To travel is to take a journey into yourself- Danny Kaye
Category: writing
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I love flowers. This was one sight of an upcoming storm to behold. -
I found myself at a crossroads.
It was some time between 7:20pm and 10:22pm yesternight when I asked myself what would I rather be…as light as a feather, or as free as a bird.
I know nothing about similes, it’s just that when you have the phrase “as…as…” you simply want to compare two different things.
So, give me a second or better yet give me a minute,
So I could tell you about what I’m feeling, in this very minute.
Stocksnap.io Let’s go for seconds and soak up all there is to this life,
Late nights thinking of where to go with a story,
Early mornings dreading what the day would bring.
Let’s go for seconds and soak up all there is to this life; the pain, anger, lust, fear, hope and resilience…give me something as long as it’s a serving filled with hope and resilience, and who knows maybe you could whip up some anger for dessert- because there is a certain kind of power that comes with rage, and I need that…something that would consume me enough to destroy me, just to remind me that I am human.
Give me a strand of compassion, one that I can weave as I please for in this world, we need love and there is plenty of it, but nothing melts the heart as compassion…so save me a strand, just a strand is enough to keep me awake at night and to get me to stop watching the news and losing sleep over how much the ammunition and pharmaceutical industry rakes in every second.
As light as…if only I had the comparison for this, something that would give my wandering mind some peace, then I’d grab a litre of blueberry ice-cream and watch Beauty and the Beast!
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And…you say that my love is like a raging fire, flashes of yellow, red, orange and a twinge of blue, flames that light up your world and burn it down to grey ashes…
You say…it’s hard to tame me.
A lion cannot tame the one who hunts and brings home the prey…a lioness
You say my heart is as cold as June in Nairobi, but hey, Nyeri’s always been cold, but even Nyaru’s never gone beyond 17 degrees Celcius, do the flowers die?
You say I am not like the other chics…now, I know nothing of the other chics, for what I carry around are my dreams, emotions, and this body that goes on the two legs that seem to get me miles away from what you say…
Stocksnap.io I say my version of events do not thrive on your validation neither do they cease to enlighten me when you choose to shun me away.
Oh, but what do I know because though I stand my ground, I still come back to you, begging and pleading and staying up late waiting…for you, my dearest blank page, are the one who consumes my thoughts, my feelings and desires, now with this heartfelt plea, would you let me be and let these words flow?
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A stocksnap.io gem! Carve your path in the silence,
Build your castle in the silence….and when they wake up, let them see the fortress that you are.
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We smile
We laugh
We stare at each other across the room
You stick out your tongue
I widen my eyes…still,
This is how we talk.
There’s that dress you want me to wear,
The red smoking hot one…the guys have got to see that I’ve got the best,
Are you coming over? I’m in the mood for some beef stew,
You can make me some epic beef stew right?
I reply “No, no and no, thank you,”
You call, you text, you send a friend to check up on me.
He tells you I am alright.
You call…ask, “what’s wrong babe?”
This is how we talk.
Snippets mess us up. Snippets reveal our expectations.
Snippets, snippets, snippets.
This is how we talk.
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They know not.
I hear the whispers, see the questions in their eyes, meet their concern in their lips, feel their pity in their footsteps. Have you ever been at something for an eternity with people constantly wondering when it’ll come to be?
Like that business you always talked about starting.
Or the trip to Mombasa that was meant to happen, then you got fired, lost someone, had to move to another apartment, got another job miles away from where you stay, started sending money home…the baby started walking…daycare lessons…
Let’s talk about every time you see her talking about the release of a new book and you go, “You know I have always wanted to write a book?”
Let’s talk about running into the noisemaker of your high school days, driving that Toyota Harrier, talking to you while twirling car keys as though you are blind to the fact that he drives and you still have to sit on a sambaza and negotiate with the tout on fare before boarding a matatu.
Better yet, that girl you always thought would be a Professor, and now she’s selling Insurance- constantly posting about Insurance plans and you just want to shake her and ask, “what happened to your dreams?”
