Those animals are mine!!

All I can say is AMEN! AMEN!

From the Nation
Court halts animal sale to Thailand Story by JILLO KADIDA
Publication Date: 12/21/2005

The High Court yesterday stopped the deal to export 175 wild animals to Thailand until a case by two wildlife conservation groups is heard.
Granting the order, Judge Joseph Nyamu said he was satisfied the memorandum of understanding between Kenya and Thailand might not amount to a treaty.
The 60-day order arose from an application by the National CBO Consortium and the Kenya Society for the Protection and Care of Animals, who demanded a stop to relocating assorted animals to Thai zoos in line with a reported deal between ministers of the two countries.
When the case was filed last week, the judge declined to order a stop, saying the court was not keen on interfering with a treaty.
The court could not review treaties between countries, unless the provisions are incorporated in Kenyan laws or passed as Acts of Parliament, he ruled.
The controversial deal was sealed on November 9 by Tourism and Wildlife minister Morris Dzoro and Thai Natural Resources and Environment minister Yongyut Tiyapairat.
And despite protests by local and international wildlife conservationists – who said the transfer would violate the animals' welfare – it was signed at State House, Nairobi, as President Kibaki and Thai prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra watched.
Lawyer Mbugua Mureithi told the court that wildlife conservation and management was legally under the Kenya Wildlife Service, and that the minister was required only to give general or special directions to KWS. "The national heritage should not be left to the disposal of one person or one arm of government," he argued.
The deal was signed without consulting the KWS, Parliament, other interested organs and the public, he said, adding that identifying and capturing the animals had begun.
Yesterday Mr Justice Nyamu noted that the issues raised by the applicants were of national importance.
After hearing both parties, the judge said the applicants had argued points which defined treaties, and had argued that only KWS was authorised to say whether the animals can be exported.

while my eyes were closed

they sold my animals
they sold my land
they are selling my people

they talk of politics in the near future
of 2007
while they sell my land
land that Dedan died for
to build houses
that my people can't afford

they tell me to go to school and come back to help my country
they know that while I am away they can sell my land

they talk of poverty and the effects it has on my people
yet the only true poor are they in spirit

they have a short memory
they have forgotten that we lived on camps
we lived behind barbed wire
us women were raped
our children went hungry
our men were broken

they talk of their tribesmen
they forget that when they look at us,
they see filthy African
not Luo
not Kalenjin
not Kikuyu
not Muslim
not Christian
not rich
not slum dweller

they see slave

they look at my land
not because they are hungry
but because it is only a matter of time
before the "they" that we have become kills us

they talk about new cabinet ministers
they talk about a new consititution
they talk

while my eyes we closed

my children have become slaves
my children are squatters
my children

our children

it is only a matter of time
before we live on camps again

while my eyes were closed
my people lay dead
bleeding the same blood
that Dedan bled

flat earth

No I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. Although I sometimes wish I could. It a gray day and I am suffering from lazinitis. I should be doing assignments and mapping out the course of my future. I should. Tomorrow.

I realised today how important it is to pronounce a person's name correctly. After my name was called out twice in a familiar but very wrong manner I made a vow that from now on I won't hesitate to speak up and correct the person.

I am not "Waynewbi" I promise that is not my name and neither is it the pronounciation of my name.

I am however allowed to pretend I don't know who the person is talking to. Especially if I know I am in trouble. I wonder if this will work if I am pulled over by a cop.

small miracles, big change

Moaning about what needs to be done will not make things get done. It is the sprit of those who take the step to make small things happen. To make miracles.

I came across the story of a man who using camels travels the desert with a mobile camel library. It's not much. He could be like many who sit in the sun, wondering when the sun will set. Yet he travels to bring the understanding of how the sun sets to others through books.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/shared/spl/hi/picture_gallery/05/africa_kenyan_camel_library/html/1.stm

It takes a small move. You know the story of the butterfly and the tsunami. It's for a reason that this story is told.

What's your move?

where are your dreads

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kifo cha Bee cha tangazwa...

