My mama taught me better than that.

You know how some of wake up and plan our days thinking or hoping for them to turn out just as scripted. Well, in some cases, the day turns out better than expected, yet again, it(the day) may turn out worse than even imagined. Well, we never know what’s in store for us but each day we live in hope, hoping to have a good day, or just a polite one. Not something too much to ask for. Even when a day turns out to be monstrous, you still get on your knees, you don’t turn your back on God, no, my mama taught me better than that!

Tuesday afternoon, I leave the office with not much thought running through my head. It’s a cold afternoon, so the songs playing in my head are not the ribena/always advert songs.(On bright afternoons, you’ll stumble on such songs going through my mind. However, for this afternoon, a simple soft rock song finds its way to my lips. Then out of the blues, now in town, a stranger asks me for directions. I tell him I don’t know of any family bank around there so I walk on. He then walks with my pace & starts telling me stories. Now instead of walking away, I entertain him, surely, my mama taught me better than to talk to strangers.

In the long run, he ends up thugging my phone. Now if I write it here how he did so, those of you with beer bottles will end up smacking them on my head and for the luhya’s reading this, they’ll pour hot tea on my head. To save myself from such wrath, I do choose not to go into details onto how my phone stopped being mine. Just know that like the wind, I saw it go. When I realized I was the latest victim of robbery, I did not cry, no my mama taught me better than that, I laughed.

Mixed reactions going through my head but somehow laughter still lies upon my lips. Now I run to the nearest safaricom shop and replace my sim card. I remain dazed then I search for a simu ya jamii, he charges 5 bob a second. In less than a minute, I part with 100/= Surely I was tempted to shout idiot (pronounce as eye.diot) to his face, but my mama taught me better than that!

Because I was naive, I lost my phone. People still steal and the world is so damn dark, their hearts are filled with malice. No sugar no spice, not everything nice, no, you’ll find that in a cartoon, not in hearts. In their hearts, expect chemical X. When I told my dad the tale, he told me the streets rule, ;everyone in the streets is guilty until proven innocent’

That night I could have chosen to curse that man but I didn’t. I also won’t lie that I prayed for him. All in all, I learned my lesson – stick to the stuff that your mama taught you!

Handsome Caleb.

Do some things really touch your soft spot? Like really they just bring tears to your eyes? Quite a number of things do get me teary eyed. Say the ‘A Billion reasons to believe in Africa’ advertisement, when I nail a song on guitar, when I miss my mum or my little brother and so on and so forth. But you see those things don’t make my tears fall, they just leave them dancing on the edges of my eyes. Here’s one thing that really gets to me, leaving my tears fall and flow: when a young person falls prey to a critical disease, one like cancer.Sunday morning, I left the house with two main agendas:
1. Go to church for the service
2. Go to NPC Woodley for a concert ‘Let me live’
I did stick to my agenda so after attending the service, I was headed to woodley. On my way to town, I realized that I’d left my umbrella in the car but oh well I convinced myself it wouldn’t rain, despite the evident clouds that were threatening to let the waters loose. So I reach town, I’m balancing replying those ‘uko?’ and ‘umefika?’ texts, at the same time I’m strategically tying my scarf around my hair and also, debating on whether I should buy my lunch in town. Quickly, I rush to Nakumatt and get me some yoghurt and wafers then I’m now headed to Railways to catch the bus going to woodley. On my way there, it starts drizzling, but as long as my hair is safe, then I’m fine. Two seconds later, the drizzle turns to heavy rain drops, okay now at that point I had to be the savior of my hair, which only  means RUN! It was funny but I did reach the bus, feeling like a super hero, my hair was dry, it’s all that mattered. The weather outside was defining one saying, ‘when it rains, it pours’. At that point I thought of going back home but I wouldn’t forgive myself. When I alighted, it was me and the rain, face to face, now my hair, wet. I had to walk to the church, no other option. No turning back.

