stil figuring it out, (part two)

...As he held my hand and unashamadely poured out his heart rthrough his tears with his head bent on my knees, I knew we were meant to be.I finally felt what I had been looking for. What I have needed to feel through the past three relationships that I had had.

As I stroked his head since thtat was the only way i new to take away his pain, I recalled our first encounter.I was walking home. I usually walk  that long stretch home for only two reasons; I was either broke and could not afford the fare home or I needed to think. On this particular Sunday afternoon, well, it was both. Theen, from nowhere, a man walks across the road to say hello and includes in his unwelcome pleasantries a previous meeting we had which for the life of me, I could not recall. Not that I tried anyway.He keeps talking on and on and since i am not known for my subtilty, I bluntly ask him to conclude the conversation since I needed to go home and sleep.

To cut the tale short, I eneded up writing his number on a piece of paper and stuffed it somewhere in my bag. he told me that if I called, then we would talk and hang. his way of distinguishing himself from the other men who call the lady a million times after insisting on having their contacts. His was a different style he said.

Incase my stuffing of the paper somewhere in my bag is not indication enough that I was not going to call him, I have news, I did not call-immediately. I was in a lovng relationship heading to the altar and I had read in some book that cheating also included emotions.So, I did not want to cheat on my man which meant not starting relationships whose future I did not know with men especially.

Well, life is life. When my man suddenly decided that I was not enough and that he needed a woamn of his stature, one with a real proffessssion- I am an actor you see(ofcourse pun intended)-, I did locate that piece of paper and bluntly accepted his offer to hang....

Still figuring it out...(part one)

I knew this would destroy him,I prayed and prayed that God would heal his mother.
His name is Pontifah and I am in love with him. He is not a typically boyfriend for a church girl like me but I love him nevertheless. I have never seen him so vulnerable as he is now.I look at him kneeling by his mothers bedside and he is so vulnerable and I pray that this will not take him a step back in his young walk with God.So,I keep praying.
Then,it happens. His mother died holding his hand. I hugged him and in between our silent sobs ,I knew it.
I knew that I had to be there for him.That he needed me...

Love is ....

It is a beautiful thing this thing we call love. It forms relationships and breaks them in a way. In some way,it is wrong to say love breaks but then again people understand this emotion quite differently.
I am in a matatu.... My colleague and I are heading home after a hard days work,production is really hardworking. Then,at Githurai,a commotion suddenly ensues,this conductor is at it again. Many of you already know how some of these conductors on our roads have the uncanny ability to change the fare amount once inside the vehicle. This was such a case but the lady was not even close to entertaining nonsense.so,as the small man-the conductor is busy demanding that they alight or pay up,she stays put.
By this time,she and the conductor are now engaged in a heated back and forth.
It turns out that this very assertive and loud lady has a male travelling companion who discreetly nudges her as a sign that they alight. Nope! Not this time bro.
She stubbornly insists that they are not going anywhere and they are not adding more money.
Anyway, the man soon alights and leaves the lady/woman still ranting.
By this time I am so proud of the woman.

She must have forgotten her own key,or she did not know where they were going because 20 metres ahead,she alighted too.Total anti-climax I must say.
The two of them, by the way,ended up not taking the money they were being offered by the small conductor and adding more cash to reach their destination am sure.
That is the end of my story, however,in the spirit of love; (I assumed they were a couple),shouldn't the man have stood up to this logical thinking woman? And also, maybe the woman should have alighted when asked very politely I must add by the man?
Love is patient,love is understanding...

GLORIA TSUMA OWICHIRA: Toa uniform wewe!!!

GLORIA TSUMA OWICHIRA: Toa uniform wewe!!!: A few years back while in high school,a few of my classmates after returning from a successful outing in coast returned to face charges of a...

GLORIA TSUMA OWICHIRA: Toa uniform wewe!!!

GLORIA TSUMA OWICHIRA: Toa uniform wewe!!!: A few years back while in high school,a few of my classmates after returning from a successful outing in coast returned to face charges of a...

Toa uniform wewe!!!

A few years back while in high school,a few of my classmates after returning from a successful outing in coast returned to face charges of a planned exercise of painting Mombasa red.
The thought crossed my mind as I traversed  the streets of Nairobi this morning. I began to momentarily question the saying-if it walks and talks like a duck,then its a duck. Although, I believe that the problem originates from what the definition of a duck is.
These particular group of Kenyans looked like they were on an unholy pilgrimage having been released from a maximum confinement facility.
Were they so dis attached from the real world that they forgot untucked blouses no longer looked cool. Seriously, hopping from one city establishment to another clad in school uniform just portrays the dwindlingvlevel of style you posses.
Boys and girls,in 2016,combining your school uniform with funny hairstyles, cheap bandas and jewellery is wrong.
Heckling and using worn out sheng across the street disturbs us hardworking citizens and robs us our peace. It is worse when done in school uniform.
Your attire does nothing for you, you are a bother and should go home and at least change.then you may sneak and join other misguided individuals on the definition of 'cool and 'fun'.
Is that not the first lesson you learnt,when you first joined school?
"Toa  uniform!".

THERE IS NO OTHR WAY TO SAY IT, REALLY.

This is a topic I appreciate plagues a considerable number of women especially those who are just through form four and through first year to college.
I am just going to dive straight into what I am compelled to say. some are from my own experience and some from friends experiences and some well, common sense.
ladies, girls when you get pregnant prematurely, it seems like its the end of life but it is not. its the beginning of a journey that you have to find the strength to embark.
Pregnancy is not a guarantee of love, or commitment. please, understand that.
Pregnancy is not a license to make horrible decisions for your life. You can still pick yourself up, dust yourself and move on.
Your child's sperm donor is not the only man remaining in this world, there is a man out there who loves you just as you are. baby and all- give him a chance.
Not all men are your child sperm donor, good men still exist.
when you get pregnant, don't make the decision to run away for the man, talk it over with your partner before making a decision. As rarely celebrated as they are, there are some men who take their responsibilities quite seriously.
There is always help, take it.
As many times as you fail, pick yourself up.
Abuse is not love- small girls move on.
harsh- if you come to my place to seek assylum from a sorry excuse of a man, and then take my advice and shove it down the drain plus all the help I have given you and still make the choice to leave and return to your hell: thats stupid. And be prepeared to face your hell, only leave when you are sure you are out.
There is no other way to say this.