New Home

Hello Everyone,

My blog has moved to a new home i.e. www.mwende.matotoya.net . I hope to see you all there :-).

Thank you and God bless.

For Dreamers

To dream is a beautiful thing,
I think it should be considered one of the wonders of the world
That the human mind can see beyond today, tomorrow,
Create what is not, believe in what is yet to come.
The world needs dreamers to change the status quo,
To show it that we can do better, be better.
That there is no impossibility, no limit to human potential.

Close your eyes. Imagine a world where everyone is free and treated equally
Regardless of who they are or where they come from.
That especially minorities and the disadvantaged are given a fighting chance,
That all work under humane conditions and can earn an honest living to feed their families.
Imagine a world where children are given the space to be children
And enjoy the innocence and bliss that is childhood and learn to dream.

Imagine a world where Mother Nature is man's friend
Because we protect her children, she nourishes us and our children.
No deforestation, deserted open quarries, plastic bags floating down Nairobi river,
No fumes greying up the blue in the sky.
Imagine a world where material wealth is used to drive forward change
Not to deprive the disadvantaged or muzzle the voices of change.
Now open your eyes. The world still looks the same. Nothing has changed.

To dream is a beautiful thing,
I think it should be considered one of the wonders of the world.
But dreaming is half the work. The dream must be implemented.
The chasm between the dream realm and reality is wide but not impossible!
Let's build a bridge!
The bridge we build may be wooden and creeky at first
But with planning, perserverance and passion
We will build with concrete, we will build with steel!
We will change the status quo,
Show the world that it can do better, be better.

WHERE DID THE GOOD MEN GO?

Where did the good men go? No, I’m not asking this in the context of relationships. The common question asked by lots of single women. I assure you ladies, there are in existence.  Just stop looking for mangoes at the apple tree. However, that is a different conversation all together. I’m posing my question in relation to the silence that is ripping the fabric of society. Where did the good men go?

It’s been almost two weeks since Todd Akin, Republican candidate for U.S. Senator from Missouri, made his controversial remarks on what he termed ‘legitimate rape’. If you missed that, Todd Akin on CBS news His comments were followed by a public outcry and the feeble attempt by the Republican Party to have him opt out of the race. The man will not be moved, however. My favourite response to his ludicrous and extremely insensitive remarks is by Eve Ensler, renowned American playwright, performer, feminist and activist. Eve Ensler Huffington Post Then there are the comments made by Jacob Zuma, South African president, that it’s “not right” for women to be single and that having children is “extra training for a woman.” Jacob Zuma The Guardian

There are a lot of challenges that women face whether they are a housewife in rural Kenya or a high flying executive in a fortune 500 company in New York. I guess the field has never been quite even since Eve ate the apple. Though I tend to think it was a mango (they are so delicious).  We know the story. God finds Adam and Eve hiding and asks why? Well, long story short Adam totally blames Eve for his sin. Sound familiar? To most women, yes. We blame ourselves for not only our mistakes but those of others around us and even worse, allow them to blame us for their mistakes. It’s as though we have an in-built guilt machine.

I have not gone through rape and I certainly do not wish to. The thought alone makes my guts want to spill out. I honestly can only imagine the trauma that comes with it and for that to be compounded by the ever present guilt machine, is a horrific thought. Hence my anger at ignorant statements by Todd Akin and others like him. Where do the good men come in you may ask? Right here.  

I believe in equal rights. Yes, women should be treated as equal players in the society and recognized for their immense contribution to the world. (I however, draw the line at men bashing.) If equity is to be a complete success, then men must be active participants. That’s why I ask, where did the good men go? A lot of men say they don’t agree with the discrimination against women yet are completely silent when it most counts. Women’s rights are mostly defended by other women.

Men are supposed to provide, protect and offer leadership. Women can do all those things too but that doesn’t mean they want men to slack off.  There is a role that men are to play in the society: A role that cannot be usurped.  I believe that if men stood together with their sisters, wives, mothers and all women in the world that are just like their sisters, wives and mothers, the road to equity would be shorter. 