Bee, 88, Kenyan Artist and Founder of the Women’s Center

Bee, artist, died of heart failure at home on Pemba Island on Friday. She was 88.
Born in Kenya, Bee moved to the United States in 2003. She held a bachelor’s in Social Development and a PhD in Development Studies.
Bee saw her dream of opening a Women’s Center realized in 2010 in Nairobi and later in other developing countries which include Barcelona in Spain, Madras in India, and Quito in Ecuador. The centers continue to operate under her desire for women to learn from each other’s experiences.
She was an avid supporter of soccer as a way to educate the youth and together with her husband, set up a soccer training camp in Nyeri.
“In the last week she spent a lot of time in her workshop. Painting,” said her closest friend Cirdan. “It was as if she was devoting the last of her energy to the thing she loved most.”
“She was such a simple person, by looking at her it was impossible to know that she had worked throughout her life to create these women’s centers,” said Maria DeCosta, the Director of the Ecuador Center. “Her work has changed the lives of many women, young and old in countries with highly impoverished populations of women.”
Bee also enjoyed outdoor camping, backpacking and hang gliding. "She loved nature and was an adventurous companion when it came to camping," said Mr. Bee, her husband.
Her family and friends will be gathering on Friday at the Uprising Football Club in Nyeri for a celebration of love. Come ready to dance and play soccer, at this nighttime barbeque. No flowers please. Please bring a candle. Donations can be made to the Women’s Centers in your nearest country or to the Uprising Football Club.
“Her work changed the lives of many women, in many poor countries,” said Maria DeCosta, the Director of the Spain Women’s Center.
She is survived by her husband of 64 years, Mr. Bee, among much family.

Why I love Kenya...

Because of everything. I love Kenya. I love Africa. I am feeling patriotic. Bless my soul.

And I love Kenya because of:
http://www7.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0509/feature2/index.html
Don't be bothered by the rather dispassionate speech from the photographer. He likes taking pictures. He missed Nairobi as it is. Nice pictures though...

Stay posted for my obituary.

R.I.P

I had to write my obituary yesterday. I know, I know I have tupad workshop. No really it was for a class "Death and Dying" that I strategically found myself taking.
As I was thinking about it late one night while I soaked in the tub, I wondered how long it would take before anyone realised I had died. I have a roomate who is not often home and I imagined him discovering my naked body, probably with a nearby floating wine glass. Not the best way to die.
No, in writing my obituary I had to think about how I wanted to die. I said congenital heart failure, taking the easy way out. I had visions of me dying after I jumped out of an aircraft but I didn't think I could do that at 88 and not make it difficult to clean up after the mess.
Then I realised, that I actually do have to die. Me. I am going to have to die. Death does not infact happen to other people!

I will marry you if for Valentine's day...

Remember how I said that I want to be materialistic when I grow up. I found the man to fulfill my dreams of a fast red sports car.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/4263599.stm

Apparently all I have to do is wear a loin cloth, oil my breasts and dance. Then I may win his hand in marriage and strike gold. I love tradition but surely, the picture of a grown man, who has married a 17yr old, after lifting a ban on underage sex so that he can have sex with her is rather ah... Surely. Come on. Aii. Tsk.

Oh I forgot one thing. Sadly I am too old to get married to him.

confession of a possible school lover

I think I am likely to be chronically attending school. I love it!

I think it has to do with the wonderful ideas shared. Where am I going to get the same sharing inthe big old world. Maybe I am in the wrong field. I want to have good conversation about poverty, globalisation, death, justice, happiness, love, life...will I find that working as a clerk?

Nothing against clerks.

I love the library. I love books. I want to inhale them.

I love the feeling I get from reading a good piece. Listening to a good argument. I love thinking a problem through and realising a simple solution.

How do I keep learning as a life-long hobby?

Could someone also tell me how to fix the blog...everything seems to be going haywire on it...

fruit market

I have so far managed to keep my vent about Wakulima market to myself...BUT I can't not silence myself anymore. Fruits don't look the same anymore. Even in the school cafeteria. They have changed my concept of the constitution of oranges and bananas.

If I am a Cucu I will not choose oranges because they will give me acidity.

Who came up with that idiotic idea...oh SORRY, isn't it the cows that "lead" our country. We look like apes for it to be broken down to that level. And what maddens me thoroughly is that still, no-one knows what consititution is which and what each speaks of.

How about printing the document in simple English. Or better yet how about Kiswahili for those who don't understand English.

Then there will be no need for oranges or bananas, ofcourse apart from the bananas who are "our leaders."

For those wondering why I am going on about a fruit salad: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/4215266.stm

A fruit milkshake anyone?

Umoja

Yes, I am back hence the new post. I have a cold now from being away from my family. Culture shock has not ceased to strike me the oddest ways. As I remember how to blog, here isan interesting article sent to me by a friend...I wish I had known about this place before. Maybe I would have stayed there. Maybe not. If any of you have ever read Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman you will understand what I mean...

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2005/07/16/wkenya16.xml&sSheet=/news/2005/07/16/ixworld.html

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/07/08/AR2005070801775.html

JKIA

When I got onto that flight 4 days ago I did not think it would be the longest flight ever. Why does going home take longer than going to uteto?
They zimaad the lights in the aircraft before landing, saying it was procedure. I figure that it was so that the controllers at JKIA will know it is an aircraft and not a ma3.

Okay let me stop.

I'm home and that is all that matters.

