nilichoandika

Seven of my favorite African Proverbs

March 19th, 2015
African languages are rich in proverbs, metaphors, and similes. I grew up reading works by famous African writers like Chinua Achebe, Cyprian Ekwensi, Grace Ogot, Asenath Bole Odaga, and Majorie Oludhe.

So, today I thought it wouldn’t hurt to share seven of my favorite African proverbs:
1. Milk and honey have different colors, but they share the same house peacefully.
2. He who refuses to obey, cannot command. Kenyan proverb.
3. A large chair does not make a King. Sudanese proverb
4. Do not let what you cannot do tear your hands from what you can. Ashanti proverb.
5. The surface of water is beautiful, but it is no good to sleep on. Ghanian Proverb.
6. The wise create proverbs for fools to learn, not to repeat.
7. War has no eyes. Swahili saying.
What Reuven’s father taught me.

March 17th, 2015
There’s nothing as disappointing as what comes after reading a good book.

I am not talking about just a good book, because trust me, I know that every Writer sets out to write a good book. Do you know why every writer’s book is good? It’s because of what goes into it.

I am not saying the hours, but the process that comes with writing the book. A Writer bares a part of himself/herself every time they take to writing. This is why every book is a good book. Forget the sales, reviews, or rankings on best seller lists- trust the process.

This is why, I say that nothing is as disappointing as what comes after reading a good book and then going online to find out about the writer. I read books, and then look up the writers later on.

So, having read The Chosen by Chaim Potok , I decided to look him up and stopped at “Chaim Potok, was…” I do suffer from grammatical errors but I know the “past tense” when I see it, and it’s always sad when I look up a writer and find that they are dead.

And it hurts because :
1. It’s hard being a fan of a dead person. I know I am a fan of Chinua Achebe’s works, but even so there is always the desire to write and let him know that ‘hey, thank you for writing that book.’
2. They are gone, but their voice, style and written works live on- and you cannot help but ask, “what about me?”
But, I learned something from Reuven’s father, one of the characters in Chaim Potok’s “The Chosen,” and he tells his son:

I learned a long time ago, Reuven, that a blink of an eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, that is something. A span of life is nothing, but the man who lives that span, he is something.

…A man must fill his life with meaning, meaning is not automatically given to life.

I have thought about this for two weeks now. I finished reading the book last month, but today as I was making my way home from work, I opened my notebook and there they were, looking up at me, reminding me that my life is mine to leave, and whatever happens after, should not worry me so much so that I forget to live now.
Sleeping at Midnight, waking up at 7am.

March 15th, 2015

I am done with Indian Drama!

Wait, don’t get me wrong, it’s just there’s this channel called Zee World that airs the best of Bollywood and it is the reason why I sleep at midnight or sometimes at 1am.

I get bored with series or drama as fast as I can blink my eyes. It’s because of this that I have never watched Vampire Diaries or The Originals or completed season one of DaVinci’s demons and a list of many more series. I just can’t keep up with it all. So, this new change in my sleep pattern has me rewriting this new book I am working on, and it’s like the characters are strangers to me every morning. It seems as though past midnight my mind is alive with possibilities that seem foolish to me at dawn.
I have done this for the past seven days.

I am beginning to think about it, but nothing makes sense anymore.
So, I have decided to work on this, and make use of my time to write as much as I can and then rewrite once the story is done. I cannot do and undo at the same time. It is frustrating me.

However, I cannot stop watching the Indian movies where it seems that all actors have to sing and dance. I think they’d have no challenge being on Broadway. Since I had all this time to think about my fascination with Zee World, I noticed that there’s always fire, or a red color or just a reference to a temple in all the shows. When I looked it up, I found out that fire and the color red is symbolic to Indians, and that was enough to get me back to writing.

It is the same with most African cultures, an element of nature is considered symbolic. Before civilization, some communities worshipped the sun and they could tell time by looking at the position of the sun or the water level while out at sea or on the lakes.

So, am I really done with indian drama? No, I am going to just limit how much of it I watch since I need my sleep, and now that I know about the movies, all the dancing and references, I think I’ll be just fine…well, let’s wait till tomorrow:-)
Word of the day

March 13th, 2015

A Writer, writes!
Broken

March 11th, 2015

Jared was known for two things: he was rich and he had a beautiful wife who never said a word.
Rumor had it that she was called Cecilia or was it Sheila? She had a beautiful smile and a scent that lingered on your skin long after you had kissed her soft dark cheeks.
It was also rumored that she stayed at home. Some people said that she had a salon somewhere in town and catered to some of the wealthy women in Nairobi. No, she owns an Interior design company, the one along Mombasa road. No, she is a Kindergarten teacher. No, you people are wrong, she is an accountant. She knows her sums and divisions better than any housewife, besides with a rich husband like Jared, why would it matter if she worked?

Jared lived for two things: being adored and being in control. He had no time for surprises or arguments, and so his words cut those who knew nothing about him or his desires.
He loved his wife most because she knew how to ease out of any picture. They attended events that celebrated his work and she supported him without missing a word or a smile. He introduced her to people and she would step back and let him shine as if she knew exactly what he expected of him. It was her ability to be but not be that he loved most about her.

One night, one their way home from one of the parties thrown by the new Governor, she asked him to pull over. Her voice was small, like a child’s, or was it like a scared child’s? He could not tell. He was not sure.
He pulled over.

