MY THREE LEGENDS

 I always knew I wanted to be a mother.However, I didn't have reasons for it.I just knew that it was the natural course of life. I also always knew that I wanted my first born to be a boy and then a girl. For this, I had a pretty good reason. I wanted to rewrite my own life .At least a small part of it. I always wanted a big brother.A sibling who would love for me just as I saw my siblings love each other. Well, that's a story for another time. 

God is a God of miracles and his plans are higher than mine. Once he began to bless me with the gift of children, he saw it fit that I mother three sons.I know that sounds like a lot.I call them my three legends.

I genuinely believe that these sons of mine will accomplish big things on this side of eternity. I am so privileged to be the mother to three sons.So many people looking from the outside in talk to me about how difficult it is to raise three boys. It is a handful but with my three legends it is really straightforward. My boys are really easy to raise. As soon as I understood how full of life they all were, being a mother to them became so much better.

Each of my three legends have distinct personalities. They are all very opinionated individuals which makes my house a courthouse majority of the time. None of them is a pushover.

The noise and reports makes for very lively and noisy days and evenings and sometimes early mornings.The name "mum" is called so many times in a day it leaves a ring when I go to sleep.It is when I received all my three legends together that I began to sleep like a log 

Tonight as I spread my bed ,as the sheet flew, I thought about my legends. I thought about them turning a task I can complete in a short while a whole game which extends the period of spreading the bed to about fifteen minutes. I remembered them eagerly standing on the side of the bed waiting for me to finish so that they can jump on my well made bed.It made me smile.

(My legends are with their grandma for the holidays.Yes, by the sheer Grace of God I am a very good mother to three sons but I need to fill my cup once in a while. )

I have made a promise myself to parent these legends of mine without murmuring. To be thankful for every precious second I get to spend with them. I thank God who made me their steward as they transition to men of substance.Every single day, I ask God to show me how to do this important job.

My three legends are special .I truly believe that their story is just being written 

THE LETTER(I HOPE IT REACHES YOU)

 Dear Olive,

I trust that this letter reaches you on time.

I got your email.You had banked on me opening my email long after it was too late for me to do anything but I guess fate had other plans. You see I have enrolled in this online class that requires us to constantly check our emails - tough luck.

I have read your email several times.I am pretty certain that I am finally able to share my thoughts with you from a point of clarity and sobriety. It made me feel a little crappy but just for a short time. For about a day and a half I churned my mind over and over looking for ways I could have seen you.Like really seen you.I went through so many events in mind wondering which one was the day that there was a crack and I had not caught it. Well, I am sorry that I did not find the day. I am sorry that I was not able to see the real you even though we shared so many years of life together.

Olive, you are my source of strength.I always pour out my issue to you because you always know what to say. You always have helpful tit bits of information that I found helpful.Oh Olive, I am sorry I never gave you feedback of all the help you gave me.Tell me, would this help you to feel better about yourself?

In your detailed email, you speak of impossibilities. You tell me you have searched for happiness and it has always been elusive only making short lived appearances once in a while.I understand. I have been there Olive, I occasionally get there.I cannot tell you to hang on.I don't believe you are left with that option.I can only tell you I understand.

I am not sad or angry. I am a tad disappointed that we could not contribute enough joy to make you stay.You wrote to me that you are so tired. I understand.When we get too tired, we cannot give anymore.When we are all drained, we cannot pour anyore.I understand my dear.

I want you to know that you mattered to me.I need you to know that you are a rare gem full of kindness and compassion. Thank you for not letting those you plan on leaving behind wonder what could have been.

It is such a painful circumstance.I want you to know I understand.I am thankful that you got to read my response.

I understand why you must end your life on this side of the planet.Dear Olive, as you pass on to the next life,I wish for you to find your happiness.I wish for you the capacity to discover your own strength within.I wish for you to always have the strength to rise again even when you get tired.I wish for you that life will treat you kinder over there.I wish for you light.