Bee.

I'm a material girl

Let's face it. I want a comfortable life. And I want money to pay for it. Is there a man out there who is willing to work with me to get that comfortable life? No listen, I am not talking about a Ferrrari or a villa in Italy, no nothing like that...although now that I think about it... Bear with me, seriously. We go through high school, university and sacrifice somethings along the way. Your parents and those before you have sacrificed to bring you where you are. You are where they wanted to be one day.
I recently asked if you would agree to be a house husband, have the "wife" bring the bacon home. Ladies would you be happy with that agreement? What is the partnership in money making within the family? Is the wife's household contribution equivalent to the husband's corporate job. Does it still work in reverse?
There is no lying about it, when I look at a man and a future, I wonder if he can take care of me materially. Is this a traditonal viewpoint or is this simply the animal instinct in me? What do you admit to looking for in a future lifelong mate? Our forefathers asked for a woman to have a "strong back."
What is your thing that breaks you down to your basic?

incredibly delirious

Have you ever felt it. That happiness that kicks you in the stomach and throws you to the world laughing. The birds migrated leaving a sunny day and a joy that lifts to kiss the puffy white clouds that bear my dreams.

I am happy. Seriously.

And it happened one weekend when it became clear over, Fela Kuti's music and in the darkness of my mind. I saw the flicker of a flame. I am burning with it now.

This is how I can be happy. I can not try to explain it. I shall instead sit and let the lingering spirit tickle me. Giggling like the little girl I used to be.

I also have schoolwork to do...

Duck!

My room is tidy.

But my mind feels cluttered. I tiden my room and do my laundry to clear my mind but now I have a feeling deep within that this time it will not work. Atleast not as well as it usually does.

Listening to reggae maybe it will stir something.

I like these days and I don't like these days. I like these days because they are loaded with pockets of inspiration. But they are also loaded with lots of moments of humility. My clumsiness reminds me that I have no control over anything...as much as I pretend I do, I don't.

It is easier on this days, not to fight the rain. Not to fight the bird poo that falls on me as I walk down the street. Maybe enjoy the splat sound that the poo makes as it lands on my sleeve.

I am having one of those days.

"Splat!"

Cirdan passes the stick on the left hand side

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Central Station

So I went to a gay pub the other day to sing karaoke at a competition. My friend and I, a guy went uo to sing "You're the One That I Want" from Grease. Me being Sandy, although he would have done a good impression of her, himself. We came in second place.

I have to admit that I have never seen such large amounts of affection displayed at a club. It wasn't vulgar but on the contrary it was honest. Among the first questions asked whenever I was introduced was whether I was gay, bi or straight. The men there knew what they had come for and were not hiding it in the way that they do at a straight club. Greetings were exchanged with a kiss on the cheek or lips. And I have to admit, the tension there to compete with others of my female species for the few preying men was drastically reduced. I wasn't competing for anything but the karaoke.

My friend and I had a code word "Bananas" for anytime any of us needed to get out of a "situation." I used it several times when older looking men especially, wiggled their way across the bar to stand next to me with that sly look in their eyes. He used it too when a man in a black jacket and gelled back jet black hair, slithered past after attempting conversation with my friend.

I certainly didn't use it however, when the brown sweetie came to talk to me. Hulk of muscle, brown green eyes and a tight derriere. Oh yes. Too bad he was gay. Or as my friend says "All that toast and no jam, mmmh mm mm ( finger snapping action)."

I have nominated myself a regular there. Next week I'm singing a Spice Girl's song. Any requests?

liar, liar pants on fire

I haven't told a lie in a while. Last week I told a fib about how I had food poisoning and thus missed an early morning class. I named the food "Lo Mein," the restaurant "China Kitchen." Now I can't get it off my mind that I actually lied. No really, I thought I had fleshed out that part of me that feels chicken to tell the truth yet here I was spinning an elaborate tale. I feel betrayed.

I feel I need to confess to the world but I don't have the guts to confess to my professor.

Especially not after he said it was "probably because my stomach is not used to that type of diet." Here ofcourse he was referring to my Africaness. I wanted to pound the table and tell him to stop being a fool. We actually do have Chinese restaurants in Kenya, contrary to popular belief, we don't all drink raw blood and eat maize daily.

We do however have matumbo which is cooked blood and filled with all sorts of goodness, and we do have ugali, pounded maize made into "cake." Nonetheless these are hardly staple foods.

By the way this is the same professor I mentioned in an earlier blog... He still has not kissed the bottom of my shoe.