Never mind that I’m now in church, dripping wet but hey, I’m glad to have reached safe, on time. On time baby. The ‘Let me Live’ concert was all about raising funds for Caleb, a 16 year old Form two boy who has Leukemia. This month, he needs to go to South Africa for a bone marrow transplant so that he fully recovers. This will cost 5.5 million shillings so the family is really working hard to raise the funds. By the time I was in church, I had no idea of who Caleb was, I just saw the advertisement on my timeline and since it was for a worthy cause, uniting with a couple of friends to go there was definitely time worthy.

Performances by Alice Kamande , Webi and Zidi the band kept us on our feet. OK so maybe I was exaggerating the dancing, in a bid to get dry.I think I may have looked as though I was more in a P.E lesson, rather than a concert. Adawnage were now on stage and to say that I love their music is an understatement. The type of music that takes you to a zone, I love it to bits. Then, the band members themselves are a bunch of lovely people. Just to mention, Mweshy, their bass guitarist enjoys himself on stage, always good to watch him perform.

Time came for us to be shown the clip about Caleb’s journey battling with leukemia and it really touched me. One, he is such a handsome young boy, you know those adorable hug-gable people, that’s him. Two, he was diagnosed with the disease when he was in class 6, which made him stop playing soccer. The disease also frustrated his academic performance. To have fought that disease for four years just goes to show how strong of a boy he is. He deserves to be enjoying his youth, playing soccer, going normally to school and et all. I saw him in person, even more handsome. (Yes I gave him a hug) As he and his family stood at the front of the church to receive greetings and money, on the background was Rosy of adawnage singing her song ‘Let me live’ It’s such a deep song with a deep background to why Rosy wrote it. Even then, it is a prayer asking God to let you live, and as we all reflected on that song, we all prayed to God to let Caleb live, handsome Caleb.

(tried posting a vid, not been successful. Follow @teamcaleb16 on twitter, for all updates. Their Mpesa line is 0727647085 account under Grace Kipkan-mum)

Disown the words.

Allow me not to use words, for they may fail to express what I feel.

Let the spark in my eye, that only comes when I see you speak what I feel.

Let my heart beat, that increases in rate when I hug you speak what I feel.

Let the unfading smile that I wear when I talk to you speak what I feel.

See that prayer for you that is neatly tucked in an envelope en route to heaven, the one in which I ask God to fulfill your desires, let it speak what I feel.

The way my body wiggles when I laugh at your jokes, let that show what I feel for you.

Let the slight beatings I give you not confuse you, no I’m not violent, but when my hand lands on your shoulder, let it speak a language of my emotion.

So darling, don’t ask me what it is I feel for you, because in words, I might spell love while it really is just like. Darling, don’t ask me what it is I feel for you, because in words, I might spell like while it really is love. The words, they might fail me, so tonight, just read my smile because I choose to disown the words.

When it comes to not wanting but needing.

Going down memory lane, I remember as a kid, every time we’d go to eat out, the order(pun) of the day would be chips, TWO(never one or three) pieces of sausages and fanta orange. I strongly believe my brothers and I were not the only ones with the same kind of order, I see you lifting your hand admitting to that too. But that has since then changed, I grew up and started to know that chips and chicken, though with fanta orange was a powerful combination. Then I graduated from fanta orange to blackcurrent(haiya, who remembers the soda ‘softa’? Remember the advert? ‘Freedom softa freedom, brighten your day the softa soda way hmmm’ wah I danced to that advert religiously.) *nostalgia* Oh my, back to what I was writing about. So nowadays I order pretty much chicken, maybe chips(rarely) and juice 🙂 Honestly, I’m not sure why I have written down that first paragraph, hmmph, well, Easter is coming up so now any lunch offers are welcome 🙂

To matters important, what this post really is about. In life, there are a number of things one wants and also, what one needs. We’ve all heard or read about differentiating between wants and needs. It’s always clear that needs are more important than wants. Case in example, naturally, I am not a drama mama, no, I rarely over react and I may sometimes have strong opinions about something, but I keep it to myself. See I wouldn’t want to be a drama mama, but friends, I need to be a drama mama, like a really, and a loud one for that matter. Why? Thought you couldn’t ask. Well that’s because many instances have passed when I needed to be full of drama but I just laid back which resulted to a loss.

