Forgive or get sick!

If you find yourself holding grudges or taking too long… or never, to forgive yourself or others you should consider reading this post. If you have anger issues or depressive tendencies then come running and feed your mind!

I didn’t know this at first, but I can attest that a couple of times in my life I have gotten so angry, my hands trembled, I stuttered and sometimes couldn’t speak…it got worse when my stomach would churn and I’d get pressured to empty my bowels, and all my intestines attached therein.

I would easily have described it  as ‘Hasira ya Mkisii” and move on with life content with my heritage…but then, i realised people react differently and forgive at different rates, some never forgiving at all. It got me curious and, well, here we are!


So, like many things it starts small, with a spat with someone you care about or an action that angers you. It then matures and turns into resentment and hostility and since at this state its almost impossible to collect yourself, you walk away with a promise never to go back on what you feel. A heavy dose of hurt and disappointment leads you to fall into high levels of anger…chronic anger; as I found out.

Now here is a fact. Did you know that Chronic anger can completely throw you off-balance? You get into a fight-or-flight mode; your heart rate increases, your blood pressure sky rockets and all the while your body struggles to get you back into safety? This unfortunately increases your chances of being depressive, getting a heart disease and diabetes among other illnesses.

So as they insist, forgiveness calms stress levels, leading to your improved health.

More facts…studies have found that the act of forgiveness can reap huge rewards for your health, lowering the risk of heart attack; improving cholesterol levels and sleep; and reducing pain, blood pressure and levels of anxiety, depression and stress.

And as you grow older, this connection increases.

So forgive yourself and those that hurt you. Do it, not for them, but yourself.


So What’s cutting?

Its 2017, and this year, unlike many others, you have vowed to not make any resolutions. You perhaps made so many over the years and ended up accomplishing none. Even worse, you turned out worse than you were in 2015, no? Oh well, worry not. One of my resolutions is not to make any either. But…

I still want to be different. I feel different anyways so I might as well live as I feel, right? There are a couple if things I realise we need to work on to make these actually happen. There we go. Those are plain and outright resolutions right there! Sigh! I give up. I do have resolves, I want to share them as they may work for you too and yes, I’m going to shove them down your throat in just a bit.So, hold on, before you make any move…I’m not giving away any guarantees but, these could make that little difference.

Mind your own business

People don’t really care about you or what you do if it doesn’t affect them. Most of them, at no_one_cares_cartoon_round_sticker-r31fbfc8382b740d5ac6edf462f6d5b0a_v9waf_8byvr_324least, (eye-roll) so mind your own business and stop telling people what you did unless you’re sharing tips on what worked well on something they could do too…that, or you’re better off sharing it as a testimony (eye-roll)

Take up a project. Seriously!

It could be on yourself, your business, if you don’t have one already, or for someone. I’ll share a few examples…

  • If you have some free time during or after work, take up a free course on how to improve yourself. Even better, pick something you know is challenging or something you have shelved for a while. If you like to draw or write, put a up blog and put it down..or take up voice lessons for fun. You never know where this could lead you to.
  • Take advantage of current situations and problems and do something for your business…or start one. They say necessity is the mother of invention. We are a third world country and well, so much lacks! However, be careful not to throw money on a project you haven’t researched well on and worse, don’t get tricked into jumping on other people’s ideas. You’re creative. Yes, you are.
  • Do something for someone…this works best with someone who deserves your time. ways-on-how-you-can-help-your-child-perform-better-in-school-725x445It could be junior colleague you can mentor, your child who probably has shown interest in a musical class or your spouse who is jobless and perhaps, idle. Do something…we don’t have to call it a resolution as long as you feel the difference.

