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?

CONFUSION STAGE

Welcome to the third installment of the wedding series. I appreciate all of you who have read. A special thank you to The Jewels who have supported me since I began sharing my thoughts.Maybe one day I will tell you about The Jewels.

                                                             *THREE*
I made up my mind that He was neither the man I had nurtured in my head nor was he the man I wanted to be with.
This decision had two parts.

Part One:
During one of our Facebook or text messages conversations, things took a deep turn. This always happens when you extend boy girl conversations well into ungodly hours. Darkness always invites a certain kind of vibe. It was during this time that it accidentally slipped that HE was in a relationship. Not the one with Jesus or his mother. You remember the torch that I had kept lit for him all this time? Yes? It just went out. It hurt so bad. I dont know why I had expected him to be faithful to a primary school fling but...The thing about me, although I hate it; I prefer to be told things in plain black or white. i do not have the mechanism in me to read in between lines. My DNA omits that in installation.Now that I am older, just knowing that about myself makes navigating life a little easier.With the knowledge that that was the way I am wired came a certain kind of freedom. I am able to now unashamedly ask anyone to clarify what it is they are saying even though it may seem obvious to the rest of the people. I give it in black and white and so I expect to receive in black and white.
I digress.
In my naive Kakamega mind, he had committed a grave sin. Even though boys did not look my way, I still felt that I had wasted valuable time holding out hope that he too was waiting for the day we shall finally re unite. Nevertheless, I still listened to him as he tried hard to come back from the slip up. He was offering many sentences in the form of apologies.It was past mid-night and even though I am a night owl, I suddenly felt tired. The conversation suddenly became too boring and heading to nothingness. In the midst of both of us trying to recover, he from slipping up and I from the shock of being" Cheated on",somebody suggested that we meet physically.Hence, He coming to Kahawa Wendani.

Part two:
I met him at the stage near Magunas Supermarket. I do not like boys/ men younger than me. They exude some level of immaturity that I am unable to handle. I am a firstborn who was tasked with responsibility and expected to honor them at an early age. I blame my position with younger men on this. One of the things I particularly disliked about younger guys was their embracing of the  fashion trend that was skinny jeans. Guess what?!!!!!!#####!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, you guessed  right alright. He showed up in a pair of skinny jeans. I could not turn back at that moment. I had to see this meeting through.
We exchanged an awkward hug. I still had not gotten a hung of this hugging men thing as a greeting but it was one of the things I had to learn if I was to successfully transition from a village girl to a town girl."dem wa uni". There was another factor that aided in my decision. My head HE was an Alehandro( i will only ever elaborate this at gunpoint) He. This one standing before me was so ordinary. I found it difficult to reconcile the two.
I am a terrific actor, so I bought him chapo Madondo at a cafe. I did not buy from the women with many sufurias selling different cereals. The perfection spirit had swiftly made a comeback as soon as I set my eyes on him. I feigned confidence as I pulled the remaining two hundred shilling note from my wallet. The food had cost me one hundred and sixty shillings. As I put my forty shillings back in my purse, I ticked fail in my head. He had failed the second test. He did not offer to pay for the food. Had he come all this way to eat my food. He could at least have offered to buy soda. He has never given me a good enough explanation for this unacceptable behavior to date.  We walked the dusty Kahawa Wendani road and landed at my extremely humble abode. It was truly an abode as it consisted of my bed, a table and my suitcases. One on the bed and the other under the bed. Even as I offered him a bed, I regretted ever agreeing to meet him at my place. I felt so embarrassed that my ears became hot. I served him and we ate in silence. I had to stop eating because even my eating was not perfect enough. He has this piercing gaze that made it impossible to do anything without feeling like he was watching my every move. The last thing I wanted was to make a fool of myself in front of him. Our talking problem reared its head higher than ever that afternoon. Oh, it was the most awkward meeting I have ever had with anyone. When I could not take it anymore, I made up an excuse about a group discussion I had nearby. I needed to tell my friend about the encounter. I walked him a few meters to the road. No sooner had he left my sight than I blocked him on my phone and on social media.

As I negotiated a corner toward my friends house, I knew that I would never see him nor talk to him again. Things took an interesting turn for the village girl. I found myself a bad guy who taught me unhelpful things like skipping class to just sit in a campus room and walk the walk of shame severally. I one day walked this walk pregnant.I left him. I found myself a smooth talking Luo guy who was smitten by me. I left him too. I then reconnected with my Luo guy. We tried. He left me.
Between my escapades with these men, HE was always in the picture.I would block and unblock him but he was always there.When the skipping class guy got me pregnant, I got even more confused. I could not believe I had lost my virginity in campus and in a campus room. I could not bear to be me. I wished I could run away and leave myself. I had never let myself down to that level. I felt I had lost something precious.I was a mess.

I thought about suicide but did not like my options. I had settled for poison but did not know how to go buy it without being asked so many questions. I am a good actor but a bad liar when asked straight questions. I did not want to mutilate myself because the pain would be too much for me to bear. I did think of a jiko but where would I get one. Besides, I was not good at lighting jikos. Also, I did not want to end  up in hell. I shelved the suicide idea. I settled for an  abortion. I did research which is amazingly readily available. I met nurses in reputable hospitals who were willing to help me. Their only concern was that I would be able to rest because of the heavy bleeding after the operation. I had everything ready. I gathered money fro various sources including the seed planter , bought many pads and cotton wool and waited for morning. At midnight, my friend called me and spent the better part of the night talking me out of the abortion. She promised to walk with me through the whole process which she did. She took great care of me like I was her daughter.(This is for another day.)

