This Chic: Opening up conversations with debate conditioned Kenyans.

 I watched a TV Talkshow last week about 'Why the modern woman cannot seem to find love'

The poll question wanted the audience to text back and say who they thought was responsible for failed relationships. Men or women?

Yeah.

They asked that.

Anyway.

I watched the show, on youtube because one of the guests is a girl from my village, Nyambura Mundia.

This girl, I met when I was probably in class seven and she was in class four and someone pointed out to her as the girl who had beat my cousin at Poetry Recitals. Or it was something impressive like that because my cousin was a boy and taking all the public speaking and recital medals home.

When I saw her the next time, I remember taking a really good look at her. I had not seen anything like that in the whole of Endarasha. 

The self-confidence. 

She walked like the whole world was waiting on her to arrive. Step by step like she had bodyguards around her. Like she had an important mission and it didn't matter that she was a woman, she was the only one commissioned to deliver it.

I should say I had goosebumps but I didn't, I was just intrigued. It was my first time to observe a person in a Zen state. To make it more interesting, she was a dark child. And in Endarasha, you were beautiful only if you were light-skinned. Yet, unless your genes came from very strong brown-skinned people, the frost in my village bit your skin until you were a nice shade of dark blue. So of course, any light-skinned person was actually, yellow yellow not just earth brown.

But I could tell that this girl had no such whims.

I met this girl, later on, 100 years later, in my estate. She had the same walk. We had never been introduced so, I just let her walk past and later on Facebook suggested her as a friend and I accepted.

She is the Host of Swaiba Podcast, an open space for women to discuss issues that matter.

As the TV show proceeded, I kept thinking to myself. Is anyone listening to this woman? Can't they follow her flow of thought and realise that she is simply opening up the conversation?

My friend once commented that Kenyans lack conversation skills and I wondered 'ai, what do you mean? Kenyan's love to talk.'

Yes, Kenyans love to talk and hear their own voices, but it's rare to find a Kenyan who listens.

I guess that is why we have a had time discussing issues like mental health, relationships, violence, career and even finances.

Every topic is turned into a debate.

 Every idea is contended.

Very few people are willing to just have a discussion and let the conversation take any direction.

"I must win."

Is probably what some are thinking whenever a topic arises.

Why can't we just, have conversations? Where if you are right it's okay, if you are wrong it's okay but let's keep talking.

But if we continue to base every chat on our past beliefs and experiences, we lose out on so much because the dialogue is blocked.

As an infp personality type, I crave deep conversations and connecting with people on a mental, emotional and intellectual level. An achievement of that is at the top of my Maslow Hierarchy pyramid.

I wish Mwari wa Mundia all the best in her next session, may you remain as calm as you have.

You are welcome to join in the random tea chats I have on Instagram from time to time. 

CLICK HERE

or  HERE

My Happy Large Content World: Choosing Happiness

 In a year of isolation and social distancing, I have come to appreciate what the adults in my life did to make life enjoyable and full of surprises. I’m thinking about my grandmother frying mandazi on Sunday evenings so we would have something for breakfast the following week. 

Or my mother saving up to take me to the park, or my uncle planting a new tree in the middle of the farm and one day calling us to go see when it flowered, or when it had ready fruits. Like the guava tree he planted in the middle of the Napier grass fields, and the surprise we got to know that we had guava on the farm.

As an adult, an adult living alone. It is very easy to get into monotony and life can become quite saltless.

And I have had to use my brain to make it exciting for myself even after being indoors for a week, two weeks.

It doesn’t take much, but I have realized that even simple morning routines, evening routines, taking a different route when I take walks, cooking a meal with my whole senses involved, take the monotony out of life.

Having live chats with my friends and family has proved to be the best way to get to know my friends and acquaintances better.

I am learning to make life intentionally interesting for myself. I know someone who buys herself flowers and I think that is cool. I don’t, I pick wild ones. But I take myself out for tea, at least twice a month.