Then it hits you that Potential is unreliable. If you bank on he’s got potential to be or she’s got the potential to be…you are no different than the one who is playing lotto, putting in some money and praying every day that they get a million, it could go great or extremely worse…that’s potential!
Press on…for it is easy to dismiss a blank page, but even Writers know that the greatest asset is a blank page, because it is screaming “fill me up, bring me to life, bleed on me!”
Thank you Stocksnap.io When you see people who are living the life you wish you could trade with your current situation, you see pages that have been written on. You see the paragraphs and chapters they choose to flaunt. You see their version of events, but even you should know something incredible…you see your work as unfinished, so go ahead and finish it. Carve your own path. Carving involves work and sweat and determination…carve away until you have a product that you’ll be proud of.
And one more thing…saying it is not all there is, saying and working towards it is a start. This is for when it seems as though you are working hard but not seeing the results, this is just to remind you that somewhere, at some time, there’s a girl with chubby cheeks who has been staring at blank pages since she was 12, and she knows that it can be done.
PS: Hawajui is a Kiswahili phrase which translated into English becomes “They know not.”
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I thrive on the silence that reigns between us.
Space.
Spaces.
A little space…some time, I don’t know how much time, but just give me time.
It is in the silence, the slight nods of heads we accredit each other in public.
“You’good?”
“I’m good,” and we walk past each other, careful not to let our feelings show up in public.
In the moments when we part, you turn and stare until I am prompted to look back and wave. It’s always the wave, a slight movement of the hand, and a smile from you.
Our friends see it. They feel it.
We ignore it.
Space.
Spaces…it’s always in the space in between, where we find each other.
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April’s not going down as I envisioned it. I know that challenges are part of life but in terms of writing, it’s not been an epic month for me. I managed to write 30,000 words of a story. Things were getting better until I sent it out for review and it was shredded to pieces!
Literally, it came back all red with one bold comment, “I thought we’d graduated from this kind of writing.” So, I set the manuscript aside, walked to Moha’s shop, bought a 500ml Fanta Orange, and had it while watching Spongebob Square Pants.
Ever since, I have not been able to write or better yet work on something else, until this past weekend where I decided to go with my gut feeling. It hurts when you write up something and it is met with such negativity, sometimes the criticism helps, but sometimes it wears you down.
I understand that not everyone would swoon over what I write. It’s just as well because as a reader I also find some genres not to my liking. As a Consumer, I stick to some products because of the value I feel they add to my life- hence my love for a sugar high with Fanta. I am not a Coca Cola person. It just isn’t my kind of beverage. So, in writing I use the same perspective to appreciate criticism.
The Crown of the Sea is out now!
![The Crown of the Sea by [Dora Okeyo]](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41mtNZTbzzL._SY346_.jpg)
It’s so short that you’ll wonder what I’m talking about in just 12 pages! Wonder what ideas will come into your head as you read this, and whether you’ll feel for the Narrator like I did, but all in all, it’s got me out of my funk and I am relaxed.
It’s free on Amazon, so how about you check it out here–> The Crown of the Sea
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It’s been a while. I’m talking about being on the road and seeing how crazy Kenyans are.
So, yesterday I was in Seme, Google says it takes 39 minutes to Namba Kosea (the red icon) but hey, I was in a matatu and the number of stops made were more than the commas I have used in this paragraph.
So, we get there, visit the Chief and then have a chat with the Assistant Chief on the challenges they are facing in that community and I’m busy taking notes. See, the Assistant Chief rents office space at the local market center and she’s right beside a posho mill, so every time she says something noteworthy I hear this vru-du-du-du….vru-vru-du-du right in my ear.
When we’re done, I ask about any local food joint because I am both thirsty and hungry and the kids running around sucking on ice jwala are not of any help! We are taken to this small clean mud house and we sit on benches and a tall lady comes to us. Her hair is sticking out on corners that shouldn’t be known to mankind, but I am drawn to the lesso wrapped around her waist, it’s jungle green with bold flower patterns. I ask her what’s for lunch and she says “chapat go’ganda, chai maliet, kuon gi sukuma, kuon g’omena hao hao.”