The next morning, I left for school. I was constantly in thoughts of awaited me in the future. Death seemed like a peaceful option but I could not find a reason to convince myself to go through with it. HE and I were in a season of unblocking so we were back to chatting. I typed," I am Pregnant." He typed," I love you." I blocked him. Those were the very words that had put me in the predicament I was in. I did not need them. I could not handle them. He later explained that it was a desperate attempt to keep me since he thought I was only telling him that to push him away. I dont know hwy he thought because I rarely tell straight lies. Most of the lies I tell are of omission. When I talk, I tell it and I tell it in plain black and white.

That block was the longest one. It was during this time that I met Luo guy for a take two. I would later learn that he also met his person. When Luo guy left me, I was a free bird. I had decided to try and be single for  a while.I was just figuring out my life. My son was four years old at the time. I had just enrolled for masters. I had unblocked most people I had blocked in my younger years. He had made the cut. I could not bring myself to talk to him and explain that the block had been made out of pain this time and had nothing to do with him.

Then, what would be the beginning of a series of miracles happened.

* to be continued..... 

TEMPORARY SEPARATION

Welcome to the second installment. I really appreciate the feedback from the first installment.

               *TWO*

The end of primary school meant the beginning of a new season in my life. I call it upper adolescence. The changes in the body really begin to take shape. With the changes come the emotions. It's a confusing time because it's the time when one needs the most love yet rejects it the most. It's like a child being forced to fit in a big body and expected to act like their body yet has no capacity to do so. Adults around me would sometimes tease me about how my perky my breasts were. (This is just wrong) . What they did not realize was that the little uncalled for teases would mount up to low self esteem and body hate. This would last until I was well into my adult life.

One of the things that helped me cope with my confusing situation was the hope that I would re-unite with him. I still held out hope despite the farewell letter. At the back of my mind, I knew that there was somebody who cared for me regardless of what form my body took.

We tried to communicate via phone. I did not own one so I had to use my mother's. He could not text me because my mother would have found these messages. He had to call. As aforementioned, we were not good at talking to each other. Something happened when we heard the other person's voice. I for one began to tremble and words simply refused to leave my lips. Our telephone communication did not go well and when I joined high school, it stopped.

Despite having no communication, I held out hope that we would one day meet and pick up from where we left off. He was constantly on my mind. This hope helped a little bit when none of the cute guys during school outings paid any attention to me. I lived in a fantasy where my prince charming also spent his time wondering about whatever happened to his sharp tongue princess. I was struggling with my studies(too many subjects). I had to go through this struggle 'on my own'.He was not there to help me in the areas that were difficult. Still, sometimes I made an effort just because I imagined that wherever he was, he too was making an effort. I conjured images of him as a man in my head. I didn't mind when my classmates received letters from boys because I was so sure that he was waiting for me. He would be on the other side of what I considered a temporary separation.

One day, a girl in a lower class came to me and asked if I knew him. My defences went up. This time it was not because of competition rather because of fear. My all girls high school was a strictly no boys zone. If the administration even heard a rumor that one of us as much as looked at a boy, the girl in question was in hot soup seasoned with the strongest pepper available. I had enough problems as it were. I could not afford to add "boys" to my list. Still, I cautiously gave the girl who would later turned out to be his family friend audience. It was a short message. "he says HI".

The effort to reach me dwarfed the brevity of the message. Once again, I felt special and honored. He did not contact me again through my high school.

I completed high school without pomp and quickly joined campus a few months after my final exams. I carried the ever lighting torch for him to campus.

 Campus was different from anything I had ever experienced. There was freedom.
Armed with my huge baggage of body image and self esteem issues, I began the next phase of my life. One that would ultimately shape the rest of it. There was so much to learn. One of them was Facebook.

It would be on Facebook that we reconnected. Since we were typing, it was a lot easier to communicate. We would catch up as friends but never once actually spoke to one another. What both of us did not realize was that, while we were on our "temporary separation", we had evolved into different people. We had shared different experiences and developed different outlooks on life.

I was at the University in Nairobi. I would finish school and get a good job. I had lived with my imaginary him that I actually believed in my heart that he looked like that. In my quest to transform from a village girl to a city one, I began to live my life against what I saw with my classmates and what I saw in the movies. I wanted an "Alejandro" handsome man with cars, on ewho would instantlysee me and take me to the movies and buy me nice jewelery and clothes. Oh, I cringe when I think of that time in my life.

We planned to physically meet. I am not sure how. He came to Kahawa which is where I lived. I took  one llok at him and made up my mind.

*... To be continued....

THE GENESIS

Prologue
This is a series based on the journey leading to my wedding and after. I learned many things. I also experienced a lot that made me grow up fast. I hope that as you read through the following pieces, you will learn a few things too. While I appreciate that all of our scenarios in life are different, we all learn from the experiences of those around us. In order for growth to be achieved, it is important to be open to learning. During the period of my wedding, I felt pushed and tested but I also picked up lessons. Some useful-some not so much.
 
EPISODE 1

               
                 **THE GENESIS**

I had a long, difficult adolescent period. My body was undergoing so many changes that I didn't know how to handle. I had read about these changes in class but all who told me about them skipped the part where they were to tell me how to handle all these changes. My mother tried, she told me to stay clean, to wear a brallete for my breast and to buy a Deodorant for the sweat. We never got to the part that tackled my ever increasing attraction toward members of the opposite sex. I don't know who told me but I always knew that it was prudent to wait to have sex after marriage. That was about all the sex education I received. I would later learn that sex with "boys" would get me pregnant.