Goodbye Dear Friend,I understand.

PS: thank you for the party invitation.We will truly celebrate for we know for sure,it will be your last.

KEEPING ON...

 I must have either heard or read, "If life you say life is hard, what are you comparing it against?" Good question. Life is just life. Life presents itself in different forms. It can come disguised as something which we lack the capacity to deal with and sometimes life presents itself as a challenge we are able to easily handle. We need to train ourselves to believe that what we face in life is something that we are able to deal with. We need to believe that we have the capacity to handle how life presents itself to us.

The covid 19 pandemic hit some of us hard. We were not prepared for a scenario like that and we had to face the music. I had to face the music. My source of income had just come to an end and our industry was no longer offering paying jobs due to the uncertainty of the situation in the country. I have been broke before but there was a silver lining. I have always known how to come out the other side with may head above water but this was different. Everybody was in a fix, starting a hustle at the time seemed like an impossible dream. However, what the period offered me was time to gain some insight on life. 

Life is fickle. Life as we know it can change in the twinkle of an eye. That period revealed to me just how powerless the human race could get but at the same time just how deep humanity could feel.

During the pandemic, humanity was forced to dig deep into their humanity and make human connections. It was beautiful for some and disastrous for others.It was beautiful for me. I spent a lot of time with my young family then.We talked about dreams and goals. All of us were present because COVID cut out distractions. 

During the pandemic, all that mattered was being alive. All of a sudden the extremities of life didn't mean much. We cried with those who lost the battle to COVID and we celebrated with those who beat the virus.

People set up complete orchestras in their buildings to entertain their friends and neighbours. Friends and family created time to spend with each other on various social media platforms. It was beautiful. In my world,I understood that there was still hope for humanity.

On the other hand, as the limits of humanity was being stretched, some people received the shorter end of the stick. Couples filed for divorce because they discovered that they were not compatible. Living together for long periods of time caused them to face the reality of who they really were and many could not stand who they were faced with.

Sadly, cases of domestic Violence rose exponentially. I personally attribute this to extreme levels of stress borne from the circumstances brought about by COVID -19.There was a lot of loss of jobs and lock downs which was scary for many people. For many people, their mental health was unsteady and faced with a little stress, they caved in.

Life is uncertain. Life will change. It is upto us to understand that there are seasons in life and to be ready to appreciate the seasons of life we are in. Not only should we appreciate ,we should also be conscious of the seasons of life.

I have learned that we need to do our best to prepare for life. Learn to be grateful for the now. Be open minded to change -whether good or bad. Life can indeed get tough and uncertain and during those times, only our mind can get us through. What we believe will guide how we act through life. I believe we should train our mind to believe positive things and be patient.

Life keeps on going. It never stops for anyone. So, keep going....

Remember to extend grace....

When Death hit too close....

 He frantically knocked on my door asking for my husband. I did not like the intrusion but I stood to get my husband who had turned in early that day. My husband was reluctant to go but I urged him. I sensed something was horribly wrong and top of my list was that someone had tried to hurt his family by breaking their bedroom window which faced the road. Nothing prepared me for what came out of his mouth as soon as he saw my husband.

"Irush amekufa!" (translated as Irush is dead). My heart began to race and I held on to the baby I was carrying in my arms. I smiled because I am one of those people whose first reaction to any news is a smile or a laugh. I don't know what it is but that's the way I am wired. I could not move.

This was earth shattering news. It was a bad dream that I knew I would wake from.It was not.Irush had been shot and fatally injured to the head by terrorists. Sadly, he had succumbed and passed away. He was only thirty-one years old and the last born of three. A month prior to his death, he had just held his traditional wedding ceremony and was expecting a child .

The guy in question - "Irush"-was a cousin to my husband. No, we never called him that though.Over the course of their lives, he had grown to be a brother. They practically grew up together. I met him whilst I was dating my husband. We had a cordial relationship and I enjoyed his company whenever we met.

