not to intentionally exclude you.

6.       Conversationist needed: This is the perfect time to make fun of your friend. Do not look this gift horse in the mouth! And of course you can both gang up and make fun of the dude too. Or come up with an incredible back-story as to how the two of you became friends. Watch out! This could also be applied to you too! Be a good sport about it. J

7.       Be a team-player: Make your friend look good. Don’t be that girl. The one whom no one wants to introduce to their boyfriends. Please do not be that hussy who flirts with her friend’s dudes and ends up ruining one too many relationships just because of jealousy. Be good. Be kind. Have a good heart. It costs you nothing. Plus the universe will give you exactly what you dish out.

Sharing my little pearls of wisdom on this issue should make it a bit easier for some of us little ladies or should I say women. Remember Louisa May Allcot? J Besides, it is just for a little while, and you will need your friends to reciprocate in the future!

For now people, I’d like to wish all of you a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Let’s all meet next year. I wish you all life and God’s mercy to be able for all of us to hold hands in 2013 and see it to its end, safe and sound. 

The Perfect Man

The perfect man. If there was ever a common mirage in the desert this would be it. You’ve all seen the picture of the lady seated on the bench waiting for the perfect man and she’s …… a skeleton. That’s right, an anatomically correct pile of bones. And we all know that one girl who just might end up being the true sorry version of that and it may very well be me! However I shall quickly exonerate myself by stating that I do not believe in the perfect man. I believe in Mr. There-for-you. Mr. Got-your-back. I believe that a man loving you doesn’t necessarily have to show it via expensive gifts and sweet nothings but by the steadiness of his embrace and by the fact that he puts up with your shit. And let’s face it; we do have a lot of shit.

For those of you who are fans of Bikozulu or are yet to discover this talented man (Jackson Biko of Man Talk) you need to get on his site and click on the Men and Women category. Here he painstakingly explains who a man is. Everyone should read it. While you’re there, you could also check out on who he thinks a woman is, and either cringe or pat yourself on the back because high-fiving is too mainstream. Or use it as a template for in your own search for your better half. Further down is my favourite Bikozulu article of all times –Knickers! Yes I adore that blog post and before you judge me, go read it! Okay enough with free advertising.

A few weeks back I got THE CALL from one of my aunties. The is-there-anyone-special-in-your-life-seeing-as-you’re-almost-done-with-uni call. I swear my eyebrows reached my hairline! Yes, I’m headed to fourth year medicine which means I’m not exactly spring chicken. (I’m serious by the way; the older you get in med school as a girl the slimmer your chances of being asked out by highly eligible bachelors. I could go on but that’s a rant for another day.) Yes, I do not, have not, had a serious meaningful relationship and there doesn’t seem to be any in the horizon. But there’s plenty of time right? I mean I’m in my late teens, (yes, teens! My mother practically still calls me an adolescent) so I still have a long way to go. It’s not like my eggs are a limited number…wait, shoot! Still. Yes, that’s what I have to say in my defence. Besides there’s still the first degree- masters gap that I am yet to encounter so I’m still safe. Breathe DeeDee, breathe.

Anyway she suggested that due to my impending graduation, now approaching fast in my peripheral vision, I cannot afford to waste time trying out all the bloody fish in the sea. I need to be strategic. I need to come with a plan, goals and objectives. I need to make a dream board. I need to make THE LIST. The list of exactly what I want in a man, what qualities I’m I searching for, which gene pool do I want to dip my feet into and who’s surname can I stomach for the rest of my life. My dream guy. My standard. Plus what type of babies do I want; do I want them dark or light? Melancholic or jolly? All female or male? Brown or blue eyes? My head is already spinning.  I just want to curl up in bed and sleep. Which is exactly what I did. It’s been weeks now since the list was mentioned and I haven’t gotten round to it till today. So let’s do this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay.

Ummmmmmm.

Hmmmmmmmmmm.

Maybe I should just sleep on it.

No! I’ve procrastinated long enough. I have to do this, even if it’s to laugh at myself when I’m a wizened old grey-haired lady or to tick the points on the morning of my wedding day. Team no sleep till this is done!

1.       He must be male.

 Yeah, I’m sticking to being heterosexual. I tried being adventurous and it was fun while it lasted. I realised though I was trying to fill a void which unfortunately needs a male perspective. Don’t get me wrong, girls are great and they know their way round the female body, after all the have one. But my heart wants what it wants.

