I’m having a mild headache. You know, those ones that you know will disappear once you get home. I was okay before I left the office. Then I got into this matatu with a drunk kange and it hit me that my head was aching. Dude was laughing the whole time, in delirium, not giving passengers change and showing them his “change-less” palm.
“Kama watu huishi kama wewe, hawawezi pata depression,” one passenger at the front quips.
Sometimes, I read books. Boring books. Books that suck the life out of me. Books that claim to be New York Times bestsellers. Books that everyone else has read. Most times, I let them sit on my headboard, waiting for a second chance. Other times I let them sit on my shelf until the day I feel they might be interesting again because my understanding of them has changed with experience. Often times, I just give them out because it’s not good to hoard stuff that someone else might enjoy. I gave away The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. I couldn’t stand it. Turns out my BFF’s mum loved it. I also gave away two John Grisham books: Sycamore Row and Gray Mountain. Honestly John bored me to death with these two. Bear in mind I’m a Grisham girl. Why would he bore me then, you ask? I have a theory.
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.
Sometimes things happen. Inexplicable things. Mind-boggling stuff. Tear-jerking events. You stare at your screen and wonder why such wonderful things are happening suddenly to you. Why you even after all your mistakes. Why you after all the self-doubt. And then you realize this is what miracles are made of. Yes, you have given your all but no, it’s not your doing. Absolutely not. And finally it hits you it was not suddenly at all. It just looked like it was.
Sit through two sermons in a span of four hours and if you do not walk out in the middle of either of them, you should not let the day end without spreading the word. Here I am. It’s been a while since I preached anyway.
For the longest time, I’ve harboured the dream of being an author. I know, not news, Shiku. Fine. Anyway, that’s my dream job.
First of all, calm down. I am here. Still. Second of all, here is why I have been away for forever. It involves Malindi, Kibera and meetings. In other words…
Ai, kwani you thought only celebs can tell us what’s in their bag? Anyway, I didn’t know what to write and I just had to write something to keep these juices flowing.
Here goes:
It’s over. Poof! June is gone. What have you done with your life? Me? Just here taking stock.
He will text or call you just to tell you the most trivial of things, just to ensure he kept you up to date or made you laugh. He will keep calling even when you don’t pick at first because you’re stuck in a meeting. If you are stuck somewhere, say, filling NHIF forms and don’t know those weird numbers, he’ll read them out off head – both his ID number and my mum’s, and any other random number you might want.
So I ran out of bundles from sending too many Bitmoji to someone when I left the office. (Yes, B, that’s what they were. Google that. Don’t know if there’s an app for that for Windows phones. Muhahahahahahahaha! Is there any app for anything for Windows phones anyway?)
Anyhuuuuu, (I’ll be using this word now that Biko hated on it. You know how I’m always trying too hard to be a rebel? Yep.)
I thought I’d share this interesting discovery. Thanks to Facebook’s “On This Day” feature where it digs up your memories from the past on any day, I have discovered that…
I don’t know about you but I can shed tears very easily. Very very easily. I will cry over every movie that is good enough. I will cry when a child sings a song in church or in Sunday school and does not even know the words but keeps on singing very joyfully. I will cry when I see someone in pain or difficult situation. Like a few days ago when friends of our family lost a beloved daughter. I sat at their living room listening to the stories from her friends and family and just couldn’t hold back my tears. I had a headache that night.
This Sunday, I found myself crying on a Metrotrans bus. We were just making that turn around Globe roundabout (can I still call it that?) and I saw him. I saw the little boy coiled into a ball near the huge metal pipe that straddles the Nairobi river.
I wake up at 8 am today. A record. You all know I wake up at 10 am on Saturdays. It’s getting harder and harder to wake up at that time nowadays. I have made a pact with myself that I will not neglect friendships in the name of resting away during the weekend. So I wake up, dillydally in the warmness of the blankets, chat with a friend, let miss cat join me as usual and then I finally make it out at 8:30 am. Someone congratulates me for waking up that early. Well in. I am up because I am headed for a wedding. A wedding I cannot fail to attend. Hannah’s wedding. If you frequent this blog, you know Hannah. Hannah almost always is the one who comments first on my posts. If she doesn’t do it here, she will do it on my Hangouts.
She will ask about my day, even when I don’t want to tell her about it, which is almost always all the time. She will linger, even when I snap at her. She will be so sweet that I will eventually tell her. And when I actually have a bad day and willingly tell her, she will ensure I am okay. She will call the next day when I get to work to follow up, even if I was with her a few minutes ago in the house.
It’s been a minute.
Shikungigi.com turned one on 23rd, but I could not celebrate because I am normally completely drowned in work till it’s Friday evening. And that’s why I am so glad May 1st is on a Friday. Somebody say oh yeah!