Armed with my meager knowledge about what awaited me, I stepped into my adolescent life. I was eleven years old when I noticed my breasts sprouting. I was the only one in my class who was undergoing these changes so I did the best I could to hide them. I wore my heavy red jacket through the day and only took it off when I got home. I only got comfortable walking without my jacket when a few other girls sprouted breasts and they didn't water jackets. That made me feel safe and only then did I believe that I was okay.

 I sailed through the next couple of classes going through the motions. I didn't know I could talk to someone about what I felt. I learned to go through my problems until they fizzled out or I found a way out. This is a skill I carried with me through my adulthood. I began to dress differently so that I could catch the attention of the older boys around me. For some reason, I did not fancy the boys in my class. They seemed so childish. My confusion coupled with my need to be perfect led me to set up some defences of my own in order to cope. I increasingly became isolated and developed a sharp tongue which made people think twice before they interacted with me. I moved my desk to the back of the class and stayed without a desk mate through my class six and part of class seven as it was known then.

He walked into my class and my heart literally skipped a beat. And after that it began to beat fast and would not slow down. Since I was the only one without a desk mate, he was assigned to be my desk mate. I noticed on the spot that he was a little older than my classmates and I felt so excited. In his presence, I felt the need to be perfect. In his presence, I felt like the quality of air was different. I have never known how but I learned so much about him in a very short while. The reason why I did not know how I had all that information about him is because he and I rarely spoke to each other. We communicated almost telepathically.

He had a certain inexplicable effect on me even at that age. I loved it but I didn't know how to handle it. I needed to be and feel perfect under his gaze. Despite my sprouting breasts being a source of embrassment at the beginning of my adolescence, they were now a source of pride. This is because in my eyes, he was an older boy who would appreciate my "becoming into a woman". I was now eager to try out bras because I had someone to show my body off to. I could not wait to take my sweater off so that he could see that I was not such a small girl.

I took it upon myself to watch over him and take care of him. I told myself that one day I would marry him. We found a way to mutually help one another in our studies. I was poor in science while he was poor in English. We found a way to help each other out. Without words, there was a certain push between us that made us want to make it on behalf of the other. We were a team and both of us worked hard for the team. Needless to say, we both passed our final exams.

There are moments that still stand out in my life to this day. Moments where he made me feel so special. He made me feel I mattered.

The first was where he wrote me a short note asking if we could be together. He first apologized and then proceeded to state his case. This gesture melted my heart. It was the first letter I had received from a boy any age.

Secondly, he was careful to apologize incase he had offended me. In hindsight, I think he wrote that because he knew how explosive I could be. Still, it was sweet. Of course, I replied in the affirmative. I had to get boy letter writing skills from my friend but I sent one back.

The second was a lyric newspaper cut out. Mmmmh, those lines were deep.

The third was a success card for my KCPE exams. The only other people who had sent me a card that size were my parents. It was around this period that a certain girl who was my namesake and a class lower than me presented herself as my competitor. She flaunted a small success card she had sealed and addressed to him on my face for so many days before informing me that she had sent it. For the first time since my interaction with him, I felt a tad jealous.

However, what he did is and will forever be etched in mind. It is the most special thing a man has ever done to me even though technically at the time he was a boy.
He sent me a second card that same evening that the small girl had sent hers. This was to reassure me that we were good.

We sat our final exam. He sent me what was to be the last letter he would ever write me. In it, he was basically asking me to prepare for our separation because he was not sure we were ever going to see each other again. I cried my heart out but there was little I could change. I was to later meet him when I was in second year in campus.
       
                **. - End of part one-  **

FINALLY LEAVING THE BRIDGE...

A lot of water had run under the bridge but Bridget was still at the bridge. Sure, a lot of things had also happened at the bridge but the point is, she was STILL at the bridge. The bridge where it had all ended. A 3 year relationship with Daniel. One day she was in a relationship and then she was not.

Bridget was married now. His name was Ralph. He and Daniel were as different as night and day. Sometimes, when she was alone with her thoughts, Bridget would often wonder how she could have loved these two men who nothing alike. Ralph was simply a good human being. He was a happy person. Ralph was proud to be the man that he was and that is what made him the most attractive.Of course he is also very good to look at.

Bridget almost chocked on the strawberry-vanilla milkshake she was having at a popular cafe. That voice-she knew that voice. Daniel always said her name with a certain thick luhya accent which made it sound like it had way more syllables than was intended. "Bree-jee--ti. " She quickly composed herself before she looked up and almost certain she had achieved the clam necessary, she managed a smile and replied, "Hi, Wafs". Wafs is short for Wafula. That's what she called him during their time together. In his typical way of making himself look polished and important, he continued, "Wow, long time. May I sit?" Bridget simply pointed to the chair. This resignation was a result of her unsuccessfully trying to find an excuse for not allowing his request.

Now what?
"So, how are you?", she began, determined to take the lead of the conversation. "I see your posts on Instagram(Bridget was not one of those who said IG), they are quite motivational." she  concluded her opening speech.
Wafs readied himself to respond, in his typical "maringo" way. The English word eludes me. Bridget remembered how  that particular habit had always annoyed her and she inwardly congratulated herself for not being with the man. She briefly allowed herself to compare Wafs to her husband. Her husband would smile for a couple of seconds. Then, he would go on to ask how she was doing?
In other words, Ralph was genuinely interested in the affairs of her life. Wafs was always on the defense even when there was no case or attack.

