The Catch up

I grew up with a tough mother, what you’d call lelo. She was hard on me and my sister (still hard on us) but she would easily get square with anyone who messed with us. And she was not alone. Which means me and my cousins got into very few fights and me having only ever been in three physical fights at a personal level.

One time I was in primary four. A tall fellow kept picking on me. He’d come at me when he was bored and raff me up, hit my head one too many times and steal my snack allowance ( pesa ya break). One day as he was beating me up in front of the other kids, he forgot himself and mentioned my mom in his gloat. I couldn’t have that so I picked up a very sharp stone and sent it flying to his head. As soon as blood started trickling down his face, I ran. I ran like hell. He never bothered me since that day.

Another time was in high school. A classmate wronged me in some way. I don’t remember too well what it was all about but it had me landing a huge rock on his back. Of cause, he roundhouse kicked my butt.

The other time was at a football game. A couple of friends and i were playing ajwala and some kid tackled me badly. I swung at him with Thor’s might. At first it was an impulse, an act of rage but seconds into it I realized he wasn’t fighting back or defending himself for that much. Thank God he did not because he could have crushed me. He was way bigger than me and I reckon way stronger. I felt bad after that.In all these fights you can pick up two things about me. One, my anger will get the better of me one day and two, am as Jewish as luos come.

I have only ever known to fight because and for my rage so seeing my mother sit beside my hospital bed and fighting back her tears so hard, I was sad. I remember thinking, “This strong woman has fought for me my whole life, its time I took the fight”. That was right in the middle of me entertaining the thought of suicide.

On a Thursday morning, I walked up to the hospital for a consultation. Little did I know that I wasn’t going back home that day. The good doctor after examining me decided that I was to be admitted immediately. Everything happened so fast and I found myself in a hospital ward with a tag on my wrist. Soon I was being drip-fed with loads of drugs. The pain got worse.

Eight months before the hospital I woke up with a swollen toe. Not painful, just swollen. I thought little of it. I didn’t know that the monster was just setting in. Gradually the swell went to my finger. The one finger, again I wasn’t alarmed. As time went by, the pains started setting in and my knees started swelling. That’s when I got scared and started doing my due diligence. I scavenged the internet for any information on arthritis and with every information I consumed, a little fear came along with it. The symptoms manifested rapidly and on occasion, I would lose function on one hand for hours. I panicked and that’s when I started visiting physicians.

I did a lot of tests but the doctors couldn’t find conclusive results on what exactly to treat. See, this ailment has a lot of subs and each has a specific medication. Which means the doctors couldn’t treat me except to pump me with painkillers. The symptoms change tact and now my throat was swollen. I could not even swallow my own saliva without agony. And then my eye muscles began to ache. A simple glance at bright light would send such pains to my nerves. Then my cardiac system was compromised. According to the doctor, I had a swell just next to my heart. It was painful just breathing.

I got tired of it all. Right there in that hospital bed, I was ready to end it. I had made peace with death. I tried holding my breath for the whole run but my heart would start beating so hard and set the pain back on track. I had to come up with another way. So I decided that I would pull out the plastic syringe on my arm and just bleed out. I figured it would take me like one hour to drain my body completely. But I didn’t go through with it. I fought.

I fought for my life. And for the first time, I fought not for fear or for anger. I just fought for life and I won. I may be subjected to medications for the rest of my life but I won. And winning is not bad at all.

Also, as I am catching you up on my timeline, I graduated from school. I mean, I never really got to attend my graduation but hey, that’s another win for me nonetheless. I caught with the flash and the drama in Central city. Apparently, the timeline is malleable. Now that you’re all caught up, what have you been doing lately?

Be nice; 2017

 

It’s been ages since I wrote something. I guess my lazy just graduated to a whole new unfathomed level. Anyway happy New Year, am guessing you’ve heard a lot of that by now.

I was in Kisumu for the celebrations and boy is it hot there. You would wish you lived in bikini bottoms if you tasted the bitterness of that heat. That aside, Kisumu is an amazing place to be, few trees but you know, you get by. The sun is so ruthless, the dust so merciless, the lake breeze is so dry makes you wanna cry. The fish is good though, fish never disappoints. Sweat comes off without warning. So watery patches under armpits isn’t a shock. Selling cold water could really make one a fortune.

