Tormented, as a Kenyan.

The lecturer terminated the class in a euphoric mood. It was on a Friday late evening where we all gladly left for home from class as others quenched their throats on the so-called members day. I walked briskly to the bus stage, on my way, I  bought myself the 130 kenya shillings ugali, fish and sukuma. That was so expensive I would think yet the cheapest from the menu, gobbled it down greedily, like I had not eaten for that whole week. I got myself a matatu and sat on one of the front seats. It was as old as the matatu age. You would hear metal sound as it moved. It was not that I could not get myself into a cozy one, but the fact that the matatu conductor offered me a fifteen-shilling discount  boosted it all. That would buy me a mosquito coil and a packet of tea leaves for the next day. Off we went, with some slight taste of reggae music that kept passengers entertained and could quite forget about the status of the matatu. I enjoyed it too, why lie?

As we were close to the roadblock where the police would check for passenger excesses, insurance stickers and if the driver had a license, I heard the two (driver and the conductor) conversing in vernacular.

  "Wekelea hio pesa."
  "Niko na soo leta finje tupeane!"

So the driver gave the conductor a fifty shilling note which was to be handed over to the police. This was confusing, there was no excess, there was an empty seat infact. The drivers license lied on the dashboard and the insurance sticker was as new and as blue like it was just kept. We were still in a queue of other matatus going through the same. I found this hectic and tiresome. The most we all wanted was to get home after a very long day. Our turn came, the tipsy police came over with his torch, never bothered to inspect on what the roadblock was kept for. Took the conductor down. I didnt figure out what they tried to talk about all I heard was.."..afande asante!" As he gave him the fifty shillings note. I couldnt explain my feeling. Could be confusion, disgust or also anger. I couldnt stop myself from asking why they had to pay yet all was right and set.

"Nchi ni yao na viongozi, common mwananchi nitaumia kila siku." The desperate driver replied in a very low tone, signaling fear just in case anyone might hear him. This was just sad. This was the end of a great nation. As we were discussing on such, one illiterate, ugly old crone who has never stepped in a secular class nor does she know what goes on in her country shouted at the top of her voice.

"Amani kama hii nchini Kenya, we wouldnt ask for more, let Burundi burn themselves to ashes."

I found that irrelevant, like would you miss a thing to say. Am personally proud of Burundi citizens, doing what is patriotic for them to do. Such greedy African leaders must be rooted out of power. Our nations are nothing but dictatorial regimes dressed up in "democracy". Yes, democracy must be in quotes. It will remain desirable in Africa, moreso in Kenya for as long as dictators remain in power. Yet to her that is peace (amani). She's damned if thats what she knows. Poor her!

The common mwananchi cries alot, yet he owns the nation. Crying in your own home? Even inhuman wouldnt describe it best. Large chunks of tax are cut off from our salaries. The Pay As You Earn 30% tax cut is too much. Where does all this money go to? It has reached an extent we also got to pay in roadblocks for a simple matatu check. Am not proud. Never been, and if I get proud, all my endless problems must have been done away with. All is costly, nothing favours the poor. No aid from the government. At once I wished I was a Burundi Citizen, asmuch as they may be protesting for the presidents step down, most of their protests are about the bad governance. They wouldnt just say it, but would anyone root a good leader out?

I remember a time when I assisted a friend with her 6 months baby to one of the government hospitals in the Coast, it was critically ill. As we called on the nurses each seemed busy chatting and giggling. They said the doctor had not arrived. The worry that was on my friends face would clearly be noticed. She would repeatedly say...."If I would have been paid in time, I would have gone to a private hospital."
She was a teacher in one of the government secondary schools and had not been paid for six months in a row. The rude nurses would laugh at her each time she asked if the doctor was coming over.

"Hehehehe madam! You cant wait? We told you he'll be here. Kua mpole!" And she would slam the door.