The familiar slurr of her name brought her back from her wandering thoughts.
 "Bri-ji-tee, eih, kwani akili iko wapi?" he was asking.She felt her lips thin out into a "smile".
Looking at the man in front of her brought back all the times she felt inadequate at his side. She remembered all the times she struggled to change herself so that he would look at her as someone whole, no, scratch that, something whole. She looked at him and remembered the way he worked hard to transform her into a trophy girl. She particularly remembered the day he was so mad at her for not dusting the house because she had to go for an early audition. Bridget was an aspiring actor. She ran a hand on her head and remembered how she had endured the heat of weaves on her head because Wafs did not like women who cut their hair. Bridget clearly remembered how frustrated she felt because she could not be herself. Most of all, Bridget remembered how he had simply let go of their relationship the moment she dared to show her true self. When she tried to grow wings, he simply let her go.

This had hurt her for a long time. She did not understand many things but she had finally gotten to the point that she had forgiven herself. She had forgiven herself for not being strong enough. For giving the responsibility of being happy, of being her true self  to somebody else. Bridget suddenly looked up and readied herself to get the closure she had always wanted to.

"Listen Wafs," she started.
"... Na unakaa poa, umekata weight..." Wafs began. Bridget cut him short right there.
"You ended what we had. You could not allow me to grow without being in your clutches. You wanted to monitor how far I flew. You wanted to change me into a trophy woman. You wanted a different woman who was not me. You were lazy and afraid to fight for me and for us. You were not man enough to accept me for me. You imagined that your six figure salary would impress me and when it did not, you let me drop. You expected me to worship the floor you walked on. You refused to accept that all I wanted was the real you because you did not accept the real you. "

" The way you ended things left no room for friendship. That bridge was burned down.You burned it down, completely razed it to the ground. So, I will appreciate it if you  kept your conversations to a bare minimum of a courteous hallo. Anything past that should only be because I am the last person left on earth to save your life. Whether I am fat or thin, or look good or bad is beyond your scope of concerns. "

With that passionate speech, Bridget opened  the cheque  on the table and slid in a crisp 1000 note, took her bag and stood to leave.

She somewhat felt lighter. As she turned to look at Wafs sitting at the table wondering what to do with himself, Bridget knew she had made the first steps away from the bridge. She was finally and firmly on the other side.

The 🌉 🌉  had not only been crossed but she knew that it had been completely destroyed. With a new spring in her step, she walked into the hot Nairobi afternoon.

          - THE END-

LESSONS I LEARN FROM MY SON...

Wow, It's unbelievable that I have not written in more than two years. I love writing and I am good at it. This means that I have no excuse for not writing and as cliche as I am about to sound, 2020 is my year!!! Here we go:
 Due to certain circumstances, I was only able to start living with my son last year(2019).We always had a beautiful connection and friendship but it's different when we have to live together and hear him call me"mum". I have gotten to learn a lot about him as a child(my child) and as a person - away from a child I would visit during the holidays-. That one has changed me in a few ways that I would like to share.

 Honesty-I have been known to speak in a way that most people consider "filterless". My child is very direct in his conversations.It could be the childish gullibility that all children have but seeing it from my son's perspective, I have began toappreciate the way I speak and began to accept that the way I speak is not a flaw. It's just the way I speak. Its just easier to speak what I am thinking.People can always adjust.

 Patience-Oh Lord! Give me GRACE!!!! This has been my prayer lately. My child is a very sweet boy with a very adult - like thinking mind since he has grown up around adults for the most part of his life. It is very easy to forget that he is just a 7 year old boy trying to be a child.It is during these manifestations of his child side that buttons are really pushed. Patience is not a virtue I have naturally(it is something I nurture everyday). However, living with my boy has been one hell of a patience crash course.

 Listening-Looking at this child of mine now, no one would know that he had speech challenges earlier in his life. He has developed into a very talkative boy with a noticeably vast vocubalry. He speaks really fast and randomly offers bits of information. One has to be very keen when he calls to your attention what he is talking about. He could decide to talk about an incident at school at 9pm when you just want to sleep or about a new animal he has learned about when you are cooking a complicated dish for your husband. I am unable to just hear him because if I want to learn about who he is, I have to LISTEN to him. If I am to create a relationship with him, then I have to LISTEN to him. Respond, don't react. This was the best lesson I have learned. It happened one day as I was doing dishes. He came up to me and said, "Mum, don't shout too much, why do you shout too much?" What followed was a very insightful conversation about how I react to things he does. In his own way, he basically asked me not to resort to the "mwiko" (this is a wooden spoon that I use to spank him as a way of disciplining him). That conversation was such an eye opener. It probably has been the biggest eye opener for me as a mother. I am proud of myself for working on that area of my life. I have to say, responding, as opposed to reaction: saves so much stress and opens the door to more fun and more living.

 Yeah,those are the quick lessons I have picked up from my son. Our son - mother relationship is so special because we need each other to live. I have just met my son, I am learning how to talk to him, how to relate to him, how to demonstrate love to him, how to defend him and basically how to physically be his mother.

I am so blessed to have a son like mine. To be bestowed upon this responsibility of moulding a fragile boy to an independent adult capable of handling life. By God's special grace, this child will be the best version he can be and he will live out his God created purpose.
It's my prayer for all my first-born. My son. My Prince 🤴

BUT IT WAS LOVE...

