Thursday, 29 November 2007

Finding Neemo, your lost key, God and yourself

So am in the mat in the morning,headed towards work.Its a typical setting; mat has loud music, this time, complimented by a DVD player so I get to atleast watch the racket and not imagine the lil punks singing at the bottom of my ear lope.

The mat hasnt't even moved a yard when this quirk seated on the window seat (the one behind the dere) starts chanting and mumbling.

At first I thought, "crunk has gone cultic these days" but when the noise didnt cease, i sort to fish it out. It was some lejo man ( you know the sect:jolejo a.k.a dini ya roho...) any hoo, he was wielding a two inch wooden sword on his left arm, complete with studs (read:thumb tucks) and a string of beads on circling his right hand. So, as he graced us with his public piety, we cringed and just watched in disbelief as the Kenyan sought God, in a mat, in the morning.

Made me wonder how many things people do in order to "find" God. Some have completely given up on the chase and only view Him as an obstacle to their otherwise "unbound" life. Others, get saved, like me..then later discover that that buzz you had when you rushed for the altar call is not present when you are intoxicated at the office party and have some dudes hand up or down your dress....

Others create their own religion to conform to their own sordid reality i.e Ron Hubbard's scientology and Kina House of Yahweh...not forgetten the King of Cults the free mason's and Marlyn Manson ( ai am sorry, church of Satan? i don't think so!)

My prayer everyday is that the deeper I discover self an ultimately actualisation, the more I will find Him in a perfect state where no sword, philosophy, pop culture or condemnation is needed. Just total peace, total understanding and above all, total love

my two cents in the slot


Wednesday, 7 November 2007

Happy Birthday to me

So today i turn 25
I woke up dead beat because last night i was combing through the hawkers market desperately looking for a nice top for my birthday. Off course i didn't find any so i opted for Tuskys ( does that name just annoy you especially when the vision of that silver toothed guy flashes before you) anyhoo
. So am at Tuskys right, they have this wide range of Enka Rasha rejects that look as bad and faded as the clothes from the street. I decide to go all girly ( only 25 once right) so i go to the skirts section. I find the one i want, i go to the changing room its like ten sizes too big. These dweebs fold skirts twice to make them look like a size 10 but they are actually a size 16. So i go through 20 minutes of these plus size discoveries until i decide , to hell, better the devil you know...i buy a top that can match with my jeans in the digs.

I get home around 9:30, shower and do my toe nails...Scarlet red..nice...thing is, nail polish takes forever to dry and am sleepy so i think to hell and jump under the covers , smudge and all.

I wake up at 5:50 a.m on November 8th 2007 feeling like shit lemme tell you today has been the most awful morning i have had in a long time . And the more i remind myself of the jubilation supposed to be followed by this festive event the angrier i get, i mean it was have heels on with gold jewelery and a very Small top but noooooo the heavens had to open their flood gates which did nothing for My asthma. I hurriedly scamper to the bus stop thinking, if am early i can get the train and save on bus fare plus traffic. Luckily i make it on time to join the already swelling crowd at the terminal. God then looked down, saw a small stain on my body that perhaps i had missed during my hurried cold shower and decides to fix it...with a downpour of icy rain!


I ingia a mat in a rash to avoid wetness and asthma. The mat soon leaves even before the train so i reason...yeah! i have saved time...shock on the sister, the train arrives like 5 minutes later and passes me as i am huddled in this stinky metal carriage between school going children and noisy mothers!
I was stuck in traffic from 7a.m to 8:30

Double shit!

By the time i got to Town i was six by products of mad. Still got rained on boyfriend calls me up to wish me Happy birthday and because of my already brooding mood am thinking "whatever"
Get to work every ones assuming you, i log onto messenger no one is on, my heels are killing me, am tired, bila psyche and its only 10 a.m!!!

Triple shit!

POINT: Theres too much pressure put on one day...valentines, birthdays, anniversaries...i think the real moments are the ones not marked in the calendars but those marked by their random awesomeness...wacha hii siku iishe so that we can have many many happy birthdays from tomorrow till November 8th next year!

Monday, 5 November 2007

love is inately a very beautiful thing. I am currently in love by the way and having been in a shitty relationship before, I am honestly thanking God for being in a nice one. I am one of those species, if I like you? that's it...I will do everything I possibly can to ensure you know it often enough. Because of this interesting trait, I suffer from limerence: an involuntary state of mind which seems to result from a romantic attraction for another person combined with an overwhelming obsessive need to have ones feelings reciprocated....yah! it exists

But with time;God and life's bitch slappings, I am learning how to Love without discourse. Coz you see if you love someone, you do so unconditionally, without writing a quotation for payment. It is an awesome thing to love for loves sake. Sure am not stupid, reciprocity is key in every relationship, but if you wanna do or say something coz you feel it, say it now, while you still can. Not because your waiting for their turn ama ur thinking "huyo kijana kananizoea. Jana i bought my dude ice cream and it was nice and he juas he doesnt have to return the favour except just sit , giggle and watch me guzzle down zit
POINT:LOVE someone coz you want to, coz you can and coz they need you to...but above all love yourself coz they will, they may not and coz you want them to

(a moment for the deepness)

I need a Gun to shoot her or a new job...Lord, what will it be?