But in all that, still I was able to sit down with family, have a good laugh. Visit memories we naturally would want locked in the ‘embarrassment’ label box. We teased each other. It was all good, all healthy. Like the Christmas spirit would dictate.

In one of this reminisce moments is when it all happened. The sound. It was loud and shrill. Very sharp. It grew louder and louder. It became scary. And all of us went silent for a moment. Then I decided to check it out, I mean being the only one who has kicked major ass in Call of Duty, it was only right I went. Plus I already know aliens live among us, so fear was something not on my mind.

So I went and I got near. And when I got close enough, the goat stopped making the sound. It gave me this look of desperation. The kind of look Marcellus would give Claus just before he reaps his heart out. I strategically accessed the situation and took the appropriate action to… what am I saying!. I helped the goat off the stuck leg and it ran off. I don’t speak goat but if I did, am pretty sure I would have heard it say, thank you sir, you’re my hero. Point?

It’s been a week already into the new year and so far so good. People being creative as ever, making ridicule to the first month of the year. And here I am already getting my lessons handed to me. The goat was making sounds (am not gonna use the word bleat, great now I just did) because it was in pain, it was stuck, it needed help, it needed attention. Am so sure if I walked away, It would have continued making the noise and I would be so irritated and eventually pushed to give aid either way. The goat was going to get free no matter what, and that was its whole plan.

Now most us, unlike the goat keep quiet and suffer with silence. We hurt but don’t say. In our twisted mind we think it’s nobble not to cry for help. We think we are saints… am all about sainthood but suffering when you don’t have to? Doesn’t cut it.

The bible says ask and it shall be given unto you, seek and you shall find…, in that wisdom I say, cry out loud and you shall be assisted. Cry so much that if no one is willing to help you, annoyance forces them to do so.

I have his guy who I respect so much and frankly look up to. Both spiritually and even normally. In fact if I was asked the people I think would make heaven, he  would top the list. This guy knows the bible so well I always believe he has read it all, even though he denies it. Now this guy, let’s call him Double A, he would watch you struggle, even suffer and he wouldn’t lay a finger. At first I thought he was the worst but I understood him.

It’s not his biblical stand but just a personal thing. Once I asked him, “Now why would you watch me struggle when you can help?” he said “You didn’t ask for my help”. That shut me up.

I believe in the power of asking, always. Be it asking from a fellow human being or even God. It’s not enough to assume that you will get something from someone by virtue of either this or that. Or worse still, to assume that someone wouldn’t dare help you no matter what. I say give someone the chance to at least say no to you, (something you should never accept!).

It doesn’t apply on hurt only. You might just need help anyhow. Or a favor, or consideration.

Ask that landlord to give you some time. Ask your boss to give to time off. Ask that matatu driver to take it easy on wheels. Ask your neighbor to turn the volume down or better, to share the Wi-Fi password. Ask that girl out on a date, she might just be into you after all. Ask your friends to buy you something for your birthday, not just posting ‘hbd’ or worse ‘happy born day’. Ask the waitress to give you ‘sauce’…ask away!

But most importantly ask wisely with reasonable wants. Have a good reason for asking.  And if your pride is the size of an elephant to ask a fellow man, then ask God. Ask God for assistance. At least that way you don’t get to do it alone.

It’s not a crime nor a sin to ask.

With that, now I would like to ask you who is reading this….Please be nice this 2017. It doesn’t physically hurt.

Again, Happy new year.

 

 

 

 

today yesterday

Two days ago if you’d ask me “what is love?” I would have probably thrown a famous movie line, or some crap I read somewhere. Today if you ask me the same, I would be speechless. Speechless not in not knowing what it is, but in not having the words to craft the answer to it. Discussing this matter is something I often eschew professionally as I don’t do intimate/sentimental/emotional talks. I try not to anyway.

By now you are probably thinking am a sucker for love. Well you may be right, hold your breath.

It was yesterday, a Friday. I was seated at the same place I have been sitting for the past two months at such times. I was on my computer, trying to figure out the best background color for the navigation bar on this new website am working on. It’s my first big paying website, and big pay is worth it. I suppose. I settled for grey, as usual.

She came. She had good stuff. She came prepared. She impressed without even trying. She smiled. She cracked a joke that I didn’t get, but I still laughed/smiled (I do that a lot). She stood for a while then took a seat. She wore nicely considering the impromptu weather changes.

