A Resolution

Its two days to the end of February!

How far are you with your new year’s resolutions?

Let me knowJ.

Well, this is how I felt when I set my 2016 resolutions; some of which are yet to be realised.

I felt like these three persons were holding a meeting inside my brain; and they were sipping coffee. I sniffed it.

One was as negative and dark as a demon on a toad stool. He advised against all my moves, “you will fail and then you will look like a fool” he kept shouting.

The second sounded like sunshine. Charming and reassuring. ‘hey, it’s a brilliant idea and you got the ability”. He gently said.

The third person was just a sluggish zombie. He was dozing on and off clearly disinterested in the matter. “Listen toddler, this bogus dream of yours will take a lot out of you. It is very demanding and certainly impossible” He whispered.

After they had their fair share of my time, they all looked at me weirdly waiting for my decision.

Now let’s see…

So for 2019, I dismissed their summit.

How could I let them break me again?

Then I found my harmony.

It’s a Saturday evening, exactly two days to the awaited announcement by the examinations body on KCSE results. My sister who has sustained an excellent track record in previous years assures us of success and so we rejoice.

The sun sets down paving way to tiny glimpse of stars, the air now cooler brushes through my earlobes as I hold tightly to the only torche in the entire home. It was a gift from my grandmother. May her soul rest in peace. I move it gently with every move my brother makes as he carefully skins off the goat. The light submits.

We are a carnivorous family. we love meat. Goat meat. Don’t get me wrong.

We salivate at the aroma of grilled mesh-wire goat meat miles away.

So for this particular day, father decides to roast a full goat for us to celebrate my sister’s success in waiting.

I know, stop asking ‘what if’. We simply believed in her brilliance plus we can’t just let this male-goat drift-away. We deserve meat!

So everyone is busy tightening up bits and pieces of the feast.

Mother is cooking ugali, the genius in waiting lights up the fire and gets tough logs to carry us through the night. Father obviously gets the mesh-wire from the store and aligns it for the appointed task. It’s a fiesta.

It’s well coordinated and things seem to fall in place. Because things to do with food shouldn’t flop!

With every bit of coherence, the party moves closer and before we know it, both food and bonfire are here.

We are roasted from the front while frozen from behind with the bonfire cooking us gently. There is something about the flame; not too much to burn you off, but harsh enough to shrink off your skin hairs.

The feast went on into the night, everyone more inspired than they should, and a tray of roasted meat going in rounds at the fire place. You are only permitted to pick a piece at a time and pass!

Father says he’s not about to breed greedy monsters!

It’s a family tradition.

We eat, talk, laugh and thank God for the far we have come.

We hardly touched on the topic of the day_ the anticipated KCSE results.

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But we laughed and talked and that’s all that mattered.

So we pray and disperse to catch some sleep before another day.

Then mother who has been giggling and babbling says something. The only important word that I carried from the party.

“It’s time to TAKE FLIGHT and FIND COURAGE to pursue that dream that seems too far”.

So That night, way past new year’s resolutions' time-frames, I made a resolution. And I called it a GOAL. Because the word RESOLUTION scares me. I didn’t want it to hurt me in the middle of the night reminding me of the things I didn’t do.

So I made a goal this year;

That I will smile to strangers and share in the glow of the moment.

That I will genuinely and intentionally love and allow myself to be loved.

That I will honour this girl with so huge dreams that she can hardly stomach.

That I will carefully listen to others with the intention to understand them better.

That I will listen and meditate on how God moves.

That I will take guitar classes and drink more water.

That I will honour and love my family; and once in a while sneak off for a mesh-wire grilled goat meat.

And yes I am on track.

Mwende

THE GRAND HEAD-START

My growing up was simple and authentic.

Growing up in one of those sleepy villages was as heavenly as you can possibly imagine.

I attained the prerequisite for school enrolment pretty early and in I was in search for nothing; they later told me that the search was for knowledge.

