My House help’s dramatic escapedes

The day I had for so long been dreading finally came. I wasn’t prepared. No one really is and the most we can do is make do with the situation you find yourself. I left work at four as usual and almost literary ran home to my baby… and Pesh and her daddy. OK, who am I kidding? I only run home to baby Raine. The rest can always wait. I got home to find she had just fallen asleep and Vivianne was taking a bath. Instinctively, and without a break to rest I put on my apron and started cleaning the day’s dishes. I try hard to minimize the number of chores Vivianne forgoes during the day in an effort to keep her sanity and mine on a high. Soon, she was out of their room looking fab and fresh. I smiled and thought to myself that she most certainly had a date. She wore a dress I had gifted her just recently. This dress meant a lot to me: I bought it after my very first temporary job and wore it when I was crowned 1st runners up in a modeling contest back in college. It was one of those items I held on to until the beginning of this year when I made a resolution to move past my past attire-‘ristically’.

How it all started

She left claiming to want to fix her broken phone and I did not hesitate to say OK as I knew she had other plans besides that. Meanwhile I took advantage of the sleeping baby to clean some clothes and prepare dinner. Three hours later, at around 8pm, something made me want to check to see if Viviane’s belongings were home. Everything was intact especially her latest new clothes and her phone charger. It didn’t look like she was going away for even a day, but only a phone call would confirm that. I called three times before she finally picked the phone. Her voice was broken and she sounded like a man. “Hi mom,” She started, “Viv?” I probed. “No, my name is Collins and I would like to talk to you”, was the reply. Thoroughly infuriated, I told Collins that if I wanted to speak with him I would have dialed his number and immediately asked to speak with the owner of the phone. Vivianne came on the line sounding submissive like Collins was her colonizing husband. She claimed this man wanted to speak with me despite her frantic efforts to stop him.

boy girl
“He wants me to sleep over…and be his wife” Oh wait, I didn’t get that right. Was this boy asking me boldly to have sexual relations with my house help? Why not just have it and let us move on with life? I was exasperated. Vivianne had two things to do, sleep over his place and live there for ever or come back home immediately where I planned to send her back to her parents. I though Collins might as well make that trip to fetch his soon to be bride from the right people. My mind raced, thinking how disappointed I was that Vivianne could build such a great rapport over four years only to crash it down in just a few hours. I felt let down and knew it would take time to heal. She chose not to sleep home and I was left to organize the children with my husband. Would Justin let me go to work and stay home with both our children or would he be like most men and ask me to stay home?
Night stand of sleep-over?

The night was sombre sad and half empty. OK, make that a quarter empty, or even better yet, with just one empty slot. There is nothing like getting used to someone who doesn’t belong. The space Viv left felt large, ugly and empty. Like an open wound that was better off left open. We all hated it especially since she had left unexpectedly. Pesh was confused and kept asking where Vivianne was. She went to bed that night still doubting our elusive responses. It was on a Tuesday night; right in the middle of the week. What a day she picked to mess me up. I hang on to the last memory I had of her, leaving with a lame excuse to go repair her phone yet her made up face , hair and dressing perfectly placed her on the laps of a loved one… a male loved one. I shook my head hard to get rid of that last thought. It was enough that I had spoken to that scumbag. A good for nothing idiot that had no concern for the time of his actions; funny how a man can totally bamboozle a woman and yank her out of a great opportunity only to land squarely on poverty and the outcomes that come with it. I was not a happy woman.

The following day, I woke up to my husband’s assurance that all would be well. “On second thought, I could just report to work and come right back,” I offered and all he did was shake his head. “Just go. I will let you know if I don’t manage.” was his calm response. I left with my head looking behind my shoulder as if waiting for him to call me back. I thought he was joking, but I realized he wasn’t when I disappeared round one corner and the house was completely out of sight. I immediately pulled my phone out and stared at it, still in disbelief that he would let me go to work. He didn’t call, he sent a text message. ‘I am back in bed. Both girls asleep, breakfast ready in wait’ I smiled and settled in my heart. Something told me he would be just fine and I believed that ‘thing’.

That same thing made me want to call Viv just as I boarded a bus. It was as though she was chanting at her phone and casting a spell on it, hoping I call her. Since her phone was completely ruined, unless she borrowed a handset, all hope was lost. It rang. I had given in to the urge. “Did you sleep well?” I asked and she responded positively. I asked if she was hurt and she said no, then I turned cold. “Pesh’s daddy doesn’t want you home.” She went silent, making me check if the call had dropped. “’are you there?” I probed and she asked again what I had said about Pesh’s dad. That seemed to have touched some part of her. Hmm, she still has some respect. That’s impressive. I thought and went on to hand over the ultimatum. She had up until noon to tell me what she had decided to do with her life; come back or move in with her boyfriend. I hang up, squirmed in my seat to get my comfort spot and continued to read from the page I had left the previous evening.

Love your wife wholy; not only in need

To all chauvinists out there, and all those who are not sure if they are or not…this is to you. It’s very sad to meet a grown up man, surprisingly not yet extinct, who thinks so lowly of women. Or that fool who treats women like crap and goes on to shower their mothers and sisters with love. Honestly, how ignorant can one be? When women fight for equal rights, do not think we seek them because we have air between our ears. It’s because women feel the pressure bestowed on men, who they so dearly love. As a result they decide to leave their nests, hire someone to watch their babies so that they can go out to look for money to cushion their men from financial distress.