2.       I would really like it if he were tall and dark.

My dad’s tall. There lies the root of my prejudice. Plus I believe in the Napoleon syndrome. I am sorry to every short guy out there but you guys do not put butterflies in my belly. Neither do you stir my loins (I’m I allowed to say that?) The number of times short guys have tried flirting with me and I just found it amusing. I like high heels too. I don’t take short guys seriously. Again refer back on top to my number one reason for this prejudice. I adore dark chocolate; white is too damn sweet and makes me feel sick afterwards. Not dark. Dark chocolate takes me to heaven and back. It makes me want to howl and kick in the air just so you could release that overwhelming sense of joy. Or ecstasy, sometimes I can’t tell the difference. I would recognize all the dark brothers when I walk into a room in five minutes flat. I love it. I love the idea of it next to my own skin. I love how dark men come in different hues and how some just get it right. They stand out. My whole essence basically lights up when I see such men. My heart constantly breaks because they prefer light-skinned girls. The universe is ironical.

3.       Hardworking man.

I believe in hard work. It pays. Hard work never killed anyone, that’s what my Class 8 teacher, Mrs.Attogo would say. That woman whipped me to shape I can tell you that, but she also made me believe in myself. That I could do it. This is one of the reasons why my KCPE marks were so damn good. A man who works hard will provide for that food on the table daily. A hardworking fellow has vision, purpose and drive which are why he wakes up and does his best every day. This man not only dreams but does something about it. I want to sleep and wake up daily next to this man. Stick with him through thick and thin and you’ll be surprised just how far he’ll go, then he’ll leave you for a pretty young thing.

4.       A man who is knowledgeable.

Knowledge is attainable. I read quite a lot. Fact and fiction. Bestsellers, underdogs, fantasy, autobiographies, the English classics. You name it I’ve read it or will read it. Few things make me as happy as opening the wrapper of a new book or sniffing the pages of a second hand book, discovering new words or falling into semi –imagined state where you’re not just reading a book, you’re in the book. This crazy habit was bestowed to me by my very own father who is quite a reader himself. I don’t just need this man to be book- savvy, I want him to be well versed in current events, okay even slightly versed is alright because current events aren’t as fun as historical events. He should love his career and strive to be better in it even if it means being in university at the same time as his kids. I want him to love books because our house will be filled with them. Already I’m surprised at how many places you can look in my room and find a book lodged in somewhere and I placed them there myself! I hope he’s naturally curious so that he can just blurt out some or funny or just huh? fact when I’m with him so that I can laugh. This reminds me…

5.       A man with a sense of humour is worth his weight in gold.

Need I say more? He needs to make me laugh. I love laughing, even if I occasionally snort. Laughing is healthy. After many years of marriage, it could be the only thing keeping us together.

6.       He loves kids.

 I want children, eventually. I want the father of my children to be involved in their lives. I almost always opt for single parenthood whenever I fantasize about the future, then I think of the relationship I have with my dad and stop. I’d like my kid to have that too. A boy should learn about being a man from his father and a girl should see how men should treat her by how her dad treats her mom. God damn it, this is hard!

7.       He is my rock.

8.       He is my complementary half.

My perfect man should also be my best friend. Plus an awesome lover. I hear you can’t have it both ways. Rules were meant to be broken and myths, shattered. I solemnly swear that I will not wear mother union panties, except maybe during my monthly period. He should make me want to better myself and vice versa.

9.       He should be able to at least burst one move on the dance floor.

At least! Plus be a fun sport about it!

10.   Respect, adore, love, cherish.

These are important, no?

11.   Treat me right.

He should take me out. Wine and dine me. Treat me like a queen. I’m not saying live beyond our means but a girl needs to feel appreciated. There are couples who spend their outings in Uhuru Park. You have no excuse. P.S I will not sit in Uhuru Park.

12.   Patience is a virtue that he needs to have.

13.   A man who makes me feel comfortable in my own skin.

I’m really quirky and it takes getting used to. However if you get to see my quirky side, you are clearly way ahead in the list of contenders.

14.   A man who doesn’t leave.

There will be times you will wonder why you’re in this relationship. There are times we will argue. Times I will annoy you, you will make me want to pull out my hair and you will wonder whether I have a loose nut somewhere. There will be bad days. We can ride them out and have the good outweigh the bad, this I can honestly promise.