Each time I looked at the toddler, goosebumps ran all over my body, but I tried to keep strong. It was all weak. Its lower lip shaking so fast as it wheezed, craving for air. Its temperature was very high. There was no hope! We still tried to be patient. A lady close to us offered us breakfast. We could not eat. Things were getting worse. The baby shivered continously. My heart was in my mouth. God help us! It grew cold, the shaking lip stopped and it felt slightly heavier. It was gone. Life slipped out of her mouth like it was some other thing. Sad, isnt it? The mother still calling out the babies name. That was when the nurses rushed it in. To our knowledge the doctor was in the office the whole time. This was just sad. I couldnt do anything. I felt useless. I felt weak. The feeling one gets when you lose it all. Am not Kenyan. If this is being Kenyan then I'd call myself a refugee. In my own dead country. It doesnt live in my eyes. It never did. Maybe it should have lived during the independent stage just after the whites were driven away. Those were leaders. The leaders we see in books. Its like they never existed in real life.

The government has failed us, they all have. None has been of good. Loans are incurred from outside, we get grants and the taxpayers money. Where does all this go to? To fill up bellies while we cry in agony over no water, we always in  blackout, poor health facilities, the free education which is not free at all if even one pays for exam fee. The list is endless. The budget is read yet a very unrealistic kind of budget. Large chunks of money allocated to small projects which are also unfulfilled.

The anguish I get as a Kenyan cannot be explained. I feel it even from the one shilling value added tax I pay from the shop. Sovereignty lies on the people, but we have lost it, indeed we have. If there is a messiah that will save us from all this, may he come! This hopeless state needs him the most. Dictators dont have to be Hitler, assess our leaders, worse than Hitler can be seen in them. They just hold and play the humble card. Sycophants shout and their work is done. Gets a second term in office by force and history repeats itself. Lest we get careful and our eyes open up to the truth, we will forever be refugees in our own country.

MOMBASA

The rare city, with rare vibes and peculiar people with endless generosity, utmost openness and lovely company. Second largest city in Mother Kenya and one of the entire best in Africa. From its M landmark of ivories denoting Mombasa, It preserves heritage. The heart of Mombasa. Beside is a cool, well taken care of kind of garden where all relax on the cement benches, being kept company by the melodious birds and the fine wind, not forgeting the grand TSS mosque close to it, not only is it a place of worship but beautifies the place too. The muadhini that calls people to prayer blending it all up during the late evening prayer that dusk has started on a whole great level. Top of it all, the beautiful sunset as viewed from one of the most tallest buildings around. So beautiful. The tall buildings that give it a city look,very well arranged, world class type of architects we got here. The clean tarmacked roads, well priced supermarkets and friendly street vendors selling cashew nuts, simsim treats to both local and international tourists  giving them the Coast taste type of snacks.The cuisine is of its own kind, Mombasa food, best one would ever wish for, most in coconut paste cooked with kind love and expertise.The Post Office, though almost functionless never misses people to assist you with your posting on those rare seasons when nothing but posting a card and a gift satisfies it all. Behind is a chain of snack shops, mobile phone service shops, small scale hotels and chemists too, a business kind of place. Then I wonder, on some baseless stereotype, that people from Coast are lazy? Have you all seen this? Still on the street down to the magnificent fort, Fort Jesus which explains the pre colonial era and portugese invasion in the country. They were defeated finally by the Omani Arabs which took over the fort and conquered Mombasa with trade, lived with the people around, inter married and also brought a culture blend to those who lived around. How blessed Mombasa is. The portugese didnt just come for war, but brought good too, in terms of material benefit and other benefits such as enriching the Kiswahili language too. Such words as mvinyo in Kiswahili were borrowed from the Portugese. The cannons outside the fort look so good to the eye now that they are used as tourist attraction. From the fort, is the mighty old town, its never changed, still the same since colonial era. Some slight infrastructure here and there to give it some modern look but it still looks as splendid as it was in the old golden days. The well carved and decorated doors. The small spaces between houses and the strong knit type of neighbourhood. Only found in Mombasa, where else? Through from the old town you get to the market. Some other type of business takes place here. All working to their last sweat of the day to make their daily bread a success. Wholesale shops which sell on very great and awesome deals. Friendly shopkeepers. Further in the big market there is also a cloth market. Fair prices are found here. Most swahili shops are around the market area. With the smell of oud attracting all kind of customers in their shops. Further are the magnificent jewellery shops, people here are royals, they wear nothing but gold. Not only the normal kind of gold but well refined type of gold, for any kind of occassion, the gold here stands among all. From the market, the tuktuk ferries you off to mama ngina drive. Its not a park neither is it a forest but an open kind of relaxing place for all. As free as Mombasa is, not money oriented, anyone is free to walk in and out of the place anytime of the day. Not forgetting those who sell kachiri and madafu to quench your thirst after a long day, while watching the ship sail around the small lighthouses that guide the talented captains from the famous nautics college still in Mombasa. The ferry is another, with precision ferrying passengers to and fro the town to the south part of Mombasa, where world class hotels are a major attraction. The sandy beaches, the likes of shelly. The north part is not to be forgotten, from Bamburi all the way to the most humble correctionals around. Bombolulu famously known for its culture practise and carpentars who know it best.
Haller Park, natures best, to see what nature offers and protection of wild animals. The large forest from haller park all the way to the other forest, Butterfly Pavilion. Nature trail cant be as any better as this. Behind is the grand of grand firms in Kenya, The Bamburi Cement, in a very quiet and eco friendly environment. Lafarge ecosystems. To the North Coast, the public beach, for anyone, everyone. More from the sandy beach hotels, Whitesands, Bamburi beach and many many more, not forgetting Serena with its unique kind of sauna and my personal best Flamingo beach hotel. The diversity in the county is worth noting, different types of religion evident by religious places of worship, the big churches and crusades, the mosques, the beautiful temples and a synagogue. The tribes around, it is never based on one tribe, all are represented in Mombasa. The education level and schooling is also worth a note. All from Primary to secondary schools with spectacular results and campuses that have been on the rise in towns. On the shopping, the luxurious 21st Century City Mall and an important hanging point for friends, for a chit chat and coffee, the kids area on weekends. The mamba village, worlds most finest crocodiles and a lunar park for kids too. A priviledge being around. The annual cultural show in Mombasa is a never miss, all is show cased from cultures, cuisines, arts, competition and our heritage. Thanks to the county government. Mombasa, a county never to miss in a life's visit, all thats unique to the eye and all that pleases the heart. The fair prices, good hospitality and the serene environment that favours all.