The title pretty much speaks for itself but before you brand me as delusional, lemme explain
There's this chic I work with. She is honestly impossible to be around and like.
She has this class one tantrums that aggravate you to the point where your eye starts twitching are your thoughts are aligned with the movie rockie balboa
I pride myself in being a very reasonable and patient person( what, coming from a family of learn a thing or two)
But this chic takes the cake!For no reason whatsoever she's rude... as in your of salimiaring her, she's of lengain or making a snide remark. The thing with her schizophrenia mentalities is that they are random. One day your hot and heavy next you're her enemy , a vicious, venom spitting leprechaun


So i started lengain her vibe i mean, u are so not going to pimia for me when i should greet you or not, to hell with that. Thing is, i work at a place where from 1-1:30 , daily, i get to analyse preachings by Joyce Meyer and the whole month she's (Joyce) has been speaking about forgiveness(even when it pains you..) i tried it out once, decided to be the "bigger one" hmmm...I was getting a drink of water at the cooler. she was seated next to it, probably seething from one thing or another. sawa sawa si i say hi


Why did i even bother, the class A bitch( pardon my french Lord but how?)

So i have humbly come to the conclusion that there are some people you cannot live'd rather lick a pavement!

Therefore for all those closet Christians like me, what to do? ignore them and blogg to relieve the strong anxiety to shoot them or resign
p.s did you know there's a site called this ones a wierd one ebu check it out

women behaving badly

hey hey hey
it is Monday and I am so sad that the weekend came and went that fast , I had a blast and it was all green!
lemme explain
first of all, a lil' street purchasing advice(si u jua hawkers are back with a bang of plastic papers and litter)
so thursday am walking home, trying to concentrate, my vision impaired by the hawkers wares, the people and fatigue from jobo
I come across some tunice ballet pumps and i quickly buy them , i mean they were 200bob, a size 7and a half (blame my dad) and lacy!
wacha i fika digs and discover they are actually pale green instead of white!
street lights at night lie!
So i took the lime and made lemonade,i wore em on sato with a green rugby top, and strutted my nature wear to the "women behaving badly" concert at the GoDown Art Centre.
It was a blast, met some new crazy people i.e Viola a.k.a....(chic you are a kenyan version of Alias converts...literaly) Naliaka( she came and went with a kick ass poem!about beatin the crap out of some dogging guy) babes, i couldnt help but imagine myself in those karate chop poses bashing my
Njeri's poem was an eye opener( enyewe us chics of nairobi tumespoil ;-) and Eudiah! when i grow up i wanna have legs like hers
So twas a blast, after that dundad with my boys, work on sunday, no play today. have an awesome week and whatever time you read this oh dear viewer of my blogg, remember: don't let anybody steal ur joy...the world didnt give it, it sure can't take it away

P.S blogging is turnin out to be more of a plan than i thought hmmm...

Friday, 2 November 2007

Acne Dermatitis Puss Filled Pimples

I was born on 1982
the era of skin lightening creams
am sure you remember them :ambi, Ponds, Oil of Ulay
All which contribute to what I have to say

You see my father is the descendant of Jaramogi the great
Let me explain how that added to my fate
You see my people descended from Southern Sudan
The home of the classic depiction of a tall, wide nosed, gigantic black man
I took my fathers genes from my tummy to my grin
all of which i dont mind especially the skin

I remember it all begun in the mid nineties when i noticed my self
Bracing this young lass to unleash the inner essence that resonates within my rib cage
I grew up with plans and dreams tat were sparked by songs of the era such as "you better work" " i wanna be down with you"
and yes i wanted to be down with this man friend

He had to be the single most fine thing that God could suspend
in front of me at a time when i was oh so ready
to cut loose the ropes that tied him away from him
Then , like superman he appeared, without tights for that was in my imagination
he whispered words of friendship in my ear and i took that ball and ran with it
to the basket ball court, a place where i knew i couldn't fit
But for him, i joined the team so that we could have the same spirit

I did those suicides and dribbled and dribbled
and the closer he got i nibbled and nibbled
at my finger tips so that they could suppress the beat of a heart
Ever so willing ,ever so dreaming, ever so dreaming

I remember it, as clear as day, that era of matatus like shoe world boys and richochet
when men wore plaid shirts and women wore waist coats
when bread was fifteen shillings and Aaliyah was the musical antidote
I remember the bell rung for class and he said we needed to talk
I waited in anticiption as his lips parted and what he said
what he said

all i remember from that time so dark
was him whisper something about me being black

what the hell ladies somebody answer me?