AS I write this, I wish to thank my husband for letting me go to work while he stayed home with both our daughters, on a day when our house girl was away, I especially commend him for the exceptional job he did with our three month old Raine. Justin, I am still speechless.

For those still wearing iron masks, remember that it was initially your sole duty to be a provider. If you still beat up your chest and claiming that your woman is just a woman and nothing more, then you are not deserving of a wife, or a female companion for that matter; not in the 21st century. This is unless you give her everything she can ever ask for and never getting tired of her asking them of you. Most men i know quickly get tired of this and can easily resolve to violence to ease their frustrations.

Bear a child.
For those men who do not know this, if you are inflicted by half the pain a woman goes through during labour and the delivery of your child, you will barely be alive. Now, this woman agrees to have your child, ( I believe it’s a choice we make to bear them right?) while you sit somewhere in a bar with friends being rewarded for enjoying the child- making time and hardly looking after your wife while she was expectant…oh wait! You probably were the one who frustrated her all the way to the delivery room! Insisting that she cooks without help from the house help( with valid reasons), letting her go for clinic check ups on her own, dismissing her cravings…oh sure, you know exactly what it is you do. After your child comes, not in a million years will you be caught, not even ‘kwa camera ya mbao’ changing the baby’s diapers or giving him a bath. You will sit at a corner and watch angrily as your young child takes over your territory. Later when your wife is exhausted and suffering a back pain for the work she did without your help, you go on and ask for service.

Working Mama
Those with working wives, you easily forget that your wife is equally tired ate the end of each day yet you expect her to be home by 5 and cook in time for your arrival. Some employers are fed up with you when you stop your wives from attending meetings outside office or from going on team-building activities. You are a pain in their butts. You doubt your wife’s ability to be her best at work and to make her remain just a woman; you make unrealistic demands and insult her intelligence. You forget this woman is your greatest defender; the only one person who will stick with your should you lose your job. You think you are doing your woman a favour when you propose to her? Think again. Once married, you are the ones who gain the prestigious vitambis while you insult her distorted body shape after baby number one. You are the one who will sit and read the morning dailies while she runs around like a headless chicken trying to make you and your babies comfortable. Just because you are the head of the house, it does not mean the necklace around your neck is not noticeable. Take good care of your wife, support her and help her with the babies and your house when she is overwhelmed. You will not only be rewarded by long life, you will also be a happy man, being rewarded constantly for having a heart big enough to share. To those women with great husbands, reward them with as much as you can, let them be a motivation to love them everyday, take care of their every need. Let us not take for granted what God put beside us, lest you are forced to learn the hard way that you only know the value of something once it’s gone. Like Jesus said, “Now go ye and do good” Happy Easter

To My Precious Girls with Love

Just the other day, as it seems, I held you in my arms for the first time. The doctor showed you to me to confirm that you were my precious little Raine and not Oden as I would have named my son. Forget about Xenia…if it were really you haunting my dreams back then just know I was not ready then and I wouldn’t want to be reminded of that past now. I was happy to meet you. Weighing barely 2.9 kilos you looked so tiny and helpless yet peaceful and contended with where God placed you, in my arms. I loved you from the very moment I knew you were growing in me; I loved you more when I met you. You are beautiful, even when you cry, you tiny mouth curls up in a very cute pout and sometimes I forget you are crying because you look so stunning!
I need to leave
Time flies, my love. I cannot believe I am telling you this already, but I have to go back to work. You may not understand it now, but I actually signed up for this the moment I decided to become a working mom. I needed to help your father, that’s what good wives do; they act as the neck to the head. Oh my, this you will also not understand now. I write this as I also plan myself for my first week at work. I can tell you for sure that I am not looking forward to this at all. i had changed my schedule to fit into yours, my life was all about you, your sister Pesh, your daddy and our house. I hardly moved away from home just so I could give my children the best of my time. I hope I have given you a great welcome these last three months. I hope you do not forget me, hun. That is one of my biggest fears. See, I was with your sister for about eight months when I had her and leaving her was pretty bearable as she was a lot older than you are now. She was weaned and…Oh dear, it still wasn’t easy leaving her behind. I guess I’m just being a normal mom here. Simply put, I am not used to leaving any of my children at any one point in my life; it’s devastating.
p & R
You are my world
Pesh, I had a great time bonding with you, helping you with your homework each day and well, fighting with you to eat, clean up after yourself and sleep. You may have made me want to run up the wall but in the end, I would not barter this experience for anything in this world. I may start taking you to school next term, I hope I manage to juggle all these and still remain you and Raine’s super mom. I love both of you with every bit of me and even if you see less of me, I still love you to bits. One day when you grow up, you will understand that I am doing this for you; for a better life for you my girls and our family. I can’t believe its time already.

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.

End Year with a Bang!

