So, here’s the deal, today’s my birthday. It’s also International Women’s Day. So, here’s more power to women.
I thought of settling down this Sunday, getting my thoughts together and writing this post but there’s no way that’s happening because I am working over the weekend and come midnight, this day’s gone! So, yeah, turning older is quite the treat and this year, I am miles away from my family so it means no Java treats! I’m simple like that[coffee+ cake]
But here’s one little thing about birthdays that irks me; “hbd.”
I have a feeling that social media has made us lazy- I miss the days of birthday cards and greeting cards and stuff like that because you do not want to know the number of times I rolled my eyes upon seeing “hbd” or worse off “HBD” on my Facebook timeline! Seriously, take half a minute and at least type “Happy birthday,” put in some work please! It’s just one day and then I’ll not ask for anything else, just type in the words…like your smartphone could prompt the words for you too, why not put it to use?
I whined about this last year, but my whining this year goes to show that not all my friends read my blog, because they’d have gotten the memo.
It’s been an interesting work/ relaxing day for me. All I wanted was to sit down, eat fish and listen to Emma Jalamo. Since moving to Mbita, I’ve become fond of the Tourist Hotel that’s a five-minute walk from where I stay and it’s got a lovely view of the Lake and amazing staff, so I thought why not spend my birthday there and just relax?
Here’s my look of “please get my fish ready asap!”
And here’s what I was served…and you know the eagerness that comes with wanting something? Well, let’s just say that I did finish the fish but not the chips 😦 because you know I had to get another cup of coffee at sunset!
Fish+Chips 🙂
I am learning that I don’t always have to be right and it’s more about understanding the other person in that particular context. On top of this, I am dealing with falling short of this lesson because I’m often wondering just what next?
It’s difficult not wanting to say “I told you so,” but all in all, I am glad that I’ve come this far and still working on my writing so that’s something.
So, I am at the office and it seems like Fridays here are the laid back work days and I’m the opposite. Monday is my favorite day of the week and Friday is the day I dread the most because people switch into weekend mood Thursday after lunch and that means very little gets done.
So, I was seated and a guy I’ve known for a while, sends me a text “Hi, look I am sorry,” and in typical Pisces fashion, I do not respond, not even when he calls or texts again and at this point I am losing my sanity because I am using my phone as a hotspot and every time he calls he interferes with the internet connection! Were we always like this? No. What did he do? Or rather what led to this?
It’s a Friday y’all, sit down, grab a drink (non-alcoholic if you’re at work) sit back and read on.
We’ve been friends for close to a year and he’d often call in to check up on work, my writing and generally how I was doing. So, he decides (this is some time back) to invite me over to his place via text “hey, come have supper at my place.” I answer “yes” because he’s making supper and that means I get to eat and not have to do dishes. He’s made supper and I eat up and then, I’m like, “I’ve got to go.”
He fidgets and says “why should you go? Why don’t you stay over? It’s late.”
I answer “No, I’ll get an Uber and go back home. Thanks for supper.” At this point he’s frustrated and decides to say how he’s got a soft spot for me and has always hoped that we’d be more than friends and I nod as he talks and then put my bag down and sit directly opposite him. I pull out my phone, check out any available cabs around his place and then put the phone down. A guy walks in, says hello, bumps fists with him and walks to another part of his house.
I ask, “who is he?”
“He’s my friend. We stay in this place with him and my bro.”
“How many rooms are here?”
“Two bedrooms and they share the other room. I’ve got my own room and all.” So I tell him I’d like to use the bathroom. He shows me where it is and while there I see Pink lotion, remnants of combed weave on a hairbrush that’s lying in the sink. There is a string running across the top of the bathroom tied to the shower that displays not one but three female panties and I smile.
When I return, he’s locked the door and says “so are you spending the night?”
I look at him and say “No, I’ll get an Uber.”
He shakes his head and says “look, I’m being vulnerable here and telling you how I feel and you are not doing anything to at least listen or open up to me.” I ask him to sit down and make sure that my pen is in my hand, in case he tries something- I could John Wick him! At this point I am scared and also angry and I realize that I am on the verge of losing my cool when he tries to kiss me. So, I push him and tell him, “You want a one night stand. You want someone to sleep with and wake up having had as many rounds as you wish and then go back to seeking something else.”
