to Sir, with love

I think staying up late has become to me some sort of religion, every day I must fall asleep the same day I wake up. It’s definitely one of the things I miss most during early morning seasons, so I guess it’s awesome that I can indulge every day for a while. This evening was one of those super laid-back evenings. Just Aunty BT, mum and I, and a whole lot of giggly lady stories and laughs… It’s ironic that our home is now a ladies’ den, because I only have brothers. I digress. I don’t think we’ve had an evening to just live and let live, laugh till tears roll down our faces in a while… Mostly you’re busy getting this done, that done, finding out whether he needs something… You know even though  nobody wants to admit it, one gets drained serving. Martha did… and I don’t think it was coz she’s a bad person either… On occasion you just need to have time to get to those things that you never get a minute to do, because between nursing and work and normal chores and classes, something will not get the attention due it. 

So today we dealt with those, the huge pile of laundry for ironing that almost displaced us from the room, shelves and what-nots that hadn’t been touched in forever…Getting ready for his return… doing chores whilst listening to Joyce Meyer and her funny practical home truths, hhhmmm…. Do your responsibility and cast the care… many people cast the responsibility and keep the care… The son who started out demanding to be given, and matured into “Make me one of your servants”. 

Anyway, we were reflecting on the last few weeks, and what we’ve seen dad work through… it’s just amazing… when I came from Nairobi soon after he fell ill I remember my heart stopping for a while. Okay, nearly stopping for a while. But here he is, talking some, he didn’t even have a voice then, eating some, gaining back some of the weight, slowly mending… I think I’ve been too engrossed with the worry of “When Lord when” to actually call the progress like it is... but I see it now… And he’s an amazing man, the other day when I had to leave him at the hospital, he was the one trying to calm me down, telling me that he’s there because there’s no other way to treat him, and that I shouldn’t worry it’s not a huge deal… 

I’m the baby of the home, and after high school I’ve spent most of my time around home, so maybe I’m a little ‘contained’. Dads are supposed to be Superman, and I thank God because he was that, and so much more… from those times when he’d jav from Eld with milk and a bunch of other stuff every Friday, leaving early Monday morning… As much as time permitted he was there, he’s always been around… And I count our family as one of the more fortunate ones…

So tonight I lay aside the worry, I cast the care, I am doing what is my responsibility at the present time. It is well. Because Romans 8:28. Si.

my hometown...

I should stop this wanting to blog on holidays thing. It makes me seem like I write for special occasions. But I guess writing is like a bathroom break, you gotta go when you gotta go. Well, I may not have the gene encoding excitement over the calendar, but 1^st Jan is one of those days even I consider. Consider, not go bananas… I used to think it was another chance at a fresh start, until I discovered it was also just another set of 24 hours, much like my birthday and all else in between. You start anywhere, where you are at the time you decide to start. And the millions of corny forwards!!! Anyway, I’m taking these genes back where I got them. I need feelings.

There’s a baby in our house today. That happens every once in never, so I guess it’s special in a way. Until it’s nightfall and the little bundle of gladness would rather cry than sleep… with a headache the size of Russia, it’s the last thing I need… but then we recall, children are a heritage from the Lord, and blessed in he who has a quiver full of them. Though I’m certainly glad tonight our quiver is full of just the one :)

 

It rained too, after sweltering heat these past weeks, and the coolness is definitely something I enjoy… May it multiply in the new year, that, and the lovely sunsets, you gotta love the sunsets in Mumias. I haven’t seen anything quite like them. Except maybe the full moon rising from the basketball court in high school. Every full moon we stole away after prep to just go see it rise, so close you could just touch it... Maybe it was that much more priceless because we were where we shouldn’t have been, but whatever… Yes, that far back. Yes, I still remember… Good times!

My pops has been sick for some time, it was bad, and then good and then bad, and now it’s somewhere in between, good health taking it’s sweet time showing up…  What that has done over time is put us in a kind of time warp, moving from one day to the next, praying and monitoring. Most days are good days :) In a way I’m thinking my circadian rhythm is way off course, when is today? (It’s against the law to drug babies who are not sick, no? Drat!!!) I keep thinking Tuesday, I was sure this year Christmas was on Tuesday, which means I went a whole week a day behind. It probably doesn’t help that we’re watching soccer at 9pm… those news guys tell us the day and time, though much good that does with only 3 hours left to the day I guess… Anyway, mum’s been a dynamo of strength and calm, even though we know she feels all things but… More than anything, I want him to be back on his feet… My lips to Your ears Lord…

Replaying Bruce Springsteen’s “My Hometown”. Seems apt to play Tree Hill music when narrating one’s life, walking down the trodden paths… Well, it’s a new year… I won’t have the flu for the rest of the year (thank God the baby slept!!)… But it’s gonna be awesome…

w00p w00p!!! Happy New Year!!!

