In about 100 years or so, my descendants and those of my brothers and sisters might not know each other. There’s a small chance they could, if they all live around the same area but I think they will be living their separate lives in different parts of Kenya and probably the world. If we are lucky, they might know us. I say all this because as of now, I know very few descendants of my grandparent’s siblings. Where are they? What do they do? What do they look like? I don’t know.
But something happened during the last holidays and it gave me and my siblings an opportunity to know some of them. Our grandma (dad’s mum) has always lived with us. When I was born, Continue reading From Kenya to Uganda, the holidays that redefined my heritage
On December 1st 2021, I met a guy I have known for a few months. I asked him about a project he was working on that he had mentioned to me a few months earlier. He had no response. To put it better, he didn’t want to talk about it. The project was one of his many fails of 2021. He was just glad that it was December which means that the year is finally coming to an end. “I just want this year to end, everything I have tried to do this year has failed. I have never experienced a worser year like this,” he said, shaking his head as he thought of how his goals for the year were ruled out by a callous and invisible referee.
Continue reading Twenty twenty one
When you ask those born in the 80s what parenting means to them, it will include a whole lot of discipline and strict house rules. My experience wasn’t different. My mum was one strict lady although she has loosened up a bit over the years.
Listening to other stories, especially from military homes, I have come to understand that my discipline journey in the hands of my mother is nothing compared to what others have gone through. I am talking about being wound in a potato sack and beaten like a piñata. Some are hilarious, others left children with lifelong scars – physically and emotionally.
Continue reading The age of idolizing children and why it is bound to fail
Do you believe in destiny? Do you believe that you were supposed to do a particular thing in life and without it your life won’t be complete? That’s a question that always leaves us pondering whether we are on the right track in life. You haven’t really lived if you haven’t questioned your purpose on God’s blue circle we call home.
But earth is hard, Kenya is harder and Nairobi is said to be hardest, especially when you don’t get a sound foundation and support system as a child. Your dreams and what you call purpose can be derailed to a desolate destination. You get lost in a multitude of people, your screams for help deafened by the collective despair of society.
Continue reading Blackman
Violence is synonymous with elections in Kenya. There hasn’t been an election in the recent past where tensions didn’t simmer, boil over and eventually lead to deaths, including those of innocent children. The violence is of varied forms; hired goons by politicians, sore losers, criminals taking advantage of the mayhem and police using excessive force, firing stray bullets and killing innocent people.
It’s distasteful to the point that people temporarily relocate during elections. People go to their rural areas in fear that their neighbors of the other tribe could turn against them because of their competing candidates. Those who are privileged move their families out of the country for that period.
Continue reading Is it possible to have peaceful elections in Kenya?
Sometime in 2019, Pitson called an Uber to pick him up at Karura Community Chapel. When the uber driver arrived, he was surprised to find that he was picking a young man and not a mzee. That’s because Pitson had sounded like old man on the phone, his voice raspy and hoarse like that of Mzee Moi in retirement.
Continue reading Pitson – On life in the Valley, Gospel Music and Songwriting
The maternity ward in any hospital is like an active war zone. Newborn babies with their cries are like bullets flying all over the place. Nurses are the rescue crew, doing their best to get those injured to safety. Doctors are the generals, giving instructions and strategies but not getting too involved, unless very necessary. Mothers, they are the bombs, going off involuntarily all over the ward with every response to a contraction.
Continue reading Not Urgent, but Very Important
A few years ago, a plane took off from Juba with three planned stops in different parts of South Sudan. On arrival at the first location, the grass was too long on the airstrip and the pilot could not land. People were actually cutting the grass. He decided to go to the next airstrip and it was flooded because of heavy rains that had earlier pounded the area. They could not land. Looking at his calculations, the pilot realized that there was too much weight on board to reach the third airstrip.
Continue reading Mission Aviation Fellowship’s unique contribution to the great commission
You can read part 1 of this story here
While living the life in Mombasa, Wanjohi got sick. He had measles, but it was first misdiagnosed as malaria at an estate dispensary. He hadn’t been vaccinated against measles as a child and as an adult, it got him proper. He was sick, so sick that he couldn’t move or do anything for himself. Being alone in the house made it worse. He was dying. It’s the neighbors who took him to hospital after noticing unusual quietness in his house and the fact that he hadn’t been out, or brought any girls into the house.
Continue reading The Trials and Tribulations of Wanjohi part II
“What have you come here to do?” asked Wanjohi’s mother, astounded that her son was standing right in front of her.
“I have come to visit my mum,” he answered. “You don’t come to visit us in ushago so I decided to come myself.”
“Who have you come with?”
Continue reading The Trials and Tribulations of Wanjohi part I