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.
Category: <span>Kenya</span>
Do young people know the ABCs of Money Management?
High school students are studying up on geography, chemistry and history, but most aren’t learning fundamental money lessons to help them financially navigate the real world.
Parental involvement
When I am not listening to VeggieTales and other silly songs, I am usually reading the Onion, America’s Finest News Source. One recent article on the Onion, (it’s a satire publication) was about a teacher by the name Jon Broderick who has been reaching out to promising kids that just need a little guidance since 1996, and to be honest, none of them has really blossomed into anything. Quoting the teacher, the Onion says that “Every year, I tell myself I’m going to be the reason a struggling teenager excels beyond all expectation, and every goddamn year, I’m wrong.”
Every week I come across something that leaves my heart broken, partly because it touches on an area I am passionate about, and partly because there is so much that could have been done about it. This week it was about the sentencing of a nurse in Gachie to death. The man was accused of the murder of a lady and her baby as he tried to assist in abortion. Here’s a link to the article and this of the wife who now must be widowed and left to take care of a little baby. The lady who died in the process of abortion also left one other child who now will never see the mother again. We all have a rough idea of how that orphan will grow up. Right there, we have a child who will grow up without a Father, and one who is an orphan.
We are on a weekend. Last night and today night, most Christians will be indoors at home, mostly with their families, and quite a good number alone. Their non Christian friends will mostly be out in a club or a function or basically out exploring, way into the wee hours of the night.
The good Christian family man or woman goes home early over weekdays as well. They bring up their children with a strong discipline to be home by six in the evening. The night is dark, and bad things happen in the dark.
I am not an early bird. I am a night owl.
You know advertising is powerful when you walk into the ladies and hope there is tissue paper and then when you see it, you think, “Tissue si tissue, tissue ni Hanan.” Epic fail. I hate that advert. Nevertheless it is engrained in my head. In fact, come to think of it, if I was responsible for buying tissue in the house, I’d actually try it out. I will try you out when I move out, Hanan. You can go ahead and thank that guy. What’s his name again? I know it’s not Otoyo. Wait. Think, Shiku, think. Colourful clothes. Luo accent. I give up.
Anyway, who goes into a public facility and makes away with an entire roll of tissue paper?
The cover of The Economist this week is titled “That Sinking Feeling (Again)”. The article on the European Union notes that the collective GDP in the Euro Zone stagnated in the second quarter: Italy fell back into outright recession, French GDP was flat and even mighty Germany saw an unexpectedly large fall in output. Inflation has been falling steadily, and this August registered lowest in 5 years at 0.3%. Europe may be headed for deflation.
I am back with some more Kikuyu songs/rhymes from my childhood years. I noticed lots of you loved them and keep searching. Seriously, that was the life. I made mum and dad sing them and they did, joyfully, to the amusement of my baby bro and sis who have never heard most of them before. Needless to say, I had forgotten some words. I am old, people. You should see the white hairs on my head.
What can we say about the devices that enable us write? Can they write a story of their own? These are the questions that plagued my 10 year old mind. It was the year 2000. In class 5.
I was in a day primary school where, I presume like in many other schools, progressing in class meant progress in one facet that is king in the world of learning. The white missionaries who harboured selfish and ulterior motives under the guise of spreading the gospel outright proclaimed the 3R’s: Reading, wRiting and Rithmetic. I’m talking about writing. If writing is king, then reading is queen. And rithmetic is the king’s side-dish. Sorry for that inappropriate TMI.
I can’t remember the day I first wrote anything. However, I have parents who filed every exercise book and school report from 1994.
Early this year I met a lady. A totally random lady. She made me get in touch with the scarce, yet crucial element of simply being human. Are you, or have you met those people who forget that everyone else is human? This city is full of such. This one was and is an exception.
Inhaling the air of Nairobi infuses its dwellers and residents alike with insensitivity to others. Whether the person in need is a friend or a stranger. That had been my notion all along. Until this day when this lady did something I’m yet to hear of.
So you think weaves are bad? So you sat there typing up yet another article to ruffle feathers for traffic? You sat there while your ‘beautiful head’ was covered in yet another type of braid which is as synthetic as a weave but you claim to be a natural hair crusader? You know what, you are fake. Fake gets you traffic, I know. Fake gets you to put up a show and set tongues wagging.
In fact, I have been meaning to write about weaves for the longest time now. I don’t wear weaves for personal reasons. I tried one last year and regretted it.
Have you ever been so tired you get mad at anyone and anything on your way? So tired you wonder if you are sick? So tired you want to sleep and sleep on till all sleep is gone from your system? We both know that will never happen.
This has been one of those weeks. My level of tiredness is increasing as we advance into the week. It started on Monday. I wake up full of psyche for the bright new day. I will go to work because Saba Saba Day is a ghost from the past. If you are like me you know ghosts are not real. So I walk up Ring Road confident in my belief. The road is strangely calm. I walk into the Office Park compound. The car park is not as full as usual.
You know that bout of unwanted thoughts that invade you from out of the blue? That annoying urge to go far away from everything and just be alone. I have a lot of those. Especially on Monday mornings. I have nothing against Mondays. Actually, I kinda look forward to them. Mondays always breathe a new sense of being into me. Because you never know what will happen that week. You don’t know what weird man will honk at you as you take your routine 15 minute walk up that suburban Westlands road. You have no idea who you will bump into in the bus or on the street. Your employer may come up with a whole new way of doing things. You might even end up writing a post you had no idea you could in here. Your computer could decide this is the week it freezes a gazillion times between 9 and 5. The possibilities are limitless.
Today, I am feeling bad because I am still single. Yes. It happens. All the time. I always wonder how long this will go on. What my chances are of meeting someone while behind the keyboard for 3/4 of my days. The other 1/4 I am asleep of course. The thing about this feeling of desperation today is that it is different. It is different because I am no longer in campus. I am about a year old out here since leaving the great Moi University. That institution was quite something. If you frequent this space (or rather, the old blog) you know how I could go on and on and on about that institution.
There are memories I hate to remember. Bad memories. Fortunately or unfortunately, those are the ones I remember. Most of my family members can remember tiny little details from the…
Today’s Throwback Thursday post is for you 4Wians, class of 2007, Alliance Girls High School. It so happens that I used to record all these things somewhere before I had…