Finding God: Can a father in heaven be trusted?

'The Rock, perfect is his activity for all his ways are justice. A God of faithfulness who is never unjust'

'But how can I trust him while he is a man Ayler? How can I call him - Father- when father to me means rejection, abandonment. How can I trust him?

' He is the Rock, and as long as you are standing on that rock, you can never be shaken. '

Jesus I knew. Me and Jesus were cool. I knew how he viewed and treated women. I knew he didn't have an ego.
But this Heavenly Father. I needed time.
And so he started to mend the painful spots.

He provided brothers. Young brothers who ask me for advice. Small brothers who celebrate my wins like they were their own.
And other brothers who tell me 'Cecilia you are wrong and you need to apologize to her ' while looking me straight in the eye.

And big brothers who tell me 'Cecilia you can do this, and look at the bigger picture and think of eternity and life after 1000 years and get out off that funk you are surfing on, and tell me HOW ARE YOU?'

When I was 19. My friend Lewis bought a double decker. He said I could sleep there any time I didn't wanna go home. And when his sister came he slept in the living room, his sister took his bed. I was his sister and could I get it into my little head I didn't have bring things when I needed to visit. He said that after hitting me on the head with the coconut I had brought from Malindi.

Then Ken came from Hargesia and he took me out of the house while I was living as a hermit, writing books.

Now I ask him "why didn't you take me home with you when I gave you the option? " He says he realised I needed looking after.

Mutua found me, and took me home to his mother and brothers. And introduced me to Jehovah, answering 19 years of accumulated questions. ' how about the law of Moses?' Says I.

'Learn the law of Christ Ciss, said he.

19 was a hard year for me. But I got past it. 2019 is a hard year for me. But I have my brothers around me . And slowly, I am beginning to accept that I have a father in heaven. He is a man, in my head yes.But that's okay, I don't mind.
A man can be trusted.

' The Rock, perfect is his activity. For all his ways are justice.'

In spite of things. Jehovah can still be trusted.

Your Incomplete and Shallow Guide to Cooking Food for People Who Live Alone or With Cats and Are Tired of Eating Ugali and Eggs every night

How to shallow fry a Samosa

2019 has been a year of firsts for me.
First time I got caught by the flying squad taking a selfie in a restricted area- I thought they would shoot me for real- but I don't  want to talk about it because I will appear quite stupid and then you will not even buy my incomplete recipe guide book when it comes out.

One thing I can assure you, a pink phone cover is like a phone insurance and you should invest in one because it will get you out of trouble. The three cops turned it around and around, looked at me, one shook his head and laughted at me- I think I was looking pretty shaken.
Then asked ' what type of phone is this?' Rhetorically.

My other first was the robbery. About a month ago. We were coming from meetings and as usual I could hear my keys but could not reach them so as I was shaking my bag and searching through this enormous bag I carry three muggers came and said 'cooperate or get shot.'
The one that took my bag searched for my wallet and couldn't find it. He got tired I suppose.
There was a Banana peel inside, very ripe tomatoes and I think the milk was dripping a little so he said ' just find the wallet for me and give it to me.' At one point he was holding my phone. But when I got into the house it was right there in my bag.

My friend says it looks like a brick game.

My other first was, one day recently I got very bored. I never get bored. What I get is anxious because of all the shenanigans I need to do and end up sleeping at 3a.m because I just realised my cream lace dress would look better with a silver colored lining and here I am ripping off a lining from that oversized dress I bought to stitch in to this one that I must wear tomorrow.

I got bored. It was a very strange feeling.
Then it occurred to me that I am finally finding contentment somehow. I am less restless.

If you are still with me here's the recipe.


One cup of white flour
Half teaspoonful salt

Dhania (3 bunches)
Minced meat 800gm
One big Leek onion with green leaves.
Four red hot chili peppers
One beef cube.

How to make the filling

Put the beef in a cooking pan and stir until it starts to stick to the pan
Add the leeks and stir some more
Add oil and let it cook
You can sprinkle some water- a little, like one spoon.
Add the beef cube and keep stirring
Add salt
Add the chillies
Remove from the fire then add the dhania and stir it in.