I will miss him this man. He was so full of life and he was funny. He lived his life intentionally. I will remember Irungu for his impeccable sense of neatness and cleanliness. He literally lived in a sterile environment. He had a permanent smile that never left his face. This man loved his family and even though his work took him away from them most of the times, he always made time whenever he could to meet with them. It was not uncommon for him to drop by a brother's workplace in the middle of the day just before he left for a certain police training. Sometimes, he would randomly meet you in town for a drink because those two hours were all he could spare at the time. I will remember him because he made my husband laugh. He made me laugh. I will remember him for his animated stories. His stories were very good. Irungu loved people and in so doing, he also served them joyfully.

The man loved his job and spoke very highly of it. He was a passionate officer of the laws. His work took him to many dangerous places in the country. These places were dangerous but he was well trained .

The news of his demise hit home hard. The pain was so hard and sharp. Most of the people who knew him felt angry that such a beautiful souls had been taken away from us so early.

Despite the sadness and the pain that surrounded his passing, there was an air of celebration. Don't get me wrong, not celebration of his death rather for the first time I witnessed the embodiment of celebrating a life well loved. My brother in law did live well. For the few years that he was allowed on this side of eternity, he lived. Really loved. Not only that but he made a conscious effort to capture memories as much as he could.

The days leading to his burial were indeed heavy but what stood out was the flow of photos that everyone had of him. We had so many memories and in almost 98% of all these pictures, he wore the most radiant smile on his face. Even the ones where he was clad in his full professional gear.

I remember him for living. Really living.I am personally reorganizing my own life so that I can go to the grave empty.

We are all in line to depart this side of eternity.One day, we will die but today, today we are alive. So we live -TODAY. We let go of that which does not bring us joy and peace. We ferociously follow that which brings us life.While we are at it, let's remember to document our life seasons. If not for us, then for those we will leave behind when we pass. The memories of us is all they will have of us.

That's it! Let's keep preaching peace and love in the world. Always remember to extend grace.

2ND TIME ROUND PART TWO....

 Thank you to all who take the time to read my articles. I am immensely grateful. I appreciate your feedback. Don't hesitate to let me know anything you would like me to share. I am open to writing your experiences if you are open to sharing your life experiences with the world. Let's interact on all my social media platforms too. Instagram-click here  Twitter- here      Facebook-here.

 

This is part two of my pregnancy series. You can recap here.

After a long agonizing wait for the ultrasound "doctor"/operator to show up, I was lying on the bed summoning all my prayerful ancestors to intercede on my behalf. I still don't know why the hospitals I have been to have a specific ultrasound guy and coincidentally he is never in the hospital until after numerous phone calls. This specific one was called Kevo. There is something about Kevos. I arrived at the hospital at about 1.00pm. Kevo finally casually showed up at 3.00pm.

 I took a minute to take in that high narrow bed in front of me.I had to take a deep breath when I had to climb up a step to get onto the bed. I finally made it and lay on my left side. It was a little less painful this way. Kevo looked at me and asked me to lie on my back. Oh please, as if this was my first ultrasound. I knew I had to lie on my back but I was not going to painfully chill as he prepared. I would turn when he was standing over me with the hovering pad and the cold gel. I let him know this of course.

When he was ready, he began doing his thing. I felt like my bladder would give in and let out. Kevo was pressing the hovering pad on my body at the exact point where the pain was the most. As I was trying to hold back tears, he was simultaneously trying to show me how my baby lay and what was causing the pain. I don't remember which part of his body was pressed on my stomach but my baby was lying funny. After an agonizing few minutes, Kevo was done. However, just before he concluded, I asked to know the gender of the baby. I had been praying for a girl you see. Kevo happily announced," Ni ndume huyu!" 