Then we talked. The small talks. Then came the more serious talks. We talked for long. And as she talked, I listened ebulliently. Challenged my logic, which in my world is apt. the more I listened to her mind, the more I was moved to secede from the infamous ‘mafisi sacco’ and its randy course.

She left. I sat there for a while thinking about my life. The clambake that was going on in my head suddenly stopped. The voices went silent. Silent as if waiting for a leader’s speech.

The only thing on my mind was the citronella aura she left behind. That scent that blanketed my very being at the moment. I was in a zone. The wind was too slow, the time wasn’t moving at all, the air was too sharp. And I sat there.

All I could think about at night was her. How she makes me question my life. She is the kind of person complaisant with going to depths just to turn a stone. She warrants adoration, but she’s too humble to take it all.

She spends her Sundays in church and she doesn’t do illegal and she cooks fine (counting on that) what are the odds for that??? My friend CW keeps telling me am caught in the web and I aint going nowhere. Am starting to believe it’s all true. Every man’s dream

This person of interest also appreciates ma3’s, she dropped some names and I was just smiling. She’s like the feminine me, only better like a lot.

On that note! Big shout out to Nganya awards. Big shout out to route 125, and welcome back to Kenya 1, the queen on the road, Catalyst. Condolences to the family of the boy who lost his life, so unfortunate.

Back to it, so what is love?? Well, I haven’t the slightest clue, no one has. One person said, the definition of love is relative. Another said, love is what you make it.

I think love is a big diverse concept and no words can contain it. Love is what makes you feel like everything is gonna be alright when statistically you know they aren’t. Love is the hope and strength that makes you conjure the effects of a shitty occurrence and still smile after it.

Just to be clear, love is something am not in.

 

 

 

 

 

My Muse

So I sat down and thought I’d write this. Tell you about the mystery damsel. But before that, see that image up there? thats just a model.

She’s of same height as me, which is something I don’t compliment. I rather have a biased preference for short girls, they make romance burst out easily. Especially when kissing. You can lift them up, provided that you have the muscles for it…and it wouldn’t look so uncomfortable. Plus when short girls look at you, they look up to you. Regardless to say, girls with the same height as me intimidate me (I know that’s the stupidest thing you’ve heard this far) but that aside.

This girl, a girl with evidence of acne menace on her face and a warm smile which fades as fast as it shows up. At first I thought smiling brings some pain to her, then I thought she was cursed but I later realized that am not that funny. I mean don’t get me wrong, I make myself laugh quite easily, believe me, but when it comes to others, I lose my mojo.

She wear glasses, which don’t help a lot considering her default nature which is too serious. I even thought she was an advocate in the making once. Boy would that girl make a fine jury if it were so.

She dresses formally and is utterly flamboyant at it. By formally I don’t mean she wears toe length skirts and all that. I mean you wouldn’t ever find her wearing crop tops and such. One would say, she isn’t exposed. I know I did. She somehow manages to look both classy and sexy. I don’t know how she does it. She’s the kind of girl you won’t be worried when and if dear mom decides to make an impromptu visit

She is tough, I hate that about her. No actually I find that vexing and sexy about her. She argues firmly, I remember one time we argued till we almost fought. So she is a fighter in other words. (I would have definitely won the fight if it came to that, just so you know…there is nothing gentle about taking a beating from a lady, regardless the circumstances.)

She can hold a conversation very well and comfortably. She knows her politics ok, she knows David Ndii!!! For crying out loud. Let’s just say she’s a fascination as she is competition. Have you watched Lucifer? The movie series? Yeah, she’s like the detective and am Morning Star, trying to use the “tell me, what is that you really desire most” and it doesn’t work.

She one time used a big word on me, as usual I acknowledged my ignorance and asked what it meant. She didn’t shy from explaining. So she reads a lot and she’s a brainy.

We went out for a grab once. She managed to impress me even more. And to top it all off, she offered to pay the bill (hapo nayo ni kiherehere zake zilimpanda). I would have accepted the offer in a heartbeat as am not one to follow protocol but the voices in my head thought it sane for me to pay. There!

I haven’t seen her for a while now,

And who would have thought that Zeus was actually raised by a goat!! Yeah, shocked me too….