And life continues. I’m used to such responses to my sentiments and statements. I used to be worried and could keep my opinions to myself. Why risk doubted sanity? Not anymore.
The answers are a proof that the set expectations are violated. (Read lies.) How do you expect my answer to be on how was your night? Just cool and fine? Details. Honest details are my weakness.
I had a dream, a nightmare rather. We were busy, you and I making out in public and your dad was cheering the smooches! Your eyes were closed, your soul and mine had an external merger. Oh, yes! That was my night!
And that earns me a series of insults and a demand for apology! You shouldn’t ask for what you can hardly stomach. On top of the biggest crimes we commit, is the mask of politeness. Politeness does not give you the ticket to lie, truth as popularised, should always set you free.
Lying is strongly founded in the spirit and practice of conformity. The refusal to be real, the desire to be normal.
You owe no one an explanation by being different. We were all uniquely made. Just be you. Don’t conform.
Imposition especially in careers is the root of mediocrity in our society. Just be a teacher or a doctor, jobs are guaranteed. Why strain to follow your passion? How many artists do you see around? Why guess when you have a clear answer? Utazoea tu! ( The mentioned professions are mere examples, no beef whatsoever, unless you’re crazy, like me! Haha.)
On that line, the dreams are suppressed for mere reality. Reality that no one ought to be spontaneous, artistic, ambitious or out of the norm. It’s out of care, love and ignorance that the best is killed on conception. And out of fear, intimidation and being normal, there’s zero excitement in professional life.
Get out of the normal mentality. Dreams are exciting even though not always smooth. Actually, it is the tough and rough experiences that make exciting stories!
Do not expect your rebellion to be welcomed with open hands. The challenging situation is to convince the rest against status quo. Have facts. Be determined to take risks.
It is the ambitious, rebellious and not so normal people who bring change. Crazy and mad people run the world by popularising the unpopular ideas and practises. conformer are followers, crazy ones the leaders.
Even in a simple elective contest, it is those who promise change who are mostly elected. Change and normalcy are enemies. Normal people are basically followers, and never leaders. Why wait for a preacher to interpret the Bible for you while you can do it yourself? Why wait for others until lunch while you are hungry? Why hurt your urinary system till break yet you can walk out?
Rules and regulations are the steering wheels of most organisations. Culture and practices define a people. However, beyond that, let those rules and practises not to bar you from reaching your full potential.
If your family prides itself of great bankers and your passion is engineering or poetry, you don’t owe them a degree in banking, go pursue your passion. Make your own brand, a poet in a banking family!
I learned to accept the mad and crazy names when I learned that room for pretence and lies is diminished in my system. That does not mean I’m impolite, not at all. However, if my answer is no, no matter how desperate you are for yes, I won’t change. There is so much pleasure in doing the right thing, in this case, the truth and following one’s heart and desires unapologetically. This is crucial in self realisation, fulfilling the dreams.
Nothing hurts like watching those who followed the desires of their hearts yet there you are, glued to the family professions, kwetu ni familia ya walimu tangu jadi, kama sio kina baba, ningekuwa mwimbaji!
As a crazy fellow, my answer is simple, rot in regrets or be bold, it’s never that late to do the right thing, be mad and become that musician you were born to be.
Try to be who you were created to be, and you will be before you realize it. The trick is simple dare!
Elsewhere, mincing words like meat to hide the real issues is the biggest form of fear. I have a formula -crazy of course- get the words out on paper if your courage is still toddling , spill all and drop the words to the expected respondent. Otherwise, man up, (even if you’re a lady!) spill the words, carefully, tactfully
and make sure that your version is heard. Keeping all the feelings to yourself will burst your chest, mine has done so twice, the third time is not coming soon!
By now, I know you’re busy planning for my burial. News of my demise is the best thing that you’ve had in years. Don’t even attempt to deny it, how often have you wished me dead?
I can see momma smiling, she can’t leave her potatoes field unattended to mourn me. Whatever you made her, you are good at it. She’s your best sycophant, never questioned your wisdom even once, no wonder she hates me like you do!
Only strangers will wonder why I made the decision, to be hit by the train willingly. All the neighbours know what you were to me. I believe our family dog is steps ahead in value at least to you. It guards your stolen livestock, unlike me who questioned the acquisition method.
Well, for beginners, my father will argue that I am an addict, a marijuana user and even a possessed boy. This I can bet with my already lost life! Our conflict originated in my reluctance to be made a man in the modern ways, I preferred the traditional one, which was denied with utmost malice. This saw me become a man three years later, behind my age mates, a little more disappointed and hurt for I had to go as per your demands. You have no idea what I went through at school. I was jeered, beaten and branded a coward by ‘cut’ fellows who were much younger than me. The modern or church initiation was nothing but an additional dose to my bulging bag of contempt. I have never recovered, and my little head began getting concussions and odd ideas.