THE BEST OF LOVE

If you arent feeling the love in what you are doing, you wouldnt create what you want. Shift gears, find a new beat and dance with it thats where the magic happens. The best love is from what we do, what we get from what we do and the appreciation that people give out of the love you spread. Never get tired in doing what is best. Thats the initial form of inspiration to the world and to yourself. Not everyone will approve or acknowledge what you do, critics are there, its upon us to take the criticisms as energy that ought to steer us forward in getting things done. Strange? that you can get through successfully with people's negativity. You are the frost to your cupcake. Every life has a purpose. We need to go off the past. Live in the present. Do not waste your time today worrying about what will happen tommorrow. Embrace your true spirit, embrace and listen to grace and you be transformed in the moment. Do not fixate on what you want but give thanks to what you have. Thats love. Love that gives you a reason to step out of bed, sing in the shower, eat like its your last meal irrespective of where its served and beautifully walk out of the house heads high on the daily mission on what you do best. It does not matter the wage you earn compared to the work you do as long as you enjoy what you do, thats the best of love. Whatever life gives you or life gets you at, do it best, a friend who is also one of the countries best toilet cleaner gets her inspiration from scrapping maggots off the corners of the washrooms, she works tirelessly like the maggots themselves, that asmuch as she tries pouring the most dangerous detergents and acids on them, they'll still find another place to breed on. They never get tired of being moved out. Someone gets inspired by maggots, the pettiest of insects do it best, this should be the eighth wonder of the world If am to say. All is well when its positive, in all you do, do it best, like you will never get a chance to do it again.  Its not promised we will live forever. The little time we have is a cruise round the daily routine, make a one time moment and have unending memories out of the peculiar smalls. Be kind, astonish the mean world with your acts of kindness. Continue to allow humour to lighten the burden of your tender heart. You will never go wrong.

THE BEST IN US.