I feel a burning

It was in the mid to late 50's that the British were raping our women and had placed then in camps to dig trenches and to starve. Because our people wanted independence. In the 50's when the US enjoyed drive - thru movies, T.V. and had Hollywood, Kenyan women would have to steal from fields to feed themselves and their children. If they were old or sick they would not eat so that the children would.
When Elvis was alive and rocking, our women were half clothed and sometimes they were naked when they were being beaten because they refused to wake up at 4am to build huts and dig trenches. They were dying from water-borne disease because on their grid-like camps they were not allowed to build sanitation infrastucture.
I feel a burning anger because our women were being raped, sodomised with bottles and left in water overnight in the open cold while Heartbreak Hotel was being shown on T.V.

It has not changed. Lord, it has not changed.

your funeral

When you die, who do you want your mother to call "my children?" Who among your friends is worthy of your mother's love?

lets talk about

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"all my life...

...I pray someone like you and I thank God that, that I finally found you..."

Aii aii, the song has ingiad! Walalala. Remember that song by K-Ci and Jo-Jo? Yaani who the hell said that that name is cool? Ati K-Ci and Jo-Jo. Kumbe his whole name is Kilowatt Clement and Josephat Jeremiah.

Hey but atleast the song is not as corny as R. Kelly's Sex in the Kitchen. Now that is a BAD song. Cheap.

Having a party at home this Friday. An 80's joint. You guys are welcome. I was going to color my hair...decided my hair is not caucasian...if I dye it wrong, it will fall off in clumps.

happy place, natural make-up and locs

I recently went to a women's spoken word concert. Beautiful. All natural, African Americans embracing their culture. They were not trying to be African, they were not trying to be anything but themselves. I was surrounded by a euphoria. They danced and read and told jokes. They sang and praised and I saw "woman."

Then I went to NY. One of the largest cities in the world. I met a diverse group of people and wondered where all the white people were.

I was surrounded by shops, restaurants and lights. I met Adam who sold paintings on the side of the road. He reminded me that it is nice to have money. It buys comfort. But it is also nice to have none but be happy wth what you do. He stopped using drugs and alcohol because of a woman he met. She didn't ask it but he decided to stop. He chose to leave his music career to sell his art. He taught this woman to paint. And how to speak English.

I also met Mirella. She had lost her son the week before and she told me that every mother prays to God each night to take care of her children. Each mother has a space in her heart for her children. She told me that when her father died it broke her heart. When her son died she had no heart. She was working to keep from getting depressed.

I saw young woman, lover, mother, traveller. I saw woman and I loved her throughout.

total recall

A man turned me on today. Not by by how he looked or by how he talked but by his sheer imagination. I met the designer of a BMW model for Alpine Electronics. The machine looked much like something out of a Sci-Fi. Sliding doors, central steering wheel, titanium inside with two centrally placed seats, and speakers all over the interior. http://www.alpine-usa.com/ click on BMW 5X. It wasn't the machine but the fact that in his mind, he saw this machine. He asked me what I thought of the machine.

"It's scary."
"Scary? I see what you mean...it is kind of aggressive."
"No...it's not aggressive. It's scary."
"Why?"
"It is kind of like a scary look into the future. Have you watched Total Recall?"

I am still astounded by his talent. It wasn't the car but the fact that he saw it in his mind.

It makes me wonder about myself. How much of my talent am I stiffling by saying that there are other things to be done? By saying that first I need to attain this or that degree, to get through school, to make time.

When will this time that I am making come? I don't fit into this mold. What I am doing now is not what I was meant to be. There is more to me. It burns and it hurts.

Why am I afraid of it? That it will consume me and make me visibly crazy outside as I am inside. I know I have this thing inside and I let it drive me crazy. So I sit. Watching it. Watching me. Watching time.

The man turned me on. He turned me on.

men beware!!

This was too funny a story to pass up. She must be a Nyeri woman. Girl power!!!Whoooooohoooo!!! Adds flavor to what I usually say is the best punishment. Cut off his testicles and super glue them to his forehead!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/1/hi/world/africa/3655190.stm

I apologise for the violent content of this particular blog...too much coke, too late at night.

lady

I love my job sometimes. I just talked to a lady about Bloomingdales. She told me about her son who met a Filipino girl and got engaged 3 weeks ago. We talked about Turkey her home country and she told me about her survival from breast cancer. I loved her in an instant. She sat down asking for directions to Bloomingdales (1hr 16 mins away) and I loved her in that instant. I hugged her at the end of the conversation. I feel like crying. I feel so happy.

it goes on

I guess the FIFA president in not alone in wanting sexier female football players:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/football/africa/4332715.stm

I still think that the male soccer players (Baggio again) should wear net vests so that we can see their pulsating "muscules" and leopard print undies so that we can see their swollen... I'll let you think on that.

Bob and his women

Maybe what Bob did with the women is the true meaning of "One Love."

I am.