Let it aside to cool down as you make the covers. Tuziite tu covers.

Make a dough that's light and easy to spread
Cut it into tiny balls the size of a bottle cap
Roll out the first one
Spread oil on it
Roll another piece on top of it
Press the sides all around at one inch intervals with your finger to leave room for air in and out.
Cook one side on a pan,
Turn it over
As it cooks try peeling the one on top
Now flip the sides that were inside and cook them lightly as well
Cook all sides but not to a crispy state.
Remove and cut into half
It doesn't always come out perfectly.

The more you cook the more you learn to live with imperfections and the more you start to appreciate taste over appearance.

Fold the half twice to make a pocket.
Using a paste made out of flour and water, seal the edges.
Put in the meat mixture as per size of the pocket
Leave enough room to enable you to fold over.

Take a normal frying pan and pour a thin layer of oil to cover the entire surface
Roast  your samosas on this oil.
Just slightly.
Eat all of them in one sitting.

I really think Samosas are underrated.
Let's say you are sitting over there with a plateful of chips and tomato sauce
And she is having a cup of tea na Sambusa mbili
Then you both go back and sit in front of your excel sheets.
Let's guess who will get up before 3.00pm to look for coffee and ground  nuts?

I was making and selling Samosa at one point in my life. It was a lot of work and no financial profit, but we got to eat the ones that didn't sell so. Food is a good idea. I suppose a good business is not too bad compared to selling tea picking baskets. Imagine walking around with three of those things and then going home having sold none and you have to tie them to a nail beside our door because they cannot fit inside the house.

Plot 65: A Scandal

Scandal in plot 65: When death from a teacher's beating was chosen over a suspension.

In the village where I grew up, it was normal for people to call each other names.
Think of any wild animal.
Any ugly looking animal.
It was fine.
Just don't call anyone a dog.
A dog was the mother of all insults.

If you were a student at Mitero Primary school, having a physical fight with someone and the word dog slipped out. The fight scaled to a new level. You stopped the physical fight and got into a word fight about your mothers and fathers and it got so ugly you had to call for support from boys from Kihuhīhīro Primary school, they were the baddest. They would come and beat up the side that had called the other ' dog'  and they would beat up everyone even remotely related to them.
So you could not say the word dog aloud.

A dog is called Ngui
This dog in Kikuyu is Ngui īno
These dogs are Ngui ici
Thin rowdy dogs are Magui maya.

And now it had got out that we had said that a teacher had called the standard four students 'dogs'
We had to define which dog.

"Did he say which one?" Our evening tuition teacher, my aunt asked.
'Yes, he called them thin mongrels.'
'So it was class four East?'
My cousin asked.
'Yes, but he is also our Kiswahili teacher so I'm sure he will call us too.' I proudly expressed.

I had just got into class four and had privileges. We now used ink pens and had music lessons. We ate school lunch- Supro- basic boiled githeri.
We also spoke in English.
By first term we had picked up the important phrases like.
'Please teasher can I go out.'
'Please give me a dot.'
A dot was a drop of ink your desk mate put for you when ink in your pen ran out.
So I felt important, superior and better than my cousins who were still using pencils to write. Casper was speaking Kiswahili , being in class three but Kui was still learning Kikuyu syllables in class one.
 N na G na W na A - Ngwa
Ala na E - Le
Ngware
Ngware is Guinea pig.

That's how we were educated. You first learned Kikuyu as a language, then the teacher used it to teach Kiswahili as a subject.
Then you learned Kiswahili as a language and it was used to teach English as a subject.
 Then in standard four you started to learn English as a language.
What you spoke after that was basically up to you. We mainly spoke Gīnglish, a direct translation of Kikuyu to English.

So I proudly told my cousins the teacher had called the students dogs in English.

The most reserved teacher in the school had called students- Magui.