I am a candle that lights up at my brightest. But slowly you see me melt, you see me die, but you dont put the fire off. You let me burn because you thought it was beautiful..to watch me die. And I might have gone, the lone candle that was left melt in awe. It was probably my best shot as the only sweet smelling and bright candle in the market. You not only remembered me in darkness but also burnt me down. Am gone..gone forever. Probably you will get the same but not with the same finish. I was wonderfully made. And glowed with success till the last glow. I illuminated the room like a sharp idea in a geniuses mind. Geniuses who make it high up in life. Not necessarily through their secular success but experiences and also self belief. Not everyone stepped in an educational set up but they did superbly well in their lives. Life experiences and trials educate us much...more than the tycoons kids who get dropped each glorious morning from their benzes to world class schools. Apart from the books that teach them history and the current world, they actually dont know how the world is out there...how angels can be beasts and beasts as angels..it all depends on how you define the two anyway. The small girl on the street close to the sewage smelling gutter selling plantains knows more than a teenage young man in his late twenties. She atleast appreciates that from the money she gets she toils and attends afternoon classes..nice blend I would think. As lucky as she is, she already knows what life is all about and still emerges best in class. The teachers and trainers never associated themselves with her..what would they get from her and her parents anyway. Bitter, isnt it? Not to my surprise she performs best in her finals and all leading firms are on their toes with their bestdeal scholarships. Her future is made. She is the type who will actually build orphanages and training centres at an affordable fee for everyone in the society. Her experiences must have taught her alot. While the benz young man thinks of getting a silver ring for her temporary young girlfriend, she creates projects and initiatives for fellow youth. She is the type our society needs. Some people are just misinformed, they watch American hiphop, movies, songs and dances and before we know it they start sagging pants, daydreaming and acting like one. They forget that the American you saw is not a real American. The real American boy and girl works day and night to make sure America remains the superpower. Yet you there yapping about premier league, political sides and tribal sides. Really??? Thats the much we can do to build our society. Our fathers failed us..why not us? Its high time we all wake up to reality. Its not about your individual self, at the end of the day your society still stands a chance. We are all same..our thinking and attitude towards life should not differentiate us. Change starts with us. The countrys success starts from individuals success. Leave a legacy that you will be remembered for. We cannot all get nobels but we can still award them to ourselves, that at last you did something worth the sweat. Its not too late..though the school structure helps alot but our socialization is key to our transformation. Like a smile, best of characters are an epidemic and bad ones too..Make the best out of the choices you make!

PUSHING AN EXTRA MILE

Life will get much better when you stop caring about what everyone thinks, and start to actually living for yourself. Its on the realization that we all for ourselves. Maybe the care at some point in time but its not worthwhile. I believe in self worth, self trust and self motivation. I am the boss of me. I abort a mission when I dont find good in it. I take something on a serious stand when it actually got benefits on me. Thats ME! Its never an easy road pushing through influential peers and friends and at times relatives. I feel good in myself. I feel Queenish. Too good I dont have a twin. Its awesome living by yourself. No man is an island....I agree but to what extent will you live by that..Make your own metropolis out of the small that you have. I like people with big dreams. They atleast know how life would take them upto. A good friend once thought of having a cruise round the world, being the best gynecologist around and also cook a meal that would be her inspiration to the world. I like her. Life might be crude and cruel..so true but it doesnt mean the storms we go through should hit us down or rip us into pieces, rather, get stronger and refurbished. She also thinks of herself as the best daughter her parents ever had. Everyone thinks they are best..but to what extent are your thoughts taking you? When she has a cup of tea..black tea I mean..she thinks..that as much as she has big plans for her future what if she doesnt make it. What if the angel of death takes her soul in eternal peace..but in that, she also thinks of the good. What if she goes to Jannah? So she puts happiness in its place. Though there have been challenges in her life as old as she is, she got out of them with alot of strength. The strength to face them and the strength to actually say that Alas! That was an icebergs tip. Yet it could take the rest of us so down n low. I like it when she was my personal inspiration. Do everything as you are doing it last. Dance to the tunes as the music ends. The melody will live forever. Unique she is not only by her name but her face and character. "Emulataeble"....

