A month or less shy of my birthday in 2015, a Saturday morning, could have been Valentine’s Day or some day around then. Continue reading “Of Affliction and Thanksgiving.”
Seeing Eric Omondi in the same space as Jimmy Fallon telling jokes reminds me of the day Lupita won the Oscars. I do not understand how Continue reading “No Ceilings.”
Tattoos have been one of the oldest body art and still going strong. Having to live with a deliberate (or not) decision needs all the advice one can get before imprinting something that will be with you for life. I do not have a tattoo, yet, but there are obnoxious versions of ink that make me feel sorry for the bearer.
- Think it through: think long and hard if that is what you want to carry for the rest of your life. As much as there are temporary tattoos and cover ups just think and don’t stop thinking until you have agreed with yourself. Never leave a party intoxicated and head to the artist. That is not a hangover that will go away after hydration. This might begin to sound like a career decision but the truth is this is much more than that.
I am afraid this is not about anything political, development, war/peace or economy related, so no I won’t be philosophical. I am Continue reading “Dear Obama”
Or should I go with “Heeey Michelle?” A belated Happy birthday to you first of all. The 5th floor sure does look great on you. Let me get right into it. I thought being 8521 miles away from your extended reign, you would not have that much impact in my life as an individual. Until the day Continue reading “Dear Michelle”
Shout out to all the perfectionists in the world, for this shall be our excuse to not do things because we are afraid of our work not being perfect. Isn’t it bizarre that the blessing, (will and potential) of being so good at something becomes a curse in disguise. The curse that takes us so long Continue reading “The space between”
Growing up in an African home, there are so many things that were made into silent rules. No one sits you down and reads a list of things not to do or what is required of you, you observe, learn and get in line.
When I was little, below 5 years little, I would run up to my father when he got home and he would lift me high up and maybe carry me on his lap. Then I do not know what happened when but it changed. It always stops somewhere. Nobody told me to. I just stopped. I do not even remember the transition. Perhaps it is an unwritten tradition, but all traditions are not written, so we will go with it being a tradition. Decent hugs are only exchanged between same sex relatives and no matter how excited you are you just shake hands with the opposite sex. That’s how I found it and I am not questioning.
Through all this, people love each other. Deeply. Immensely. Through action. Sometimes banter, reproach, tough love but they still love you. That is the truth. The husbands hardly called their wives, wife; it was just “mama watoto” (Mother of my children) The generation that followed was a little bit different, people could be seen together, hugs were exchanged, hands were held even in public and flirty glances thrown around. The cold hearts were thawing and the love as is known to our generation.
Enter the generation we are currently riding in. I am no love doctor or relationship expert but our idea of love is pretty much all over the place. Updating relationship statuses, pictures taken together, tags, trips taken together and the whole romantic nine yard. As messed up as it is, this P.D.A generation has to be the closest to the epitome of romance that I have experienced in real life. It is a good thing.
Love in any other name is still love. Actions especially. A warm cup of tea/coffee, a home-made meal, thoughtful gifts, inside jokes, protecting each other, holding hands, Spending time alone together, apologizing, forgiving, trusting, supporting and encouraging each other for the better, communicating as much as possible, creating memories together, compromising fairly without being a yes button. I can only run out of breath but not out of the actions that portray love. Not everyone who uses the four letter word with you loves you, these days it is a pleasantry. Hi love, hey hun, babe this babe that. Rolls eyes
Some questions/statements mean much more than just conversation. Have you eaten? How was your day? Let me know when you get home. How was your night? You do not sound okay, would you like to talk? Are you okay? Are you feeling better? Have you seen a doctor? Stay right where you are, I am coming! I think you would look better in the other outfit (and goes on to explain why).
No two people can ever be the same, and no one is perfect.
Men think differently and so do women, scratch that. Women and men are not wired the same. As unevenly yoked as we can be, love is a beautiful thing and everyone should experience it.
Life pans out in a very funny way, that’s why they say God has a great sense of humor. Mostly life pans out the way it wants and sometimes it just doesn’t pan, tilt, jib or zoom. (😄 throwing about camera lingo because I can)
You go on with your daily routine and every underlying thing as usual but when you lie in bed at the end of the day and recount what you have done and what value it might have added, you regret thinking about it. Because, disappointment. So you try and shut your eyes then realize your feet are cold. In situations like these you would often get up get an extra pair of socks and warm water in the hot water bottle. But not today.
You always go by lists and your life is basically listed, but of late you can’t make any because you low-key hope your old organized and “doer” self will come back. It’s becoming a habit. It sort of worries you but you also don’t really care at this point. So you proceed to shut people out. Mainly because you do not want to be explaining to people why you don’t know what you are going through. It’s like crying and not knowing why you are crying, do you ever have those?
