LOVE: New Season

Hey peeps! Sorry for joining the underground movement, but it seems I've taken my life offline mainly due to work related reasons (read overload) and better still have erased the sad memories of last season to enter into a new exciting relationship with the most wonderful woman. Details will not be shared but I'm in cloud nine. For now, I'll just give you the lyrics to OUR song...


I'm calling his phone up
just to tell him how much
I really love him cause
he's everything I want

He listens to me,
cares for me
so I truly believe

God sent me an angel up from above
Who's gonna love me for life
Might as well be perfect only because
It's the only way I can describe, so

If this isn't love, tell me what it is
Cause I could be dreaming or just plain crazy
If this isn't love, tell me what it is
Cause I never felt like this baby

If this isn't love

L O V E, what is to me?
L O V E, oh, if this isn't love
L O V E, what is to me?
L O V E, oh, if this isn't love

I'm selfish cause I don't
wanna share him with no-
body not even those
people that came before me
But see, I never believed

God send me an angel...

So if you got real love
Lemme see you put your hands up
See you put your hands up
The kind of love that fits
quite like a glove
Lemme see you put your hands up
See you put your hands up
If this isn't love

Cause I know I ain't crazy
I know I ain't tripping
I know I ain't slipping
I know that it's love

You see me with my hands up
If you think I'm dreaming
I know I ain't dreaming
Cause this is the reason I love him because

If this isn't love...



Song: If This Isn't Love
Songwriters: Brian Seals; Terry Thomas; Theron Thomas;
Singer: Jennifer Hudson

PS:Any trained body emerges above a wonder.

Count me in or out

National Census 20 years ago:

For one reason or another, we were not counted. I still can't remember why, all I know is that our gate didn't have that cryptic code marked in white chalk that all the other gates in the hood had. The stigma of being the only kid who didn't have a story about the people who came to count us was too much to bear. I promised to make amends once the next census came.

National Census 10 years ago:

The long wait was finally over and I wasn't going to miss this opportunity. The thing I remember most about that famous evening was that it was the first time in quite a long while that we had sat together as a family in one room. Guess our lifestyles and tv preferences meant that if you weren't in your room, you were outside. Truth is, we never sat together as a family again, as people moved out soon afterwards.

The exercise itself was not without drama. Me, the rebelious teenager, decided to answer that controversial question by saying that I am a Kenyan, much to the chagrin of my parents. Don't get me wrong, nothing to do with tribalism, rather a statement to my folks that I had no ties to their ethnic origin, having been born and brought up in Eastlands. I spoke fluent sheng and visits to ocha never lasted more a few nights in a year. The ennumerator didn't have a problem with my answer, and I felt relieved I had exorcised the demons of missing this important event 10 years ago.

National Census, tomorrow:

Like every employed soul, every surprise holiday is treated with the same gratitude as an unexpected bonus. Yipee!!! Tuesday is a nice day to sleep in, sadly it's also the day our area undergoes electricity load management exercise. As for the exercise the night before, let's just say not everyone in a red shirt carrying a black bag is automatically guaranteed entry into our flat.

And with regard to that infamous question, I'm thinking of rebelling against the current trend. Maybe it's in honour of my parents (esp my late mum). Or rather in acknowledgment of the fact that knowing my tribe or where the people of my tribe are located isn't in itself a bad thing, the census being useful for planning purposes, as well as a gold mine for research information into human migration, pathology and cultural studies. If someone uses that info for locating potential genocide victims, I don't think I will be held guilty. But that's my 2 cents, I might as well tell them that I'm from Mars...

Psa 125:3 The wicked will not rule over those who do right. If they did, the people who do right might use their power to do evil.

Rest in Peace Mum

2009-06-10 08:00:00. We got the call, come quick and take her to hospital. On our way we were told, go straight to hospital. And at the hospital we were told, she's left us. And that's when our family's worst ever nightmare began.