Forever starts today...

I was gonna go to sleep, because I lost all need for sentimentalism and much ado about calendar dates. And as I sifted through my in-tray to make sure nothing was pending, I decided to write this poem. And I had to do it today. Because I haven't blogged in almost a year. In that time, I've had plenty of starts, plenty of drafts and unfinished thoughts, but never a complete post. So when I wanted to write right now, I wrote right then, and for the first time since the last time, I wrote in less than 20 minutes. maybe I was just lucky, maybe I was truly inspired, but hey, for whatever reason, I wrote a poem! A poem! A poem!

So I'll share my cliches and platitudes, because I have always believed that writing is evidence. And I must have this up before midnight, because I needed to finish it today. And no, it's got nothing to do with the calendar date. to me, it's just, well, TODAY.... :) :)

I PICK TODAY

Today is a new day,

Well, not so new, it’s almost completely done

But it just seems like today is as good as I’m ever gonna get

So I pick today

Yesterday was laden with self-doubt and questions

Standing before my those of my age set

And seeming to lag way behind

So I worried, and hid, and acted like it was all fine

When every night I cried out for a miracle

I hoped that He would see beyond this doubt and selfish ambition

And give me a story of my own to write

Sometimes when tears failed, I took matters into my own hands

But it never quite worked out how I hoped

Because, in the grander scheme of things

Nobody paints a Picasso better than Picasso

But even Picasso began somewhere

So I pick today

I pick my own beginning,

And I pick the end written out for my story

I pick trust and faith in Him who’s Word is true

Has He not said, and will He not do it?

Is there anything too hard for Him?

I pick my pages, and His truth

And I write out a new beginning for me
You say

Tomorrow is coming soon enough

So maybe I ought to wait for tomorrow

But look how much has been lost,

Waiting for the soon enough that never is

I don’t want any part in that

So I pick today

I pick my own journey of faith

I pick the people I shall chance to meet upon the way

I pick intercession for every one of them

I pick out-pouring of my spirit for the needs of my friends

I’ll start today, even though tomorrow’s a breath away

Because in that breath I can

Make someone smile, ease their burden

I can pray, even just two whispered pleas

So that when tomorrow is here,

I’ll have started yesterday

And all I’ll need to do is keep moving ahead
Occupy till He returns

 Just like I did yesterday

Because I picked today

Tomorrow is not mine to have,

So I pick today,

I pick today

I PICK NOW!!!

my dream and happily ever after

Everybody looks for so long for that moment of clarity, for that one moment you can say when you sat somewhere, or you stood somewhere, or someone said something to you, and voila! You began to live life just like that, Snap! Many are not so lucky in this regard. A few have that wonderful experience at some point in their lives, most do not. Most of us just start and restart and restart until you are either too tired, too broken or you make it. Then there is the euphoria that knocks you down when you discover something new, and just like that, you once again throw yourself into it hook, line and sinker.

That's what I'm doing, discovering something new, that maybe my life doesn't have to be the way I planned, that maybe I can have it all , maybe I can leave behind a worthy legacy, maybe I can raise myself and in turn help humanity, because the empathetic pat on the shoulder can only go so far. So I choose to believe it for what it can be, with more than a little faith, more than a little hope. My mother says not to put all these my eggs in one basket, but how many basket do I have? How many lives? Nonetheless, I know that I am not entrusting my dreams to these human beings, I am entrusting my dreams in my God, the One who CANNOT lie, and He says,

Write the vision down, and make it plain on tablets, that he may run that readeth it. For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it, because it will surely come, it will not tarry.

Trust in the LORD with all thine heart: and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.
A man's heart deviseth his way; but Jehovah directs his steps

Delight thyself also in Jehovah; and He will give thee the desires of thy heart. Commit thy way unto Jehovah; trust also in Him and he will bring it to pass. Rest in Jehovah, and wait patiently for Him...

What is impossible with man is possible with God... 

Not that making it King James'y makes it truer ;) :) but yeah, those are His words, Him, who declared the end from the beginning, Him who saw my end before I was conceived. 

