Introvertedly Soothed

Introvertedly Soothed

Yes I am an introvert.

I know. Many of you will confuse me for an extrovert.

Let me just say that sometimes I become more alive when submerged into loud crowds; but most of the times quietness is therapeutic.

I do not mind cosy dinners at home all by myself and yes I haven’t watched a single episode of ‘Game of Thrones’.

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We will still show up for the party and enjoy just like the rest of the world; the difference is we will remember more the snapshots of the time we retreated to a calmer corner of the dance hall just to dive right into an inspirational book or a one-on-one chitchat with a friend.

And thereafter we will wish we were home alone in our pyjamas.

Plus we will be deeply hurt if you didn't invite us.

And no, we are not snobs.

Allow me to re-introduce myself.

I am a lover of life, I like funny stories; and occasionally I allow myself to burst out in laughter for no apparent reason.

Reading triggers my soul and thinking through things however miniature they seem is something I can’t avoid,

I love food but I still wish to retain these curves; I think I have gorgeous cheekbones.

Be warned that I ask a lot of questions but you don’t have to answer them all.

I love parties and sleepovers and frequently retrieve back to myself to revitalise and think some more,

And yes I hurt from the pains of this world and empathy does not allow me to switch off.

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For countless times I have beaten up myself for statements I  made in cliques months ago; because I think I should have done better.

And yes sometimes I fleece back to re-make the bed after him; because I think it’s not neat enough.

I pick what to wear tomorrow today because I can’t stand the early morning hustle.

“You are so many of you in here’, that’s what I whispered when I was invited to read a bible passage at a friend’s wedding sermonette. Just to mention that I had been rehearsing the chapter for close to three weeks.

I was nervously wobbly and at some point, I gasped for air.  

And this has been a phobia of mine for quite some time.

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It’s gotten better with time except for the heart-leaps every time I step up to speak_ I am still learning to calm it down.

I have had to constantly convince myself to speaking up because it doesn’t come naturally to me.

Truth is we all have something to say; just that some take longer to articulate it than others.

And while we fight, we must learn to care. Because we all are fighting greater battles that can only be fought first from our minds in a place of stillness.

Some have conquered; others still fight on_ because there is no giving up.

For why else would we be still here?

Mwende 

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.

We are all dying

We are all dying 

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‘We are all in the process of dying’. I know it’s a cliché statement but it’s actually serious!

Yes, some of us have gone way ahead of us, but eventually with a little extension to the timelines all of us will run out of time!

The truth is, most people live with blinders on and they are so caught up on the little things that distract them from what really matters and when all that stuff is washed away, their lives open-up clean and they see what really counts: the people that we love!

Life can be a chaotic firecracker atimes,

And those creepy flashes of simply wanting to hang up the boots occur to all of us; only that some of us intend to leave notes explaining why we had to if that makes it better.

I hope and pray that you eventually realize just how little of time you actually have!

It’s like standing on the edge of an abyss; you could look down and let it suck you in or look up and rise above it.

The decision to be positive is not one that disregards or belittles the triggers of sadness that exist in this world, but rather a conscious choice to focus on the good and make the most out of every moment.

And while I am gone, I want people to often remember me and giggle.

Yours happily left handed,

Mwende

While I am waiting

While I am waiting

Today as I sit here waiting for an answer to a prayer I have constantly made for the last three years, I shiver as my wild mind craft forms of the many options I have to choose from.

Because the way I see it, I have waited for way too long and it’s time to start moving,

All this while the wind around my ankles has been moving freely across dried leaves and for once I wish I had its cognisance. One that is spontaneous, powerful and unbound.

I am anxious.

The weaver birds around here are incredible and similarly resentful.

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They sing with synchronized pitches and tones for a whole hour while sharing a fraction of warmth with each other. They seem happy and I seem agitated. I guess that’s what waiting does. It gives one time to examine the ordinary and ask questions of things they simply take for granted.

I am waiting.

You see for me, whether I’m waiting for a friend to show up or for hope to return in moments of despair; the feeling is equally unsettling.

As writers will tell you, ‘expectation postponed is making the heart sick’; worse still if such expectations are unguaranteed.

In either of these the anxiety is gruelling.

It’s like a grain of sand in between the front-teeth; no pain but sufficient discomfort to keep things irritable. And the more one keeps digging it out, the more unsettling it becomes. In fact, it’s just but a matter of time before pain thrives.

Such is waiting.

Plus God took it a notch higher; I know He requires me to wait patiently in confidence and I am tempted to wonder why.

Why He seems to be silent when I desperately need Him to speak, but then I am prompted of His steadfast love and mercy,

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For He knows the number of hair on my head,

He declares the end from the beginning,

He knows that I don’t need it now; that’s why I don’t have it yet and so I wait.

Yes I will wait.

I will wait for Him even when I doubt Him,

I will wait because I know He will soon be here; but even if He doesn’t show up I will still wait.

Because even when in humanly wisdom He is way too late, He is still on time.

Mwende

Our Women

Our Women

It’s Women’s international day.

The 8^th day of March 2018; a day that exists to celebrate women worldwide, the achievements as well as highlighting gender issues that face women and by extension the entire population.  

It’s one of those days that trailers make rounds in media platforms with each year carrying with it a new hashtag.

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Today, there's a vibrant call to act towards achieving gender parity. It’s a call to motivate communities, governments and the entire world to think, act and be gender inclusive.

Then the story can be different for Cherono in Pokot County, Kenya who wrestles with realities of the forbidden cut. With blood stained hands of the perpetrator still eager to yet again sharpen their cruel knives. It’s a day she remembers with such uncertainty and resentment for a scar that has now become part of her as caused by her fellow humans. A deed that has costed her two of her new-borns.

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This also embraces raising awareness and acting for the sake of young women in the outskirts of Lake Victoria. A young mother has to be carried on a wheelbarrow to a nearby clinic when her labour pains recon. Residents here have been having problems accessing healthcare services for too long with Akinyi bearing the burden of such conditions. She pushes with all her might optimistic that the fragile life she now holds will survive the harsh life realities into becoming the president someday. She wonders why life has to be this difficult. But just like everyone else, she’s got to toughen up in order to survive.

CWW, Kenya  Celebrates IWD 2018

celebrating IWD 2018 with colleagues

Pressing for progress to Margie needs to be now than later. A 20 years old mother in the rural southern Kenya who bears on her skull a yawning hovel caused by a jerrican that rests on her head every single day for the last 12 years. She carries the same jerrican today while balancing a baby on her hip. She’s had to trek for more than ten kilometres to make it this far. She says she hasn’t known any other way for her and her household. Ultimately she hopes that her physical strain will be lifted off her shoulders some day when water access comes near to her then her health can improve.

Truth is something has been done.

But much more needs to be done now!

#Pressing for Progress.

Mwende