15.   Generosity and responsibility. Such nice qualities. I want my man to have them. At least these you can note even before you start dating. Sometimes I can be mean, and you might need to gently nudge me in the right direction. A responsible man makes you feel safe and comfortable. I know he’ll take care of me, and I him.

Phew! For now the list stands at 15! Didn’t sound too shallow I hope, nor unrealistic. Oops, forgot one major point- I have to love and respect him. There are plenty other points which will be added or deducted in the future and that’s alright. I know I’m yet to find this guy, or maybe I have and I’m being completely obstinate about it. The point is I’m not going to wait for him to show up on my front door like this is a Disney fairy tale. I’m going to live my life! Whether he steps up or not is his choice, because I’ll be too busy trying to make my life as amazing as I can! What’s on your list?

Conversations in the dark

I wrote this lil' piece here a while back. Thought I should share it with you. Pure fiction (is there impure fiction?). Enjoy...

The amber light flickered in the dark room as she lit her next cigarette. Inhaling the nicotine filled tobacco smoke, she exhaled in relief. “Yeah, that’s the stuff,” she thought. She puffed once or twice before she noticed that the floor was really hurting her posterior, but she made no effort to stand.

“Are you going to do this all night, Kay?”

“Why not? You have a better plan?”  Silence was the reply. She felt him slide next to her in silence and place his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve some nerve,” she muttered as she slid to fit into the little nook of comfort that he provided. He chuckled in that husky voice of his that she adored. “Cocky bastard,” she whispered, smiling in the dark. The ringlets of smoke doubled now, making up for the lack of conversation.

“Where do we go from here?”

You’ll be okay. You were always the decisive one and still are. I won’t be surprised if tomorrow finds you in Easy Coach or something already off.”

“You know I can’t do that. Besides, your mother would love that. Another thing for her to mutter about to her friends.”

He laughed. “She doesn’t hate you. It’s just that I had gone for so many years then we suddenly show up at her door. I guess you blew her mind after all those years of worrying about me.

“Hmm, again with your unique way of dealing with relationships. Running off to do something noble so that we can’t reason or guilt you into staying with us. She probably lost you to the NGO didn’t she? God, I should never have eaten that chicken that day.”

“C’mon! First of all it had been a dream of mine for so long to help eradicate Malaria at the village level. Second, you would have still eaten that chicken whether it was burnt or not. Kay, you always went for what you wanted. You approached me…

“Here we go again,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes simultaneously.

“Let me finish Kay. It was one of those good old surprises that life gives you. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Hell, if I could go back in time I would approach you this time. In that little black dress…

“purple”

“…black dress of yours at the bar with you little glass of wine and that cigarette that you held so seductively…”

“How does one hold a cigarette seductively?”

“I don’t know. You’re the expert. Speaking of which, when are you quitting?”

“Soon.”

“Kay…”

“I said soon. Damn it Dave, don’t lecture me right now.”

“Fine.”

The amber light glowed once more. The ticking of the clock at the far end of the room was the only sound emanating in the room.

“I’m scared Dave.”

“I know.”

“This really sucks. What’s going to happen now? I don’t want to move from here.”

“Kay…”

“No, let me finish Dave. I’m scared. So freaking scared. My heart is holding on to shards of a memory, my body clinging to a ghost, my mind is working overtime. I haven’t slept for days because closing my eyes will only lead to a breakdown. I’ll be forced to face the truth. I can’t do it. I keep hoping…”

“I’m sorry.”

“How does that help me Dave? You know how much it took for me trust you, how it finally felt to feel whole and loved. It was crazy beautiful. I exhaled, everyday, with peace that my turbulent soul had rarely felt. Now, I can hear that sleeping lion waking up, clawing on the very fabrics of my existence. Its howling, howling Dave…” she choked.

He held her close as he waited for the guttural sobs racking her body to subside. She couldn’t help but hold him close and struggle to capture what she had lost, what she was loosing. Soon the silent black was all that could be tangibly felt in the room.

“Remember when Halima came along, all flowery with that Coastal accent to the NGO? You all drooled over her yet she hadn’t the slightest clue. God, it was so refreshing to see all of you try to outdo each other.”

“What! I wasn’t there. I only had eyes for you.”

“Yeah right. Its okay, you don’t have to try to massage my ego or anything. I know you tried some of your ‘classic moves’ on her and you know how I can’t resist a good laugh.

“Ah! That hurt! Right here,” He pouted pointing at the left side of his chest. “Besides it was part of the plan, I knew you were watching, I had to get you laughing so that you’d be comfortable around me.”