Those were his exact words. This was to be expected. My mother in law bore four sons. All my husband's uncles have more boy children than girls.By this I mean, an average of 2:1 in favor of the boys. Getting a girl was considered a miracle albeit a very happy one. My husband on the other hand was elated when I told him the news. He had secretly been scared of raising a girl although if you ask me, he would have been just a great a father to a girl as he is to our boys. With that news and a bagful of paracetamol tablets, I was dispatched. This time though I treated mama Safi and me to an uber ride. I was physically unable to walk all the way to the bus station.

The pain persisted for the next three days. After that, it went away just as swiftly as it has made its way into my life. I was glad it was gone. I did not wish that pain on anyone whether pregnant or not. I contemplated getting another ultrasound to check whether my baby had turned but ruled against it since I had elected to have a  C-section anyway.  As soon as I was able to walk on my own, I decided to go to Kasarani Maternity hospital to book a date for the surgery. This is the hospital I had chosen to deliver my baby in. As I walked the same route I had taken a few weeks earlier, many people were surprised to see me still pregnant. The brave ones subtly asked." Safari bado?" To which I replied, "Bado." Offering no details. After all, it was none of their business.

I met with the surgeon who would be handling my case. He took a look at my file and told me that I was a candidate for a C-Section delivery by default. This was because of how I was created. I was physically incapable of vaginal delivery. Something about my bone structure. I felt relieved. At least I had an answer to give anyone who felt like judging my decision to elect a C-Section delivery. Again, not that it was their business but there is a group of people who respect demands that you offer a satisfactory explanation for "dangerous and unnecessary decisions" you make. (People like parents for example). We set a date for 3rd August.

I was finally on my last leg of pregnancy. It was a good month. I felt good. I was no longer sick. I woke up early and in high spirits. Later, my friends would tell me that I looked pitifully tired. If I did, I did not feel that way. My baby had now increased his kicks to three or four times a day. I know this still sounds low but we were up from two times a day. He would kick at 12.00pm and at 3.30 am. Apparently, some babies just do not bother themselves with the exercise.

It was a relatively sunny Friday morning. I had dispatched my son to school. I was just lying on my sofa maybe browsing through my phone when I felt something wet ' down there '. I knew. In my heart of heart, I knew. It was time. Still, I googled. Uncle Google told me that sometimes the water broke many hours before the baby came or before the onset of labor pains-I was not in any pain-. So, I did not panic, I went to the loo and urinated just in case my bladder was under a lot of pressure. I came back to my sofa and there it was again. I did not consult google this time, instead, I made my own arrangements. 

I decided to eat a heavy meal as I awaited the dance of birth. This dance requires energy even though you are advised against eating. I had not yet had breakfast that morning and if I required surgery, I would not be able to eat for at least six to eight hours afterward. I went to the shop. My water was now dripping. I bought some eggs. I came back and made ugali- traditional veggies-eggs. Still, no pain. So, I ate. It was now noon. I had first felt the wetness at around 10.00am. I began to worry.

After my meal, I cleaned up, put on a fresh pad, picked up some stuff from my hospital bag just in case I was getting a baby that day. I called my husband to narrate my experience. Then I called my mum. She was concerned that I was in a matatu. Labor pains had not set in. I was fine. I went to the hospital and after explaining my situation I was admitted immediately. Not only was I admitted but I was booked for emergency C-Section that evening. Boy was I glad that I had packed my charger.  I sat on my bed awaiting the preparations. I had not experienced even the slightest iota of pain. It was like my baby was rewarding me for the agony he had put me through earlier. Also, I had been through a C-Section before. 

I called my husband to inform him that our baby was on his way. He is my best friend. I can count on him to be there when it matters. He is the only friend I can ask for help without feeling like he is the last resort. I wanted him present for the birth of our son. Unfortunately, he did not make it, thanks to Nairobi's traffic. Before you roll your eyes, our son had checked in seven days prior to my scheduled delivery date. This meant that the husband was at work. He missed the delivery by a few minutes. He came just as I was being wheeled to the recovery room.