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BeTrue To Yourself

Marriage and relationships…my favourite topics of all times; my baby projects; wait, that sounds off. Let’s just put it this way. These two are part of a passion I have to improve in life. They are the only reason I wish I was not born in Africa and much less amongst polygamous and or chauvinistic men. The reason why I wish my fellow women would be as God created us to be. This world has become rotten and patchy, like an old coat all tattered and torn. We are merely surviving in it. Men are perfecting the art of cheating, while women have become worse than men…and the funny thing is that we are constantly blaming each other for our picked up habits. You may hate me after this but in my opinion; we need to ask God to send Jesus back for some briefing before his second return… I mean it. That may just be our only hope.
We women have become greedy. We want everything, sorry if you are my friend and this is who you are… surely if we are feathers of the same bird, then you must agree with me that we have totally lost it. Our men…ok not in first persona…men and women alike have lost their interest in marrying for love. Its as though to become competent for love, one must have a reputable job, or stable no, not stable but blue chip business (Is there anything like that even?) a car, and all things shiny. Other women have opted to seek these material things for themselves and end up showing their men spite. Even the Bible itself condemns such a woman. It is better for a woman to be alone than to mistreat her man. Note, I mean her man, not any bloke out there. I am not giving men power to walk all over women here. I am trying to be as fair and as just as possible. In the same way we say every teardrop a woman sheds because of a man is collected somewhere, what should we say of a woman who makes a man…a whole man strong and built, hurt. Is it not a curse? Keep reading.
If you find a person who in all ways loves you truly, no matter their faults, as long as their love is pure and true, and evident to you and you trample over it, then you are less what God intended you to be. Note I am trying hard not to use the word inhuman. Almost everyday I meet great people seeking great relationships, others are trapped in meaningless ones, struggling to make them their dream…it’s as useless as pumping a sack. If only the good could meet their counterparts and live happily ever after. If only this happily ever after existed.
Just yesterday, our MPs passed the bill to allow having more than one wife without consulting their spouses… and it is proudly announced on air, tabling silly statements and beating their chests quoting The Old Testament that Jesus discarded himself. Sorry if I sound preachy, I am just saddened at where we are headed. If men were to marry, they would without letting us know anyway, whether we consent or not, but why allow it despite it being a sin…why not just sin alone and be condemned on your own? And we claim to be a Christian country. Lord, help us. This brings a bad taste to my mouth.
To those of us doing a super great job at being the better person, kudos, and May you always find favour wherever you go. It’s good being selfless. It’s even better to do something with your own accord; with no supervision. If you love your wife as you do the church, then stick to one church and have a stand. If you love your man, don’t punish him. Give your best like there is no tomorrow. Even if you get hurt, it should feel good that you gave your best while you were at it. Do not revenge, do not pay evil with evil lest you end up losing yourself and who you were meant to be. Being mean and nasty or tough does not make you respected or even attractive…being your true self; the one you were intended to be is what really matters in the end. Think about it.