I was happy.
I was contented.
I had finally found him,my "the one".
He was very funny and actually got all my jokes. This does not happen often.They say that I have an interesting sense of humor.But he got it,and he laughed.
I think my previous relationship was just bad because in him I found a sense of wholeness.
I felt happier.

Maybe I had just grown up more than the last time and my expectations were a little more sensible but at the time I was completely happy.
Well,I was completely happy with him until he introduced me to his brother.

Now,dont you judge me you "judgers".
At least not until you hear my story.
You see,let me first label these two men so that we do not get lost as I let you in on my story.

Guy 1 ,we shall name Jay and Guy 2,meaning the brother,we shall name Jay.Good...

So Jay is a wildlife photographer which means that he is just busy.
I got together with him because he is also a creative- like me.
But sometimes I don't see ahead and therefore did not anticipate the nights I would spend alone in bed waiting for him.And then,he would come in the wee hours of the morning to take a shower and go back to work.
That arrangement therefore left me with the Kay option.

I need to say they are a cool charismatic family by the way.
So,we got to talking,turns out he was into fitness and diet and all things healthy .

That's very attractive in a man especially for a lonely girl.
One bike ride in Karura  Forest led to a mountain hike in Mt.Longonot and finally the grand finale which was witnessed by Jay on the couch.It was not possible to explain the very compromising situation that Kay and I were in.

Here is the most interesting twist(yes,I will just go ahead and tell you where the twist in my story is),Kay did not fling me aside and try to deny what was happening.No,we did not continue and no it was not sex,just compromising.
Things a brother and a brothers girlfriend should not be doing.

Kay and Jay just stood there looking at each other,the pain of the double betrayal paralyzing Jay right where he stood.Then Kay did something that was both stupid and heroic,he said," Bro,I love her."

It was between those words properly reaching my ears and me digesting them that Jay landed a heavy blow on his brothers face which sent him spiralling on the glass table.
Blood spattered all over the red and white carpet which Kay had once told me was Jays pride and joy.It was  his first year project in school.

It was in that moment I looked at Kays body that I knew that my life would not be the same should Kay die.
I dont know when I made the switch but it had happened.I hated Jay for what he had done to Kay.

Okay,for those who really want to know what happened to Kay and not focus on the fact that I chose one brother over the other,I will tell you.
Kay passed away on that table.Jay took flight but was arrested soon after and is now cooling his murderous self in a Kenyan maximum security prison.

I have not found what I had with the brothers.I am cooling my- what Kays mother called-' devilish spawn' self in a mental institution somewhere.My doctor told me that writing would help me get better .They believe I was sick but I am just a girl who found too much love in one house and then it was no more.

Love is...Part two

...I tried looking for the pain in my heart but it was absent. Mostly I just felt stupid. It was so clear now the eyes of my heart hurt.

Of course this was Sandra- the primary school sweetheart he would not shut up  about. I had thought(and thankfully so) that she had moved to the United States.  From the little I had heard from my Paul she was a terrific actor. So good was she that she had gotten a full scholarship to go study arts in some prestigious drama school, Brown University.

 She was back!

Paul would spend a good chunk of our time together talking about his long lost love. The funniest bit is that I would listen, even though I knew he had simply settled: for me.
I convinced myself that it was still okay since I was second best and he was the best thing that had ever happened to my life. I had met a couple of ... - how do I put it gently- different men in my time and I guess I was not ready to let an amazing man like Paul go because I was not the last thing he thought about when he went to sleep.
Paul made me feel important. He made me feel like I really  could conquer anything in my life. Paul was so caring it almost seemed unreal. He did not open doors or hold my hand while going down the stairs(I think just like me, he figured that the stairs had rails or I could just go down slowly and carefully), but he did open my mind to possibilities. Possibilities of happiness, of hope, of better. These happy moments were special in spite of the cloud of the loss of Sandra(meaning they had lost touch since primary school)always hanging on our heads. I welcomed this cloud as a shield from the harsh realities of relationships such as cheating and spite. Paul treated me so well; maybe he felt guilty because he knew deep down that he could never give me his all. Paul had accepted me inspire of all my short comings. We had been through so much together,he and I.

I was jerked out of my thoughts by that voice that I knew now I would never forget in spite of whatever would happen in that room.
“Purity...” Instantly, his hands tightened around the sleepy Sandra when she stirred awake.
The scene unfolding before my eyes was nothing short of amazing.
“P, what’s going on.” A sleepy, slightly raspy voice asked beside him.

P.? That’s what she called Him? P was a short for Paul (for the benefit of those who haven’t figured it out). He never used that name anymore. Once when we were in town, an old schoolmate of his from primary school called him that; P. He told me that that was a long time ago and that he now preferred to be called Paul or Baraka. Usually, I called him bae,baby,sweetheart,and any other sweet names I could find.
This Sandra woman just picked up from where they left off in primary school. P is the name she chose and when my man replied; “ I don’t know princess,”, I knew he liked it. The princess acted like royalty, completely  trusting her Knight in shining armour called P to handle matters. She did not move away but sought P’s hand and squeezed it.

Then they sat up and looked at me.
I cleared my throat, caressed the gun in my trench coat pocket and began my pitch because  clearly this royal couple was never going to.
“Sandra, yes?” I went on...,not addressing anyone in particular. “I came to kill you.”Now to add drama to my words, -I have always been dramatic-I took out my gun and placed it on the dressing table.
Again that protective hand gave a squeeze and her highness responded. Now,it started to irritate me.