The postmortem results showed that she'd had a heart attack (yeah, just like MJ) due to atherosclerosis i.e. the arteries bringing blood to her heart were clogged with cholesterol, hence the heart muscle cells died slowly over the last couple of years due to reduced oxygen supply. Since mum had been quite healthy all her life (and not overweight), it came as a shock for all of us.

Funeral was the other Friday (19th) and it was a really rough ride for the husband, daughters (the one in the US couldn't come however), son and grand daughter left behind. But by God's grace, and the love, support and contributions of relatives, neighbours, friends, workmates and strangers, we are still here, still standing, trying to move on.

So what was mum like? A month shy of her 60th birthday (her birth cert was less 4 years though), she was a retired secretary who took up poultry farming, and had also explored business opportunities in Southern Sudan. She was a strong believer, committed to prayer and counselling the many women she came across in the hood and beyond. She loved to laugh (was the founder chairperson of her chama called 'Mitheko' group) and looked out for the best in everyone.

My best memory of her? When she sided with me and not my high school teachers during Form Four 1st Term open day. I'd performed poorly, mainly because I was more focussed on interschool games. I told her (in my capacity of vice capt) that our hockey team needed to make it to the national finals and that I'd pick up my studies after the ball games. Turns out our team made it to the national final itself, and I got the highest possible grade in high school. And that's what any kid would want in a mum: to believe in his/her dreams.

I'll follow my dreams all the way through, and I know I'll make it. Sadly, she won't be here to share in my success, in as much as she deserved it.

I'll miss you mum. RIP.

Mayday musings

Like any other employee, 1st of May was waited with eager expectation of an extended weekend, with the key mpango being going to shags. But looking at the critical essence of the Labour Day holiday, and checking out the news in the evening, there is a clear indication that being a labourer is not exactly the best thing in life.

The wisest man said the best thing in life is to eat, drink and enjoy his work. Unfortunately for most Kenyan labourers, they neither enjoy their work nor can they make enough to eat and drink (in the sense of comfort). Sadly the scenes in Uhuru Park yesterday were clear that the labourer is more or less a slave to the masters (the guys in expensive suits seated on the dias). And with the global economic crisis, the demonstrations in other more developed countries were a reflection of the same.

Am I any different? Truth is I'm no better than the labourers. Almost 4 years after campus, I'm still existing on a single source of income (business plans still on soft copy at best) and my sole investments trading at 40% below purchase price (equities were recommended as the best investment when young). And this is despite reading Rich Dad Poor Dad, Richest Man in Babylon and currently Think & Grow Rich.

Sadly I figure that I'm more a contributor than a solution to the unfairly skewed distribution of wealth in the world. Consider, that I'd pay less than minimum wage to any employee who would feature in my biashara for starters, let alone the cash paid to the lady who does our laundry every week. And listening to my colleagues hoping for bonuses and increments, I wonder whether we are trapped in the employment illusion, not aware that we are being played for far less than what we are worth. Maybe there should be a rule that we should all be self employed within time x of clearing campus, get us out of our comfort zones and creating wealth for the country.

Last episode: Ditched not Hitched

I struggled a bit with this, but here goes. For all of you who diligently followed the social series of my life from Smitten, Saying it like it is, Getting Noticed, Soap Files - Updated and the previous post, I'm afraid the last episode has gone according to what we least expected and feared most, NOT a happy ending.



Guess it's true what they say about two birds in a bush. When they fly away, it's as if you had nothing in the first place. No reasons were given, simply put: "A lot of thought has been put in this past week, and I think we should just be friends". Of course we'd prepared for this statement, having patiently waited 15 months, so we said what naturally comes to mind "Sawa". Unfortunately the attachment developed during this period isn't that easy to get rid off, so I'm at pains, the sharp splinters of my broken heart a daily source of emotional trauma.

Well, what next? We'll go undercover for a few months off the dating scene, till it's safe to bring out this patched up heart. Hopefully, the sun will still shine again :-(