Every birth is unique…every pregnancy different in its own way. Having Pesh was not easy…Hell! No normal delivery is ever any easy ‘cept for our lucky sisters who sneeze those babies out! Damn those lucky mamas. Sad to say, I am not one of them. I am specially designed to go on a painful bender of intense labour to last a minimum of eight hours. God must have captioned that with (no resting breaks for this one) somewhere. He probably wore that tihihi-smile when he did that too! I just don’t know why he won’t let me have it easy.
It was on the sunny afternoon of the 27th day of December 2013. It was quiet, and broke. The air stunk of hang-overs, morning beer-locks and lots of drowsiness. Following Christmas and Boxing Day, this was the laziest day of the season yet. I was awakened by the awareness that our baby may arrive soon. I quickly grabbed my now crampled, overused and worn out to-do-list and went through it for the umpteenth time. Everything seemed to be ready…well everything except for the author of that list!
I looked around the house and noticed a few flaws; the comforter in our bedroom was not condusive for a newborn, what with all the dust that collects: the seats in the living room had some threads hanging loose underneath them and the picture frames had some fine threads from the wet cleaning Vivianne had recently done. I grabbed the douvet leaving my husband more puzzled than annoyed; I cleaned it up, and then went on to stitch up the threads make the seats neat. I cleaned the frames once more and dusted the window sils. It was lunch time already and I had just one more thing to do. Buy milk in bulk.
I asked Vivianne to clean up the five litre bottle and get ready so I may show her where the milk vendor is stationed at. She did so while I finished my meal…and the first contraction, like a silly joke started. It was an annoying pain that lasted about fifteen seconds. Deep down, I knew that was it, but I had to be very sure before taking any steps. Justin woke up late with a nasty headache from all the partiying and late night football games. “Eat up well and quickly”, I advised. You may not have your next meal soon” The problem with my husband is he never takes anything lightly even when you wish he would if only to make things easier to bear with. He instead panicked and Mrs Mwambi ended up assuring him at the end of each contraction. After an hour of consistent contractions, we called my sister and her husband who accompanied us to the hospital. My parents were on their way back from holiday and I would have called my mommy to pray for me first. Doesn’t every child believe in her mommy’s prayers? Unfortunately, she, like my husband would have panicked too so I held on to this information till they got to Nairobi.
I was admitted and checked up. By that time, my contractions were getting unbearable to the point I could not sit and wait in line so I was on my knees even as the doctor asked me the usual questions. On My water was not broken so doc pricked it and let it run. It was not clear coloured. Baby had let out her first poop in the uterus. Doc checked out the heartbeat and said it was normal… that she was not tired yet. With my now very painful contractions, part of me wished for a c- section. Yes, even Jesus did ask God to take away the cup of pain at some point! I didn’t think I could take any more pain and I was already feeling tired. The doctor’s next decision left me feeling even more exhausted. “Your baby is active and pushing its way out well” he started. “Her heartbeat is normal and even though she pooped in the water, the active labour only means she has not swallowed this water so it will only be risky if we let you labour on slowly. We will progress you into the last stages of labour and have you deliver normal but hopefully in half the time!” this would have been great news, but only to everyone else. I read in between the lines. This meant more pain for me! I was put on a drip; that which they call the painful waters…and painful to hell and back it was. It was about 8pm and I had dilated at 4 cm only. I was meant to go another 4-5 hours. But that would have been too late for baby. In exactly two hours, with a lot of screams, wails, moans, curses and questions directed at God, Baby Raine finally made her way out; and she distorted my pelvic bone as she made her grand entrance into the world.
She was such a tiny little being weighing 2.9, about 200 grams less what Pesh weighed. She screamed and only settled when they placed her on my belly and I could not believe such a tiny person could make me scream our ancestors out of their resting place. Trully she had already marked her place in this world and I loved her to bits.
The one thing I still find peculiar is just why and how in the last two hours of my labour, Pesh was cranky, had a fever and seemed disillusioned…she would have been rushed to hospital by my parents since they found all our kids at their place, but the problem was that at the same time, my brother and mom had extremely weird stomach pains.At the hospital, my sister also had her fair share of stomach pains which we all assumed to be the sympathetic syndrome. At 10:15pm, right after I had gotten Raine, everyone was well again. No pain, no fevers! Now I need an explanation to that one!
So we are home now, enjoying Raine’s wee cries and Pesh’s over protective behaviour. It’s truly beautiful, and this is how I crossed my year into 2014. Pics coming soon! Happy New Year folks!

Touching up the interiors…

I like the progress I have made so far. I love the way the human mind works. It seems whenever you move something from its original spot, you notice the area around it. I gave us a deadline of this year to do most of the furnishings in the house. Actually till the end of October. We have made quite some progress on this and yes, we did it diligently. We were working with our pace and at the same time saving up. There is no such comfort as knowing you have back up somewhere…more like a cushion for you to fall on should an emergency come up.So this is what I have been working on lately.

I gave my bedroom top priority. It looked really bad with marks on an unpainted wall, and barely shelves to use as storage. When you have something so tiny and survive with it, each day you find yourself dreaming of big things. Like the wardrobe I sought in every supermarket for many days. They were all too costly and still looked weak. So I went to my trusted fundi and showed him some photos I got online. We re-created a new model of my wardrobe as big as my dream was. It is a double door- sliding (for the sake of space and all attached to the wall. Its extension is a dressing table that one can only break down to steal:)

Old shelves that did storage
Old shelf that did the storage
That’s the same wardrobe my husband decided would look better in green than blue and sad as I was it actually turned out to be a great colour!
New Wall to wall wardrobe
New Wall to wall wardrobe
As for the ugly marks, I put up small beautiful frames to hide the flaws…

I went back to our open kitchen and added more storage at the top. I can never have enough storage…not with my mom as my neighbor, no. she calls me to collect kienyeji mbogas and bananas from my mama land. I love my mother; in her eyes, her children never grew up! So we fixed three wooden partitions and yes, I painted it white so it would go well with the other kitchen colours.