Good man, why are you silent when your friend gets that girl drunk and has sex with her when she’s out cold? Remember her confused face in the morning? Her terror as she got up to leave? Your friends laughed about it. How easy she was. Then they went out to try and score another one. You consoled yourself that it wasn’t rape. She knew what she was getting herself into. It’s rape. And you were silent.  Good man, why are you silent when your boss is harassing your colleague at work because she won’t sleep with him? You say it’s none of your business, but it is. And you are silent.  Good man, why are you silent when you know your neighbor beats his wife? You hear her screams every night. You turn up the music on your stereo. Even a 7.1 surround system doesn’t drown a conscience. Still you are silent.

It’s easy to look the other way when it’s happening to someone else. What happens when it’s your sister those guys raped? Or your wife or girlfriend the boss harassed? Or your aunt whose husband punched straight into the ER? Then it’s stops being trivial and easily ignored. Good men, you have got to stand up to the douche bags misrepresenting manhood out there. If you set the standards and enforce them in your realm of influence, the world may actually begin to be a better place. Simplistic and somewhat idealistic I know, but I believe it’s a step in the right direction. The war will not be won with half an army. Good men, speak. The world is waiting to hear from you.

PRODUCTION PROCESS

I can't say I like them but I don't mind them either. They are mine after all. I take time to look at them. I'm not talking about a quick awkward glance here, but a real meaningful look. I am not ashamed of them. They are a reminder of where I've been... I've become quite comfortable with them, these my faeces .

Shocked? Don't be. It's my age, right? I know, I'm a bit too young to already be comfortable with my faeces. I should be afraid, embarrassed that they'll find out that faeces and I even have a cozy relationship let alone know eachother. I should be squirming, hiding, rushing to get out of the loo as though I'm being timed. "They are probably wondering what I'm doing in here", should be nagging at me. Erm, no. I take my time. They are mine.

There are those who will misinterpret this to mean that I like faeces. Firstly, I don't like faeces(see line 1 paragraph 1). Secondly, what part of mine did you not understand? These same people will go around hurling their faeces at my face since they are convinced I like, nay love faeces!

I'm at a zebra crossing. I begin to cross. You slow down to let me. But all the while, you are honking incessantly. You even begin to inch forward in an arrogant fashion as though to run me over. I kick your bonnet and give you a piece of my mind. You stare back mouth agape. Clearly, you thought I like faeces. Hence, you let it rip and they came spewing out of your exhaust pipe. I'll say it again. I don't like faeces! And I'm only comfortable with mine.

Believe me, if I could bring about faeces extinction, I would! Not for the reasons most would think of though. Faeces make us vulnerable as they reveal us to be the dependent beings we truly are. The system must work or we are going to be pretty uncomfortable. So we are forced to go out of our way to try and keep the system working at a good efficiency level. The better the system, the better the faeces along with a smooth production process. A lot of work! But necessary.

A smooth production process requires acceptance first. Accept that faeces are part of the settings and that's that. Then do everything to make things easier on you and God knows those you live with. You know, roughage, water, regular 'meditation moments' to clear the system etc Then do yourself a favour and don't allow anyone to get away with hurling their faeces at you and for goodness sake, don't hurl yours at anyone either. You have enough faeces of your own to deal with and believe it or not, so do they.

On Tantrums.

Ok, so I have been losing sleep. Which sucks coz I love my sleep! Why am I losing sleep? After a lot of denial, I admitted it to myself. I'm hurt. There, I said it. Finally.

Of course, I am expected to be a good Christian and be the bigger person. Forgive and forget. Easy to do when you're not the one hurt. "Don't let it get to you", I've been advised. Apparently, I'm way too cool to be stressed. Stunners on and hella cool swag is all it takes to shake it off. From other quarters, I've been advised to not think about it and it'll go away on it's own. Oh and of course there are the wet sleeping bags that insist I'm being dramatic and should stop throwing tantrums. I've made real attempts but none of this is working! So I'm going to do what I should have done from the get go!