Love the Kenyan way Pt 2

A typical African man will want to be like his father. “I am my father’s son!” he will go about thumping his chest. Probably the very same way his father would say about his grandfather. However, the Kenyan man is making an effort to pull away from this trend. If his father was abusive and violent, and gave is mother no respect, then he strives to be his exact opposite. I know of some ladies who celebrate the birth of a boy child, not because an heir has finally risen; but because when this boy grows up, his mother will enjoy full protection against an abusive man.
This post is not all about abusive men. This just gives me a perfect example of what happened in our father’s time that doesn’t happen now…well not so much. Back in the day, a young man would literary chase down a young beautiful woman while on her way to serve boiled yams to her grandmother. The chase would be intense and with the help of other young men, she would be made his wife almost instantly. As a wife, a woman’s place was the kitchen and the children. She would ensure everyone is well fed, cleaned up and that her husband gets the best share of everything available.
Since we have very few historic books to guide us in our effort to emulate our fore fathers, we tend to seek counsel from our families. Our priorities have changed. Basic needs are no longer food water or shelter; and not in that order anyway. To survive earth, you need health, wealth, fame… and the rest follow…in that order.
Now, to find love in Kenya, you must
• Be rich, or pretend to be
• Be some body’s previous…even current husband, wife, boyfriend or girlfriend…you just need that kind of experience
• Be a home-maker and at the same time a money-maker…showing potential will do too
• Be ready to test your reproductive offence.
Now before those eggs and tomatoes come crashing on my face, this is merely my opinion no research team, hired. Here are my reasons in form of questions:-
• Why would a man have to borrow a friend’s jeep to floss and get a girl to go out with him?
• Why would my husband be a target for young lads in a joint simply because he wore the two dazzling silver rings I bought him on his birthday?
• Why would a woman want my husband barely months after we got married? And why would a man want to try and confuse me just before I say ‘I do’?
• Why would a man sleep with your house-help yet when you lose your job he would thrash you like a three year old?
• Why do we all… (hehe am a culprit here) choose to have babies before saying ‘I do’ ? Do we doubt what we are capable of, really?
Man, don’t we make our mothers’ cry! Much as we are being westernised, its nice that we are still retaining what our fathers taught us. These Mombasa cases should never be heard of again. Here are my 3 cents, for whatever it counts. Don’t name your children animals anymore. We have a God to believe in so Simba? really? Well at the same time… those wazungu names we use and we have no idea what they mean… lets do more research. We cannot have a blonde’s name residing in south Nyanza. Men, if your wife is beautiful, don’t step all over her so that she loses her confidence and sticks to you. She chose you to be the only one who can have her no matter how many salivate after her. Men, polygamy is illegal before the law and a sin before God…nothing to give Caesar here. You cannot date someone for two years, love her and want to marry her only to ask what your folks think on the day of the ruracio. How do you expect them to love her in a day when it took you months? And anyway, what if they don’t like her… were they there when you fell head over heels for her? Certainly not! and neither will they be there when she rocks your night and makes you go gaga over her. Did I censor this post earlier on?
Women, when you man loses his job, don’t laugh and tell everyone who cares to listen about it. Cover him up…show him you are his best friends as we know our true friends when we have nothing to offer. Hard as it may be, please him… for men, a good session of love making cures everything from flu to low self-esteem. Don’t punish him because he never bought you that god coated ring. A man may be led by his body to want another woman about you, but when he remembers what you have been to him…that’s when he can make a decision. Let’s keep being Kenyan. Let’s make Kenyan love spicy, peeps.

When the Monster Attacks…

mental health
What do you know about Mental health?

All I know is you could be having it, yet you have no idea. Mental instability us living deep in your mind to the point where you shut of the world…and it probably comes out when you find yourself asking those many questions that do not have an answer to. It sometimes comes out when the world gives you too hard a challenge or perhaps, we are the ones too weak to believe in ourselves? Do you know mental instability is not necessarily having a man stripped naked walking in the middle of a highway…neither is it just that person who constantly talks to himself. And the reason a person going through depression will not eopenly tell you what he is going through is very simple. We, the society are too quick to brand them a bunch of crazy folks. Listen to this voice that quietly cares…

It started out like a joke, when he told me he had trouble sleeping. He would make me promise to wake him up if I saw him struggle in his sleep. Later, on some nights, he would make peculiar noises, like those of someone struggling to wake up. It was as if he was calling out for help. “Wake me up! Someone! Anyone! Please!!” he seemed to cry out amidst gagged sleep.
Some days are long, some short; some electrifying, others all entirely puzzling. We sometimes go out for errands, happy to be in each other’s company. We share a lot of jokes and enjoy stolen romantic moments. He knows I love hugs so he occasionally pulls me in his arms and searches deep in my eyes; searching for an assurance that our worlds are entwined.
Then, out of nowhere, his face drops; like a hot stone in an ice land. His reaction to me gets cold and each question I ask is followed by harsh looks and rage, pending, about to blow up. Finally, when all my comforting is exhausted and my patience dead beat, he snaps and asks me to shut up for I aggravate him with my concerns. I cringe and keep to myself, wondering and recounting my steps to find out what exactly I did to anger him so. I walk on and he throttles behind, disgusted by his own shadow; saddened by my fears. I see him gradually cool off and try to get close to me again. “I’m sorry, hun,” he tries. “What did I do?” I am deeply worried at what I saw. He tries to explain, but it’s not easy because it’s not any usual character. “I get these episodes, and when I am low, I never want to talk.” He explains, “Each time you ask me what is wrong, I ask myself the same thing and it makes me angry that I feel that way, and the more you ask, the more it burrows deep. It can get to a point where I cannot stand myself anymore.” This is when I realise what he goes through hurts him so much more than it worries me. He called it Bi-polar; the monster in charge of his moods. It’s like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and each morning I wake up expecting either of them. Even as I promise not to push him while at his low, I quietly wonder how I am supposed to know who is with me if I do not ask.
I wish for him to get better; secretly, I pray and fast hoping beyond all hopes that this goes away. I hate to accept that it remains engraved in him, yet I wear my hope around my neck, believing; trusting beyond all natural things that one day he will look around and realise how blessed he is. If only I could take him on a trip in my world, and share with him the little things that make my world glamorous. He would be surprised to see the things he sees each day and discards them as boring usual stuff, are the very same things that make my life what it is. If only I could show him how little we need to enjoy life, or even how his very being has impacted my own life. If only he understands that it’s the simplicity of being able to breathe that makes this world what it is, and how he does not need anyone’s approval to be able to enjoy life. If only he could read this piece and feel my hand holding his, assuring him that I will always walk with him as that staying by his side makes my life worth every second. If only he could put his mane aside for a little while and enjoy the feeling this article bears out from me.