Are there things you do, as an adult living alone or with cats do to maintain the surprise element in your life?

How to Successfully Excel in Mediocracy

 A step-by-step guide to accomplishing everyday tasks in the most mediocre style.

You will also learn how to set up your own achievable mediocre worksheet,

and how to ensure mediocrity in every aspect of your life.

We will also learn how to bake salted brownies. 

Embracing Vulnerability: Knowing my worth

Have you ever felt like you have been waiting your whole life to be picked?

I know I have.

No Sorry, I don't mean being picked by a guy.

I mean by life.

Like you are just over here behind everyone standing on tiptoe trying to see the front while frantically waving

your arms  saying 'Pick me! Pick me!' But your turn never comes?

As last year was coming to a close I started to think about how life picks us to show us off on a platform.

I also thought about how people pick each other to be present in their lives . And things that determine how the picking will be done.

By default, sometimes there is a pecking order.

But in my life I have noticed a pattern.

I confessed to a friend that while I was busy trying to be picked by some people I expected to be in flow with, Kumbe I had been picked elsewhere.

Kumbe there was a whole Ciss clan surrounding me, speaking my language and having the same taste in stirfried spinach as I have.

And this has brought a huge positive enthusiasm into my life.

I have been thinking about this since I finished reading 'The Joy Luck Club' by Amy Lee. 

Then when my friend posted this picture on her status and asked people to say something nice about me, it got clearer.

@himbz took the picture

 

When I started  to see the comments  it hit me that:

This is profound so listen carefully.

It hit me that:

1.  I may have been spreading myself  out too thinly.

2. I really really need to know my worth.

In the search for solid relationships with people, I have often ended up spending just a little time with too many different people that I don't spend enough time with those who have picked me as well.

How do you know someone has picked you?

They ring you up and ask if you managed to make anyone's hair this week.

They send you memes

They respond to invitations to have chips mwitu by making definite plans.

They respond to your texts and not leave you hanging for two weeks wondering - did I say something dumb?

They tell you they are praying for you.

They see your status and send you a laughing emoji.

They come to your house and wash vyombos after eating rice ndengu.

They meet you in town to pick up their deliveries so you don't have to spend extra cash.

And I did more thinking and thought that maybe oh well life picked me but maybe by my breeches.

But now how do I know my worth?

In the book, whats-her-name- is given a jade pendant by her mother and she's told, know your worth. But her mother dies without explaining what that means.

She thinks it probably means she needs to try harder in life because she has it in her.

When she was young her mother made her learn how to play the piano but she hated it, and when her mother stopped forcing her to practice and told her' you could do it if only your would try.' I felt like I know exactly what the mum meant.

Not to give up too easily.

I know I have. And my Shush once told me the same.

I had got a big writing gig and put my heart and soul into it then in the middle of it my laptop crushed and I cried for a few hours.

'The problem with you is you give up quickly.'

It's  true. I crush with all my disappointments.

But I also get up again and again and I bet that's where my strength lays.

That's where my worth is.

That no matter how many disappointments come along. I get up again. As soon as I stop crying.

Maybe my worth is in how many times I am willing to try.

I have the attractive option of crawling under my bed to die. But I fear I would get hungry and gnaw on the wood.

So it's  better to just keep getting up.

Keep discovering what is my true worth.

How many carats I am.

And I will keep picking those who pick me.

Those who drive to my house on an early morning to check why there is fire coming out of my computer cables, those black ones over there. Mimi sijui nini mbaya nimeona tu zimeanza kutoa moshi.

Those who let me record my experiments using their expensive gadgets.

Those who don't let me dismiss the question 

How are you?

Because they want to hear the answer.

Perhaps I am not waiting for life to pick me.

Perhaps I got a better deal.

To choose the life that works for me

This chic: I don't think I'm ready to get back into Society.

I've been thinking that may be I'm not ready to get back into society.

That things are fine as they are. No house calls no parties and no socialization pressure.