Top on the list, was the realisation that your vast piece of land and the skinny heads of cows was a life changing mistake you didn’t know that we knew, we your kids. Your mum, my favourite family member that you banished my tours to her compound had entrusted you to be your siblings trustee only for you to be unreliable. You denied your siblings their inheritance! And unlike the rest I had the guts to tell you that you were wrong, and the cause of our misery lives, we your descendants.
I recall my first outburst, it saw me hanged up on itara as you enjoyed beating me like a stray cat that has eaten a chicken, your fans, mother and my two brothers were busy putting on maize cobs smoke and bringing canes respectively. That was the first time you branded me ‘drug addict ‘ and a used vessel by your brothers to sabotage your command and inheritance by lies. My brothers called me a fool for not being realistic to see that the uncles, or is it junior dads, were on a mission to reduce our share of the land. I wasn’t swayed, which grew your hatred.
When my school opening season knocked, you refused to pay my fees until I bowed to your instructions, which I failed to. I became a lone buffalo, and your battles saw me out of the compound for search of better life, which fate denied me. My return home found you worse. My falling ill and subsequent medication to heavy duty stress drugs gave you a shortcut to send me to the grave. However, my resistance has shocked you for long. The doctor was particulate that I must be well fed before taking the drugs, a rule you violated blissfully. I tried to fight for what I thought right, yet you had the guts to force the drugs into my system while I had nothing in my belly. The effects of these was something closer to madness, a justification you have been riding on, to declare me a social delinquent.
Before taking my life, my grandma has been my motivation to live but since her death, three months ago, I have been surviving on mercy of friends and sympathisers some who have swallowed your tales of my drug use. Everyone has been handling me like an outsider, an outcast and a hopeless boy, something that has raised my doubts too. I have no reason to keep on fighting for a spoiled life. Mr. Chief and the members of Nyumba Kumi have listened to my rants and tried to convince you unsuccessfully. Your claim of my drug use is throwing doubts and when they look at my a times incoherent speeches, they question my sobriety too. At last you’ve won in convincing me to take my life, and rubber stamp your skewed theories.
I can imagine you and brothers drafting the eulogy, getting black suits to celebrate your special victory. Tell them your story, after all I’m doing good, listening to you tarnish my name while I rest peacefully, freed from your intimidation. I can see your rejoice in guilt, for you know I have always told the truth. I love the way you will split up the land to your loyal sons, hypocrites and enemies of justice. Now that your nemesis is gone, feast for your triumph.
A sad reminder is that until you practice fairness and equality, your daughters and sons will lead funny lifestyles, the cry of the oppressed is nothing to joke around with. You are aware that your darling first daughter’s whereabouts are unknown, your brightest son can’t stay in an organisation more than an year despite his First Class grade, your last daughter, a favourite of momma has had five miscarriages, your main sycophant, big brother has lost three wives to cancer or you still believe that it’s natural and normal to lose a son a wasp bite? Those are just but a few highlights to install sense to your Pharaoh headedness. My last wish is that you open your eyes and save your bloodline, all who suffer from your blindness. But you can’t listen to an addict, can you?
Yours In Justice,
I have to bring happiness, for myself and you. PHOTO/COURTESY
The evening is sunny. Hot, too bright that it is best countered by funny wrinkled faces. The little scientific memories of a cat’s enlarged pupils in darkness and reduced ones in bright light hits the head. I feel like a genius. The biology teacher took the whole lesson to explain such a simple idea! That ought to be featured in the title, How Surds And Related Concepts Wasted Our Parents Loans For Unnecesary Pain. That provokes another bitter memory, calculating the time a car takes to over take a lorry blah blah… what for?
We’re walking along the Highway, about thirty kilometres off the monstrous spot that eats people during December holidays, Salgaa. Not that we’re that broke, a little time together is the ultimate goal.
She’s on phone, delivering a lecture. Pissed. Her toes must have been crushed by the ‘student ‘. I’m poor in multitasking, so I choose…
A tired sun hiding for rejuvenation,
Sending tens of hues,
Beautiful colours as it waves good night,
Why not emulate it?
And twist your fatigue to beauty?
By being positive?