I hated the seat colours I had… they somehow looked too noisy with the many colours we had…pink, orange, golden brown and black… this is what they looked like…

These are about 20 years old by the way.. hehe
These are about 20 years old by the way.. hehe

We opted to shut them up and changed the seat covers to creamy and black. We then matched them with a large black and cream carpet and voila… the room was finally lighting up! DSC02853
We just needed the right drapery and we would be good to go. A friend insisted we keep it white. “Your house looks like a rainbow” she lamented “please don’t paint it any more!” I really hope she was not on the verge of howling… Hehe. I listened and took my rainbow inspiration to its edges, combining the kitchen green with some gold and largely white on the extended decor…DSC02856
kitchen main door curtains I kept the cushion linen orange to match the large orange holding the entertainment unit but this is only to be seen when we are cleaning or changing the covers. unsealed cushions
Those are yet to be completed and yes, it’s a Do-It-Yourself-Task.

Eventually when they are all filled out and stitched to closure they will look somewhat like this…seat with Cushion 1
So far, i stand from far and I like what I see.. its my little haven and done in a span of three years. so proud of myself 😀

Justin wants a male touch to the house…he wants a home theatre and he wants it now…I, on the other hand want a female touch! (One wonders what the heck we have been touching up with!) I need flower pots big enough for a future son to sneak a pee in hehehe! Just kidding, but in the meantime, I am desperately in need of book shelf and study desk ideas… 🙁

How I tell she loves me…

I know she loves me, this girl. Even when she may not say it, I know she loves me with her life and would do anything for me…oh, and her daddy too! In her eyes we rock and yes, we know it. This is how.

She throws tantrums
Whenever she wants to accompany us somewhere or when she insists that I stay home rather than go to work; she may hide my shoes or steal my office keys from my bag to keep me chasing her around. Or she may just break down or go to a corner and sulk. Sometimes, she wants me to be the one to take her to school and pick her up, yet I really can’t! This only means that she always wants me around. My company means a lot to her and being around her is reassuring to her.

She imitates me
Time back, she would pick up the remote and start walking around pretending to be on call. “Are you serious?” she would ask, then stop abruptly, bite her lip and think really hard. Nowadays, she picks my phone, calls her cousins or her daddy and cuddle on the couch pulling her feet in a cross bow way. She then picks up my pen and scribble something and at some point, hold the mouth piece and whisper instructions to me then continue with the call. She wears my shoes, picks up my bag and instructs Vivianne to take good care of me till she is back. She will promise to buy me goodies if I am a good that day and then head high and nose in the air, she will walk out. Five words…I am her role model.

She protects me
She watches with a hawk’s eye to see if anyone will harm me; even when I play with her daddy and I seem to whine, she interjects and confirms if we need to get grass sticks and beat up daddy… (She knows daddy can take it all; he is superman!) She offers to say sorry when she sees me sad and even hugs and comforts me when I get a graze on my hand…she will ask about it till its healed and she will tell anyone who cares to listen how mommy got hurt…then force them to tell her mommy sorry!

She hurts me with words
“You are not nice, mama!” she will say, “I will go away with my daddy and we will leave you!” Sometimes, she will say I am not a member of her family anymore or that I am not her mommy anymore… and that she will call thieves on me! She will find ways to get the words to pierce my heart and break it but this is because she loves me and she doesn’t like that sometimes her bubble gets burst with disappointments.

She gives me presents
When going to church, she will always run to her favorite tree along the way and pick lots of flowers. She will then arrange them in my hair and still keep some for herself. She shares her snacks with me and promises to buy me nice stuff when she gets money one day. I know she means it and if she could gift me, she truly would.

When I come home from work each day, she will jump all over me, excited to see me, then sit on my lap and show me all the wounds on her body, new and dried. After complaining that I never gave her a hug when I left in the morning, which I would have done except she was still asleep, she would then check behind my ears and under my nails for dirt and try to cut my long nails. I love my little girl and I love that I rock her world so much. Share your bit too if you believe your child loves you crazily.

He quits, I step up…Thumb rule

If you are the kind of person who would marry someone mainly because of what they have or what they do for a living, then you should read this…twice even, because chances are that this part of life will test you…like a cheetah would pounce on an antelope’s ass if it misses the neck; it will catch up with you and your commitment to one another will surely be tested. Trust me, it happened to my mother, nineteen years after she and my father got married, luckily we cannot quite prove if she could have walked out if it had happened sooner…gladly, we shall never tell.


Life always seems easy when everything is smooth and easy. It all seems like all you need is to plan and live; but it’s never really been that smooth. If you and your spouse work for the government, then the security of your employment in the city is definitely on the high and your main financial concerns would be when you are getting paid and how to earn more; worst case scenario would be termination of employments which hardly anyone prepares for. In the private sector where most of us fall under it is different. One has no idea how long your job will last or how soon you could find one.

So what happens when your spouse says he wants to quit work? my husband came home one day and said he had had enough. He worked for a middle class company that underpaid and overworked…well, don’t we all love to use that statement! It was hard to understand him. I mean, as the head of the house, how would he expect us to live just because he didn’t feel like working anymore? I didn’t take it well and instead told him he had no choice but to push on. “You know we need the money,” was my stern warning and each day I told him that, he grew pale and dull, losing his motivation for life and hardly enjoying anything. He soon was mostly staying in the house and would tell me to visit friends alone or with Pesh. When I insisted that he comes along, he would but was the most boring company I ever had. Sadly, I didn’t realize what had instigated the change and resolved to believe I just had a super quiet hubby stuck with me till the end of time.