I was in upbeat spirits even as I changed into my pink hospital gown and the saline water was injected into my body. My hospital mate was a sixth-time mum who was terrified to the death of the procedure. All her five previous births had been smooth vaginal births. This was her first surgery. I kept reassuring her that it would be okay. Since I was my own birth partner, I prayed that all would be well as I walked to the theater. Everyone was ready for me. I climbed onto the bed and assumed a relaxed yoga pause. I had asked for full-body anesthesia which the surgeon declined. So I curled as they inserted the anesthetic that would numb half of my body into my spinal disc. Then I lay down and positioned my arms like Jesus on the cross. What a position to assume since, on that table, you are literally birthing new life just as Jesus did. The anesthetist dared me to lift my leg as a check to see if the anesthetic had taken effect. I could not. My vitals were marked, after which the surgeon explained the procedure and began his work on me. I chatted with the anesthetist as the doctor worked around introducing my baby into my world. 

I heard him cry.

The nurse in-charge brought him around to my face and I confirmed it was a boy. (I had still been holding out hope that maybe the ultrasound had been wrong). I also immediately noticed that he was a spitting image of my father-in-law. As the surgeon worked to stitch me up, the nurse announced that my son was 2.9kgs. I had expected bigger. I am secretly afraid of extremely tiny babies. Oh, but my son had been determined to teach me new things from the very beginning. I was then wheeled to recovery and my sleeping baby handed to me. 

When my husband held his son in his arms for the first time, he had on his "This is nice" smile. It was a precious moment. I had dreamed about this moment for a long time.

I thanked God for safe surgery. Many mothers lie on that bed and never hear their baby cry. Many husbands/ fathers/ boyfriends sit outside the theater and do not take their loved ones to the recovery room. I was blessed and favored. Many women lie on that bed to remove dead embryos from their womb. My heart goes out to you. may God remember you. May God give you laughter for your tears. May God restore.

I was so happy my best friend was with me. Many women go through this process completely alone. I am sorry.

The gift of a baby is special. It is not an exaggeration. I feel so sad for the mothers who do not have this love. I pray that you seek help so that this gift is not a symbol of pain but one of hope.

My son was born at 6.30 pm on 26th July weighing 2.9kg. I stayed awake till 4.00 am, then " kulea" began. " Kuzaa sio Kazi", Kazi ni kulea.( the real task is not in delivery but in raising  the child.)

 

THE 2ND TIME AROUND

 This is  a short series on my pregnancy journey the 2nd time around. I will work on the first one soon. Thank you for all your support so far.

I am blessed to be a mother of two handsome boys. My recent pregnancy was so special. I was carrying a baby made from love. The father of my baby was the love of my life. However, my body sometimes put aside the mooshiness associated with this pregnancy and collaborated with hormones to make me feel miserable.

This pregnancy was different from the first in so many ways. We will just delve into the physical realities that I experienced during this pregnancy. Perhaps it's important to keep in mind that my first pregnancy had no complications at all. Except for the morning sickness associated with most pregnancies during the first trimester, it was a relatively smooth journey. I naively thought that this was because I had a "good" body for pregnancy.My son had other plans for me. 

A few weeks after my wedding, I began to feel very ill. A malaria test turned negative. By the special grace of God, I never fall ill. I get occasional headaches when I overwork my body but I generally do not fall ill. So the extreme fatigue and high fever I was experiencing threw me off. I became very concerned. Due to my history with illness, I was a little scared I am a full time stay at home mother. If I was seriously ill, I would be unable to take care of my family. 