I am lucky to have the comforts that I do. God has got nothing to do with it. I would say I am blessed by God but I know he has nothing to do with it.

If he blessed me then he cursed those who do not have what I have. I do not have what others have because really I have no need for those things.

Therefore I am not lucky. I merely have what I need.

When will I then be grateful that my wants are fulfilled. To whom should I be grateful to, if God has got nothing to do with it.

castaway

I'm back from my dhow trip down the Mississippi. I wasn't looking for it but I had to post this:
Cat survives 10-mile trip on top of car Motorist alerts owner of 'Cuddle Bug's' precarious position
The Associated Press
Updated: 1:48 p.m. ET March 4, 2005
INKOM, Idaho - Torri Hutchinson's cat might just have one less life to live. Hutchison was driving along Interstate 15 one day recently when a motorist kept trying to get her attention and pointing to the roof of her car.
She said she was wary of the man, but wondered if perhaps her ski rack might have come loose.
She pulled over to the side, but kept her doors locked and the motor running.
The man pulled up behind her. Hutchinson rolled down her window to hear the man frantically shouting, "Your cat! Your cat!"
He reached for the roof of her car and handed the shocked Hutchinson her orange tabby.
She had driven about 10 miles with the cat on top of the car, and didn't even notice the feline when she stopped for gas.
Hutchinson said Cuddle Bug, or C.B. for short, had climbed into the back of her car as she was getting ready to leave. She put him out, but he must have jumped on the roof while she wasn't looking, she said.
© 2005 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/7088318/?GT1=6305
It kinda reminds me of my life...I would be the cat in the story.

so line up your soldiers coz...

...Alicia rules the world!! It has been a while since I heard this song. Always makes me feel like the chick in army fatigue, war paint, lip gloss and a manicure.

Did I ever tell you about my Professor who despite all his knowledge thinks Kenya does not have sky scrappers hence why it is easier to see the sun rise and set. Or has no knowledge about Mwalimu Julius Nyerere, philosopher king, yet my Professor teaches a course on " The Republic" Plato and "Utopia" by Sir Thomas More? Or while talking about paradise, I talked about the similarity to many Kenyan desciptions of paradise and he said it is probably because it is not that developed. Or when he asked me about when I came to the US because my English is so good.

See my shoe?

The underside of it?

Yes right there.

Kiss it, Sir.

Hmmmm

So tonight I join a friend for a night of Ska. What the hell is that?

Sitting in French class daydreaming, I only noticed that I had nodded my head in agreement when the professor called my name out and asked me to elaborate on my thoughts. Crap!! What had she been talking about. The class went silent and everyone turned to look at me. I started to sweat a cold sweat as I realised that for sure she would know that I had not been listening and had infact been dreaming about sex.

Crap.

Why of all times did I have to be thinking about sex? Why in the middle of class when I knew there was a likelihood of me being singled out? Why when I would have to fidget with my scarce French to try to sound intelligent?

Crap.

ordinary day

I don't consider myself a feminist in the classical way. I won't burn a bra or bray for the blood of the oppressive male. I think I am to be classified as a liberal feminist. If I were to be classified at all.

I don't like the word empowerment. I detest it.

I think I don't even like the word feminist.

This is what happens on an ordinary day. Mid- sentence monsters.

Thesis #5: Always listen to your gut instinct. It is reason without the perversion of logic. It just is right.

$20 dollars

Interesting. Embarassing. Humbling. Yes, it hurts in an ugly way.

I was bought for $20 by my friend. I say this knowing that I am attractive. Pretty even. Yet I was sold for $20 and bought by a friend I know. I say it letting those who read this think that is my worth because that is what it felt like at the moment. I felt worth $20 and not a fifty cent more, yet I know...

Do I?

Disappointing.

The guy who bought me says that I was placed at a bad time when the show only had about 10 mins left to it and people were leaving. That people passed me up and he was lucky to be able to afford me.

He said I was in shock. Then he sat with me late into the wee hours of the morning, watching Pulp Fiction and talking and listening to Cesaria Evora. I fell asleep and so did he.

I realised how much I value how I look. I know that the timing was bad but it does not take away the way it felt. And I am embarrased by my value for this thing that does not represent who I really am.

Maybe it does and this whole time I have been picking it apart as if it didn't and letting it down. Hiding it so that it is never questioned. Letting it only be admired by those who love me because I know that with them I will not be wrongly criticized.

I don't like the lumpy, heavy feeling I get when I want to "outdress" other women.

This is my insecurity. It is worth $20.

mirror, mirror on the wall

On the form I filled in one of the questions was "What is your best feature."

Tomorrow I pick my nicest clothes maybe show alittle cleavage or leg and stand to be auctioned off. My first date auction and I am in it. I don't even remember how I volunteered myself. I think it was over a breakfast bun. Maybe it was the coffee.