He came home one day his facing hanging barely above his shoes. “I hate my job; I hate my life and I hate the career path I chose. Mine is the worst industry I ever chose” were the words that came out of his mouth. Mine dropped in awe too. I asked what had happened and he gave me the same reasons he had before. This time however, he seemed overwhelmed and broken. It was as though he was condemned to live a damned life simply because he was married and had a family. Crap! it seemed like he was being punished for having a family! I was overwhelmed with sadness and even as he looked on in despair, I could not help but wish to take it all away. “Quit.” I told him. “Come home to me. Stay home, rest and let’s forget that sad excuse of a job.” He seemed more afraid than impressed. “What about…” “Forget the money. We are just letting one leg go,” I calmed him down. “It doesn’t mean, that if we limp we will not move; we will just be slow but moving either way,” he smiled, for the first time in a long while and seeing the hope in his eyes once more was enough to believe we would survive.

Sometimes, you just need to decide to always put your spouse first. Its always more about what money does or doesn’t do and not just its presence.For me, I chose to have my husband with me and happy rather than working and miserable. It was not a tough decision to make as we are joined at the hip. Just because we limp doesn’t make us stagnant.

…and the moment we have all been waiting for…

I went straight for the bathroom only to notice I still had my handbag with me. I called Pesh and sent her with it to my bedroom. The naughty girl followed me back into the bathroom and tried to get a good peep before I quickly whisked her away. I had my small tins hidden away in the locker so I pulled one out and filled it. That was easy; I needed to pee every thirty minutes anyway! I put in the stick one at a time, laying them neatly on a piece of napkin when done. My heart throbbed…real fast as I imagined what I would feel if it were positive…or negative.
I had stopped thinking about it. Ever since I got my BFN (Big fat negative) the last time, I was in no pressure at all. I let it go and as I promised you, let it remain God’s will. I never tried again, I promise though I kept track of my usual body changes.
I sat on the toilet bowl and gave the first six test kits a full ten minutes.I know I only needed 5 but something naughty in my head thought it would be funny if they tested and all dried out! I was curious of the test results, yet not sure I was ready for them. Have you ever felt so happy yet scared at the same time? What if I wasted so much money on twelve kits and got more BFNs? I would block the toilet flashing them all in! I thought angrily. Justin came to the bathroom door, obviously concerned. I could hear Pesh’s tiny footsteps trotting along. “Are you ok in there?” he startled me and I immediately jumped and stood casting the dizzy spell on myself again. “Yeah” I struggled to reply. “Just testing for pregnancy in here” he was silent for a moment. “Would you like some help?” Of course he wouldn’t miss it for the world. “No, I just need to read the sticks now” I responded calmly as I turned round, eyes closed. Sorry, I was in no hurry to confirm it just yet. “…and? Would you like me to help you read the tests?” Justin probed. “Mommy, you have a bad tummy?” Pesh too seemed concerned.
“I am coming in a bit, please take Pesh away so I don’t die of tension” I requested as I opened my eyes…and they popped really wide at what I saw before me. “All six test kits are spoilt!” I whispered to myself. They each had two bright red strips on them…they all read bright and fat positives on them.. ‘How could I not see this coming; how on earth did you sneak in you little punkin’. I poked my tummy and bent to glimpse at it. ‘How long have you been there? Oh dear, I am going to be a mom to another? I can’t do it!’ I panicked as memories of my first pregnancy flashed before me. It was hard telling my parents the great news and even harder when it was time to push the creature out. I remembered I hadn’t told Justin yet. I grabbed the kits and sneaked quickly into the bedroom. Justin and Pesh both came running in moments later.
“What’s with you and Pesh stalking me everywhere I go” I complained, struggling not to smile. “Of course you know why,” he replied “You are acting unusual so we all want to know what’s up.” I pulled out one kit and handed it over to him. He smiled excitedly and clapped his hands to which Pesh imitated and celebrated. “You are pregnant?” He asked now looking straight at me, “A little” I answered coyly and accepted the group hug that followed. It dawned on me that I could not take it back; it was done. I remembered the words of a nurse who warned me when I confirmed my pregnancy with Pesh, three years ago. “It is now up to you to take good care of that baby; that is God’s responsibility to you. Never question your ability to be a good mother. You will be the best you can be when the time comes.” I remember it took a whole month of denial when every morning and every night I would unfold the piece of paper that had my test results. I would read the word positive over and over taking it all in before I folded and hid it back in my drawer.
This time round, it was different. It was not the first time anymore. My fears and concerns were not the same; I wondered when we would be buying that car we always wanted…because we now really needed it. Two kids would easily drain me and the more I thought about it, the more it scared me. I looked at Pesh and even as she smiled back the fear of impending motherhood…more motherhood dawned on me.

That moment when you feel so mortal…

The night was sombre, cold and weary; dark with the clouds swaying so low you could literary smell their thickness in the air. The rainy season was fast approaching and as usual my family and I kept warm from the chill. Meanwhile, Vivian, (I would like to change her name to Presley- I risk getting caught! Remember the name changing episode I told you about?), worked herself off in the kitchen frying, stirring and making sure to fully own the kitchen space. She wore her favorite apron that she would simply tie round her waist and still show off her girlie top. Pesh was warmly dressed as she took to the floor racing her plastic chair like she would a car; from the kitchen and straight to the end of the living room. We happen to have an open kitchen plan that at some point we regret especially when particular foods are prepared. Pesh raced on, driving us mad as we struggled to watch the prime time news amidst all the noise.