It was TRAGIC

It was tragic

Summer holiday was over and we had to report back to school for a new and good to be semester. Sad I had to leave loved ones at home to go study and come back proud. I had passed in the previous assessments and exams too. That overwhelmed me. I left for school and bid all my good friends goodbye. School was nice..I liked the freedom in it.It wasn't like highschool where we had nosy teachers looking after all we do and all we were upto. You could bunk class here, sleep all day, eat what you like, dress how you wanted-nice life I would always think. I started well though but got myself in a peer gang. All weekends were like holidays. We would explore the whole country travel far and wide and socialising was the key thing. Days passed..months to be precise. I never cared about my class attendance neither upcoming assessments nor exams. Each night was a Friday. All club attendants knew us. We were regular visitors. I was a first year but all my friends were in third year. I was the youngest in the group. That didn't matter though..'We were all youth'..I'd convince myself. We would drink bottles down. No one kept limits. I got weaker and weaker everyday. I would sleep all day and spree all night. A time came when I wouldn't even call home. My loving mother would call. I sounded so cheerful and that studies were good. Little did I know that I was lying to myself. She already had her life anyway. She was my role model as my beast of a father left me when I was a toddler, I don't know him and I don't want to. Life can be so mean. I would feel guilty for doing the unexpected but I never changed. I would change but not for the better and change is not change if its not for some good. It was on eighth February. My nineteenth birthday. Last teen year, it had to be the best. My friends told me.
Wishes were everywhere on social media. I was on cloud nine. Having the most handsome boy around campus and all wishes was any birthday girl of my age would wish for. Night fell as fast. The City Bar was the club we regularly visited. It had classy men and porschy cars were all we could see. 'I like this life!' I exclaimed. There we were.Dancing our hearts out. No one cares after all. Fun we had. I drank alot. Takilla, martini, red wine..name it! Off I was. I don't remember what happened I just got myself played as toy between boys. They threw me in circles. I couldn't figure out what they were trying to do.My eyes got vague. And all I could remember was being carried to an empty room that I thought was my hostel cube. I woke up at around noon. Gosh! I was in my birth suit in the middle of the club dance floor and some yellow marks imprinted on my body. It looked abandoned. I felt pain as I got up to find help. Hot tears rolled down my rosy cheeks. I was in pain. My makeup was all messed up and my hair too. As I got up two men dressed in casual wear plus a lady in her mid twenties came from the bar counter till. I was raped! They were a special unit that dealt with rape cases. I had a stream of consciousness. I shivered and cried in deep pain. They made me write a statement but little did I know my story was in newspapers already. I almost got a brain hang. All I saw was mama's innocent face smiling. I had messed myself up. It took quite a while to realise.The lady examined me and was taken to hospital. As I charged my cell phone and called mom, my small sister picked it crying her heart out that mom saw the news page and got a hypertension stroke. They were with no one at home and that mother's boss got bankrupt no one could pay for the hospital bills and they had no meals. 'Why did you do this sister?' She asked desperately. I blamed myself for everything. 'I wish I knew'.. was my theme. I would say that repeatedly to myself. I had loud thoughts. Thoughts which were meaningless. They couldn't bore a fruit now. All was done. I was spoilt that I could never imagine. My boyfriend betrayed me and so did his friends. Life was unbearable now. I forgot there was a supreme God..and these were consequences! Two weeks had passed..I didn't get any better. Abdominal pains and cramps pained me hard. I decided to go to the university hospital for tests. I contracted gonorrhoea. I lost hope with life. Mom was still in stroke. My sister was taken by a family member. 'I would not go back home, I couldn't face mom.' I had mixed thoughts. Endless thoughts that had no fruits. As I crossed the road back to the school hostels. Without minding any cars. I got hit hard and thrown to the gutter.. a roadway gutter..My knee pained hard. I was taken to hospital and it could not get back to position. Walking was a wish now. I had all these yet I misused them.i would talk to myself, cry round the clock, I had simply lost hope. My best friend claimed I was losing my mind. She was also against me! When in the dark..your own shadow leaves you. Without thought the sisters took me to a mental asylum where I received 'mental' treatment. I was traumatised but never lost my head. I pretended to have lost it as I had no home. I lived with mental retards. They would not harm me. Everyone minded their own business here. Its my fifth year now and I still remember the events like the other evening. I hated my birthday for the two reasons. I would watch college students go to school and back. My time was wasted. I didn't know about home. I was a 'mental retard' no one bothered giving me a phone. But I pray for their wellbeing. That was my fee to my guilt.