“No, I love you.”
“No, you love the idea of getting with me and it’s temporary, but here’s the thing, I can choose to let you treat me like that or I can walk away and let you continue searching for some quick lay. I’ll get an Uber and go home and you will not call, text or even try this on me.”
“Hey, but you ate what I made you?”
“Yes, if you are charging for that, I’ll pay you standard hotel rates, how much for the meal?”
“No, look…listen…”
“Good night.” I remember rushing to the door and walking out (thank heavens I was in Ngomas and all I had to do was slip in my feet and start walking). I stepped out of his place at 10pm, walked to the nearest mall, had late night coffee as I waited for an Uber and then got home. What made me remember this encounter is the fact that as I told a couple of my friends about it, the guys laughed and said “that guy had the worst night of his life” and then added that “the end justified the means.”
At that point, I could not utter much because I simmer. Yes, my anger is slow to rise to the surface but what I felt was like I had little value, for how much does good conversation cost? How much does committing to knowing a person cost? How much does it cost to emotionally invest in connecting with someone? And aren’t I worth that?
Situational ethics or situation ethics takes into account the particular context of an act when evaluating it ethically, rather than judging it according to absolutemoral standards.
It’s been over three months since the incident and he did keep off until he started sending streams of texts apologizing. Do you remember me telling you that I simmer? Yes, and here’s the other thing, I do not forgive easily. It’s my burden and often it seems like it should weigh me down, but it doesn’t because I write people off. Here’s the deal; he was a friend, he showed me what he thinks of me and I’m done. He’ll make better friends, he could certainly do without me- and I’m hoping he does.
I’ve learned that people never forget how you make them feel and I most certainly read up on Situational Ethics on Campus to know that there’s some crazy stuff right there….
It’s two minutes past ten o’clock as I begin this post. I am in the modest company of mosquitoes and my neighbor’s endless chatter coupled with dogs barking, a donkey braying somewhere…(yes, there are donkeys here) and the never ending desire for a cold shower.
I started writing a few lines of my book and stopped. So, I took to reading right after my morning work meeting and by lunch time I’d read these three books:
It doesn’t help that a part of me feels compelled to actually sit down and finish writing the book I’ve been working on since last year. Every time I say to myself that I’ll get some work done, I barely make it past a sentence and I’m constantly reading more books by other authors than working on mine.
As I was getting a cup of coffee tonight, my mind went to the thought of overcompensation and I couldn’t help but ask am I overcompensating? Am I reading more books now to cover up for the fact that I am unable to advance my manuscript? If so, what am I doing and why is it taking me this long to make headway in my writing? Why this particular book?
See, In psychology, compensation is referred to as a strategy whereby one covers up, consciously or unconsciously, weaknesses, frustrations, desires, or feelings of inadequacy or incompetence in one life area through the gratification or (drive towards) excellence in another area. [ Got that simple description here]
It doesn’t help that the first two books I read were about Muses and the last one about a former MMA fighter with ADHD.
Since then I have been asking myself am I trying to hard or not? If so, how hard is too hard?
I’ve taken walks, evening strolls to be precise and switched up my playlist and even sat down in different locations to try and make some headway with this manuscript but nothing’s making sense at the moment. My frustration hasn’t started showing and my concern lies in the fact that if it does, it’d make me one cranky team member at work and that could potentially affect my work, so I am at odds with this feeling of stagnation.
The worst part is that my Mentor advised that shelve it and then come to it later on when I want, but I am not willing to do that. I’d get snippets of ideas at work or while walking to work and jot it all down, but when I power up my laptop and click ‘open’ on the book, then it all disappears, like it was never there in the first place!
So, my question still lingers at the back of my mind, am I trying too hard with this? If so, how hard is too hard?
I put my playlist on shuffle yesterday at 7:43pm. I was writing a meeting plan and thought why not just click that icon that looks like a pair of scissors and let it entertain me?