That if we really need to be together in future we can just do a video call or something  without the videos because I have to think about my background and my resident cat's tail swishing across the screen randomly.

I know he knows exactly what he's  doing. 

Just as he exactly knows that he is winking at me when he does.

I always wink back 

Then he winks again

So I wink back 

And then I think

Oh gosh if someone was watching they would be really spooked by this.

So I say in a loud unnatural matronly voice.

'Cat didn't you just wink at me or do you have something in you eye?'

And then I go off to do something else.

The reason I am hesitant to get back to society is because I know people I used to know before corona will say.

'Oh my gosh you are so thin you haven't been eating!'

And then I will go on to defend myself that I am eating it's just that it's going to the wrong places.

"Just look at my Mluhya Legs."

And the person will ignore that and completely ignore my strong Mluhya Legs and say how I should eat more and how the bones below my neck are protruding.

I will by then be feeling a little worked up and in my heard I will have different retorts. 

'You missed my Adam's apple too, it's much more pronounced since I lost weight around my neck.'

'How much food have you fed me this corona and I threw up after eating it?'

' Do you want to run from here to that kibanda over there and see who needs to be healthier?'

I don't get humans

“Whhhrrrr . . .” said Arthur Dent. He opened his eyes. “It’s dark,” he said.

“Yes,” said Ford Prefect, “it’s dark.”

“No light,” said Arthur Dent. “Dark, no light.”

The recliner stars by @Paul Ngummi.

One of the things Ford Prefect had always found hardest to understand about human beings was their habit of continually stating and repeating the obvious, as in It’s a nice day, or You’re very tall, or Oh dear you seem to have  fallen down a thirty-foot well, are you alright? At first Ford had formed a theory to account for this strange behaviour. If human beings don’t keep exercising their lips, he thought, their mouths probably seize up. After a few months’ consideration and observation he abandoned this theory in favour of a new one. If they don’t keep on exercising their lips, he thought, their brains start working. After a while he abandoned this one as well as being obstructively cynical and decided he quite liked human beings after all, but he always remained desperately worried about the terrible number of things they didn’t know about.

“Yes,” he agreed with Arthur, “no light.” He helped Arthur to some peanuts. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like a military academy,” said Arthur, “bits of me keep on passing out.”

-The hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

Thin people are people too. 

#surfboardprofile.

I know I was born in the wrong continent where having a little more meat especially on the backside and on the thorax area (@Markreen calls it thorax so let's go with that) eclipses everything else.

Personality, positivity, clear Brown skin, agility, shinny nails, even eyebrows,shapely knees.

I would like for once someone to come and do a Jane Austen on me like 'oh, what shapely ankles you have miss.' I will appreciate that very much.

Or ask me about my nutrition, my exercise habits.

It's not always about lemon and starving yourself you know?

As me about the books I'm reading, the plants I'm growing. 

I do think I'm ready to go back into society though.I still got my aunty acid sarcasm intact.Although I never really need to use it at such instances because I've come to know that people will jab at you to try and cover up their own insecurities.

And I don't want to be the one that breaks them. 

I am a nice woman.

As long as we talk about things that really matter.

Like being alive, still.

My aunt told me I've even grown shorter.

'What's  wrong? Are you not eating? Now and the way Kikuyu you can get fresh food why are you not eating?'

So I googled.

'Is it possible to grow shorter?'

Yes you can, because of loss of bone mass, but when you hit 70. 

Not because of not eating enough.

I don't go round telling people 'you are fat, are you eating too much? ' 

'Look at all the meat falling out of your waist'.

Coz it's rude. 

It's rude both ways.

Permission to take off?

I'm an alien. A thin alien. Happy to be alive in whatever body I have.

This is my body shaming rant.

Aliens on planet Africa. 

Y'all wanna be thin anyways.

Romain Virgo - Who Feels It Knows It | Official Music Video

This song makes so much sense to me this year.