1. Cry. Scratch that. Bawl. Weep. Roll on the floor!
2. Hit something. Punch a pillow till my knuckles are sore.
3. Break something. I was thinking a glass. I'll buy one. No, three for the occasion.
4. Burn something. All those poems I wrote. Erm no. Let me give this one more thought.
5. Sing really bad karaoke.
6. Binge. Ice-cream, cake, crisps. The works!
7. Listen to sad, sad (bordering on pathetic) music.
8. Write a blend of downright mean and morbid poetry.

I wish I could get to number 10. Ten things to do when grieving. Has a nice ring to it. Hmmm and possibly book sales. People love a good ten things self-help book.

Don't judge me. On second thought, you can if you want to. For the first time, I actually don't care. For once I'm going to accept reality. I'm going to allow myself the space and time to grieve. It's my right. And I do owe it to myself. If you need some crying time, don't wait to be given permission. Go ahead. You'll be the better for it. Promise.

PS:Kleenex should start paying me... The amount of business I've given them this week!

Just A Girl

I'm just a girl. In a sea of people.
People of all nations, races.
I could disappear in that sea of faces.

These?.. These are just hands.
Ordinary. Hands.
Just like everyone else's.
They have the ability to reach out, touch, hold.
Nothing new there. To change the world.

The world that is unfathomable
Yet it somehow manages to fit in my phone!
Everyone can be your friend on facebook
Yet you can still feel all alone.
Definition of paradox?

And time? Always moving forward
WIll not wait for you to grieve, grow, change, try
If you don't keep up you'll get left behind
That's just the way it is...
Don't look at me! I'm just as helpless!

You see, I'm just a girl. In a sea of people.

People of all nations, races.

I could drown in that sea of faces.

Be swallowed whole

And before I know what's going on

I could be gone!

These?.. These are just hands.

Ordinary. Hands.

Just like everyone else's.

They have the ability to reach out, touch, hold.

Nothing new there. To change the world.

But does it have to be new?

Haven't hands been changing the world for centuries?

Ordinary hands.

Like yours? Like mine?

I'm just a girl. In a sea of people.

People of all nations, races.

I could disappear in that sea of faces.

Or I could reach out, touch, hold 

the lonely, forgotten, friendless

the destitute, heartbroken, helpless.

These?.. These are just hands. They are ordinary hands.

But they could be a reflection of the hands that created the world,

that loved its people, endured being nailed to a tree.

Yes I'm just a girl. 

But with these ordinary hands, doing ordinary things,

I can change the world.

Collector's Items

Honesty is a difficult thing because it goes hand in hand with vulnerability. Who wants to be defenseless and what happens if you're attacked? Honesty is nakedness. It involves shedding your outer shell and exposing the tender flesh beneath it. It's taking off the facade and stepping out of the cocoon. Revealing your true self is incredibly difficult because you're not sure if anyone will like it. You are on show and people are picky. Who has the patience to look again, to look longer, come closer? First impression is everything. Be in your box looking shiny and new. Hide all flaws and imperfections from the manufacturer or that could have occurred during transportation. Most who want the unusual want it because it's unusual. They want to display it on their walls so you can see the unusualness and congratulate them for having such an artistic eye. But I am not an item to be collected or am I? Are we all maybe collectors and collector's items?

Chocolate Fudge Cake

There's this line from the Natasha Bedingfield song 'Unwritten' that says we've being conditioned to not make mistakes. It's true. We have. Everything is geared towards making us as close to perfect as possible. (Like a product from a factory. Unfortunately, we can't be recalled when a flaw is detected! LOL!) There's nothing wrong with that. We are human and we must shed our flaws as we learn and grow. However, to be denied failure is to be denied our humanity.

