Just like me, you might have wondered a few times about how close we are to the end times or if we are living in the end times. I mean, all this crazy things happening to people and the even bizarre ones people are doing to each other, will never be normal despite its common occurrence. It will always be news. The thing that makes me more aware of these things is the relationship of the people engaging in the cruel acts. In very rare cases will you find complete strangers but in most of these cases, you will find relatives, siblings, spouses, very good friends and all those in the inner circle of friends.
There is one incident where a man killed his friend over 20 shillings. It was in the news. I commend those who covered it because they must have done the message in a way it stuck on me. Well, not the exact details but at least I remember the key message. We all have been in possession of a 20 shilling coin and I don’t know anyone being ecstatic about a single 20 bob.
I know 50,000 of those coins can make you a million bob but come on, what can a single 20 bob do for you? Hold up, I know there are people who live for that 20 bob for sure, I am not discriminating. Worst case scenario is if you lack or lose that 20 shilling it could cost you a meal or two at most. No one’s life is endangered. No one will die if they do not have that 20 bob. There are people who have lost millions of shillings but they still maintain their cool. Because they know that money will find its way back sooner or later.
My point being, such people are just frustrated. There are hundreds of things that go through someone’s mind. There are even more things people are going through. They pile and bottle them inside probably the best way they know how to deal with situations. That’s the same way people lose their minds. Just one more thing and the “bottle” is full. There’s the apparent reason.
Apparently, there is a man who killed the wife then chopped up the children as well then killed himself. I don’t know how the authorities found out about that order but that’s how it was told. A sane human being cannot take out the lives of others. I can’t slaughter a chicken about even slaughtering a hen so if you don’t like someone walk on. There must have been something underlying for this man to do that. I cannot play psychiatrist for now but there has to be quite a number of things that made this fella pick up a knife and chop up living beings.
Truth is, everyone gets frustrated sometimes and different people are frustrated by different things. But whatever it is, just deal with it as soon as it happens and in the most peaceful way. Bottling things up is not the best way to solve your misery. And bloodshed is never as solution. Never has been, never will be.
Christmas holidays were my favorite moments in my entire childhood. It was the time everyone was ecstatic about everything and the only time I wouldn’t get punished for my wrongs. Everything had a gleam to it, the nights were clearer, the skies starrier and the sitting room was brighter with all the shiny decorations and multicolored balloons.
However, the thing I loved most was the crates of soda in the hallway; the wooden gifts filled with bottles of goodness from Father Christmas. That’s one of the stories an uncle of mine who worked for Coca-Cola would tell me when I asked If Father Christmas pays visits to homes upcountry. He told me that because the farms were far and wide, he would leave the crates of sodas in our dad’s offices then they would bring home and share with those he loves.
The Wu-tang clan (My siblings all grown with their children)
My mother did not have the time to be angry because most of her time would be spent in the kitchen making delicacies she didn’t have the time to make all year round. All sodas were meant to be taken during Christmas day or thereafter but my brother could not wait. He took advantage of that no-punishment period to engage me in his mischievous escapades. On this particular Christmas eve, he came up with an idea of how he was going to steal a soda then replace it with water but I had to be the one checking out the coast was clear.
Of course stealing is done at night or rather that’s how the movies wanted us to believe. We finished our dinner earlier than usual and scampered to our rooms. It was so intense I felt like I was robbing a bank. The crate wasn’t hidden so it was quite easy to pick up the coke bottle strategically separated so it could make the least noise. He headed over to his room but locked himself up. He still didn’t open after several knocks and I knew I had been ousted from the plan. I stood at the door imagining the cold soda gliding down his throat and I knew I had to revenge. So I told up on him. I was glad he shut me out, the beating he received was not to be forgotten.
Come Christmas morning, that would be the day I would wake up earliest or sleep the least hours (I started cultivating this insomnia habit quite early) simply because I never wanted to miss out on anything. The nights were filled with movie marathons as we waited for midnight. My favorite movie for a long time was Home alone and I never grew tired of it. It made more sense to watch it around Christmas because it filled the snow void. 😂 It felt like I experienced the snow by watching and re-watching.
Christmas brunch was the epitome of bonding. We all sat together and shared the meal amid conversations but you know how the “table manners” is ignored. I use to overeat hides then gulp some Coca-Cola which used to act as a belch inducer, gross, I know. The remaining coke would always be too much for me so I froze it thinking I’d have it as ice cubes much later but I would always end up sharing it among my siblings as payment for handing me the tray and helping with the removal from the Ice tray.
I would relate the experience to that of this Coke commercial I loved because it made me feel and rekindle all those things I felt about family and being together.