It was on a Thursday and the menu read rice and beef stew. All seemed well till I heard a knock on the door and immediately stood up to get it. I felt a pang of dizziness that sent me back into my seat, leaving me both confused and terrified at the same time. Justin’s attention was with me and Pesh loudly voiced, “Mom! What is it?” Presley got the door. It was no one worth rushing for; the monthly security was due. Justin sorted it out and came back to sit next to me although I felt better already. Pesh went on playing and occasionally ran up to peer into my face and make sure I was alright.
The following morning, I went to work at my usual time; however I felt unusually hungry. I could not hold it any longer so I stopped by a supermarket in town and bought me some queen cakes. I carried them in my bag and took my second bus to work. I constantly kept having the urge to pull one out; something I was not used to doing especially if it was meant to go down with some hot beverage at my office desk… this was getting interesting… I let my hunger rule and quickly pulled one cake out. Without a care in the world, I munched it up systematically pulling out another and taking it all in three huge bites. I surprised myself when I felt OK and full enough to get to work before I could eat again.

I seemed OK at work; except the part where I forgot it was time to send out monthly invoices for our clients. My boss sent me a reminder; not too pleased that for the past two years I have always been on time, and then suddenly it didn’t seem as important anymore. I apologized remorsefully and went ahead to send an invoice that read 0.00 in a neat PDF document. It read paid in my records and I only realized this grave mistake, four hours into the day. Just when I found out I had made a mistake and began rectifying it, the telephone line by my desk rang. The extension number that read on the screen was enough to get my heart on a marathon race and I had this dying urge to ignore it and pretend I was in the bathroom. Unfortunately, I happen to be a bad pretender. I picked the handset up and answered it meekly. His booming voice on the other end wasn’t helping much as I quickly explained that I had just dispatched the correct hard copy (which I still held in my trembling hands. He sounded like he was trying hard to understand me; for some reason, he seemed to comprehend me better than I did myself. I was creeping myself out.

By midday I was already ravenous and surprisingly, I didn’t fancy any food. I held my hunger two more hours and by the time our lunch lady came in, I was so hungry, I never thought fasting could happen while still on a heavy meal. I felt disgusted by my own saliva and the food could not go down. “It must be the hunger” I thought it’s that feeling one gets when they starve too long and suddenly have a heavy meal. My tummy could not hold it so I rushed into the bathroom and it all came out. Scared and confused, I opted to have fruit salad till my body got normal. The salad went down well despite the metal taste in my mouth and every time it landed inside I felt a sense of reassurance. That evening, I went home peacefully and all seemed well till I got off the bus in my hunger surge, I went straight into butchery and bought a large chunk of mutura gobbling it all with a lot of chilli. This was getting too much. I picked up a dozen pregnancy test kits from a chemist nearby and slowly trotted home.

Stick to your marriage- Both-Feet-In

Welcome to the 21st century; the times when we are liberal as we call it. We welcome evil deeds and society accepts pretty much anything and everything we goad. Married women and men cheat openly; in fact, they use their wedding bands to be a magnet for the mpango wa kando, promising no strings are truly attached. In-laws still want to be in command of marriages and go as far as ganging up to ‘Chase away the evil wife and bring in the nice one’. They still will stab you in the back and refuse to speak to you if you will not listen to their proposals. Wives are refusing to get pregnant for fear that their marriage may not last; and some are still foolishly fighting with their in-laws. Young men are still chasing me on Facebook asking me to stop pretending to be faithful to my husband…haha. Its funny the only thing that remains consecrated is the little dream of making a home and even this lies entangled in libel, mistrust, infidelity and selfishness.

I have tried to sit and have conversations with different types of people and very few do not annoy me. I go back home with more questions than answers and wonder what exactly happened to us. Where are our forefathers? Is God watching and taking in our thoughts and actions politely? Will he finally lose his patience and send angels to do away with us? We do not fear laws or even God anymore. We beat our chests and praise our egos, we declare ourselves the most intelligent of all yet when we give ourselves a chance to see what we really are like through the eyes of others, we will realise we are wasting the beautiful gift of life God gave us.

Men love independent women…but too much independence can render them useless to a woman. God was not being unfair when he said we women should be submissive; being the neck of the house, it is your duty to balance the body being your family. Your husband needs you to support him, not be his critic. You need to reassure your man that you will always be there for him no matter what happens. You may be the supporter of the brains, but that does not mean the neck has no neurons or nerves. As the wife, you need to push the brain to where the body is comfortable. Turn the head to better budgeting and planning finances, to seeing new opportunities, to identifying bad friends and influences, to letting your husband take all the credit for it. Yes, that is the beginning of being unselfish.

marriage pic
Did it ever occur to you than when you praise your husband he will praise you back? Think about it. You build a house together; he pays all the money but you give all the ideas. Now when you go around telling everyone how if it were not for you that house would have looked horrendous, you might as well forget about having your name on that piece of beauty. When you instead tell everyone your man is the brains and built you a glorious house, he would not mind sharing it with someone who is humble and selfless. Is that too much to ask?