We all ask for ugali and omena and she serves us this:
Fresh omena, deep fried and it tastes like nothing heaven has ever served up…or that could probably be, because we were so hungry I nearly told the man next to the Assistant Chief’s office to stop powering up his posho mill! And as I was eating, my mind kept going back to soda. A cold sugar-filled drink to wash down the omena and I asked the lady if they had Fanta Passion. She looked at me and asked, “mano to mane?”
Seriously, haven’t they heard of or better yet had a sip of Fanta Passion? I simply shook my head and said it’s okay, I’ll take some of her water to drink if she didn’t mind. Now, Coca-Cola Bottlers had better increase the supply of Fanta Passion, because the people around me need to have a sip and bottles of this awesome drink!
As we were leaving the area we had visited, a lot of things were going through my mind, most of them revolving writing and as you have probably read so much about- my next book. I thought of writing about my experiences on the road and it felt so good to have such a burst of ideas and energy that by the time I got home, I was too exhausted to even look at a writing pad or pick up a pen!
Have a great day and here’s to writing!
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Happy Easter holidays! How’s your holiday break coming along?
Well, mine was just fine until I ran into the one person I never thought I would. No, it was not in an elevator, but in a supermarket. I should really stop shopping at the Naivas Supermarket here in Kisumu, but I can’t help it…they do sell braids at quite a fair price, so when a Darling Dealer shop is closed, I simply get my braids from Naivas.
Enough about that, so there I was, distracted by the books when someone tapped my shoulder. I mean it, like they did tap my shoulder a good one. So, I turn and there’s this lady giving me the complete run down, assessing how far below her status I am, and I am thinking, in terms of dressing-way below her status. I walk around town in flip flops, fancy jammies and a t-shirt. However, I am standing next to books, so I still win.
She sneers and says, “Yaani you don’t know me?”
“I am sorry, but I don’t.”
“Well, anyways, you wouldn’t, but that’s okay. I still had his baby and I heard that you ended things with him, well, a little too late, but it seems life has it’s way of making things even. Our son is six years old now.”
“Okay, congratulations,” I said.
She smirks and goes on, “So, what are you up to these days?”
“Nothing much, but I am glad you are doing well,” I say and smile, trying not to roll my eyes for real and say “bitch please.” She does not seem to be in a hurry, in fact she shrugs and then blurts ” Yaani, you seriously never married him? The way he would go on about you like you were the only girl in the world? Nilichoka kusikia jina yako yaani, and I was quite angry and jealous plus you were at some fancy school…haiya, na gari yako iko wapi mtoto wa sonko? Wait, did you pick an accent from uni? No offense but Mungu ni mwema! If you see him, say hello, I am so over that.”
I turned to see if anyone was witnessing this because it felt like a vivid hallucination. I said “thank you,” and side-stepped her to make my way to the aisle where I could buy those braids that brought me to the supermarket in the first place.
I have seen baby mamas but please tell me when you come across a sane and silent one! I mean one who is not angry at all women and ready to pick a fight if you dare smile at “her man.” She held a grudge for six years! 6 years just hoping and wishing that she would come across me and talk ill to my face, and I gave her three minutes of which she could not see through her bitterness. Maybe I could have pulled an accent…that’d be a disaster! A great one! I was tempted to defend myself and say, “hey, I was the one who left him…because I was young, dumb, in-love and pissed off when I found out he had gotten some chic pregnant.”
I reckon sometimes we remember what we ought to forget and forget what we ought to remember. I couldn’t fault her for her bitterness, but she reminded me of an experience I buried in 2011, and thank the Writing Fairies for Smashwords because I went back and 1033 downloads are something to brag about letting things off your chest uh?
And the next time you see me in boy jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops…be nice! I happen to love the look!
nilichoandika 