Failure is a pleasure. I love the idea that I can try something and fail and that it's ok. It takes away most of the fear of the unknown and there's this great feeling of possessing the gift to try. I remember primary school and being pinched or given chocolates (Pen hits on the tips of your fingers. Very painful by the way) for getting 96%. Yah, imagine! I should have been getting congratulated for the 96% I got right but there I was getting the third degree for the 4% I got wrong. Did it make me a slightly insane perfectionist not easily satisfied and somewhat a workaholic? Of course not. It made me a slightly insane perfectionist highly critical of even the smallest failure on my part.

Failure is a pleasure. The minute I discovered that fact, I indulged. Heavily. Everyone knows that person that points out all your flaws and the impossible odds against you when you're trying to do something. We all have at least one of them in our social circles. Maybe you're even one of them. (tsk tsk) Look close enough and you'll see the fear. They are afraid so they have to bring you down to make themselves feel comfortable. You're trying to plan something and "You, do blah blah blah?! Haha. It's going to suck coz you're so blah blah blah.." Next thing you know, you doubt yourself and if you do go ahead and it tanks, it will cripple you. If you achieve your goals it may mean they have to do something about theirs and that will require the courage to face possible failure. No one has the right to take deny you the gift to try so don't let their fear and their limitations become yours! Travel light.

Failure is a pleasure. So sweet. Like chocolate fudge cake. You have to close your eyes to fully concentrate on that heavenly taste. Tonguegarsm. Every time I fail, I laugh at myself especially if it's a case of the blondes. It's great coz now that I know how to do it wrong, I can figure out how to do it right! I've learned to walk up to a superior in a work situation and say I've made a mistake and apologize. Of course at first I want to cover up and cringe when I imagine the look and mouth-full I will receive (especially in my field of work) but I embrace my failure and take the heat for it. With time, I have developed a positive attitude and a boldness that I must say makes the biggest hurdles seem like an adventure.

Summary? Forget about the naysayers, the odds, the doubts and subsequent weird tug-of-war conservations you may have with yourself... Make mistakes, fail. You will grow tremendously and you will realize just how much potential you truly have. Adrenaline will replace crippling fear and life will be a fun lesson. You move ahead fast and people notice and respect you. They want to know how you do it...So go ahead, eat that piece of chocolate fudge cake. You know you want to!

THE GROUND

Terribly angry and when I get like this I can't express myself by talking about it. So here I go letting it go the only way I know how.

This is for all that have experienced humanity's inhumanity.

THE GROUND
Push me. Break me. Leave me
Lying on the ground.
Use me. Bruise me. Hate me
For lying on the ground.

Pound, pound, pound this meat.
Fan, fan, fan this heat.

Drown me. Shoot me. Choke me
Leave me on the ground.
Threaten me. Abuse me. Laugh at me
For lying on the ground.

Pound, pound, pound this meat.

Fan, fan, fan this heat.

Reject me. Segregate me. Spit on me

Lying on the ground.

Ignore me. Alienate me. Attempt to annihilate me

For lying on the ground.

Pound, pound, pound this meat.

Fan, fan, fan this heat.

Fight me. Lie to me. Shame me

Lying on the ground.

Denounce me. Curse me. Blame me

For lying on the ground.

Pound, pound, pound this meat.

Fan, fan, fan this heat.

Till it grows from spark to inferno

Blazing. Fierce. Scorching the ground.

Burn me. To ashes.

Smash me. To pieces.

On the ground.

Let the earth absorb a part of itself.

Eons old.

Embrace It. Heal It.

Then watch me

Rise from the ground.

Half-Blind

I broke my specs or rather they fell apart. I suppose you could say natural causes did them in... Just wondering about the plurality of specs or glasses. Is it because it's made up of two similar parts that it's a 'they' not a 'it'? Oh well, I'm retrogressing and I'm no linguist. I'll leave that to the Philip Ochiengs of this world.

I am half-blind without my glasses. Depth of field is quite shallow ie only a small area is in focus, the rest blurry and shutter speed must be at 30 and gets steadily worse with the reduction of light at night. Walking around in the dark one night, car headlights looked weird... Like a drunk shot... Yap our eyes function like a camera! Mine wouldn't make it to Hollywood, sadly. So I set out to replace the lenses that had served me so well for three amazing years to at least make it back to Indie standards...