Women love material things, even if we are the ones buying them ourselves. Who doesn’t want to be spotted in a flashy pair of heels, a handbag and nice make up? Now as a man, sometimes your ego or pride will lie to you to think that we dress up to look good for other men out there. We don’t… well apart from those sisters who obviously shout away for sexual attention. So when you marry a woman, why would you want to do away with what attracted you to her? Is it the fear that another man may see the same thing and steal her away from you? Are you in short saying you do not trust that she loves you and only you? have you ever been tempted to make her less attractive? Or decided to get another lady to give her competition just so they both fight for your attention? In this way, if I may ask? Are you fulfilling God’s request to love, care for and protect your wife as you would the church or your faith? Do you enjoy seeing women fight for you and kill each other over you? Is that the same reason you would beat her up? Let me not get into the domestic war subject, I mean you still haven’t made me understand why you would fight someone who will never fight back; unless she, well, poisons your food…you trust her cooking yet you hurt her:) Let’s skip this topic.

This is my quest today. If you take away your marriage certificate or your visit to the AG; if you take away all the affidavits and that wedding band…would you still stick faithfully to your partner? A friend made me lack sleep thinking about it and I did think a lot about it. This was my conclusion; we get affidavits for marital security, in case you have shared properties and children… and of course relatives who may pounce on them should anything happen to you. We go to the AG to unionize a marriage, for those of us who do not like to show the world which human being it is you chose to share your life with and prefer to keep it private. The reason for the AG also has a bit of marriage security in it and bit of ‘Let’s shut up our parents’ demands’ it’s good enough though. Weddings are the ultimate way to do it. You show the world it’s him you chose and vow before the most supreme high to follow his orders on marriage…yet when trouble looms you want out already. Do you know the Bible says even after a divorce you are not allowed to remarry unless your spouse dies? Yes, I was pleasantly surprised to find that out. It is till death; not boredom, infidelity, in laws, fights, domestic violence or cash flow.

Here is my challenge to you. Work towards making your marriage work. Look at your spouse as your choice in life because that is your choice in life. With or without that paper of proof, no one forced you to love him/her. You felt it and you chose to pursue your feelings. Strive to remain blameless in your marriage. Do your part to love, cherish and be your spouse’s closest ally, always reminding them that they are the best gift to this world and to your life. Don’t make the world hate your spouse; instead, influence them to be their best. Be their positive influence and their friend when they do not need wifely counsel. Let them be the ones to deal with your in-laws, but never strive to separate his family. Put both your feet in. If you are constantly thinking or threatening to leave, they will plan their future without you in it knowing you may just walk away one day. It is up to you to reassure your spouse that you love them that much.

Your relationship was your choice in the first place. Be decisive and learn to enjoy your marriage everyday.

Babies come easy? They lied…

Now that I failed, I can attest to the fact that disappointment can really make one lose focus of their goals. The power of the mind is incredible, but when it all goes into your head, you can run miles, get exhausted and suddenly wake up from deep dreamy sleep. My brain played a nasty one on me. We were trying to get pregnant… Goodness me! All your attention is suddenly focused here! How you love gossip! Ok, sit tight and let me do my usual. We got off the pill and started redirecting our minds to getting pregnant. As is in the 21st century, we did not wait for God to bless us…no, I went on to search for ways and means of getting a preferred child. The outcome awed me.
It turns out that people do know how to get a particular gender in children. They know and yet they sit on their discoveries until you mention it in a whisper. Only then will you be pulled aside and your seriousness carefully scrutinized before any information is offered. Heck! It’s like dealing marijuana! So one friend offered to give me a Chinese based calendar (True, Chinese have literary everything under the sun) that depicted what months I am likely to get what baby at what ages. The first thing I did was counter-check on all the babies I know and their mothers’ ages. Some were right, some I forced right…it was pleasantly positive, though it was really hard to tell when exactly they were conceived as babies can come at any time.

I then researched online…this was the fun part. I joined all moms and baby blogs and websites, read as much as I could and noted down what was most important. The advice remained pretty much the same though people’s experiences made a lot of difference. Some got pregnant weeks after getting off the pill, others tried for a full year, and some are still trying! I took down my notes, and set off to try.
I bought nutritious supplements, and made Justin eat lots of groundnuts haha. I also have up on my wine fetish and embarked on eating and exercising well. Things we do for family…The rest remains censored but from then on, we waited…and waited…and that was when my brain started working. I started craving dry bread and got too hungry too fast. I hated having to go to the bathroom and got really lazy and tired. When I got the anger episodes, I thought that was really it! I started feeling huge and delicate…slept with one hand on my belly and well, started thanking Jesus!

Now there is this sign that I was waiting for; a sign I had read about that would prove it all should I want to test positive. This sign would either prove me right, or wrong. It is what the blogs called ‘Ovulation bleeding’. This was a sign that would prove that we had conceived. Stop nudging me! Ovulation bleeding happens once an embryo has attached itself to the uterus. It is like a wound formed in the process and comes out as a very light pinkish to brown bleeding. This bleeding usually happens in the first week of conception. There. You should try reading these things too, and yes, I am having yet another anger episode at the thought at the next phase of this piece.

When we traveled home, my best friend and I took a walk down the valleys and to the river down stream. It was the most beautiful sight, with the sun shining in some parts and lots of clouds laying low in others. There was as lot of whispering from the trees and huge round rocks lying lazy at the stream. We played a lot, got chased by bees and took photos in the woods. We let our troubles fly with the wind and our voices and we made noises and humming birds responded. For a moment there, life was good. It lasted an hour as the once blue skies suddenly got hovered by dull clouds. Before we could say ‘lightening’ it was pouring tremendously. We ran up hill having hid our phones somewhere safe and by time we were backing home, we were a perfect replica of rained on chicken.
I went to the bathroom for a quick cold shower and by the time I sat down to enjoy a glass of warm milk I had found out I was not pregnant. Nature had helped me relax and I let go of my worries and concerns. I also let go of my pregnancy. Grief, anger and disenchantment were all I felt and it took me a week to realize that it could never have worked just because the Chinese chart thought so. I gave up and gave God back his mantle. May his will be done.