Those days, no one told you why school was good for you,

As long as the headmaster’s daughter was in school; that was deemed good for you too; questioning your elders’ actions was forbidden.

War unto you if you could fluently ask for ‘nyonyo’ translated breast-milk without stammering; and that I did and found myself in demeaning environment. Calling out for mama with tears and mucus altogether flowing into my gaping mouth was like a daily doze for all of us. I could crave for that breast-milk all day long and I couldn’t wait for evening to come. Don’t look at me like that, we all did.

Pre-unit and the like were unknown or possibly my village was not enlightened enough at the time.

We were artistic with soils and interacted effortlessly such that we were inseparable.

In fact, all our exams were done on the floor and we became such creators with clay.

Teacher Monica was so motherly she literally fed us and ensured that no one ate another’s food. Plus she was my grandma’s namesake which is solely why we had a thriving bond. May her soul rest in peace.

Fast forward, I made it to class 6 guys.

You see where I come from, episodes of pupils-relations flourished; and before your mother found out, your belly had already outgrown your hiding tactics.

I was now all grown with sharp tips darting through my chest and I later came to learn that mother was worried.

Obviously I outgrew the soils and prospered in taking a thorough bath twice a week.

I was privileged to have a clean shave from the only barber in the entire village; the rest of the time mama perfected her razor handling skills.

Hear me out city dwellers, growing hair was unheard of in my village; only mistresses stood the chance of setting the pedestal throughout our future beauty ambitions irrespective of how unkempt their hair seemed a times,

Worse if a boy tried to keep hair; the demon could be crashed out of him thoroughly in the early morning dew in a congregation of elders, villagers and witnesses.

Back to my story,

It’s in class 6 that I attained bits and pieces of confidence and poise.

Occasionally I participated in giving nicknames to teachers only if the teacher on trial was unwanted.

I severally bribed the class prefect with mangoes just so that my name could be erased from the undesirable noisemakers’ list.

There is this one time my friend and I carried guavas to school hoping no one would find out; the smell betrayed us and we received a beating for literally taking fruits. Such was my school!

On a bright Friday morning, passersby regularly overheard our voices reading from our battered chalk board and soon our screams could be replaced by the junior classes singing through their Swahili lesson. And just like a high pitched choir on session, we raced through classes; one after another.

Looking back, I realize that all these experiences created this being today.

This being that keeps trying on heels only to fall off stairs when everyone is watching; and still try them out the next day.

This being that keeps tweaking words to fit my description only to be betrayed by my uncultured tongue.

This being that keeps falling and rising up only to fall again and still rise up.

This being that keeps retreating back into that girl within and enjoying every bit of happiness thereof.

This being that so strongly believes that we all are made of tiny bits of history from the rich trails of experiences we’ve gone through and that makes WHO WE ARE!

Mwende 

The Spotted Black Panther

Not to be rude but seriously?

You really are the first to spot this Black Panther since the world began?

Wait, is Lupita and her team aware?

Do you mean just you? How about the rest of us?

So you mean the Warden in this beautiful conservancy is actually blind?

Wait, How about Kenya Wildlife Service?

Forgive my nagging spirit really but I find it absurd that you claim to be the only individual with the perfect eyesight who ever lived for the last 100years.

I guess the rest of us need to be in an ophthalmological ward.

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Oooh, your camera had a better view than ours?

I don’t have much to say about your camera but I sure have something about our cameras,

Ours don’t just capture images, they capture moments,

Because capturing genuine moments is much better than accidental capturing.

Alright, you win_ I believe you.

So now, my friend Wanyonyi has this plump brown eyed chicken with rugged feathers,

He tells me spotting is a skill that he totally lacks.

How about you come over and spot this particular chicken for us.

Hey, we also have this white giraffe in Garissa that needs spotting; yeah and it’s not albinism,

Frankly speaking, we have quite a number of stuff that need spotting.

Get back to me on Wanyonyi’s request as soon as you can.

Yours sincerely,

Kenyan.