The good lake Naivasha reflects,
The wonder view of the sky,
And the eye,
Can only enjoy the scene,
Be the the reflector of goodness,
To spread the optimism,
And like the fresh water lake,
When the darkness logs in,
Blue tick it and wait only for the light,
For ain’t light light and right?
Is littered with lessons,
Like a good therapist,
It gives us hope,
And face challenges boldly…
November brings heaven and hell to the candidates. Not any other month. It is a month when the learners in Kenya face the giant, national exams. The evils associated with the same are undoubtedly the reasons for the change of curriculum. Away from cheating and sleepless nights; there is much that goes unrecorded.
Fallacies, how to make it shortcuts, that drive learners crazy. Most are laughable but others are outright insane.
Sour donkey milk
Sounds farfetched, right? Imagine that it is claimed to be a memory trigger and an effective one for that matter! I don’t have any idea how one gets to milk a donkey but the delicacy not only leads to stomach upsets and unprecedented discomfiture for those dumb enough to taste and test it.
This must have originated from the good fact that fish produce omega 3, a special component that is not only associated with brain replenishment but also with cleansing it. Now, the story goes, if you take a cupful of fish soup be the exams, you’ll recall everything! A few applicants of the same are cited to show how effective it is but hey, it is a big lie!
Yellow sweet potatoes
As the fish tale; there is some sort of a scientific basis that places sweet potatoes with brain replenishment. Where the idea of the yellow ones came from I know not but like an oral narrative, it is believed to work miracles. No tangible proof exists but some learners do all they can to make it their diet during the examination period.
Frozen legs magic
To keep off sleep, learners are told to put their legs in pails full of water during the night study sessions. The fallacy is also based on some analysis that a cold person can hardly sleep but doing it for scholarly gains is going too far and risking the health in the crucial season when it is highly required.
Extending to the wee hours to cover the entire syllabus
This is common, very common. Just summarise your notes or have a revision text book. Run through it across the night and you will hit the exams like nobody’s business for you will recall everything! There goes the stupid advice. And especially for the high school teenagers, some fall for it in the desperate move to impress after wasting their precious school time. Like the rest, it doesn’t work.
This is a common trap. Just a few puffs and you’ll relax and surprise the examiners with how much content you have! It is a fat lie. Daring this and surviving it is the worst decision anyone can ever make. Anyone sending it to the candidates is worse than Judas in the society and deserves more than condemnation.
Well; this is controversial. It is mad to rely on such stunts to achieve in the final exams. A good number of students have regrets for relying on a paper that never materialises. It is starting a life on lies and the truth always reigns will follow those who by chance reap from such violations of the basic virtue, honesty.
The solution is simple. And most a times simple things are the hardest.
Just be relaxed.
Go through your note without rush.
Do not introduce new concepts minutes before the exams.
And finally, believe you have all it takes to pass.
If you have to pray, do it and be ready to reap what you sowed.
Otherwise any attempt to apply the fallacies enlisted will lead to making it to this blog as a laughing stock!
Then for the parents, guardians and those who mind the welfare of the candidates, be there for them, pump them with the best. Pressure not them and simply provide the conducive environment they need, otherwise evil crooks are out to mislead the innocent fellows.
Success to the KCPE and KCSE candidates this year, pass the good message and save souls for thy beloved land!
The night crawls,
You trail it,
And launch a battle,
Penetrating so mercilessly,
Into its untouchable darkness,
With your glowing whiteness…
Lady of the night,
Who has the the might?
To impregnate your light,
I wouldn’t mind a fight,
To sire your sons and daughters,
And possibly intimidate the darkness…
Oh,the shy queen,
With your twinkling friends,
So many miles apart,
Don’t you feel lonely?
And cold without a partner?
Tell me the language you understand,
I want to woo you,
And embarrass thieves,
With their buddies who commercialise goodies,
That make you shed tears,
For no one hits or heats your girdle…
Imagine how cool,
We can fill the sky,
With kids of different shapes, colours,
And dances with our unique moves,
Keeping the world with awe,
And its cameras busy…
When your doors open,
Let me be the first,
To keep your thighs warm,
And ovaries productive,
For the goodness of nature,
And my own legendary pleasure,
Pleasure of immortality,
And fathering a new fleet of moons…
Superbly blended like what lies between us,
From a distance,
The eyes are marveling,
As the world wonders how we wade…
Of our friendly fingers ,
Centres of sensuous nerves,
Sending jitters and twitters in our souls and systems,
Binding us to immortality…
As we swing in the evening,
Focussing forward in the darkness,
We’re ready to kick the night’s madness,
And as the dawn crawls,
We’ll rise with it,
Sanctified and unified,
Like the colour of our shadows…