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.

Newbie in the Bedroom

Part one of our bedroom is ready; the wardrobe. This is how we did it. We searched online for designs we could borrow. Having used shelves for the last three years, it was time we made a big switch to something different; something…bigger. I wanted a wall to wall cabinet with a little allowance for the dressing table. So we searched everywhere and finally, I got it; a three door cabinet…and a cool calming color to go. Before kick starting this, I visited various supermarkets to see what I could find. It was surprising that not one in town had what i had imagined. However, Naivas near Allsops had a nice three door cabinet with the middle part fitted with cabinets, just as I wanted. I was going for Kshs. 32,000 and the various dressing mirrors that would go well with it ranged beween Kshs. 10,000 to kshs. 15,000. Total avereage cost was about Kshs. 47,000. There was no way my husband would let me buy something worth so much for one place only; I never bothered to ask either. So I printed out my little dream wardrobe and visited Paul, our carpenter. What we had in mind was something like this.
kabati 0001

We made a few changes here and there and Paul set of to start.
he is a genius; in four days, the wardrobe was ready for painting. I wanted a very light shade of blue. I always get to pick my favourite colours and I sent my husband to buy a nice baby blue… I sent him with this lovely image on his phone…
blue cabinet colour 2

As men will always be men, and we women just never learn. He picked out something close to the blue… the exact opposite I mean; it was light green!

Not to worry though, it came out nicely though the challenge now is matching out this colour to the wall, bedding and drapery coming soon. Here take a look and let me know what you think…Oh and advise us what color to use for the rest of the house…we are honestly stuck! 🙁



Thanks to the small Nairobi houses, opening these doors meant eating up a lot of space. As usual our flexible Paul was so kind as to accept the changes we had in mind. We put in sliding doors and yes, I played with them till they moved smoothly. This piece of beauty saved us an amazing Kshs. 10,000 from the full price we would have spent in the supermarket!

And come to think of it, its the color of our intended cabinet lol!. And one more thing. I did the painting myself yet again!

I love my cabinet! I love my cabinet! *dancing around*

Auntie Moody

Moody as the clouds
Some days can be quite refreshing and pleasant; others just choose to be void and just….there. This is one of those days when everything is just plain and obtainable. That’s actually what I feel like right now. It’s empty with no problems to solve and no exciting news to cheer me up. Everything including the bright lime colours of my kitchen and our food time-table is suddenly boring. Not even Pesh’s funny faces or break dances can make me laugh today, leave alone Justin’s attempt to tickle me. In fact, the latter makes me very irritable. I am a walking time bomb. This is just one of those days when my boss knows best not to expect any tea till the office assistant is back from errands. I have neither sweet cakes nor cookies hidden in my bag and I dint feel like having the snacks they brought either. I pull my face and wear a frown, allowing the numbing feelings get the best of me.
I suppose it could be because of the boring weather; it rains and it gets all muddy; and we have to wear these heavy sweaters, scarves and sometimes those abhorred mismatched socks at home…We all look the same with jackets, hoods and trench coats so if you are a lover of bright coloured sun dresses and fitting t-shirts like I do, you start feeling as though grandma just played dress-up on you! Now that I mention that, I pity Pesh. I put the whole closet on her and only spared her from a monkey cap when Justin promised to burn it up. I think she got a heat rash.
Troubled Me
I am afraid of the cold. I don’t know of any plants that survive well in cold wind so I can have something to thank Jesus for. All I know is it awakens the sicknesses that have been quietly asleep in us; from tooth aches, to malaria, pneumonia to tooth- cracks. The old aged lose their battles to diseases in the cold season and children flood into wards as they get admitted to hospital for all sorts of air and water borne diseases. Each day I live troubled by the mere thought of a phone call from Vivian telling me how high Pesh’s temperature is.
It makes it worse to bear when I get calls that my nephew got admitted when he got a convulsion from high fevers… how does anyone sleep at night when even turning a head leaves with you with scratch marks of trepidation? It’s as though the grim reaper visits to mock me with evil thoughts. He pretends to hook the people I care about with his scythe and after a few heart wrenching sways accompanied by a thunderous and controlling laughter, he drops them and leaves silently, head hung low and without a single look back; as though he suddenly got scolded by his boss to stop playing with humans like they are toys.
A tinge of hope
Seemingly, God understands what I go through as he never fails to give me hope. Occasionally during the day, he lets the sun peep out and send its warm, soothing rays through my window. Its gentle cascade seems to whisper sweet words to my ears, sending happy hormones rushing through my veins. I can finally afford a smile. He clearly understands that at this point, the rainbow could be on the other side of the hill, furnishing the people on the slopes with memories of His love. At this point my spirit ceases from being low and I get lifted high to enjoy the little warm air that escapes from the steam in my kitchen. I realise once again that this life is just being true to me, proving its natural self to me. No one is perfect, not even the best or the richest. It is actually up to us to make the most of the time we have. Since I realise we will always have two rainy and cold seasons each year. Life need not stop till the sun shines. I will prepare to enjoy it and live up above it. I will get exciting things that my family and I will only during the cold seasons and others for the sunny one. This had better work. I will put in all I can to ensure it does. If not, and I continue getting these low energy episodes…then I better get checked! A little someone could be setting camp in me!