So here were are, Casper and Me in the staff room. He is begging for mercy from his teacher.

He is a class behind me so his class teacher is dealing with him. But I am in class four and I have to speak English and this is a case for the head teacher. The headmaster might write my name on the Black Book, and my criminal record will remain for generations.

Meanwhile one teacher is saying
'Surely Shishilia, what will your grand mother say? You used to be a good girl, what happened? Umemea pembe?'
I want to tell her
'Mwalimu tafadhali niue tu.'

A death from a teacher would be better I figured and would have told her as much if I wasn't completely tongue tied.
I was angry at my cousin.
How could he have let this out?
I was thinking of the many ways to make his life miserable once we managed to get out of this without having my grandmother come to school.
That was the priority . Shushu could not come to school at any school.
I could just imagine appearing at the gate and finding my Shushu getting into the sheep's pen with a load of weeds as high as herself and me telling her 'I did something wrong you have to come to school .'
Anything but that.

'Eh, all the books that have been written you have finished! All that is remained now is to talk about teachers. Weeee, chunga sana.'
She would say
Then she would start a prologue
' you children, play with education. Play with education completely. Me my father did not take me to school. That is why I have to scratch this ground from morning to evening with this panga. You you want to play. Do you have a shamba? Me my husband got me this shamba. You where will you do if you don't read? Eh? Me if I had read I would have done better, so it is your loss if you don't want to read. Me my work I have done. Have you ever slept hungry?'
'No.'
The lecture went straight to the brain and made you feel more pain than if she actually took a rod and canned you.

Now I was in the staff room being caned. This hand, then that hand, then  some more scolding from other teachers.
Casper pleading for his life
'Mwalimu please usinichape sitarudia kusema uongo.
We had lied, we said.
The teacher we had spread the rumour about now to took us out of the staff room for proper questioning.

'Shishilia, did you hear me call anyone Mongrels.'
'No teacher, someone said you did.'
'Who is this and what class are they in?'
'Mwalimu this person is not even in this school, so I am sure it's a lie.'
I was not going to say where I had heard it from.
The upper classes had a mobile library. I had managed to wriggle my way into borrowing story books at lunch time. So, I heard things.
I shot my cousin a glance again to tell him 'dare you say this is not true.'

'My aunt from Marmernet told me. '
Said I.
'What is the name of this aunt?' The teacher quizzed
'Leah, ' said I
'  She was a student here, many years ago.' I continued, 'and when she came to visit us and I said the name of our Kiswahili teacher she said that.'

'When will this aunt come again?'
' Maybe At Christmas Mwalimu but she was pregnant so she might not come this time.'

I am sure he read through the weak story line but I had given it my all.

'You will have to go and call your Shushu to come.'
'Woooi Mwalimu please we are sorry. Beat us. Then punish us.
Please please please don't ask us to call Shushu.'

We got off, I thought we got off easily and we didn't talk about it until two days later, on coming home I heard Shushu telling her friend.

'Shiriba, these are not children. These are trials. What shall I do? I will die completely.'
And Shushu Shiriba was saying.
' Ah, children? Children are like that. They lie sometimes but they don't mean harm.'

'No no aaaai. They will make demons come out of me!'

I knew that suddenly, the peace had vanished from our home. We were finished.

Shushu is smart and she can play with your mind hadi you tell her things you didn't intend for her to know but because she is acting like she knows everything you just confess.
So for two days she didn't say anything, until Friday night when she was putting us to bed.


I was the eldest so when the two slept a flood of pinches fell upon me.
' You hypocrite of a child. You think I don't know! You think I don't know anything! You have embarrassed me this entire region. What kind of a child are you? Do you have a good head? Eh? I'm asking you? What is this I've heard?'
So the story came out
I couldn't try the story about Aunt Leah on her. So I told her the truth.
I had heard it from a boy. The boy was in standard seven. This was his name.
'Eh? What business do you have being with boys! Let me ever catch you listening to boys. Ihīī? Look at her! '
A few more pinches. A few more dirty looks. Then she added ' from today I never want you to listen to boys stories. And women stories too. Mind your own business.'