My husband was working very hard at is job. He had to be away for many hours so I had to find the strength within me to make life work. After home remedies failed, I went to a doctor. No sooner had I finished describing my symptoms than he suggested a pregnancy test. I was cautiously optimistic about the outcome of this text. This is because many tests before had been negative. I did not want to take a test and be let down again. Still, I needed to get better so I took the test. After three minutes, the results were out. I was pregnant. The doctor then primitively inserted gloved fingers in me to ascertain how far along I was. I was around 8 weeks pregnant. 

I was too excited to plan a romantic reveal for my husband. The man was so busy and I was too sick. I called him and broke the news. He spoke English. More English than I had ever had him speak.Amidst many words, he said,"That's nice." For many people, those are just two words but for my husband, these are the words that simplify the highest form of joy. He normally wears a big smile when he says these words and you can literally touch the joy he feels. In a nutshell, he was happy. I was happy too.

The fatigue and fever was to be a constant companion through my pregnancy. I was often by myself in the house because my son had not yet joined me. I would go for upto 3 days without eating because anything that went it swiftly came out. I was not hungry. I would sleep on the cold tiles of my house because my body was so hot. My husband tried very hard to make my life comfortable. I had to take long periods of rest so that my body could function to do even the most mundane tasks like going to the shop or taking a shower. The long periods of rest helped a lot.

My second trimester had good and bad days. On one of the better times, I was able to travel home and bring mys on to be with me. We got him enrolled to school. I now had to learn to be a mother to my 6 year old son while nursing this different pregnancy. By this time, I had learned to take long rests. 

My husband gave me the easiest time. He went along with whatever I was feeling. There were many days when I was unable to even cook for him. He brought us supper instead. On my part, I always garnered strength to wake up and make my son's breakfast and get him ready for school. 

The constant pain in different parts of my body all the time had me taking panadol tablets even twice a day. I could not stop. My husband was out there fighting for us to have all we needed in life so I had to hold forte at home. It was our rhythm. I took one day at a time and we managed.

The long journey to the Kenyatta University hospitals for pre natal clinics were the toughest. I had to go to Kenyatta University because I was entitled to free medical care seeing as I was a student there. The nurses took great care of me. They would later advice me on where to deliver my baby. A piece of counsel that I am forever grateful for. 

At about 8months,I began to develop sharp pains in my lower stomach. By the second day, I was unable to walk straight. The pain was excruciating. When I could not talk eit anymore, I called my 'mama Safi "to help me get to a hospital. I must have been in so much pain because people who saw me walking would later tell me that they thought I was in labour. They felt sorry for me because I was walking toward the stage to board a matatu. I was not worried about the baby coming because I still recognized labour pains and what I was feeling was not labour. I was going to the hospital to get a safe strong painkiller to use because my faithful panadol was not cooperating anymore.

After being shunned by a few matatus because they thought I was in labour, a kind City Hoppa conductor helped me to a City Hopper bus. We finally made it to my doctor. He listened to my symptoms and diahonized it as a breech baby position. 

Let me explain. At around the eighth month, the baby begins to turn in readiness for birth position. Some babies stop turning halfway through and end up lying horizontally. This is what causes the excruciating pain I was feeling. My baby had decided to take a rest mid his journey. The doctor advised me to seek a midwife to help turn the baby.This did not sit well with my mother in law, my mum and me. My mother in law is a nurse. She vehemently discouraged the procedure. I vetoed against. 

I decided to get an ultrasound first and decide afterwards. They put me in an ambulance because the clinic I went to had the ultrasound machine in a different branch. No, it didn't have the sirens. I sat at the front with the driver while my mama Safi sat on a bench at the back. It was the most uncomfortable ride of my life. I don't know how critically ill patients survive in there. 

The ultrasound ended up revealing two things. 

1. It was in a breech position

2.It was a boy

The other news was that there was nothing that was medically safe at that point that they could do. They could attempt to turn the baby but it was a delicate medical procedure and was not necessary at the point. The other option was for me to tough it up and hope that my baby would decide to complete his journey.

Did he turn?

Find out in my next article. 

2018

For following me through this journey:I am grateful. It feels Validating. So, thank you.