Well, world, there’s something intriguing about shuffle. So, the first ten songs that came on were:
When Fally Ipupa’s song came on, I was on my feet dancing till I spilled some of the tea I was drinking on the floor and it didn’t help that the lights went out right when I’d gone to fetch a mop from the bathroom.
But, that’s not why I am writing this post. I am writing it for a host of reasons aside from vanity.
I am writing it because I learned that:
I have a lot of albums that I have barely listened to.
Playing songs on shuffle mode is like taking a stroll, you don’t know where the trail will lead you but you cannot help but take in every moment, enjoying every new thing that comes your way.
Songs can distract you from work and shuffle follows no theme or order, one song is melancholic the other is upbeat, it just plays as it goes.
It’s been three months since I listened to any song by One Direction and in my world that means that I have been of sound mental health for their songs are what I go to when my mood needs lifting.
Have you ever hit the shuffle button on your player? What’s your experience been like?
Kinky Friedman, a songwriter, once said “Find what you love and let it kill you,” but the world attributed it not to him but to Charles Bukwoski and ever since then…generations have come to believe those nine words as gold from Bukwoski.
Ieva Vizule/Unsplash.com
You say I come undone when the world sleeps,
You do not believe what I say but rather, you’ll wait to read what I post on my blog and sometimes, mull over it for days before you finally ask me about it.
I write, you read in between the lines.
Oh, you sweet pain…you are like a hot shower in summer,
Like being stopped by a traffic policeman the day you changed purses and your license is in the other brown bag in your room.
It’s like the persistent facebook message from that guy who is constantly saying “hi” or “hello” for a whole month.
So, I sit back and let you soak in the sun of your enlightenment.
You look at me and smile and then you ask “who is he?”
We both know that you are right, but suddenly the beating of my heart wants my mouth to stay shut, but the fluttering on my stomach won’t allow the butterflies to stay still. I sip my juice, look at the lake, swing my right leg, anything but look at you.
“He must be something.”
I want to speak but my words fail me and so you cover my hand with yours. “I would be the happiest man alive if you finally said ‘yes’ but I do not want your pity. If you choose me, I want it to be because you really want to…and maybe some day we can laugh about this and tell our kids how long it took us…”
“Hey…can you see that ferry over there?” I ask.
“You would make a great Mom. You love to read, write…and I see how you are with babies, remember the time when my niece couldn’t stop crying and you walked up and held her and just like that, that siren became silent. My sister could have married you that day.”
“The ferry is coming back this way…it’s almost six.”
You nod and then drink up what’s left of my juice. It’s the one thing I cannot resist about you. How well you know what to finish up and what to leave unto me.
“I hope he lets you be.” You say and pull me into another one of those hugs that remind me of the little things I miss about home. As we walk towards the docking station, your grip tightens and I let you…because for once I am smitten, and he’s unaware of my infatuation or should I call it interest, but this little spark cannot dim until I know where I stand with him.
If he’s not then this little spark of mine will dim and maybe, just maybe I’ll finally find the courage to let you see, what it is about you that scares me so much I’d rather run into you than away from you.
So, if Kinky Friedman is right, then maybe…just like my way with words, we’ll finally find our way to each other.
It is 1:00pm as I write this and the sun is having a family re-union here in Mbita. How are you doing? How was your Valentine’s day?
I’m asking because the last time we talked, I briefly touched on traveling to Homabay County and the possibility of relocating to the county for work. Well, my Valentine’s Day was spent on the road.
I took a matatu from Kisumu to Homabay town and then boarded another one to Mbita and let’s say my first night was hot and humid. For a town that’s bordering the lake, I’ll say that the day is hot but so far my tour of the place is limited.
Mbita, courtesy of Google Maps
The transition from Homabay to Mbita took one hour and I remember sitting in the matatu wondering just how I was going to get to Mbita by 2pm and clean the new house, fetch some water ( because Homabay county and water shortage is a one side coin), get some yoghurt and sleep. Yes, I was craving yoghurt whilst seated in a matatu and the gentleman beside me had this big green X-Tigi power saver phone and he couldn’t help but keep his conversations on loud speaker.
