Senegal

Nanga Def!

As I was beginning to settle into being back home, I was whisked away by a longing to a corner of the world called Dakar, Senegal.

But gladly. For about a month my life may chart a direct course toward my becoming more knowledgeable on Africa. It is different. HOT!! Infact I may have suffered from heat exhaustion hence a prescribed dosage of codine and paracetamol and mandatory rest.

I visited Goree Island and was torn inside by where my brothers and sisters were sent off to plantations. Standing at "The Door of No Return" I felt a growing anger at mine and my fellow human's forgetfulness at the classification of my family as animals.

No pictures. Go there.

There is a man there. Who knows alot about the origin of Africans and about the untold history. About the

Kebra Nagast

and places I have never heard of...I'm ashamed. I will be travelling back to listen to him.

Peace.

vjsdyruwivnrhifaflll

I could not think of a subject. I hope this does for now until further notice. Anyone with suggestions on a suitable title for today's post, please let me know.

I'm still hurting from June's death. But its funny how the world expects you to go on. Then again, who said it would stop.

I had a nice day today. The sun was shinning. It was cool, colder than I would have liked but nice nonetheless. I was taken out to lunch by a new friend. A young Kenyan man. Gorgeous. With locks on his head. MMMMM...

When I came back I told another gorgeous Kenyan man, dark skin and clear mind about my lunch date. We sat and talked about love, marriage and the stuff relationships are made of.

I believe in polygyny AND polyandry.

For one reason. It was not a denial of the fact that it is human to be interested in more than one person.

Both men, beautiful, in and out. Intelligent.

Then I began to think about expanding the boundaries, what small close knit communities do...in breeding. How islands are populated. Female companionship. More than companionship.

Who makes the limits to what a person can share with another? Is it me and the person in the relationship, my religion or my family?

Then I realised that I was wasting time thinking about this when I could be getting to know my two Kenyan men better...and maybe...

June Nyanchoka

Sometimes we take the ones we love for granted. Sometimes we take our love for them for granted. If I could go back to next week I would. I would so that I could see her again. Just so that I could let her know that the fight we had sometime back did not affect our friendship. To let her know that what she has done to keep our other friends together is remarkable.

My friend, my dear friend died in a car accident on Sunday morning on April the 2nd 2006.

June I love you and miss you...yet you don't feel too far.

petition

Dear President Kibaki
On March 2, 2006 government forces raided the headquarters and printing plant of the Standard Group. In addition to destroying equipment and newspapers, beating up innocent employees who were doing their part in building the nation, they shut down the KTN news station. This latest attack follows the jailing of three journalists from Standard Newspaper, attacks on Citizen Weekly, and ongoing harassment of journalists by government-sponsored forces.
I would urge you to ensure that the perpetrator of this injustice to press freedom is ordered to apologise to the Kenyan public and the Minister who's jurisdiction he has stepped into. Mr. President please request his resignation in light of he's militant behavior and misuse of power entrusted to him by the Kenyan public.
Sincerely,
A registered voter.

it ain's over

So just when I think that I have cooled down...I flare up again. What am I talking about? Well it's the man of the hour. Having have recently read the report I am proud of one thing. The guy leaked the document to the whole world.

I am terrified by the fact that no one is in the right. Even the ones questioning the theives are theives themselves.

Since no one is going to say it, I feel abit told on. Like a kid who was doing wrong and I had a little brother who ran off to tell my Mom. Sure I shouldn't have been doing wrong. But this only works if we are 5 year old. What happens when those telling on each other are adults? Some in their 40's... I feel like the fact that he told England, through Edward Clay first, as a betrayal of his own interest, that being Kenya.

Let's face it. do not be fooled into believing that any white person, let alone a white politician has any interest in a poor black country in AFRICA. No listen. By virtue of being a citizen of a particular place, my loyalty is to that place. Right?

So the question arises, why then the great push to try the theives if the great mother has no intrest in Kenya.
She does.
And it is in her resources as she has kept it as a colony, nestling in her skirt.
Take a closer look.
It seems like a great admission that Africans are "incapable" of leading themselves...they have to get help from outside to tell them what's wrong. They should have remained colonised. Atleast then we would have control over the situation and would not have to bail them out. They steal from their own.

Then they run to us to undo the mess...well since we can't interfere (certain things like a paper saying they are independent, we'll use our seeds - their rulers).

It will take time. There is a call for a "critical mass" to effect change. It won't be in the next elections. And probably not those after. If the thugs who were stealing were stealing to campaign for the next elections, they only see that far.

In a world where there are people who think of future generations, what of the country's development? Will we always be slave labour for resources that are on our land that we end up buying at higher prices? No wonder we are poor. It's not the stealing from us but the admission that we can't stand up. Alone if necessary.

These are our leaders. They want the next elections. 2007. Then what? That's only 1 yr and a half away.

Is this foresight? Vision?

2007 then what?

growth

I think I have grown alot in the last couple of months.

I sometimes wish the growth was height wise since I am blessed with a rather short frame.

This evening I sit at this computer, with all the tools that i did not have when I was pushing myself to "do." I have everything at my fingertips to blow the minds of many and leave no doubt about what I am capable of.

Yet I stand, almost paralysed with the propects of what such an "uncovery" could do. I fear myself.

And wonder if this, this is really growth or has my brave outer shell become what it really is...a shell.

There is alot of work to be done. Within me and without me. I stand in awe of what has been placed before me, the land I have been lent for tilling, until the next person comes to take over where I leave off.

There is alot of work to be done.

that one moment

You stand outside.
Black velvet sky lit by millions of stars.
The air is still.
Filled with the smell of burning firewood.

You are too far from the city to hear the cars

Too far for your eyes to be blinded by the lights
that promise false security.

ALL you have is that star filled sky and the crickets in the bush.

The silence is stabbed by their chirping.
You are small.

You are the speck of the furthest star you see.

You are so small.

That one moment.

I want to do it standing

I had a nice New Years. A sober one. As I mulled over my cranberry juice and chilled with my friend J7.

Stood in a crowd of "Atlantians" and watched a peach drop. Yes. A peach. Then I hugged everyone I came across and hurled insults across the street. I screamed Happy New Year to any and everyone. Until I lost my voice. I was waiting to get shot.

I even learned how to say Happy New Year in Spanish. I won't write it lest I slaughter the language.
I also can now say "Stupido" thanks to the gracious Latina who taught me how to tell her boyfriend the word...teeehehe

The cranberry juice wound itself down to my bladder fast and since we were using the metro, it could only go as far as my bladder. J7 was in the same predicament but managed to sneak behind bushes. Aaahh Adrienne Rich. Woman doing woman. Simone Beauvoir, you are not born a woman...

I want to piss standing. I know I can. But sadly my tight jeans and pretty panties were not made with a hole. Unlike men's. The whole affair of pissing in bushes takes too long and it can be tricky. Especially with your butt being swiped by the crisp winter air. Then you have to stand and wiggle the jeans on again. Short of tripping and falling into the light with the jeans still wrapped around your ankles. Too much. I'll hold it.

Vent.

I stood staring into the darkness at the bush which was J7's relief, hoping that it would speak to me and say "Go ahead."

2006. You are not going to restrict me.

Watch out.

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