I haven't found anything remotely like my former lenses. They are either too intrusive, standoffish or just plain ugly! I want specs that reflect me and will keep me company for years. So the search goes on for Specinderella... Tell her or rather them that the prince twins My Eyes are searching for them. They must however, be wedded by Tuesday next week latest. (The Queen has decreed!)

I am half-blind without my glasses. I was afraid, I must admit, that I wouldn't be able to get by without my specs. I underestimated my eyes. I underestimated myself. The first day was surprisingly easier than I had anticipated. I made discoveries... As long as I didn't strain to see past my depth of field unless I was crossing a road, (I cross at least eight busy roads a day! Challenging!) my eyes did a great job and I hardly felt uncomfortable. In fact, I've gotten quite comfortable and have only missed them in my few and far in between TV watching sessions so much so that I wear them in their broken state. (I make it work somehow!)

I am half-blind without my glasses. It has made me realize four things:

• That I have always been half-blind- I have always been half-blind because I have underestimated myself. I however, have been getting by really well without my specs and this has made me trust my instincts where my eyes fall short. Strange, I feel like I know myself better. That my 'handicap' is an opportunity to overcome my real handicaps

• That to see I have to be first blind- I didn't know what I was missing in the world because I could see... A little philosophical but terribly important. Let me explain. We take for granted what we have when we have it. I suppose it's a human flaw. When you can see, you take the beautiful around you as something that will always be there and sadly it becomes 'ordinary'. Yet the ordinary is the most beautiful and after my 'blindness' set in, everything feels new. Beautiful.

• That everyone is blind in some way- We all suffer from blindness. We miss out on opportunities because we don't believe in ourselves or in others. We fail to see those that care for us and run to those who do not. We see the ugly and do not see the blessings all around us...

• That blindness is comfortable. Ignorance is bliss. At the end of the day, I'm thankful for my short 'blindness'. However, I want it to end. I need to get back to the fully-sighted because blindness can be so comfortable! My eyes are pretty and should not covered up, I'd rather not see some things etc... Excuses. Blindness lets you get away with irresponsibility. You are not culpable because you didn't see. What you didn't see, didn't happen. But it did! Time to see again. Time to act on what I see especially with my renewed sense of sight!

Open your eyes. No, not the organs, your real eyes! There is so much to see!

Nairobi Madness!!!

Let's be honest, there's something about Nairobi that sets it apart from the rest of the cities in the world. I'm convinced it's the air! Once you inhale it continuously for at least a month, you begin to exhibit symptoms I attribute to the mad Nairobi disease... The longer you take it in, the more diseased you are! You do the strangest things and even worse, expect and condone this strangeness from others! Then and only then can you begin to call yourself a Nairobian.

The following are examples of Nairobians in action!

• Rip-off- I will withhold her name but if you live in my hood, you definitely know her. She owns a certain shop that is quite popular with the residents and no it's not coz she has amazing stuff but coz she's centrally placed... So the lady that shall not be named takes advantage of this and sells her goods at almost double the price... Last week however, she outdid herself! I wanted to buy the smallest omo to wash my socks. Everyone knows it's 5bob a packet and it's standard coz they are promotional. But no... she wants to sell them at 10bob... Everyone knows she's an expert at ripping us off but we still buy stuff from her coz it's tiring to walk to the next shop! Madness! 

• Overload-If you have especially travelled in a route 48 mat then you know exactly what I mean. The kanges are magicians! How else would you explain their ability to fit 20 passengers, some well-endowed, in a 14 seater matatu? They can't take all the credit though. A true Nairobian is an acrobat hence their ability to be the 20th passenger in the said matatu! This is all supported by the society of blind policemen who only see at lunchtime... Madness! 

