Monday, 24 September 2012

1001 Rules for My Unborn Son - Walker Lamond

September is definitely a good month wouldn't you say... This is my THIRD post. That is a record this year... Something I am not particularly proud of but then again, no pressure.

Today's post is going to be, errmmm, not-original but only because I stumbled upon this site: and the content thrilled me sooo much I just had to share. Now, before I do share: I am explicitly stating that the content that shall appear here is not my original work but it is by Walker Lamond's the author of the book: 1001 Rules for My Unborn Son. Don't want to get slapped with a plagiarism-suit like Caroline Mutoko. 

Anyway, I am not a mom, not about to become one but I read nearly all 1001 rules and below are a couple of my favourite (in no particular order) 

Hope you enjoy.

  1. Nothing good ever happens after 3:00 a.m.
  2. Offer to carry a woman's bags, especially your mother - she carried you for 9 months
  3. Never spend too much on a haircut. They don't last. :-)
  4. At the end, LOYALTY trumps AMBITION every time.
  5. Be a well-informed voter.
  6. Honking your horn won't make them go faster.
  7. Keep your eye on the ball AND follow through; in sports and in life.
  8. Spend time with your cousins. You are more alike than you think.
  9. FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS. You will be done in half the time.
  10. Never be afraid to ask out the best looking girl in the room. You will be surprised how often it works.
  12. Return a borrowed car with a FULL tank of gas.
  13. You only get ONE chance to notice her new haircut.
  15. SUCK IT UP!
  16. If you are good at something, never do it for free.
  17. DO NOT under-estimate your fertility! Hehehe.
  18. Sometimes your best bet is to bet on her.
  19. If she asks for your help opening a jar, you better damn well open it. :)
  20. Never under-estimate the power of taking out the trash without being asked... To put this in the Kenyan context: Never under-estimate the power of doing something without being asked.

Have a blessed week. 

Monday, 17 September 2012

Mirror Mirror...

*Mirror Mirror on the wall, who the hell is that staring back at me?*

Have you ever looked in the mirror and been unable to recognize yourself? What do you do when the person staring back in the mirror is a familiar stranger? When you have an out of body experience? Do you pinch your elbow? Try to touch your nose with your tongue? Or try to put your fist in your mouth? How does one snap out of self-surprising moments?

In the last couple of months I have managed, quite successfully and effortlessly, to literally drop my own jaw leave it on the floor and walk away from it… As one of my sisters would say “I forgot to pick up my jaw.” The thing about growing up is that you learn to be less judgemental - and to some extent more accommodating - of other people, of behaviors you would have thought as absurd in the past, of comments made by people. Growing up for me is teaching me to be less judgemental… Something about taking a walk in someone’s shoes blah blah blah…. It’s complicated. Standing on the outside looking in on your own life is complicated. It’s  hard. It’s  foreign.  

I have managed walked myself into situations which were just plain silly…Utterly silly infact! Then I have found myself, while offering my friendship to an unexpected person, between a rock and a hard place. I have found myself going against almost everything I believe in because sometimes in life you just have to be a friend, to support someone when they are going through shit a really rough patch; because sometimes all that is required of you is to shut up and hold someone’s hand. There are times when your opinion does not matter. These shoes I find myself walking in are not mine. They feel so big and are quite uncomfortable; yet you would think if they are big, they should be easy to slip out of; Right? WRONG!

I am in the habit of saying “It’s never that serious” BUT I am beginning to think that sometimes it is serious. It gets serious when you are incapable of recognizing yourself or remembering the things you once stood for. It gets serious when you do silly things in the name of hope; because hope is a treacherous illusion. It gets serious when you become numb to the very things that define you as a person… When guilt is no longer your lover, THEN, you know it is serious. When you detach from your conscience…It is serious.
It’s been quite a couple of months. Maybe I will stop making my own jaw drop, maybe I won’t. It’s never that serious... Hehehe! :-)

On the real though, here are a few of my personal lessons and realizations from the last couple of weeks:
  • I have learned that you never really know yourself; self surprise is real. Self awareness can be painfully cruel when it creeps up on you
  • I have learned that when you break someone’s heart – whether a friend, lover or family member, and you want forgiveness, you have to be patient with them and you have to work at it.
  • I have learned to accept that people will do things differently for the very simple reason that they want different things out of life from me. It is really that simple.
  • I have learned… I lie…. I am learning, at such a slow pace, it’s not even funny, that I should manage my expectations of others people, especially men. :-)  (In my defense, I already learned how to manage my expectations of women.)
  • I have learned that I have NEVER learned to be carefully what I wish for or mumble under my breathe as wishes. Sad truth!
That’s about it for now. I need to go and meet myself... For the umpteenth this year. *ShakingMyHead*

On unrelated matters, I am beginning to honestly believe that this country will be better off ruled by a woman… Why? Because I honestly believe if this country was being ruled by a woman the amount of blood that has been shed in TanaRiver and Isiolo would not have been as much. Simply put: Because I think women are more rational than men. Thing is, I don’t think the right woman has come out yet, so if you are reading this and you have political ambition, and you are a woman… Tokelezea!