I picked up my gun, cocked it and pointed at the Princess. “Slowly disentangle yourself from Paul and sit or sleep at the end of the bed,” I said. To my surprise, she did, without a word, just a slight, very quick it’s okay look to P. The distance between the two of them was now comfortable enough to look at and hold a productive exchange of ideas.

“Paul, you could have told me, you know,” I began my presentation .”I am not a monster and neither am I a piece of cheap chocolate that would melt at the slightest rise in temprature.I would get it. I would never force myself on you if you would exclusively told me that the one love of your life was back and that it’s she you wanted. I always knew I was the placeholder but you did not make any promises that you did not keep and I respected that, until now. You Paul should have told me.”

I was shouting now.

He just watched me and I could not help but remember the many times he had done that when I was ranting about one thing or the other especially about my job. He would always watch me talk and would only come in when he was certain I was finished. Normally, he would get the timing correct. Even though I wanted to be in control of the situation, I knew that in this particular situation, this was one I was not able to win. So, I picked another one; one I was sure I would win.

“Take a blanket or something and go sit out in the bathroom. Don't carry  a phone, you can read a magazine in the toilet ,”I directed my orders at the Princess. Within the help of my weapon (the cocked gun), I was able to reduce Paul’s protests to a blessed silence. The concern, worry, anxiety,  on his face were the victory badges I had been looking for.

Finally just Paul and me.

“You guys dress up after ...you know,”. This was how I had decided to begin my second half of the pitch. I have to say I was  not prepared for the answer I got though. I was totally disarmed .
“We are saving ourselves for marriage, ”he said.
What!!! The man I knew loved to have sex, although I have to agree he had been a bit elusive of late, okay maybe not a bit, but he loved it. Now, he was the same man sitting there explaining that he was holding it off until marriage. He was trying to tell me that he was willing to wait for the Princess until such a time as they got married. Paul was trying to tell me that the Princess meant that much to him.I am not saying I didn’t want him to wait for me, just that I didn’t ever believe that my being there, present would be enough to keep him. However, if we are being honest, I am trying to say that I don’t think such an arrangement would have worked with me.I was now jealous and that bitter saliva that would not get past the potato on my throat now threatened to inspire me to pull the trigger of my gun. I held it together,  I was jealous and a tad angry but I was not stupid.

“So, you two are a thing called what?” I soldiered on. “Are you lovers, friends, bed mates, companions, brother sister, “I enunciated my question just to make sure the answer I was given was the one to the question I had asked.i
“All of those, the brother and sister not so much.”
“How do you know you are all that.? “This was my counter.
Even as I asked, I realized that my interrogation had shifted from a need to understand why he would be with another woman in a hotel room whilst we were dating to a need to understand how they felt so right for each other, to understand  how they looked so right. I wanted to understand how he could care for the Princess with such a tenderness I had never experienced with him.

Paul went on and on about his princess explaining how they talked late into the night about everything-their work, they’re  school days. I saw his face light up when he described a restaurant they were working on. The Princess understood his work and exchanged ideas with him. I was a  business manager, I didn’t know much about design and decorating and of all things restaurants. He kept talking and as he did, I could see a light in his eyes that I had never seen before.

Right there, I knew that there were many things that could dim that light dancing in his eyes but me demanding that he didn’t leave me was not going to be one of them.I had lost my Paul,heck,I had never had him. I was holding a place for royalty and it was time to relinquish the spot.
“You are an amazing woman,I am just not the man for you, “ he said.
“I know that Paul....I was just never willing to accept that.  I guess I just wanted closure. You were a coward not to tell me when it was over though but I guess the Princess in the bathroom has covered that punishment.

“She is a lucky woman and the gun is not loaded.”

As I locked the door behind me,buttoning my coat, I knew I had done right by me. I walked out knowing I wanted what the Princess and her Knight had.

The crazy woman was helpful after all...

Love is...

Okay,so today we are going  to do some creative writing.
You know something from my head, a fictitious story. Okay, here I go...

That little,jealous woman who left my boyfriends room number on my desk is the
genesis of the following events.
I knew that we were no longer what we used to be but I was not in the business of looking for evidence. I was not ready to face my truth yet.

However,when the evidence does come up, well,how would I ignore it?
I showed up at Hotel Pronto at 7.00pm.Determined, I pressed button number 2 which would take me to second floor. And then,there I was, infront of the room knowing all too well that once inside,that was it.
I swiped the key card on room 37 and voila,I had crossed the line.
Lying on the bed was a beautiful picture.
The woman comfortably settled in the arms of the man. She was too relaxed, completely letting herself go in the man's arms. The man,though asleep still tightly held the lady,the protectiveness with which he held her was sweet.
Only problem,the man? He was my man..My Paul.
I tried to remember such a time with me and all that came to my mind was a blank slate. Sure,there were good times but not this type of serenity.
 I just stood and watched these lovebirds sleep,my man periodically kissing her forehead,her neck,her hands.
I stood and watched as my man tightened his grip on the woman.
I knew this girl,this woman who had seemingly given MY man what I had not managed to give him apparently...
I knew her....

(...To be continued)

THE SHOW MUST GO ON....

In the words of Alessia the musician,the author of a song that is fast becoming my favourite "Scars to your Beautiful", -" ...there is beauty in pain what's a little bit of hunger...".
Then it got me thinking about how little we think of the things that do not quite seem great.The times we have lacked,the times we don't quite fit.Beauty has been closed in a box of flowers and chocolate and stars.Beauty is what makes us ,us.

Beauty is getting over fear of putting on clothes that fit because of not being sure you have the right body.
Beauty is your larger appetite which people find unbecoming of a woman.I mean,it is what it is,that part of your life is you and it is beautiful.