Like, Once in a while just lock yourself in a room, play loud music and scream into your pillow and sob really loudly? No? You should try. Then when your neck and face are really hot and the tears are done welling up, just stop. If not, keep going. Don’t clean your face, just look at yourself in the mirror and try to smile. This is usually my sort of victory moment. It feels like surviving a storm.
Back to you.
You push yourself to do something, anything. So you take out the notebook that has secretly always made your bag look a ton or two heavier than a girl going about her duties. Those tiny sling bags that carry bus fare and lip-gloss are never your thing. (I will tell you why I have issues with those)
Not forgetting the book you are currently reading making your regular handbag last four months at most if is of good quality. With all this luggage as your daily must haves you wonder if people think you are doing the walk of shame. But really, no one cares. So should you. But you wonder anyway.
You stare down at the blank page, write a few words but they don’t make sense so you pick up the phone and scroll through your feed until an hour and fifteen minutes later, you feel like an undercover FBI agent because you know who and who else and their crushes including their exes dog tag color and can bet on that.
Then you realize how much of a social media slave you have become, a loser in the making and how much you have single handedly cultivated it. Then you become sad again. You might be an introvert but today you do not want to strike a conversation with anyone. Sunglasses are your savior so any time there’s anything gleaming for longer than five minutes, you always have them on. Why squint when you can spy, right? If you successfully ignore someone, it’s a small victory. If they see you and are smart enough to read your mood, you nod in greeting or wave. Another small victory. Then there’s that one who doesn’t read the mood or have business to mind so they engage you and want to dissect your business approaching with a wide grin and you roll your eyes. good thing they can’t see. They strike a conversation but you put them all out with one word answers. They ask “what’s wrong” as if they care. I bet you wish you should have run the other way.
You have been listening to drake’s songs back to back, you start feeling a little bit lonely and guiltier. Then you want to pick up the phone and apologize to that guy that has been trying to hit on you. For being such an evil heartless prick, but you still don’t like his face so you let that slide. I would rather be single, you say to yourself.
It is still cold when you get home, so you fire up the laptop, your only source of entertainment. Make yourself a cup of green tea and start looking for something to watch that won’t drag you down. Hot water bottle, check, blanket, check. The phone buzzes. You are surprised you hadn’t taken it out of the bag. I.M. you think it’s one of those groups but you check anyway. Just one of those “Hey stranger” texts.
Forget the movie, forget the tea. It triggers something and you get inspiration to write a trilogy and the movie script alongside a playwright. Some find peace in quiet, others in noise but you draw inspiration from anger. Just like that, your mojo is back. And whether or not it dawns on you, such is life.
The second Season of the biggest Pan-African music competition is back and definitely bigger but it is also coming to a close. In a couple of hours. The second cycle has ten contesting countries Kenya, DRC, Gabon, Ghana,Madagascar, Malawi, Nigeria, Tanzania, Niger and Zambia.
Taking up music as a career is challenging enough and breaking into any music industry is even harder. Some pull here and a shove there has helped people get out of their cocoon, while other people never make it past the church choir. Not like its a bad thing, I’m just saying.
Many talented people are shy. Even Beyonce is shy. Imagine that. So Airtel saw it fit to give each and every contestant star treatment by bringing the audition to you. No queues, no nerves, not even judges with blank faces that make you think you should stick to singing in the shower.
You have hours left to call in and audition for your chance to be the next big artiste. I know, you are probably asking why I am doing this now? Because I know there is someone too afraid to reach out and call. C’mon. What do you have to lose? Ok, if you don’t want or need the phone or money, just do it then give me the prizes. I will appreciate. Thanks.
Phy (Ng’etich) is proof that last minute does works. Serving her IG followers with heavenly renditions, she says “Murda (by Seyi Shay) Kinda reminds me of how I auditioned for Airtel Trace. I was seated at the same place and I used my guitar as well. I auditioned on the deadline day too, using my mum’s phone, so I figured there was no way I’d be chosen. But God has His mysterious ways because a month later during an exam period I got a call. It could be you!”
All you require is a phone and an airtel line. Dial 0900733733, call, sing, Win. The top 5 will be picked by the official judges, three musical geniuses Wyre, Atemi and Chris Adwar.
Prizes include an iPhone 6s (how I wish I could sing), KES 1.5M, and a chance to be mentored by Keri Hilson and record a song with her. If that is not incentive enough I do not know what is. See you on the winning side.