So, the man on the phone asks him “where are you?” and he answers “Nyangweso,” and for the love of all lies, I burst out laughing. He turned to me and smiled then the other man asked him “are you drinking again? why is it that I can hear a woman laughing?”
He clicks and sits upright on his seat then answers “I am seated next to a King’s daughter and you are talking about drinks and women? What is your problem?”
The other man laughed and apologized but by this time, the tout had already started shouting that he needed two more passengers before leaving for Mbita. I looked back and the fact was he needed three times the number he’d shouted.
Oh, the number of things hawkers wanted to sell to me as we waited, I almost bought super glue!
So, when I got to Mbita, I took a stroll in the evening and captured a two photos during the onset of the sunset. A little birdie taking a rest from flight and the clouds.
As dusk settled in, I managed to have some of the yoghurt I’d bought and watched Plan B, a movie that’s just got the right amount of serving for any hopeless romantic and it was airing on Lowladee’s Youtube account.
I am looking forward to quite a long weekend and I hope I can go exploring to see what’s great here.
The good news is that I have two huge rooms- a single mattress and my books and it’s gotten me writing again and trust me, you’re up for another short story series, once I get the details of the guy penned down. [Have you ever had a persistent dream involving a guy you randomly met? If you have help a Writer out, I think I have a crush on someone who I do not think I will meet again.]
Can we just take a moment and appreciate this moment right here? Happy Saturday world, or should I say blogiverse? Well, it’s been a minute (as Kenyans, Nairobians in particular love to say when they haven’t seen you over two years) and I have so much to share and adventures on the road that involve Chinese contractors and a bit of conversation around politics and whatsapp.
I visited Homabay county last week and in my stack of cards it means I’ll be relocating to the county to work with various communities as scheduled in my time frame. So I boarded a matatu from Kisumu and settled in the front seat right next to the driver. He was chatty and threw in a few jokes here and there but as were approaching Oyugis, this guy just slowed down and turned to me and asked “Mrembo uko na shuka?”
I shook my head as aggressively as I could because hey, I have seen to many Nigerian and Bongo films to know that no stranger is allowed access to my personal items, what if I start doing handstands in supermarkets? Or worse off barking like a dog? Eh, gaki!
So he says, “Hawa wa Chinese wanatengeneza barabara na vumbi iko hapa, hata mimi naiogopa.” I released the breath I was holding and told him not to worry about it and he does his best to shut the windows even though his window doesn’t go all the way up…he drives off and let me tell you, there’s nothing as interesting as stepping out of a vehicle and spitting dust! If there’s anyone from Oyugis…please, drop a comment, ease my tender soul and tell me to suck it up, it’s just dust!
So, that was the beginning of my short visit and turns out there’s a lot that Homabay county could serve but hey, you know a place that’s in need of a shake up, because it’s like a sleeping giant, well…that’s how I felt and still feel about Homabay.
I loved visiting the Mbita Tourist Hotel because the fish+kachumbari+sukuma is to die for and the view, amazing because I’m a water sign and a daughter of the Lake, so water’s like my feel good, peace out, chill out vibe.
My view from the restaurant, it was a bit cloudy.
Now, it’s been 21 days since I wrote anything and my manuscript progress report could easily be scored as an F, but I am not so worried about it. Given how much time I’m spending on getting things done at work, I feel too drained to write anything coherent and will have to work harder to build up on my process and schedule writing time.
In other news, I can safely say that following (10 reasons why I’m not fit to be a Fashion Blogger) I have since become a better sister, keen on the instructions my younger sister gives me while she’s taking photos of me. She’s still peeved that I do not wear make-up, my attempt at wearing a red-lippie still didn’t cut it.
I think I aced this pose, but Jackie thinks not 😦
On reading, I’ll say that I read Sidney Sheldon’s The Silent Widow and that book gave me shivers. I’m looking forward to reading Grit & Grind by Rhonda Vetere to get my mind in the frame of hard work, passion and goal pursuit.
It’s all good world, have a lovely weekend and I’ll probably share some village chronicles once I settle down.
nilichoandika 