Beauty is being able to tell yourself that the day to day decisions you make in life are decisions that are made by you and for you.
As a woman or man but especially woman,you need to understand that those low moments which look impossible to climb out of are what makes you stronger.I am not even joking.
Sometimes, the decisions we make in our lives look like the death warrant of our success,of our happiness.However,each of this experience, however deep it takes you,you have got to believe that there is a light in the darkness.

Life is a stage,us- actors.There are times that the spotlight is on you.And then it is gone, you are just an onlooker.You need to learn as you look; you need to learn your lines by heart,you need to pick your cues,you need to make sure you have the right costume for when the spotlight is on you and its time to deliver your part to the world.

Rape,abusive relationships,lack of money,low self-esteem,less than decent pasts are some of the things not considered beautiful. They are beautiful because while going through them,and overcoming them; you are better,you are stronger.
You have only got one life, this one you are living now.

The scars in your life have carried you to this point in your life.
And each of them is beautiful.
And even though they came with tears and sadness and lack of sleep and ridicule and rejection; the show must go on....
I have learnt these things through my own life.If I had a dollar for every wrong turn I have taken, I would buy BoraBora Island(I don't know how much it costs,I am guessing a lot).
But I am not who I was yesterday, I am better now.I value myself more now than I have done in my life.

Recognize the beauty in your scars, take your spotlight and let's keep the show rolling....

AUNTIE BOSS now needs you!!!!

So,not that the most watched local program is in trouble,nooooo.
What I mean is, the amazing local program has received 9 nominations.

This is a call for you to vote for them.
Auntie Boss, has been on our screens every week making you laugh and it has literally re-defined local programming in Kenya.
It has broken what has been known as the norm on T.v and the risks everyone involved has taken have led us to this moment.The moment where we have been nominated for the Riverwood Academy Awards.

Auntie Boss introduced to you Nice Wanjeeri as Shiro,the clumsy but likeable housegirl. It also brought you Silprosa played by Sandra Dacha; while everyone was wondering where Eve of Hits not Homework went to after she quit radio,voila,there she was as the rabid girlfriend Varshitta.
Maqbul,once again graces our screens with his undeniable talent playing Donovan.And then there is the amazing Matthew Mamangu who has literally grown up before your very eyes playing Kyle and has been nominated for Best Supporting actor in a T.V series.

All these actors have made you laugh ,cry,hate and now they need you to vote for them here so they can win.

Behind the scenes various crew members ensure that the quality of Auntie Boss is beyond amazing.

This time our Director(s) Arnold Mwanjila and Likarion Wainaina have been nominated for Best Director while our quiet but amazing editor Nicholas Kibathi picked a nomination for Best Editor for a T.V series which is Auntie Boss.

You can vote for them here.
Thank you for always watching Auntie Boss,and if you don't,you need to.

WOMEN are a WOMAN'S own STRENGTH.

I am a woman who has been at her lowest wondering when the light would come.
I am a woman who has ever wondered whether I had an inbuilt system to work my life.
I am a woman who has had and is working hard to simply believe in herself.
I am a woman who has cried herself to sleep more times than she can remember.
I am still a woman who has tried many things, failed,picked herself up and tried again.
I am the woman who got pregnant in campus while in church,gave birth and got back to fixing my life.They say,even though the broken pot can no longer carry water,it can be used to plant beautiful flowers.
I am the woman who will reach ALL her goals and fulfill her dreams before making a dramatic exit from the world.
I am the woman who is God's masterpiece,I am beautiful; I am stronger; I am bolder; I am a lover(of me mostly).

Along the journey of mending my wounded self-esteem.
I  have met amazing women along the way and I would like to celebrate some of them in this piece.They have simply inspired me by the way they live and deal with what life throws at them.
Open-mindedness and ready for any challenge are the two words to describe my super friend Yvonne.

Resilience and hardwork are traits that I surely admire in my boss LucyM. She stays up late and works tirelessly to just make sure that her projects come to life  and are sustainable.

Self love and Self confidence in one Sexy Sandie made me love my body for what it is.I appreciate that I am curved and there is nothing wrong with my body.And that name is her name.She is such a hardworker and is very thorough in her work.

That what I do and how I do;it is great !This is a philosophy I have learnt from one Ruth Make-up. She has come from so far in life  and I admire her spirit for life and her love for God.

Life is a party meant to be enjoyed is what I take away from my dear friend Issa.Yes,she is a woman.In full it's Isabelle.Oh,the woman loves life and I am pretty sure her love for life has greatly influenced her growth and progress in life.

My mother should be just about the most chilled woman I have met in my time. What people think about her rarely fazes the woman.She is so sure of herself and that,to me is very admirable.

In our healing journey,we sometimes need a little help on the way even though we need our own initiative to be able to pick up on traits from fellow women that we can model into our own lives so we can become better.They say;"Ladies, lets  get in formation,prove you got the coordination."We really need each other sometimes.Really.

I am incredibly blessed to have met these amazing women in the time I have been alive and I owe it to God to become the best version of myself.

And from the bottom of my heart,I pray that they will always keep inspiring their surrounding.

PAIN IS THE EMOTION,HURT IS THE FEELING

Hallo friends and a great 2017 from yours truly- me.
Thank you for being here and being able to read my stuff,it's like listening to me talk which is one of my favourite things in the world.
We like to celebrate life when good things happen,we like to notice and hold onto the good things that happened in our lives.We often trivialize or altogether fail to appreciate the not-so good that happens even though all the good and bad all come together to complete this fabric called life.
When addressed in the form of art such as music or written prose or a painting,it is often too heavy to handle but(pause),it is there.The not so great times in our lives are present.