The Beautiful Ones Keep Getting Born; We Just Miss Out

I am not always annoyed. I do smile a lot; even laugh sometimes… I discovered that true joy comes even when I am not necessarily happy. I know it makes no sense, but it works when you have that faith and belief that nothing ever on this earth lasts for ever. That includes our problems. I have been hurt, cheated, insulted, and almost stabbed, I think. And at that time, my world was filled with a lot of sadness. I found myself hanging on to men who would never hang on to me. I particularly sort the beautiful ones; yes, the ones too handsome, they’d start looking beautiful; the ones that everyone else would fight me to death for.

I thought I was beautiful enough to keep the other girls away. I thought what I saw in the movies could work for us. The spark I felt when I saw them gaze in each others’ eyes remained stronger in me than them and it died a few years ago when I followed them up online and discovered it was just an act. I lived in a fantasy bubble that I never quite needed anyone to burst. I was that Snow White that enjoyed the dreams in her sleep even when my prince was miles away. My parents never helped much when they bought me the whole collection of the fantasy children’s books. Rapunzel made it; so did Cinderella and snow white so why not me? Just last year they tried to bring my fantasy alive with a movie they called Snow White and the Huntsman…I held my breath for a second, thinking the spark would come alive…but there still was no happily ever after. Maybe then I would have told you I’m the worst person to talk of realistic love. But I’m not; true love still shines even when you are old and wrinkly and your husband tells you, “Honey, I love how they form around your eyes when you smile”



I am not saying the handsome ones make the worst husbands, or that beautiful wives make the best home-makers, no! But you need to remember that good looks are a mere temporary state. It’s a survival mechanism for attraction to form relationships. Imagine if the whole world had ugly men and women with really foul smells. We would only be there for procreation but we would never quite stand each other. We would probably only seek males and females in total darkness only.  So get my point here. Good looks serve the major purpose to bring the attraction thing going. Once you find each other, look beyond it. Seek the beauty in character and in the heart.  Once you find it, then you know you will be in it for long, for sure.

Snow White

Most women I know, including myself, enjoy the attention of being admired. It boosts our confidence and makes out men proud to have chased and won us over. One thing we constantly forget is that the world out there is full of these major kinds of people.

Those who really care

Those who never notice

Those who steal and

Those who kill

Those who care: – Care enough to respect a woman even when she is over-the top, beautiful. They admire a beautiful woman and constantly get the urge to want to be their protector and have them around always. This kind of a man won’t mind what you look like when you wake up in the morning or when you just removed your wig. They will watch you to see if you too can appreciate beyond what he uses to attract your attention. Will you still stick around if he needs to sell his car? Will you help him iron his creased shirt or will your pretend not to know him when he shows up in one? If despite all the beauty you hold or the great looks you have, you still care for your partner, you are the almost perfect type and anyone would like to keep you around longer.

Those who never notice; – actually do notice, only, they don’t give it much attention. This kind of person can meet a very beautiful looking woman who loves what she does and does it well; and later, start changing them into something else. Suddenly, she is warned to dress differently or to refrain from doing her hair a certain way. They become advisors and tell you what they think works better for you. Instead of making you a better person, they choose to bring you down and get to be the one in control. This happens mostly with the chauvinistic type of men. They will make sure to take away your beautiful glow and make you miserable in your relationship. As a result, you lose your confidence and self esteem and for ever stick around them since you believe that only they like you and can stand your flaws. These are the kind on people you meet and wonder what happened. Are they bewitched or what? What a waste of goodness!