What if no one buys me.

A test of my womanhood. Can I stand and let my feminine ways speak for me so that I won't be embarrased? I am half tempted to show up in jeans and a t-shirt. I am half tempted to dress scantily. But I think I know better.

Will I be less of a woman if no one buys me? Will I hurt? Does it mean I am any less sexy if I am sold at the cheapest price? Will it go to my head if I am sold at the highest price?

Is this a measure of how powerful first impressions are? How vain will I get? How much will this one moment matter to me?

pain

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Jesus said...

"Love thy neighbours as thyself."

Thesis #4: Love thyself in thy neighbours.

mwangaza

Hehehe...I am listening to a guy playing the piano. I am amazed by the fact that he knows this particular tune "Mwanga wangu mdogo nitauwangaza, mwanga wangu mdogo..." then as I was about to jump out of my seat to check if he is Kenyan, I realised he is playing "This light of mine" and not the Swahili version of it.

Yes I haven't written in a while. Life took over.

Reading a book about ancient African godesses and I am fascinated to learn that Mary the Virgin was based on the Egyptian godess, Isis. Also finding out that early Egyptians came from Eastern Africa. And so did their gods. Where have I been? How come I didn't know this stuff?

vanity hits the ground laughing

It has been over 3 yrs since I last fell. Today my butt connected the pavement as I slipped on ice. It was a glorious moment. I noticed how blue the sky was as I lay on the ground laughing. It felt as if a weight had been lifted of my back and any pretences I had were thoroughly washed away by the frozen waters. It has been a while and seeing as my day began with me being highly tense, this was God's swift kick in the nether region telling me to lighten up. I did.

Then I went for dinner at some over priced restaurant ( hey, free food) and gave my car to valet. Not realising it would cost me $10 to park my not so fancy Ford Aspire that has no front bumper, no a/c, no power locks but has great gas mileage. I was shocked when I was asked to dish out the coins I had collected from selling one of my books. I noted that it was cold to the valet guy. I asked if they got heaters or something to keep them warm. He said "Uh, uh, I've got my car over here," and quickly pointed to a silver BMW.

My friend tells me he was probably lying about the car being his. I would love to think that.

But I think this is a classic case of God's sense of humour. I don't think he is kidding about this joke.

Goodnight God.

Saturday night

How much of yourself would you give to a stranger before you stop because you are compromising yourself?

Case: A man walks up to you on the street. He tells you that he is homeless even though he just looks haggard but not visibly poor, he asks you for money. You have $4 in your pocket and you have a sandwich in one hand. You wanted a soda to go with your sandwich. You won't be getting any more money for another couple of days. You know however that you will be fine as long as no unexpected costs arise. Do you give him anything? If you do, how much do you give him?

Does it change things if it is a woman? What if it is a child? Does it hurt to give?

Saturday morning

What does it mean to be a parent?

Many of us imagine having children so that we can continue our family blood. But what duty do the children have to us? I know of a couple of kids who speak their mind, they can be hurtful but they speak their mind. What does this reflect on their parents? Have their parents failed in teaching their kids to be mindful of peoples' feelings or have they been successful in teaching their children to be honest?

Kids are born. They are just born. They owe nothing to their parents. Do their parents owe them nothing in return? Or is this the ultimate definition of love in that there is no exchange of duty: a good for a similar good.

my fingers are purple

It is cold like something else outside.

It has been a while since I stopped before a full length mirror and really looked. Only it wasn't in the privacy of my room but rather in the middle of a store that was selling mirrors. AND I could swear that the mirror was a slimming mirror. My butt is bigger than that.

I hope.

While talking to a friend of mine...2 hrs into the conversation...he asked me what I prefer. Time or money. Would I rather live a long poor life or a short filthy rich existence? I think if I lived a long poor life, I'd probably be looking for ways to get rich. But if I got rich and was going to die soon, I'd spend my money trying to prolong my life.

What do you prefer?

don't smile at strangers

Apparently I lead men on. No, seriously. I'm too friendly and that is why men think I am interested. Attention is a drug.
Sadly I love people so much, that it is hard to be inattentive.
How do you tell a guy you are not interested without hurting his feelings?
I am not the type to beat around the bush, EXCEPT when it comes to saying "I'm not interested." I know it is worse when the guy thinks I am and I "lead him on" but how, oh how do you say it without being mean?
And even when you do say it, you get the lie, "Neither am I." "Oh I know what you mean." "I am not looking for anything romantic either." but days later, he is bring you roses and putting you on a pedestal when you already said you were not interested in the pedestal. Help!
Attention is a drug.

moulin rouge and bourne supremacy

Two movies later, some Farmers Choice sausages (yes a rela managed to sneak them in) and a fight later, I remembered I had a blog. My roomate and I are snowed in, could not go to work. Painted my toe nails and watched them dry.