 

I made my dream board slash vision board early yesterday morning as part of this programme I'm being taken through. It was exciting, like going back to being six years old and making cuttings to stick in my little scrap books,  of who i wanna be when i grow up... but also, you're like whoa! you know, you're not six anymore, you're all grown up, you know what the reality is like... isn't that too much? But He owns the cattle on a thousand hills and all silver and gold belong to Him, that is my Father. What shall i fear?

 

 

A vision board

 Me, I'll share mine when i think I'm officially done with it, maybe in a few weeks... it's crazy, but it's mine, like a child... you can't throw them away...

Faithful is HE who promised, who will also bring it to pass...

education, really????

For a while now I have been looking at the new Kenyan education system with much bewilderment. When my mother went to nursery school, for two years they went from eight to twelve to play and sing songs, and maybe learn a bit on how to hold a pen and stuff. The real education began in standard one. In my day, we went from eight to three, to learn how to write in the morning, then sleep and play after lunch waiting to be picked up at three. Now I get it that with the advent of civilization and development, carrying with it massive traffic jams and hence the need to beat them, we have to make a few adjustments. But what is the price we are paying – our children?

Picture this: It’s Tuesday morning. This family lives somewhere in Nairobi, it’s not important where; the difference more often than not is the same. The school bus passes outside the house at exactly 6.00 am, and hence Junior must be ready and on the bus-stop by then. Mum had to wake up before five to ensure that by this time she too is ready, having attended to the kids and dad so that she goes on to work as she drops off the child at the bus-point. Junior threw a mega-tantrum this morning, and who can blame him? He got home at 9pm last night due to the rains that resulted in unbelievable traffic hold up. He had homework which he had not touched, so he had to do that. Then dinner, shower, getting tomorrow’s shirt ironed, polishing them shoes… before you knew it, it was 11pm, and he was still about. I would be quite disagreeable come five am and the alarm, how much more this eight year old standard two pupil?

I grew up in an estate in Mumias. School was a ten-minute walk away, we came back home for lunch and actually had time to play. Matter of fact, I lost my shoes once, as we played on the way home, and my mother whose sense of teach-a-child-a-lesson-they’ll-never-forget was sharper than anyone I’d ever known, made me go to school barefoot. But it was easy. I woke up at 6.20 to be in school by seven, when we got older and it was 6.15, I woke up at 5.45. By 5.45 now, a child in baby class is at a bus-stop waiting for the bus. What then? Is it any shock we’re treating ulcers in six-year-olds?

 Don’t think that I’m recommending school mashinani, that we should all move from town. Even in the rural private school I went to, things have now changed. They now get to school by 6.00 am, for morning prep, then break at 5pm for tea and stuff, and then go back for night prep till 9.00 pm. Night prep, where a teacher comes to class and continues to drill more knowledge into their already saturated brains and then leaves them homework. To do at home, at 9.30 when they get there.  Education, no, slavery, maybe a little. I’m excited by the Mutula moves now, children need a break. But no, parents want to hire private tutors, transforming home into more comfortable school. So now, the child hates the holiday as much as the school term, home as much as school.

What is this you want to tell the child between 7 pm and 9 pm, that you didn’t manage to say during the day? Even if that child is a candidate. We want to hide behind candidature and the exams, when in essence all we are masking is poor planning. Don’t get me wrong, I am a staunch believer in the last minute policy, but if a teachers’ strike happens in 3^rd term and we are panicking that children will fail because of a three-week glitch, someone didn’t plan properly. I had the pleasure of going to a good public secondary school, where by the end of June all syllabi were completed, through holiday school and third term, we just did papers upon papers. And you really don’t need much from teachers; they are there to answer the questions we couldn’t. And they were not many.

I have nothing against teachers, or students, or the government (at this time ;))))) it’s the system. It’s okay if the ones affected are adult, we can manage, even though just barely, but our children, they are caught in the middle of circumstances too complex for them to understand and process, they have no say, they cannot speak out. We tell them to count themselves lucky because they are driven to school, that in ‘our days’ we walked 5km every morning and evening with no shoes on. They should not complain. But while their mouths are mum, a lot more speaks out to us, we can see the results. We see it in the infant mortality rates, despite the advances in medicine. We see it in the growing rate of childhood cancers and ulcers, in the increasing suicide statistics in children, in the college drop-out, truancy and delinquency rates.

There’s got to be a better way, surely, or else our future is bleak at best. Unless this crop of adults invents a way to live forever.