I don’t know whether it’s me who loves a personal interaction devoid of phones, scrolling through TikTok or just wanting to take pictures while experiencing something.
I have failed to shrug off the last one especially when I visit restaurants that I have yearned to go to.
It only applies when I attend a music festival or live performance and my favorite Artiste is on stage- so please think fondly of me as you read on.
So, yes I would love to set up space where people can sit, chat, drink tea or hot chocolate or coffee and have a family meal as they simply catch up.
I don’t know the ins and outs of it- just popped into my mind.
PS: Yours truly just had an August #BookHaul and will probably get into these books in October-maybe.
The moon’s sister is what I would say describes me on a day like today. To most I am a pocket of sunshine, when I smile my chubby cheeks fill up-round and raised, a bit squishy for someone in her thirties.
My voice exudes calmness and it is only when you talk to me that you hear my Mother’s voice, her tonal variation in the subtle ‘uh!’ and her gentleness when I pause to catch a breath.
There is a mountain inside me and valleys within me- no they are not the same, one allows me to lift my head up high and look beyond today while the other reminds me to retreat into myself and reflect on life. I cannot trade one for the other.
Yesterday I learned another fancy word for a Writer and it’s ‘People Watcher,’ and so today I tell myself that I am an Observer, not of everything but of the little things that I could capture with words and set them before the world.
Traveling to my Dad’s home for Christmas. This stopped when it felt like the love that was there was only for what we could give and had to learn this when Dad passed away.
taken from unsplash.com
I do want to say that instead of not keeping there are some traditions that I adore and have always carried with me wherever I go and most of them were adorned by my Mother;
Praying before leaving the house.
Praying as soon as you get to your destination.
Sending a text to let those who you left behind know that you got to your destination safe- Mom always says send word, let those who love you know you are safe, it’s like leaving a light on when you travel.
When I see someone off, I stay until the plane, vehicle or means of transportation take off- it’s something my maternal grandmother held dear and passed it on to us.
Giving thanks.
Sometimes, as I get older I appreciate the little things that made me feel loved way beyond everything else and some of these little traditions I carry close to my heart.
I pondered over this prompt since I saw it at 7am.
Was today typical? More like was today same as always, for the sun – the moon- gravity maybem for anything that oscillates outside of this universe maybe it was or maybe it wasn’t.
All I know was that today was another chance at life.
I woke up. Checked my emails, got out of bed and prepped before going to the hospital.
I did not stumble upon Jessica’s book rather it was by design, because it is a poetry collection and poetry & verse is a category that is in my Netgalley shelf. I love prose yet cannot run away from a poetry collection fast enough.
Described as exploring a vast insoluble loneliness what struck me most was how I could relate to some of the life’s experiences shared here- there were instances I could picture the seven year old me, the sixteen year old me, the twenty one year old me and versions of my Mother, Aunts, and even Grandmother- their struggles, pains and how much mediocrity and insults they accepted all in the name of keeping the peace.
Like in ‘My Damned Prediction,’ she can definitely see all these, the burden that has been passed on from one generation to the next. In ‘Darkness runs, bare boned,’ speaking of the violence meted against women:
There is nothing that you can do that will satiate a man’s hunger, I promise you. Believe me I’m telling you the truth. I come from a long line of women whose skin became a casket once a man touched them.
In ‘Portrait of girlhood as a door to godhood,’ she shares a question that I did ask once, ‘why not choose forgiveness over violence?’ and I asked ‘which one came first?’
Towards the end of the collection you also get to meet a young girl who yearns to be seen, loved and listened to in ‘Abandoned letters or confessions since college.’
This was a great way to start my day and a subtle reminder that what’s written can still speak louder.
About the Author: Jessica Thiru is a Kenyan poet who was born and bred in South Africa. Her work appears in Button Poetry’s 2023 video contest, and Querencia Press’s Not Ghosts, But Spirits IV. Burning of Absence is her first book. Her poems explore the morphing space between becoming and noticing. She would like to own an owl that thinks itself a cat one day. You can find her at @leechteeeth on Instagram and @leechteethwrites on Tumblr.
It’s the fifth day of June and I was able to leave the house and go treat myself to some books today.
I already have a stack that I should probably finish but it did not stop me from buying new books. So, here’s what I got:
It’s my first time reading Abir Mukherjee’s books and what got my attention was that there’s 5-part book series, but I could only get three books, so I went for the tiebreaker (Smoke and Ashes is book #3) and the last two books in the series.
On writing: I am sending out my manuscript to the printers this coming week and I can’t wait to get my hands on that first print copy and make revisions before putting it out there- so, fingers crossed.
Honestly, it takes me a while to know when it’s time to unplug because I work closely with communities and sometimes there is no off switch. Something comes up and I often want to attend to it before I sleep- and the cycle continues.
However, when I want to unplug I learned that I tend to do three things and these are:
Set my phone on Airplane mode
Get in bed
Read while listening to any of my playlists on Spotify.
Most of the times I’ve been compelled to do these things when I can’t seem to think of a solution, are exhausted or over the weekends when I do not have work to be done.
Yes, when it’s cold two things happen: I either lose my voice or shiver to the point where this wheezing sound emanates from my chest like a symphony.
This is why it doesn’t make sense that I currently reside near a coffee plantation in one of the chilly, cold places in Kiambu County in Kenya- so please don’t ask me why…I just love my apartment.
nilichoandika 