Those who steal: – are the ones I constantly meet. They are all over the place! I am not sure you have noticed that most men and women get more attractive when they are in great relationships or when they get married. You may not know this but your skin glows when you are settled and happy unlike when you are hurting from heartbreak or when you are miserable and stuck in it. I get hits on my online sites by men who despite seeing that I am married and seem happy, still hit on me. These are thieves who want to take short cuts to get someone they are interested in. they never last in their relationships though since they have no idea how to maintain the glow. For them, the solution would be to hop over and steal a better, happier and exciting looking partner.

Those who kill: – Now these are the ones I warn people to stay away from. These have no regard for others and whenever they see something good, they bring it down by comparing with a better one. Or worse still steal, eat and kill for no one else to admire. Heard of rapists and those psychos who get locked up? Indeed. Be careful of serial rapists and murderous who get too overwhelmed with life’s normalcy they get sick of it. Talk to me and let me know what other sorts of people you know.

I am a busy, Happy woman :)

Finally, I sneaked into the bathroom to steal a few words with you. See how much I care for you? I can stand the foul smell of the new toilet cleaner as I balance my heavy laptop on my lap, so I’m trying to punch in as many words as I can, with one hand, while the other holds its joint.

Outside this room life is spinning so fast I am getting countless headaches. Who said its easy working three jobs at a go? I raised my collar claiming I could do it. I only realised it was way beyond me when I was given a main story and a feature to work on alongside the ten I was meant to submit in a month. Sounds easy right? Sit here and let me explain some more (dragging you closer by the ear)

I am an administrator in a PR firm. That is my main job. That’s where I report to each day, get off days and fill up assessment forms. I am the one who calls chief accountants and other administrators, and we speak the ‘I-Want-Money-I-Will-Not-Give-You-Any language. When you come to our office, I am still the one who will open the door for you…or not J so I get the ‘There is the secretary’ look quite often. I never mind really. I love my desk.  It’s a great job as I get to bird watch against the tints on my window; I never get busted J, I window shop for bridal shoes and tiaras online and well, once in a while, update my blog. Challenges do come when another company we are hosting at our office bring in a lot to my desk. They too think I am a secretary and I am made to call and make appointments with the ‘who is who’ all over Africa. It’s boring sometimes especially when I call some countries like Sudan and all I hear are strange sounds, a question mark and some silence. Just when I am about to quit this new overwhelming profession, the Asian manager buys me a camera as a thank you gift. We are in great terms now, although he still never understands why I am always too busy on Tuesdays.

Tuesdays are my deadline for submitting articles to a local newspaper I write for. I hold two columns; one is fun and exciting and the other, well, let’s just say my husband calls it ‘Justly and professionally boring’. It’s too true! So when the editor gave me a main story, I thought I could do it so easily. But that was not to be. It wasn’t easy searching for people to interview…and I am not sure I want to do main stories anymore! It’s overwhelmingly demanding. People love publicity yet they are allergic to photos.

The other problem is that much as I blab too much here, that’s all I’m mostly good at. I am not good with the public and I am still scared stiff if meeting new people…

My sister in-law got me a book, ‘Talk your way to the top’. Its really nice, considering I am not such a good reader… 🙂 Don’t wonder how I get to write so well 🙂  (Enough. This post has a little too many smiles) and now that I am getting my courage in good communication, it’s making me very naughty. I understand people better, page after page and I got to admit, my crazy ideas don’t just crack the roof; they tear away the damn thing.

Working three jobs, planning a wedding, raising a toddler and being a good wife is tough, but again I will insist; I am not dead and I am not thin…:) (damn another one!) so it’s possible to work it out. In fact its fun being busy!

Juggling with life

I’ve got myriad of ideas on what to change in my life and not a single way to start. Maybe it’s because I’ve been reading a lot, or watching too many drama movies. Maybe because I’m changing careers or because I’m still establishing a map layout and I got several options before I place my bets. In my mind I’m in a casino.