"The greatest thing you'll ever know, is just to love and to be loved in return." Great but how selfish it is. The ideal is to fall in love and have it returned but what grows when you are still with the person, not in love, but love the person. Is that possible? To love someone but not be in love with them, when you started off by being "in love" with them?

Would you so freely love someone if you knew that you would love them and they would never return it? Would that be love?

the horror that is me

So spotting a pimple on my chin, a bloated stomach, hot flashes, nausea and the random emotional outbursts, I recognise the signs that many women know all too well.

It is snowing outside. I don't like it much. It is pretty but it is cold and slippery and makes me want to stay in bed. I like the sun. I thrive on the sun. Spent last night sharing racist jokes among my friends with a saddistic pleasure from their very apparent discomfort. I couldn't help it. I didn't want to help it.

Woke up with a nosebleed. Haven't had that in a while and I blame it on the weather.

Also realised how flittery the heart it is when it comes to love. Much like the description I gave about snow. Cold, slippery and makes you want to stay in bed.

The horror that is me.

later stage of life, deeper spirituality

I have a crude need for affirmation that I have people who are reading this. I need to write this so that I may feel the fool that I am when it comes to vanity.

Growing old is thought of as a sad period, for some, when they will be deserted by family, taken to nursing homes and widowed...left to face the cold, dimming world by themselves.

Old age is a period for spirituality. I think it is significant in providing the silence that preceeds death. This for me is the reason for the wisdom that accompanies the individual who does not fight the inevitable. Life before old age is about service to the community. Life in old age is a time to step back and let the community serve you. If you did your duty well, the community will serve you justly. I want to grow old. I desire the freedom from the strange responsibility to the faceless many who I brush against as I go about daily life.

Thesis #3: There is infinite beauty in the silence that awaits the death that is not sought but the death that is accepted and embraced.

Ati Kenyan?

While on my wayward trips through blog world I came across my favorite blog mithlond.blogspot.com and clicked on among others a link talking about a book on the Mau Mau. I am nervous about this vague aspect of my history and rather embarrassed that I know alot more about the 1st World War than I do about this period of time that marked me "Kenyan" and not a squatter of Kenia, Passbook number XXXXXX.

So we go through high school. Educated about KANU, KADU etc, educated about Vasco Da Gamma, and a sprinkling of Bildad Kaggia. Nothing about Dedan, nothing about the Luos who worked with the Mau Mau and not much about the state of emergency.

Yet I say I am Kenyan.

My school library has more books about that Mau Mau than I knew existed. Shame. Shame on me.

bee marley

Is this love...just read up on the man who was known for his music and love of women. Bob Marley the welder. Bringing me back to my topic of unfaithfulness. These women knew that they were not the only ones but the man was so potent they could not resist him. What did he tell them? Was it his money? His fame? His virility? His mind? What? Why did Rita stay with him, collecting his children from other unions?

Is this a case of fools in love? Famous quote I will misquote "Only women, ostriches and monkeys are happy to be made foolish by love..." You get the gist of it. I would like to do that. Have sex without the baggage. None to take in, none to take out. Bang, bang, you're out. (by the way I would not agree to be called a prostitute, its derogatory ofcourse). I'd like to have the simple pleasure of "just sex." Sadly it is not womanly. Drat!

pinstripes and apron strings

As I stand before the mirror looking at an image of a woman so defeminised by a black pinstripe suit, a familiar conversation came to mind.

I want to be successful. I like many women, are working towards equality in the workforce. I want to be one of the execs, the decision makers. I want to pound my fist on the oak meeting table and demand that changes be made. The epitome of power in the business world. That, a leather chair and a corner office with a view of the city below.

As I stared at my masculinity in the mirror, I began to doubt. What about children? What about picking them up from their first day of school, helping with homework and as "silly" as it may sound what about baking apple pie and frying mandazi for tea-time?

The baby dilemma.

Which do I value more? It will have to be one or the other. If I choose the former, will my husband agree to be a house-husband, because I definately want our children to come home to one parent? Ladies would you marry a man who wants to stay home and cook and clean and do all the "motherly" duties, leaving you to be the breadwinner?

Guys would you agree you be the mommy?

rasta pasta

I went to a vegan cafe today, not that I am planning to switch or anything (I love mbuzi choma), but just to try something new. It was nice. I could have done with a little beef stew on my rice...but...

I'm feeling abit lazy this evening.

