Guest Post By Wanjiru Maina
1. Prepare. Or don’t.
I woke up on Saturday 11th and went for a run. 10 kms. Just like that. No prior practice, no warm up. I got there, said hi to a few familiar faces, got into my branded T-shirt and took off! I was out of breath by the 12th minute. My chest was not tight though, as is sometimes the case, whenever I ambush it with a sprint or a run. (Hihihi) Yea, I sneak up on it some times… And it curls up tight in what feels like a foetal position, fighting for its survival, not caring about mine! Smh! But before I digress, carried away by angina, the condition’s official name, let me share the lesson:
Sometimes, prior planning is just not workable. Either by design or by the design of laziness. That notwithstanding, what needs to get done needs to get done. Get in there with both feet. Roll up your sleeves and get doing. You will pant, you will get stuck, you will want to quit, but you will have started, and that is the most important step. To begin.
Oh, and it will be hard, prepared or not. ( I am all for planning, don’t get me wrong, but “adulting” has taught me that planning is not always feasible, and sometimes, even the most well done plans fall apart.)
By Anonymous Imagine me, letting you and all that you mean to me go away. Disappear. Done. Finished. […]
Conversations start with either “Sasa wewe…” or “Nani…” Sometimes, the conversation starts with “I hope you have something important to tell me…”
The conversations can last a few seconds or even two hours or so.
But before I digress…
We all want to have the “kind, caring and understanding, soft-spoken, always there” kind of friend. You know the ones we keep in our colourful imaginary lists of must-have traits.
By Kizzy B
I am in my late twenties. Time is moving too fast but, my life… doldrums for lack of a better word is what I feel right now. You see, people are often comfortable with the saying: “Everything happens for the right reason, at the right time and maybe with the right person.” How challenging that statement is to me.
Before you judge me for rushing my life and feeling as though I don’t belong, let me tell you something.
“Our best boys go on to Alliance. In work, they do very well indeed, but in all the ways I care most about they do badly. They seem to me to become insufferably conceited, unctuously pious, selfish, slack at everything except books and examinations. Year by year, the best boys go; the rot sets in and they disintegrate. They lose all love of Maseno, which stands for different things” – Edward Carey Francis (while principal at Maseno)
Why is it such a big deal for some of us to keep track of the dates and times? Today, for instance, marks eight years since we finished the last paper in KCSE 2007. It was Computer Studies Paper 2 – Practical. It was about Afya Medical Centre’s hospital management system. Actually, you can view the archived question here.
By Joy Anindo
People who know me know I am a sucker for cartoons and animations. I will sit there and watch, giggle and even cry at some scenes. Because I’m cool like that.
There is this one animation that really got to me, Rise of the Guardians. The plot involves these immortal Guardians like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy who protect the children of the world from fear, darkness and despair. However, an evil boogeyman named Pitch Black (I know right? Total bad guy name.) plans to overthrow the Guardians by destroying the children’s belief in them. It’s falls to Jack Frost to help thwart Pitch’s plans and save the Guardians from destruction. The work of the Guardians is to protect the children from fear. Jack Frost is recruited into the group and he doesn’t understand why.
By Mukuiya Thiong’o
Growing up, my mother constantly reminded me to avoid peer pressure when I was in high school and campus. I sort of swam the tide and got an education, landed in various offices and finally settled. One thing that my mother never told me was that pressure grows more intense when you start working.
Two months into my job I got into serious problems, got into debt to finance a lifestyle I obviously couldn’t afford to match the top tier firm I worked in.
Lately, I have been having a severe case of PMS (or at least I thought it was). I have been moody and tired, always wanting to hug my bed when my alarm goes off in the morning. It has been taking the least amount of effort to get a “No” from me, yet I am the true definition of a “Yes Man” or girl in this case.
On this Friday, I have reached the “etc” point of my day. (You know that point where your system has shut down and all you can do is go online and snoop around other people’s lives.) I am a huge fan of Sharon Mundia and her blog “This is Ess”. She seems to always be in beautiful places, wearing beautiful outfits, looking absolutely beautiful. On one post she describes a meltdown she had recently and as I kept hitting the page down button on my keyboard, tears came flowing to my eyes. At that moment, I realised that I am going through exactly what she is, only perhaps in a different way.
Imagine that you are walking in town one Saturday afternoon. Either alone or with a friend in tow. Let’s assume the second option – you are strolling in town with a friend, W. You talk about the weather and how it’s been behaving. How the week was at work and at home. You talk about everything that you can possibly talk with your friend. Then, suddenly, in the middle of that you start feeling ill. At that moment you realize that there is something terribly wrong with your body and you cannot really figure it out. You assume and keep on talking. Suddenly your friend realizes there’s something terribly wrong, but they too are clueless. Things happen so fast that you start losing your sensory abilities – you cannot feel the spoon that’s in your hand and you fail to coordinate the digits on your hand but nothing. Before you know it, a sharp migraine fills your entire head causing you to slump on the table, weak and helpless.
By Nyanjui Ndung’u
One can say that gents and ladies are wired differently and some argue that one gender is better than the other. My take is purely on what perspective you bring into play as the genders seem to complement one another e.g. ladies tend to be more emotional about stuff whereas guys seem to be all macho and most have a tear limit theory that withdraws tears from a duct that is only filled once an year so the tears only flow when stakes are high. Okay, onion cutting is an exception but hey maybe that is the reason most guys avoid this because they would be indebted to the tear gods. I digress but oh well, I guess that is common for both genders to just take the ball and run with it every now and then.
As H_art the band say in their song “Uliza kiatu” which is Swahili for “ask my shoes”, the only piece of attire that knows where one has been is the shoe
By Dickson Otieno
I have written this for the longest time possible. In my mind. I didn’t know I was doing it. The pieces just came together. Slowly. One day at a time. Bringing together memories and thoughts from the past and from the present. Building up dreams of the future too. My brain has been full of activity. This story and that story. This thought and that thought. This memory and that memory. Fragments here and there. Piecing up together. Joining each other like Lego. Coming to birth.
By Miriam Jerotich
Four years ago, I lost my childhood friend. She was twenty. She wore a wedding dress to her funeral; a poignant reminder of one of her cherished dreams. I don’t remember what I wore on the night that I was told we had lost her. I don’t remember the day itself; what I ate, what I was, what I thought before I woke into her absence. I remember falling on my knees and crouching to my ankles. I remember the ache that began gnawing deep inside me, its manifestation in the way I scratched my legs till they bled, a vestigial habit that I would slip into when I did not get what I want, in this case, her healing.
You must be wondering why I would write this. I didn’t. Dickson Otieno did, just for my birthday. He made me chuckle and my eyes well up with tears. Like seriously, thank you Dickson. And thank you all for making my 25th birthday as big a deal as I thought it would be. I will stop now, before I cry. 25-year-olds don’t cry all the time, do they? Here goes.
There are exactly 14 days to the end of this year. This will be the first time I will be truly reflecting on the happenings of the year. The last 351 days have taken me through paths and thickets I have never trodden before. I thought it would be good to share some of them with you. Even though some of the may seem too trivial for life, they have undoubtedly reshaped my life, thoughts and the direction that my life has taken.
By Dickson Otieno
If I were an old man, I’d be termed as old-fashioned. A man who’s time is over. A guy of the ending generation. My words would be trashed in some quarters and the ‘young’ would make merry in letting me know that the new cohort does things differently. That in the new era it is the gospel ‘industry’ that thrives. And that we should let anyone thrive in doing whatever they please. As long as they insert the name Jesus in whatever composition they make, then it qualifies to be a gospel song. Try and read this to the very end.