Many times, after my cousins left and I was alone again. My Shushu would be in the middle of a story with some woman, I would be sat there, one hour, two hours and I was not supposed to listen.
I learnt to day dream. I guess that is the reason why I end up zoning out when I am with my people. I could be sat in a group of people and I have no clue what they are talking about . I rather prefer it though. I can swig in and out of small talk without commitment.

Casper got his beating the following day. He was given a different  law , to keep things spoken within plot 65 in.

How the story got out was, being the newsmaker he was, he decided to find out whether the teacher called students other insults apart from dogs. And who better to ask than the teacher's daughter. Lol.
We had suddenly become the scum of the earth, but it only lasted a short while before we did something else more bigger than the one before.

Shushu Shiriba suggested my Shushu to join her church so she could attend Wednesday prayer meetings, an advice which she took as we reached adolescence and became bigger trials.

Tell me about yourself

I went for an interview last week and the following day my entire body ached. I didn't get the job but fair enough. When I got in and sat in with other hopefuls, I thought  why am I here? I might as well have applied for a job at the slaughter  house.

So Cecilia, please explain to us how to slaughter a cow.

Well, first you get some scissors. A shaver might work but you don't want to startle the cow too much.
Then you tie the cow to a tree or a pole. Then shave a clean line around the cow's neck, about two inches wide.
Then wash off the shaved hair.

So I turn to the man on my left and ask him what did you sign up for? He says volleyball.
The girl in my left, rugby
The one next to her is a boxer
And the two playing a quick game on the table tennis are dressed in Athletic's Kenya approaved sport wear.
I'm sitting here in my city librarian clothes, and lipstick and I'm sure I'll fail this interview
Should I just go home?
I have tights in my bag and a top I bought yesterday written Addidas on it, And a swimming costume.
In case they ask me to swim, Coz I said I'm a swimmer.

They said carry sports wear.
Ok maybe my email said carry, but everyone else's said come in sports wear.

When the interview begins my hopes begin to rise. It's a question and answer session and then a team workshop. I am in a team with the rugby girl and the boxer, the volleyball couch and some quick thinking boy that knows all the answers. There is another boy too. I think he said he is a runner.
I decide this is it, and give it a good go. The one I
At least something I can participate without having to move about.

They later ask us to change and get to the field.

I have a slight panic.
It's now sunny and I was hoping I'll be tested for swimming.

But we are going into this field
I fear balls
And cages
And many people in a cage running after one ball.
I never played crowded games.
When I have been in a swimming pool and someone decided oh let's add to this madness, and they introduce a ball. That's my cue to go out and read a book.
And here we are in a cage and rugby girl is shouting to me
'Macho kwa Mpira!'
Several times.
I can't see the ball,
And  my glasses might break.
I don't wear glasses but just imagine if I wore glasses. There would be no saving them here.
How do you see such a tiny ball when everyone is running about with such excitement.

But they give us lunch after and we begin the one on one interviews.


It's also then that they tell you you are hired or not.
I liked that.
What's the point of sending me home to wait for two weeks just to tell me I didn't qualify.
So my interviewer said I was a great team player full of ideas but I lacked vitality.
I didn't defend myself.
I didn't tell him I exercise once a month, for five minutes.
But he said they were looking for someone fully involved in swimming who could guide buyers. A Michael Phelp of sorts.


I cried in the matatu. Because I was the first person in it and the next passenger came 25 minutes later so what was I to do with a whole half hour?
 I was disappointed, but not in a - not again I'm never even gonna get a job way - just, man this is taking longer than I expected and this is September Jehovah tufanyeaje sasa?

On the positive side of things I have had two great interviews, Opera News was very professional we only disagreed on   working  hours. Decathlon was great for quick feedback, and for both I felt it was a matter of getting the right person for the job.

Not those jobs you start where everything fits in the right places and two weeks after boss turns to you and asks 'halafu?'
'Halafu what, stupid man?