It's a skin condition

I am glad that some people do not worry about being politically incorrect. Where are all the bra-burning feminists now? I think that in men's soccer, the players should wear those black see through net vests, and shiny leopard skin thongs. Ref: copy and paste the following

http://www.caaws.ca/Whats_New/2004/jan/soccer_16.htm

He is the head of a large organisation. Kudos for being honestly masculine but boo for being a neaderthal about the issue.

As I was having a converstion at work with one of my co-workers and a guest, I was asked if I had seen a particular guest. I used all the politically correct adjectives: short, built, etc. Finally out of frustration I asked if he was Black. My co-worker's face froze and so did the guest's. She mumbled that there are many African American people around. People please! If the only way that I can narrow a person down is by their race then so be it. Since when was a biological charateristic (black skin) a curse word!

dirty old men

Old man just made a move on me. Told me he would take me home to his wife. That we can share his bed.
Talking about weird, I watched an interesting movie last night, not that I would add it to my movie collection, but it was an evening well wasted: "Kumar and Harold go to Whitecastle." Anyone watched it?

Thesis#2 Take the biggest piece of the pie, you never know when it will come around again.

Some one pointed out that I am a rather blunt person. I feel offended.

tragedy

Please keep track of the comments, if you haven't. There are some brilliant minds out there.

If you have not watched the movie "Quills" you need to. Great tragedy full of many truths. We must know all vice before we can value virtue. Brilliant.
How kenyanized I am. Driving down a side road with my sister when we came to a road that was closed and barricaded. We turned the car around my sister explaining that the road led to a major highway a few years back. What explanation jumps into my head? "They closed the road because the people in that estate have been thugged too many times. They wanted to reduce the flow of traffic, to make sure they know who's car is driving down the road." But wait...let me remind you that I am in the US. They don't close roads over thuggery! Only in Kenya! Only in Kenya!
I love these bits of "habitude" that creep into my open mind when I least expect it. Hence mid - sentence monster.

long foggy drive home

Another day slogging at the machinery called work.
Thank you thank you to the many who have visited the site and made time to say something.
Thesis #1: We need not understand to believe. We need to believe to understand.

It occured to me as I munched away at cheerios that I want to do so much with my life that I am straining myself doing everything. Yet, I love it all. Along the same lines I came across a rather disfigured definition of cheating in relationships. Does it remain so when the person is open about their many affairs? What do you call it when there is no guilt on the part of the perpetrator? Playing has the connotation of deceipt. What do you call someone who is in a realationship and is open to their partners about their affairs?

Those Catholics again

I have nothing against them. I just have something against those who follow it religiously. In this case it is those who don't stop to question. How else do we come up with answers? Faith is not about blindness. It comes with an understanding for true belief. Unproven but understood. How does one understand without questioning? Hmmm.
Organised religion. Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!
It occured to me that I have not been to church in a while. I think it has something to do with a particular vow I read in this church's "handbook." That is a story for another time. I do remember that there is a strange euphoria that I miss about church. This constant overwhelming love for thy neighbours. Sadly followed by the realisation that this love is only for Sundays. I like the singing though. And the attempt at religion. "A" for effort. But who am I to talk. I have no religion. Let me point out that I am glad that atleast there is some guidance out there about resolving my insignificance. When was the last time you went to church? What were you there for?
P.S
I welcome my first ever visitors. Kui and Mshairi. Karibu.

gray day light thought

I went to a strip club. A women's strip club. At first I expected to be squirmish...I am a woman myself. I actually realised that I became immune to it. In a heated discussion with the lady friend I was with, I said that were I to go into the sex trade, this is what I would do. I'd be a dancer. No sex is involved and the men are not even allowed to touch you! BUT along with it came the question of Kenyan morals. In Kenya to work in such a place is evil. The only thing stopping me is what my dear cucu would think of me. Is this a case of tradition imposing its ways on the business minded woman or is it fundamentally wrong?

BACKOFF!!!

I just came from my first class in women's self defense. Screaming and ripping I felt very "simple" I think my pleasure is strangely from the idea behind it. I have to admit that it is great that women learn how to defend themselves but wouldn't it be more effective to educate the men (usually the attackers)? Idealism I know, but it is a sad world when a woman has to resort to this to feel safe. Here is the funny thing, the world will be worse when we bear the fruits of our loins. They won't know how bad they have it until they have their own children. The circle of life.

werocamu

So I decided to find out what this stuff is about blogs. Read "I decided to be vain." I have no idea what I will talk about...oh oh a friend just asked me what I would do if I hit a $1M jackpot. Obvious answer...reinvest. No private islands, no limo rides, no Hummer (Oh God no!!). Actually I find those things ugly. Who wants to travel in a moving house. Comeon! Buy a camper! But a Land Rover County. That is the dream car. The sound that the engine makes! MMMHHH!!!