She stepped out and said, "Goodbye honey." And she took off her heels and ran into traffic in time for the incoming truck.
The Things Ulioko says

March 9th, 2015

Ulioko is a Swahili word which means “what’s present” or “whatever is at a precise moment.”

He is a character in a story I wrote, called Fire. He is known as the Palace Informer, a drunk and comes off as a comedian to most of the readers, and a friend asked me about him yesterday. He wanted to know, where the idea of creating a character as Ulioko came from, and why he was so funny.

I told him two things: first, it’s that I do not find Ulioko funny, but rather a mystery and second, I was inspired to write about someone who was close to the King. You have a powerful King, who is widely feared as he is respected, but to make him human or to portray him not just as a brute but also as a kind person, you need to have someone that he listens to and can laugh with.

Now, this person cannot be of the same status because then it would be a show of pride, and this person cannot also be a woman because there is his wife, so who else? And that’s when the idea of a palace informer came to mind.

I would admit that at some point while writing the story I felt like Ulioko was more of a snitch than an informer and so I had to give him some qualities that would strengthen his role in the story.

With words like:

You see beyond your nose my King, yet it still remains on your face.

He is but a man, should a cock inform every chicken of its business?

Leave the barking to the dogs, my King, please, listen to what I have in mind.

No, my King, the burden of being the one who always knows everything weighs me down. How would you know?

Courtesy is the mark of all noble men. Hand me a drink.

I cannot wait to see what I can do with a character like Ulioko, since talking to my friend and hearing what his experience was while reading Fire. I am glad that the few friends and family members who have read Fire love it, and it has urged me to write and publish a better book that’s next in the series.
A year older and definitely still wandering

March 7th, 2015

I am celebrating my birthday tomorrow with women around the world.

It’s International Women’s Day.

I was looking forward to maybe eating out with my mom, nephew, cousin and one best friend. You know, a quiet meal as I think of how old I am. Well, trust my sister to pull a fast one on me. She got me a few of my favorite things coffee, a book, a sweet card. It was a shocker.

So after signing for my parcel and looking at it, I got over my shock, and had to say:

It has been years since I got a birthday gift, because most of the times my birthday has often found me working in rural communities with children and women. I had gotten used to the messages on my Facebook wall, or Twitter messages wishing me a lovely day.
I am home this time and it seems as though my family is keen on making this a big deal.

I like this.
I like growing old because in a way, it makes me realize just how many mistakes I have made and how many promises I have not fulfilled. The greatest achievement for me has to be seeing my story #Fire in print.
It has been the greatest lesson in writing and I am proud of having seen it through.

However, I do have other dreams that are yet to be realized and as I celebrate my birthday, this is the resounding factor in my life.
I have to do two three things:
1. Get a teen organization efficiently running.
2. Work on the paper project ( I will tell you all about this, some day)
3. Complete the #Currents series.

So, here’s a happy birthday to me and Happy International Women’s Day tomorrow.
In my room

March 5th, 2015

Everyone carries a room around.

It waits to have the walls painted, windows open, floor cleaned and then furnished. Sometimes it takes the shape of a toilet where all that’s done is release of the waste. Sometimes it takes the shape of a living room where everyone is welcomed and served a drink or a meal, and people watch TV and their laughter fills the room.

When it seems like the world is closing in on me, sometimes, this room takes the form of a store room. I pile up all the stuff that I cannot handle and lock the door and throw the keys under my bed. This store has no lighting or windows, and I pass it as though it was one with the wall. This wall is melon green.

I love water melons.

They are big, juicy and sweet. I love to spit out the seeds like a machine gun, and sometimes when I forget and swallow even one seed, it feels as though I’ve lost the chance to aim at a target.

Everyone carries a room around.

This blank space that we fill with stuff.

Sometimes it is like your bedroom where when you lie on that bed, you can dream of yellow flowers or black never ending holes. Sometimes we forget to clean this room and the dust piles up…and we get an infection, because we have overworked our nostrils.

Sometimes, we focus too much on taking in stuff that the room becomes nothing but a container that is meant to take in everything that you throw at it.

Everyone carries a room around.

Question is, what room are you carrying now?
You know KCSE results are great when…

March 3rd, 2015

You see this:

Yes, I am going against my blogging rule and posting twice today.
The Kenya Certificate of Secondary Exams (KCSE) results were announced today and students from Kisumu Girls and Kisumu Day took to the streets to celebrate their epic performance.

O, the days!

I did this too, you know, back when I was in high school? We would run around singing and telling the world that we were the giants, and our mean score was proof of it. We looked forward to this day because:
1. It was a chance to get out of school
2. There were no classes
3. Teachers were in a good mood, so no bad deed was punished.
4. It was a confidence boost, because we would also ask ourselves if the other students would celebrate our performance too.

These national exams put so much pressure on pupils and schools because the hallmark of a school is it’s performance in these exams. Students seek out national schools because of great grades that allow them to join the university. I can remember always being told two things: ‘work hard,’ and ‘education is the key to success.’

I took these pictures today and felt a sense of pride because some candidates had passed exams. But even as I clicked away, I couldn’t help but wonder what if our definition of success over these years in Kenya has seen us lose out on other talents that we need most.
Jotterpad

March 3rd, 2015

I found this app at 11:45pm on Monday.
I had just settled in bed, when I decided to go through Google Play and check out some cool apps for writers.
Truth is, I was not sleepy because I wanted to write but nothing seemed to come to mind.

So http://2appstudio.com/jotterpad/ that’s the site.

I tried out the night mode, and here’s a screenshot.