“What do you mean, ‘comfortable around me’”, she mimicked.

Please, you never really liked any personal bonding with anyone, let alone men. It took time before you and Halima became best of friends, and it was longer still before you’d even let me drop you home, regardless of the fact that we were neighbors. Even that one time you hit on me when inebriated, you completely denied it the next day.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, how did we get round to hitting me with a few hard truths from me making fun of you, dufus!”

“Classic avoidance Kay, but its okay, I’ll let it slide this once. You’ve had enough for today,” he smiled as he held her closer. “I expect you’ll go back to the university after this”

“No, I want to continue your work down in the village.”

“We talked about this before.”

“I know but things have changed…

“No, go, get your masters and come back. You’ll be better equipped and you’ll have a bigger clout. Those chiefs won’t know what hit them.”

She laughed, “I can see Chief Orwa right now, ballooning up when he hears some other new suggestions that are kindly being shoved down his throat.”

He chuckled. “Good memories.” Sighing he let her light her cigarette as he gazed wistfully at the window. Dawn was approaching fast, with the birds already preparing to meet it with chirps of song. It wasn’t long now. He could feel her clutching him tightly as light began to slowly seep into the room. The rectangular wooden box on the mahogany table was beginning to take definite shape. He wondered if she knew how desperate she looked, how bruises would form on her palms due to the machine like grip that she held on to him. Her eyes seemed wild, with embers flicking at the edges and all he could think of was how beautiful she looked, even in her pit of internal terror.

“Stay. Please.” She whispered.

“You know the answer to that.”

“Leave me with something, anything.”

“I love you.”

“How does that help me? It only makes it worse. Don’t you see? I know that. That’s what scares me. You love me. I love you. Yet we’ll be separated for such a long time. So long…”

It killed him to see her like this, but it was inevitable. The sun was rising fast and he could feel himself slipping away. She could feel it too and seemed to be slowly giving in to hysteria. Turning her slowly to face him, he whispered those three words before he kissed her gently on her lips. Those same lips that would never tire of smiling, the same lips that would always turn him on like crazy; the lips that could ask a question just by the shape they assumed. He was going to miss her laughter. He knew she would float aimlessly for a few months before she’d snap back to reality. Yet all he could offer her was this last kiss. A kiss that would dry in the harshness of the sun.

She could feel him slipping away even as tongue met tongue. She could feel the tears stream down her face as he began to fade with every strand of sunlight that slipped into the room. She knew she would never be the same again. It was going to be brutal yet all she had to hang onto was this night. Soon all she could feel was air and her heart silently wailed in desperation. Yet she had to pull herself together, for it was now time for the final send-off.

TAO

The Young man came to the Old Man seeking counsel.

I broke something, Old Man.

How badly is it broken?

It’s in a million little pieces

I’m afraid I can’t help you.

Why?

There’s nothing you can do.

Why?

It can’t be fixed.

Why?

It’s broken beyond repair. It’s in a million little pieces.

Like I said, I’ve been reading ‘A million little pieces’ by James Frey. There’s a part where his brother brings him this Chinese book called Tao Te Ching which had a simple message that I’d like to share with you guys. I don’t know whether it will be helpful or not. The author liked it a lot, here are snippets:

·         Names are not necessary for that which is real and for that which is eternal

·         If we are free from desire, we can realize mystery, if we are caught in desire, we only realize manifestations

·         Manifestations and mystery arise from the same source, which is darkness.

·         Darkness within darkness is the key to all understanding.

·         If there is beauty there is ugliness. If there is good there is bad.

·         Those who live with the Tao act without doing and teach without saying. They let things come and they let things go and they live without possession and they live without expectation.

·         Just be.

·         Over esteem men and people become powerless. Overvalue possessions and people begin to steal.

·         Empty your mind and fill your core. Lose everything you know and everything you desire and ignore those who say they know.

·         Weaken your ambition and toughen your reserve.

·         Practise not wanting, desiring, judging, doing, fighting, knowing.

·         Practise just being. Everything will fall into its place.

·         There is no good, or evil, no Sinner no Saint. There simply is what is and that is it.

·         The good is like water that nourishes without trying.

·         In thinking keep to simple, in conflict be fair.

·         Fill your bowl to the brim and it will spill.

·         Keep sharpening your knife and it will become dull

·         Chase after money and your heart will never unclench.

·         Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner.

Like I said, little snippets...