• WHAT?-I have never understood why some Nairobians scramble for buses or mats when it's clear you will all get a seat! In fact most of the time, there are extra seats left. That's a small issue compared to the utter inconsiderate behaviour of starting to board a bus or matatu before those that are getting off have gotten off! Last Sunday, a lady getting on a bus I was on epitomized just that! She refused to move from the doorway to allow those who were alighting to pass and they had to squeeze past her. All the while the lady was holding onto the door as though her life depended on it with her wig clutched tightly in her palm! Yap, her wig fell off as people squeezed past her! And yes, I laughed my head off! Madness!

• Aggressive marketing-you see something nice and before you've even thought about whether to take a good look, someone and then someone else have started selling it to you."Madam hiyo  top ni kali sana! Come nikuuzie..." You pick it up and you agree it's nice. "Jaribu.Kujaribu ni bure. Wacha nikushikie bag." You try it on and it fits but you aren't sure if it looks good. You wish there was a mirror around. Then they appear out of nowhere just when you've finished having the thought. Human mirrors everywhere telling you how amazing you look."Mambo baad madam! ayayaya! Cheki, iyo nguo ni yako! Usiiasche!" You end up buying it and something else! LOL! But of course after some serious bargaining... How else will they know you're a Nairobian and not a tourist?! Madness! (Look out for the shopper's guide to Nairobi. Coming soon on this blog!) 

• Shootout-Not funny but funny how shootouts occur in the CBD in broad daylight! To be considered a true Nairobian, you must have the agility to drop to the ground in a micro-second when you hear gunshots!  A good example being yesterday. There was a shootout along Wabera street at around 4pm. I had just left Doormans with a friend and just when we'd got round the corner, "kudishnyao! kudishnyao!" Funny, everyone on the street stood still and then it's like we all realized at the same time that those were gun shots we were hearing. What followed was dropping on the ground(it looked like it was choreographed the way it was synchronized!) and a mad rush into buildings to seek shelter. My friend and I got into a Safaricom shop and to be honest I went as far as going into the manager's office(an Asian lady that was quite understanding) to hide.;-) Luckily, the gangsters were caught or rather surrendered... As soon as it was over, I ran the opposite way unlike the level 10 Nairobians who ran towards the scene... Madness!

Feel free to share any more examples you have of the Nairobian species!

ink on paper

I've missed my pen
The smell of ink on paper
The cathartic release of pent-up feelings
The discovery of newness in the ordinary

Move me with the said and unsaid
The solace of its company-musical

I've missed the collision of nothing and everything
The combination of wit and lyric
The creation of timeless puzzles
Let thoughts flow freely out of me
Celebrating, grieving the only way I know

Move me with the said and unsaid

The solace of its company-musical

I've missed the conversations with God and self,
The staring at fear to see if I'll be unnerved
The long days and long nights of sweet solitude
The expression of the changes in me

Move me with the said and unsaid

The solace of its company-musical

I've missed poetry.

23

So, I have a lot to say about getting older. You know the way you think you'll know stuff... And then you get older and the stuff you thought you would know by then is still a mystery! Then you wonder if you missed out on the growing older bus and try desperately to catch it, wherever it is... Then you realize there's really no bus to be caught and you will never get to the place where you'll know everything...

So I wrote a pseudo-poem to summarize what I felt about the topic. Here goes...

23

By 23 I thought I would at least know who 'I' was(there's still me&myself to know!...)
By 23 I thought I'd be making the 'Big' money
By 23 I thought I'b be planning a wedding(LOL!!)
By 23 I thought I'd be her... Whoever she is...

But I've learned that there's no destination per say
I will not be arriving at a place that is It
Life is a journey and every step I take has it's beauty, functionality
I want to enjoy my journey and not be hang up on expectation...

By 23 I've learned that life is precious and fragile
By 23 I've learned that I can do anything if I just try
By 23 I've learned that pain is a necessity but take only your portion
By 23 I've learned that money doesn't make you happy
By 23 I've learned that friendships like seasons end and it's okay
By 23 I've learned to trust my instincts
By 23 I've learned to risk loving people and believing in them
By 23 I've learned to take care of me...

By 23 I've learned when to fight as well as when to move on
By 23 I've learned to forgive and to actually forget
By 23 I've learned to live and to live with no regrets...