P.s. If you tried pinching your elbow or putting your fist in your mouth or touching your nose with your tongue… Judge yourself harshly. :-)

Blessed week folks.

Thursday, 6 September 2012

One Year Later...

It's September... Again. I once told a friend of mine that September was my least favourite month of the year. So much used to happen in September... Most of which I cannot remember now but at the time, I just didn't like the month. It was seldom a happy month. The year I told her that, she told me September was her favourite month.... That changed for her the same year. I suppose my bad streak rubbed off on her. I now know for a fact it is her least favourite month.

It therefore came as no surprise when I had a September from hell, literally speaking, last year. I think it is probably the reason I don't remember what ever happened in the years before. In a couple of days - three to be precise - it will be exactly one year since The M. family i.e. us had their own version of 9/11. Read here.

I don't even know why I am blogging about this. Here is the thing... For starters, I cannot believe it has been one year - 365 days - since some sic bastard decided we didn't need our home anymore as we had known it for 23 years. Time really does fly. Time is also grossly overrated when it comes to healing wounds and such stuff. I can tell you that for free. You see, there is not a single day - not a single day - that has ever gone by that I don't think about what happened - yes, I know that is messed up on many levels but its the truth - and though my siblings or folks, especially folks, don't say it I know the same thing applies to them.

I think about all the planning that went into making sure that our house was demolished. I think about that sic sic bastard who camouflaged himself as a good neighbor, a man I served breakfast numerous times on Sunday mornings, I think about his evil twisted mind. I think about the cops at Kasarani Police Station and I still want to throw up. I think about City Council and Al-Shabaab like thoughts fill my mind... Literally! I think about that sic bastards crazy wife and I shiver. That lady is the equivalent of King Ahab's wife (read 1Kings 21). I think about my momma's tears and my dad's reaction, my brother's words and the look on my sister's face as we resigned ourselves to fate and to the reality that we would sit through the demolition till 1:00 a.m. I think about the overwhelming support we got from friends and some relatives and the words THANK YOU seem inadequate and gifts of appreciation seem somewhat lacking. 

But the thought that inevitably comes to my mind when I think about all this is always Anthony Nahashon(A.N.)Ngunjiri. I think about how he was beaten and eventually murdered in cold blood by someone we had once welcomed into our home... And my heart cries for his family, his daughter especially. I think about his daughter. When I think about A.N. Ngunjiri, I find myself asking God time and time again if this was how he was supposed to die... It is said that when God created us, He already knew how we would die... and I wonder if this is how God saw his death the day he created him. Was this  really how it was supposed to happen? He died a brutal death, a painful and undeserving death on 21st September 2011.

The thing about the Macharia's is that they thought money is everything and that it could buy freedom and justice. His wife actually once told us that: "If you think you have money, or you know people, then we will show you just how much money we have and the powerful people we know.If it means we shed blood for this land, then we shall..." True to her words they did it all. 

On September 9th 2011, they showed us they had money and contacts of powerful people... I actually still believe there was no one who could help us. But on the day they murdered Ngunjiri in cold blood, on that day they realized money isn't everything and neither are the telephone numbers they had been flaunting in our faces on 9th. I say this because I know for a fact, Mr. Macharia and his puppet brother never thought they would be in jail (remand) for this long... They knew they would pay their way through the justice system. He once appeared in court on a wheelchair to seek sympathy from the judge so that they could get bail...  Disgust doesn't even begin to describe what I felt. It didn't work. 

But here is the thing, even if it did work - I know deep down that that man, his wife and the nut-heads attached to her hips, his brother, the police at Kasarani(I wish I could name names) and his workers, will never know peace and they will pay for everything they did - especially killing Ngunjiri. 

It's been a year of court cases, bail applications from their end which would always send us on our knees for prayer, of constant hurtful memories, of painful conversations and flashbacks, of prayers and mostly of seeing God's favor through the justice system in our country. I said in the last post about this whole drama (read here) that I hope the justice system will restore my patriotism... Well, its not fully restored, but its not as bad as it was one year ago.

P.s. Justice delayed is not always justice denied. I can tell you that no matter how long it will take to have Macharia convicted for murder, on the day the ruling will be made(God willing), I know I will cry tears of joy because justice will have been done. 

I pray this September will be good to me and my folks and siblings.

Have a blessed month y'all.