                     *FOUR*
When the Luo guy left me, I decided to chill out a while. I knew that breaking that union was probably for the best but I had never really been alone. Since I first boarded the relationship bandwagon, I had never really been completely single. I was in a relationship - left-complicated - relationship again. This was my cycle. This time however, I was coming out of a union I had lent over two years of my life. I needed to breathe a little. God had other plans for me.

In Eastlands, He was just getting out of a complication too. His relationship had lasted almost three years but had died an almost natural death. He has been left too:unceremoniously I might add. It was during our breathing time that we re united again.

At this point, basing on how far we have come, it may seem that I am rushing stuff. The truth is, this exactly how we ended up married.

Nine months after the Luo guy left me, we began to talk on Facebook. This time, He asked for my number by the second sentence. He did not watsapp, he called. Now you remember we had never had a real conversation in all our on and off interactions. However, when he called, we comfortably conversed for nineteen minutes straight. This made me elated. I had never spoken to any of my relationship mates on the phone for nearly that amount of time. I was excited.

We continued our conversations to watsapp. I looked forward to his calls. We chatted easily. Maybe it took growing up to get us through our awkward non conversational phase. I was ready to explore the world wherever it took us. I was ready to remain a friend in case he was in a relationship. I genuinely felt like he was my friend.

A week or so after our exchanges, he asked if he could come over. I said yes. I was scared to the bone. We had been so happy over the phone. I did not want a meeting to cancel it. Still, I wanted to see him in person. I wanted to explore us one more time. For the quick thinkers, I mean explore our relationship.

He made to my house at 10.00pm.I could see that he was exhausted. So, I fixed him dinner, we talked a little about his work and we called it a night. While he slept, I watched. I watched him sleep and I felt peace. I stayed awake the whole night wondering what awaited us in the future. He left for work at 5.00am.

He texted during the day to say that he wanted to settle down and he wanted o do it with me. He was not asking for a girlfriend. He was asking for a wife. I did some research and some soul searching and some prayer. When I got back to him, I said yes. He did many things to make sure I stayed with him. And I am glad I did.

I spent a lot of time at his work. I followed him everywhere. In my defence, we had very little time to court. The man was ready to get a wife. He met my workmates who aprroved of my choice. Needless to say, He had transformed into a very confident, handsome man. He still gave me that piercing look that would make me freeze but this time it made me blush and feel like the sexiest woman on earth. Alejandro had nothing on him.

Less than six months after He made his intentions with me clear, He met my parents. We had our very simple traditional wedding /bride price negotiations. There was no going back. It is funny but soon after, both our sets of parents began to subtly and directly apply pressure on us to set a wedding date. We set one for 23rd of November, 2018.

The wedding plan period tested our friendship in ways we never thought possible. I like to confront issues while He would rather there be peace. These differences were amplified again and again. However, at the end of the day, He would always be the one I would lean on for strength.

One of the things I love most about Him is the fact that He gives me room to bloom at my own pace. I don't have to be anything to beloved by Him. I just need to be myself. I have learnt patience from him. I have learned to be more accommodating. I have made many new friends courtesy of my husband for the simple reason that he is a GOOD person.

We re-met and tied the knot in a span of one and a half years. It may sound cliche but it was meant to be. Our imperfections are what make us perfect for each other. Ironically, for us to effectively communicate now, we have to be physically speaking to one another.

We exchanged Swahili vows on 23rd November 2018. We know that we vowed to be together till death did us part but we did not understand majority of the Swahili vocabulary the pastor asked us to repeat after Him. We were just happy to have reached that specific part of our journey. I am blessed to have married the first and only man who gave me butterflies in my stomach as a little girl. The only man who thinks my sharp tongue is a funny trait.


* THE END... for real. *

We have reached the end. If you have any questions, do engage me on all my social media platforms. I will be glad to answer them. What's your love journey?