No, this is not about Valentine’s. Breathe out. I did not do my monthly preacher piece in January. For that reason, I will do two in February. This will be short and straight to the point.
Today I listened to the story of how Bata entered the African market.
I am full. I am tired. I am chatting a million people. Lol. Lie. I am chatting five people. One is hormonal. The other is still at work. The other is from shovelling snow. The other one is complaining of too much work. The other one is lamenting over unpaid work. Millennials. We have problems. I want to sleep. But I won’t until I do this.
The past few weeks have been pretty intense. I moved jobs thus I had to change my commute. I miss the glorious Waiyaki Way, full of splendour and roadworthy public service vehicles. I had never taken it for granted — the fact that the Waiyaki Way commute was awesome. But now I think I should have appreciated the matter a bit more. If you know me well enough, you know I was the girl who said she would rather not work away from Westlands. I would leave the house anywhere after 8 am and arrive right on time. Well, the universe has a funny way of making a point. I was thrown smack in the middle of Karen.
Right where it would be hardest to commute. But then again it was not the universe. I would have chosen to stick to Westlands just as simply but I made a choice. A choice to get out of my comfort zone. Here are eight things that January commuting has brought my way.
Hello people. I am sorry. I am sorry for not writing. We good? No? Okay, here is the thing. I should have written like four posts by the time January came to its middle. I didn’t. Why? 1. I am getting used to a lot of new things between my 9-5. They include matatus whose parts are held together by chomelea and God-knows-what. Those are like two whole blogposts for another day. Or three. Or four, depending on how sensational I am willing to get.
You know how people tell you they don’t want something but they do? Like how men think that a no from a lady means yes? Well, I was not going to do this. Mostly because he explicitly said I should not write about him. But I know deep inside, he expects I will write about it sooner or later.
Now You See Me – I began the year with this one specifically because everyone around me talked about it in 2013. Well, it wasn’t such a mind-blowing movie but it was something. That’s the thing about movies that everyone talks about. They are never that good.
Yesterday was my last day. My last day at the Office Park. My laptop had already closed for the holidays by early morning, freezing every one minute. And I am not exaggerating. I wrote the first part of this piece on my notebook.
“Ciku, nda yakwa ni iratuura,” she groans in the dark. Ciku, my stomach is aching.
It’s been a while since she woke me up in the middle of the night. I turn and grope around for my phone. 03:56. Jesus Christ. I was hoping to sleep for longer since it is a Saturday morning.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, I make random resolutions any day, any time. Around December last year, I decided to read better, read more. And that is exactly what I did. And change I did. Change I have done. It began with John Grisham, the only guy I could read even before then. Even then, I still had a pile of his books I was yet to finish. I had gathered them from my trips to Eldoret. I still have some I have never finished. I would buy these novels on my walk down Tom Mboya Street, headed to the North Rift Stage. Most of the time, I would just read the first few pages during the trip and forget about the book once I hit the Moi University compound. I was going to change that.
It’s December! It’s December! *Runs around screaming like crazy.*
Okay. Shiku is calm now. Why is she excited? December baby. She turns 25 on December 29th. 25!
What happens when you turn 25? Sounds like an age with lots of responsibilities and expectations. We’ll see how she handles that.
Sema kuchoka. Yesterday was a big day for mum and dad. 25 years down the line, they were at my cucu’s (mum’s mum) for ngurario or gutinia kiande. Relax, I will proceed to tell you what the ceremony involves and why I could not write about it yesterday. It is basically the last ceremony in the dowry paying process.
Someone said I should preach more on this blog. Maybe I should. I almost did not do my Saturday share but you know what, a promise is a debt, like we said when we were kids. So here goes. I have made it a habit to read Our Daily Bread (ODB) daily on my phone. I had sort of stopped doing it mostly because of misplaced priorities. I would read it daily in high school, after someone signed me up for it. I don’t know who but it must have someone in Christian Union right around my year in form one. I would read the day’s piece and fall right asleep while praying during morning prep. Lol. Yeah, I was that girl.
I wake up fully at 10:00. It is a Saturday and it is not my wedding day, so I do not see why I should have woken up earlier. Mum dropped by the room and left instructions before this. Someone had tried to wake me up with a text at 08:43 and I told him to try harder. Someone else tried waking me up with a call at 08:47. She laughed hard when she realized I was in bed. Do not call me before 10:00 on any Saturday from now on. Thanks. The only reason I get out of bed is because mum calls at 10:02 and asks if we are up (and that I am to water the cabbages in the garden since she has noticed they were dying lol). Also, Claire finally stirs in the other bed. I cannot let the eight-year-old roam the house alone.
I am so tired, but somehow I had to do this. October was just a few minutes past and I promised myself I would share lessons I have learnt from the month with you. It has been one interesting month.
The last thing I would ever do is belittle anyone’s profession, unless, of course, it involves vices like stealing or killing people. I have no idea, then, why someone thought I did so last week. It made me wonder why we are so vulnerable to the slightest whiff of criticism of our careers.