 I juggle my ideas in my hands, the way I would with chips, carefully watching the croupier’s every move. This croupier is none other than fate. The very fate I look up to when I wish, the same fate I curse in despair and hopelessness when nothing seems to works. This damn fate still rises in my mind when I can only hope. Fate won’t aid, not ever.  He only plays with what I lay on the table. He lets me float in the armor of making the decisions then gladly aims to hungrily gobble up all my sowed seeds and bluntly stares on, waiting for me to take the disappointment in, hope in him and once again, bet.

He spins the ball and shouts, “Place your bets!” then waits for me to place my chips on my preferred numbers. I do. He never warns, nor advises, he simply watches, expressionless, perhaps with a precipice heart. Who knows, he probably wishes for me to lose so he can innocently blame the aftermath on the spinning ball. He probably smirks in his heart when I make a wrong move and lose. Because then I’ll have to buy more chips and go yet another round.  If I win, He takes his time to reward me. Counting and recounting the chips, just so to be sure it’s not more. Suddenly his math skills flew out the window. He may pay less, but that’s for the inspector to discover. The inspector here acts as the government. It’s even worse since I’m in Kenya as I know the corrupt minded inspector will ally with the croupier to tighten my blindfold, and unless  the floor manager is on my side I’m dabbed the ignorant fool who lives a great life and dies without future plans (whether I’m off to heaven or hell), so I go straight to hell. The floor manager here depicts God.

The spinning ball slows down and jumps carelessly on the numbers, unable to control its motion. This ball is the damned judge who rules whether I made a great choice or if I’m damned.  I’m watching its every move as my very life balances on this tiny thing’s final stop. The moment it stops, I get on my feet eager to receive my judgment.  I see the wrong paths I took and watch as my lost chips land mercilessly in the deck. My fist tightens in anger, despite knowing it’s a choice I’d made myself. I stare on jabbering curse words to myself and obviously at fate. I still have few chips on the winning number; a few on 35, several on 17 and an 8. Not too bad I can always make up for the lost chips with the winning ones.

On the next round, I get even better. I move on to poker. I have learnt enough already from roulette so poker should be better, I hope. See? Hope is still in my head because I vowed in the name of a stranger called  fate that I would eventually conquer; I play a different game on the same ground. The inspector cares even less while the floor manager keeps pacing the floor to ensure balance. This time I have to be wiser. I wait for the croupier to lay the first three cards. He does and I watch him, cat-eyed. It’s as though I can see right through his fingers, straight to the face of the cards.

“Place your bets!” he goes again. This time I study my set of cards and weigh out all my options. I plan ahead. My mind is a crystal this time around. I carefully place my bet. I take a risk and my heart tells me to hope, even more. The croupier’s eyes are roaming the layout.  When his gaze lands on my bet, he stops and a smile cracks the corner of his face. He too knows he’s cornered. His gaze moves to me. He doesn’t have to open his mouth. I can read his face already. “You little lucky witch!” he says.

He displays his hidden cards out for all to see. Bingo! It’s unfathomable but hey, it’s just my lucky day! I grin broadly and soon I’m laughing out loudly; taking in all the amusement and pleasure of success and fame; a true feeling of ecstasy. I know some of my mates are jealous and rumors will probably start their round that I cheated.  Others will hate me for succeeding and plan my execution.  Who knows, some will out of nowhere be my new-found friends!

In my young life I have made many right and wrong choices; monetary, love and relationships, school, friends and have repaid dearly. For my dark actions, I have been cheated, robbed, Heartbroken, insulted, beaten (only by my father and teachers), defeated, the list is endless. On the other hand for the right, I have been loved immensely, cared for, taught, advised and encouraged, all which have made up for all the mischances. I have learnt to be tenacious, with all the push and pull life remits, annoying as it can be. I realized that I grow stronger from these occurrences.

Keep them coming then. What can’t kill me, will mould me…well unless, I start seeing my doppelganger. Crap! My parents saw mine and called me at 6:30am in the morning to ask why I was ignoring them as they passed me on Outer Ring road. I was taking a shower then. If  it gets to that point, then God help, because I’m going to need lots of hugs!