I am black? So what ? So black that you cannot see
The depth of the Cindy in me

It was basically over friendship and basket ball
But it got me thinking about the era of Ambi and all
fair and lovely crap
That was when my eyes were opened and I got out of my shell
that's when i noticed the magazines with ladies as light as yellow
As fair as my bone marrow
As pointy as our tainted perception of beauty

That is when i noticed that colours contrast not with my shoes but my face
I saw things more in diamonds and hearts not spades and aces
As chics shy from looking at you in the eye because
they are afraid you will notice the reason why
their make up is hard to find and their pictures rejected from the bill boardsfrom the music videos from the pageant awards
they smile with their teeth yet they are wailing inside
Trying to hide the stinging reality that is not on their side
the one that now determines if you will be the head of an office
or the tea lady, the cover girl, the wife, the receptionist ,the novice

I remember when the sky was literally blacked out
When the sun only rose on off shore beaches
when it was cool to pick on the princess for not being too European
In demeanour and colour
In status and posture,
In fashion and Esteem

I am an African woman
that will never change because of the discovery of colonies
And gloss print
I am so black , it hurt to be yellow or white
I am so dark it has to be lovely

And fair

so be fair to yourself and embrace the wholeness of your tender
hydoquinine free
Melanin packed
Loaded with extra strength to stand up and declare
that I am because

my colour is blind

Thursday, 1 November 2007

do u feel me?!

So i have this terrible habit of relying on other people to make me happy, more so my romantic attachments. si you know how love is? You swear to each other that you will never leave each other and you will always be there for each other.
That, coupled with a wide selection or love songs such as" never too busy for you babe"-kenny latimore bla bla
So naturally when am feelin down I turn to my jamaa to lift me up. which he does, most of the time
Today i realised that he is only human. Have someone ever asked you to be there for them when your tired, busy or in a solitude mode?
Well today that happened to me, i kinda like flirting in the middle of the day, I think it spices up your relationship. Thing is my dude doesnt feel it at all..the way i so dont feel that whole kibaki tena stuff
Anyhoo, so here I am flirting away, my eyes wide, with a very silly smug look on my face, the dude is not responding
So what do i do? ( pms induced by the way..) i get pissed and log off
At the back of my head am thinking, sms me and tell me your sorry
After hours of not getting an sms, i mellow and laugh at how silly i am
Flirting gives me joy ( flirting with my guy by the way weeeeeeeee wacha mambo,,,lol)But thats my joy!
Who makes you happy? is it a person? or you. You see by sulking , I stole my own joy, joy that is only mine to give, not anybody else. We , I , live in a world where we are obsessed with reciprocity. As much as its a plus in relationships, when it comes to choice of joy, i beg to differ
I think you should do whatever the hell makes you happy! Call him in the middle of the day and tell him a dirty joke...or that you love the Kenyan. He will appreciate it but if he doesn't do the same, dont sulk, smile coz you made your self happy!
If you wanna hear his voice call and say hi, dont sit back and say" si anipigia simu kubafu yeye" we jibambe niaje?
So ive stopped sulking and all together sending flirtatious smses to my not so flirtatious man friend coz when it counts, he reciprocates and thats all that matters really
ama vipi?


Hey hey

this is my first post and am sooo excited...why because i have finally discovered why i should blog

Two days ago i was having a very interesting conversation with a friend of mine about blogging. You see, he used to blog at a time when his life had a "locust invasion" you know when everything tastes, smells and feels like a gruel of cement and flagyl!

Well, it helped him get through it coz now that he looks back, he can clearly see the difference from where he is to where he was

I however have to admit that i thought it was filled with alot of self pity and anger . That was until I gave some guy at work my poems to read and he said " aiii they are huruma huruma" read " they make me feel sorry for myself and tempt me to dangerously dance on the ledge of a very tall building chanting God is dead!"

Gosh that crushed me, here I was thinking my poems give people an insight into my world as well as teach people and yet here was this Kenyan telling me ati huruma huruma man, i was pissed!!!

Then I went back to the guys blog andI identified with some anger that he displayed

thats when it hit me: blogging is an avenue to vent and share your vents( you know what i mean) with like minded or not people coz every now and then you need to write it down so that you can pat yourself on the back when you succeeded in either teaching someone somthing or sharing an insight in your life or not shooting

Anyhoo so you can tell my blog is about poetry , love and God plus everything in between why? because these three elements form my trinity, my essence and my confusion

so enjoy, comment and i hope you learn something...or not