Sometime last week, while in the matatu heading home, the conductor and some lady got caught up in an argument and since there was no radio, well, all of us were subjected to be the audience of the exchange of words. The lady, of Somali descent(we all know best not to argue with them, and their men as well) was telling the conductor to give her her change and there, the drunk conductor, refusing to give it to her immediately. To cut the long story short,(what do people use to cut long stories anyway? anybody? nobody?) the conductor just started shouting ‘wanawake ni kisirani’ and kept repeating the same words over and over again. Guys in the matatu just looked at him and shook their heads, some ladies, just giggled. Here is what I should have done. -Cleared my throat and go something like ‘wee! Ebu mrudishie change na uwache kutupigia kelele. Unaita wanawake kisirani na we ndio unaleta kisirani hapa. Ala(I love that word) ALA! Kwani umegeuka kuwa mwanamke! Na uwache kutusi wanawake hadharani kwa sababu mama yako pia ni mwanamke. Heshima boss ala.- Then, this is what would follow, -passengers in the jav would give me a standing ovation with applause and cheers. The driver would probably stop the vehicle by the road side, so we all alight then the crowd carries me in the street chanting my name. As for the Somali lady, she would reward me a lifetime supply of pilau, biriani, bhajia and what not, delivered to our door step- But I did not do that. Friends, I failed. 😦 I simply shook my head and sighed(though loudly)This shows how my being a drama mama would benefit me and the society, talk about woman empowerment!

Then, this affects each one of us(well, those of us who lack drivers). Thing with Kenyans on the street is that they enjoy proving that they have the widest of shoulders and heaviest of feet. Like I can count the number of days I can go without being stepped on or being ‘body checked’. What I should do when either of that happens, -tap that person very roughly and ask ‘haiya, huangalii penye unaenda. ALA!’ then that person should be able to apologize. Apologies always soothe the heart. Those who after stepping or ‘body checking’ say sorry, really deserve a smile, a hug maybe? No, just a smile really. That will promote peaceful co-existence. But what I usually do, I look at the person and shake my head. Fail. Friends, I need to be a drama mama.

Plus there are many more instances when I need to be full of drama, so I’ll slowly start and report to you my progress next week. One thing I know, I got my laid backness from my dad. Look at this. so Sunday evening, I was chilling in my room with my big brother. You know, those lazy Sunday evenings, listening to some GOOD music(Eric Wainaina’s album, ‘Love + Protest’) I’m seated on my bed, my bro on the other bed, and we’re talking. Minutes later, my dad opens the door, then he sends me and walks out. Two minutes later, my mum calls me on the phone(all the way from Kakamega) and our conversation goes something like this.
Me: Hi mum 🙂

Her: Hi love. How was your day?

Me: Ah, it was nice, I enjoyed.

Her: Where are you now?

Me: In the house.

Her: What are you doing

Me ; Oh well, listening to music.

Her: Okay, now, your dad tells me you have a friend in the house, you’re with a a boy in your room?

Me:(LAUGHTER, LAUGHTER and more LAUGHTER)

so, she also starts laughing then,
Her: Well, what’s funny?

Me: (laughter) the boy in my room is Sam, Sammy. My brother.

Her:(laughter) Kwani your dad ameona nani?

Me: Ama ametoka kukunywa nini? (laughter)

Her: Haha, he’s confused. Okay, let me tell him ni boy wake ako kwa room ya girl wake.
(My mum really tries with sheng’ sometimes, she’s good, but more times it’s just pure comedy)

Me: Sawa, talk to you later.

Her: Ok mama.

Then, my bro and I laugh, then we LAUGH. It get’s funnier when a minute later we hear my dad’s phone ringing then after some time we just hear ‘ooooohooooh’ Haha, that was funny. We make fun of the whole situation. He was from sleeping so he was seeing my bro as a stranger.

Friends, don’t you think my dad too needs to be a drama baba. What if in real sense it was another boy and he was full of drama, don’t you think he could have done something say crazy, but to help me.

Let us all be dramatic, even when we don’t want to, hey sometimes we need to, but for the better good of society that is. Not the Mike Sonko way though.