Some of us are equipped to handle the heavy stuff that comes our way but a good number of those around us are not.Lifes tides often overwhelms them and we refuse to see or are unable to handle them when they are at their lowest.Its happening even amongst our peers,our friends being unable to handle the 'too much' that is thrown their way.Feelings of severe despondency and rejection (I got that from Wikipedia)-DEPRESSION.We have sometimes gone to a certain extent of losing our loved ones in one of the worst ways to lose loved ones(not that there really is a good way anyway).
They commit suicide.
But what happened? He was in medicine school,he was a promising camera guy-we even just shot a short film,she was a great fashionista(those who get away with matching polka dots,stripes,checked in one outfit),she was such a chatter box....But what happened?

Sometimes,the only emotion is pain,The feeling-is-hurt.
Talking and talking but never really getting heard
I try to keep my head above the water but under it I can feel something
The years keep passing by and it feels like am stuck in a damaged time machine
I am surrounded by my peeps but they never really see me,
The only emotion I relate to is pain,the feeling is hurt.

They keep saying to find inner strength but I have nothing,
When I am down and the figures above me are only moving forward
And as I grapple on the gravel,scarring my hands in the process,tryin' hold on to something,someone,
Pain is the only emotion and the feeling? The feeling is hurt

When I give all to a man and it is not enough
When I search inside me to give that which I do not have
When all I am left with are parts of me,
I am broken but nobody reads through the smile that does not quite reach my eyes,
Through the glimmer in my eyes that are tears threatening to come through anytime
I am screaming' Hallo!!!!!!!!" But all I get is my echo,
All I really feel is pain

And a new day is not welcome,it's not new to me,
It's just another scene in my script filled with lines of hurt,
I am right there,in the rain,sinking deeper and deeper in the mud but everyone is locked up in their houses safe and sound.
So,I pick up the blade and slit my wrists slowly,it has to be this way,the pain is the only emotion I got.

--------------------------------------------------Epilogoue
I am not asking to be dependent on anyone.All I am saying is when your outgoing girlfriend suddenly quits all social media sites,maybe it's a cry for help.When suicide becomes a fascinating topic with your actor-friend,maybe you should pay closer attention.Because sometimes when the only emotion these friends of ours start feeling is pain,it may be too late for both of you.

(Depression is real,it's important to understand the signs and offer help as far as we can.)

WHAT A YEAR!!!! WOOOOW!!!

2016- It came and is just about to leave.How was it? Nobody has asked me this question,they all want to wish me a prosperous ,happy 2017.So,like so many people,I would like to look back on a few issues that made 2016,the year it was,for me at least.

a) Personal Growth
This has been a very successful are for me.I have understood that I talk a lot and many times seek the services of my brain later.So,this year,I tried to engage my head on a few occasions because I discovered you cannot live like that forever.I was also able to deal with my short-temper but I did fall sometimes,only sometimes.Things have taught me that I am stronger than I have given myself credit for but that is a lesson I picked up this year.
I have began my lessons on finding happiness and 'completeness' in solitude.
I am grateful for the circumstances that shook my being for in them I became stronger.

b)Finances/Income
Haha,whaaaat finances? That is probably what my bank account would ask.This was very elusive this year.However,it was the year,I visited an investment institution and saved some money from some money I got here and there.
2016 was the year I discovered I had an entrepreneurial spirit:how did I sell clothes and soap to survive?
I am grateful for the times I didn't have any money,for then I appreciated the times I did.

c)Friends
I acquired new friends in the most unlikely places.Some are still around, some served their purpose and left.I discovered things I did not know about some of my friends and got to appreciate them in ways I have never done.
This was the year I mentally erased people in my life from the folder marked friends and filled that space with other names I consider worthy.
It was the year I discovered that money and friends is not the best concoction to use in the dish called life.
I am grateful for the ones who left because then I appreciated the ones who stayed.

d) Family
I spent a good amount of time with family and for the larger part it was filled with laughter.
I am greatful for the times we did not talk because then I appreciated the times we talked and laughed.

e)God
Isn't he great? Oh,I think I have interacted with his word more in this year than I have all my life.It has been such a revelation and  my oh my,what a journey it has been.
I am grateful for the good,the bad,the hard,the easy because of them I appreciated that all in all you are GOD.

f) Fun
Do you know I actually paid for a trip outside town.Me,who is always worried money will end.
There was indeed something about 2016.
I am grateful for the times I chose to watch life go by because now I appreciate the times I got into the party and had a little fun.

g)Men
Oh men!!!! You have disturbed me this year,tho!!!!! The ones who left, the ones who resurfaced from God knows where, the ones who never noticed,the ones who made entrances then left as abruptly as they got here.
Ah!
I am grateful for each of you creatures of God because you made me appreciate the woman-Gloria.You made me appreciate the One who was is on the way.But most importantly you made me appreciate just how special I am.

Lastly,to all of you who took time to read my pieces,to share my pieces,to correct grammatical errors,to comment,I am grateful,super grateful actually.
My message:
You need to understand that you are made in a special way and even though not everyone will appreciate you,appreciate those who do.
That,you can actually do that which you think you can,you can learn that which you don't know.
That,I will be praying for you.

Duly signed,
Grateful me-Gloria Tsuma Owichira
PS:Almost forgot-
How was 2016?