And as I grow older, I make new discoveries
And I can afford to smile because after all, it's free!
Then I'm happy and proud of who I am at 23!

Bank Account

Most people that have met me are of the opinion that I'm a nice person. I've never understood the term 'nice' and the fact that my primary school English teacher, Mrs Chege( amazing woman...God bless her wherever she is) taught that it is a term best used to describe food, has not helped. However, since it is mostly used in a positive way I'll take it as such.

I love analogies because they are so visual. We remember the things we see and analogies make you imagine a point till you understand it. There's one I heard once and it stayed with me. I don't remember who gave it but I think it was The Dentist.(Joel Osteen. Seriously, the man has unnaturally white straight teeth!) I remembered it the other day and have expounded on the idea and here it is...

The bank account is a wonderful invention. Your money is safe(mostly) and earns interest and there all these benefits... This isn't a business class or an ad for a bank/financial institution so I'll stop there. Imagine the following scenario-you are hanging out with friends and you decide you want to go out and eat something but you don't have enough cash on you. So you head over to the ATM. It's your lucky day coz there's no line. What should take a minute turns into a nightmare when you're ATM card is swallowed! Gulp! You yell and curse the bank. Then it hits you, oh wait... It's expired... Remember?!

Scenario two. Still imagining. You walk into the bank(let's skip the tedious queuing bit) and head to the teller. You want to withdraw a tidy sum. You tell the teller the amount and after she does a quick check, gives you what you consider an incredulous look. She then asks you to repeat the sum and you confidently do only to be met by the same look. Now you feel insulted. How dare they! You insist on seeing the manager when she tells you that you do not have even an 1/8th of the sum you are requesting. The manager arrives, you are fuming. Fast forward to the part where the records clearly show you have never had the said amount in your account. The bank manager gives you the same look that the cashier gave you that loosely translated says, "I don't know whether to have you thrown out, arrested or sent to a mental institution..."

You cannot walk into your bank and attempt to withdraw 500,000 when all you have is 5,000! If you have not been making deposits that add up to that amount, you're crazy to expect it to magically appear! In the same way, you cannot give very little to the relationships you have in your life and then be surprised when they crumble. You have to make deposits into the bank accounts you've opened in people's lives. Otherwise(I hate this word but oh well) be prepared for them to leave...

Let's backtrack a little. So most people are of the opinion that I am nice and I guess I am. My biggest strength-I believe in people. My biggest weakness-I believe in people. I already embraced it and I think it's a blessing to see who people can be and believe in that even though they are far from it now... However, there comes a time when I must not stop believing or give up but walk away for my own good.

I'm challenging myself to make meaningful contributions in people's lives. I want to be remembered as someone that touched people's lives and cared. Really cared. I challenge you to go out and care!

COURAGE

I've always liked the saying that courage isn't the absence of fear. It makes me feel like I could be brave even when I'm shaking in my boots(literally)!

Yesterday, I was in a mat heading to school and it would have been one of those things that I always do and place no special importance on. I was staring out the window(as usual) when I spotted what to me is the embodiment of courage. This blind gentleman was crossing the road all by himself! (Argwings-Kodhek Road to be precise) It's a busy road and challenging to cross even for the non-blind. But there he was doing it!

He put his cane forward and stepped onto the tarmac and I cringed. There was some traffic but we all know Kenyan roads are dangerous at all times especially since almost every driver has a masters in overlapping... I stared and silently cheered him on as he used his cane to maneuver to the other side of the road.

When he made it, I clapped inwardly and felt challenged. I am not physically blind but sometimes I feel that way... You know when you're taking a risk in your career or a relationship... Lately I've been feeling like I can't move forward coz I can't see and I'll get run over if I try to cross the road. So I've been hanging about by the roadside listening to cars swish by and steadily convincing myself that the road is impossible to cross!

It hit me that I must trust that I will get to the other side and that I have the ability to do it! That God has blessed me with that but I must act! I choose to ;-)