Who Feels It Knows It

Romain Virgo

This one is fi all a di hard working people

Jamaican people

Some nuh know what it feels like

Fi a work from six inna the morning straight up to midnight (midnight)

A me fi tell yuh

You think it easy fi Barba stand up inna di shop whole day

And nuttin nah gwaan

You think it easy fi farma stay up inna di sun whole day

A plough the farm

It no easy being offender nor a taxi man noo

You think it easy fi stand up and watch di youth a cry fi food fi nyam

But a Who Feels It Knows It

We a feel it from we likkle and a grow

A Who Feels It Knows It

Sometimes you feel like fi let go

A Who Feels It Knows It

We a feel it from we likkle and a grow

A Who Feels It Knows It

A only Jah Jah know (only Jah Jah know)

You think it easy fi know seh early a morning that you a come fi the rent

When deep dung inna yourself you know seh

You dont have a cent

You know mi feel it fi di youths dem wey haffi sleep on the street

Dem no care fi di youths dem

And a long time mi seet

So a Who Feels It Knows It

We a feel it from we likkle and a grow

A Who Feels It Knows It

Sometimes you feel like fi let go

A Who Feels It Knows It

We a feel it from we likkle and a grow

A Who Feels It Knows It

A only Jah Jah know (only Jah Jah know)

Yeah

The way di system set up

No help poor people no way

But poor people nah go give up(nooo)

No matter how it stay

We still hustle and fight it (hustle and fight it)

All when we no like it (when we no like it)

Still working on an on

From dust till dawn

Sooo

But a Who Feels It Knows It

We a feel it from we likkle and a grow

A Who Feels It Knows It

Sometimes you feel like fi let go

A Who Feels It Knows It

We a feel it from we likkle and a grow

A Who Feels It Knows It

A only Jah Jah know (only Jah Jah know)

Yeah

You think it easy fi know seh early a morning that you a come fi the rent

When deep dung inna yourself you know seh

You dont have a cent

You know mi feel it fi di youths dem wey haffi sleep on the street

Dem no care fi di youths dem

And a long time mi seet

But a Who Feels It Knows It

We a feel it from we likkle and a grow

A Who Feels It Knows It

Sometimes you feel like fi let go

A Who Feels It Knows It

We a feel it from we likkle and a grow

A Who Feels It Knows It

A only Jah Jah know (only Jah Jah know)

Yeah.

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Donovan Germain / Romain Virgo / Shuana Kensie / Bunny Fletcher

Pandemic Fatigue catches up with a cowardly courageous woman.

My second last roll of tissue rolled and fell into the toilet this morning.

Great.

Now, on top of calculating how much nutrients my body can absorb from sorghum porridge I have to watch how many boxes of toilet paper I use per visit.

I should have paid attention in Tanzania maybe I could have figured that water in a jerrycan hack.

Else, not being a newspaper buyer I have to start thinking about which of my many notebooks have the softer paper.

It's like that time primary school when my two last tissue rolls fell into the bucket of water I was keeping at the bottom side of the bed. 

I went to the assistant matron with the dump toilet papers and told her I was out. Bless her heart because she managed to get me a roll from the ones they kept for the younger children.

I have ran out tights as well. I have basically been doing rounds in tights and many months down 2020 I am now left with one decent pair which I can't really go out in because it's really a man's tights. It has open pockets in front . That's  how I figure it is men's wear. This is really a strange year, it's long since I wore out clothes. Five pairs to be exact, or maybe I didn't notice because when it was normal to roam I'd come across tights wherever and buy, discarding the faded ones. these ones have holes and lost elasticity and can't even be used as rags.

I've started showing up at the salon in my Sunday dresses that I almost look fresh.

Like I just moved to Nairobi from Kamwakwa where I was working at a timber sales or co-owned a printing shop.

Anyway corona will show us.

I have been wondering what's wrong with me.

Now I know I have pandemic fatigue.

I am trying my best to stay safe but  I am becoming complacent I no longer kick and bite when the conductor tells me to songea huyu kuna wenye wanashuka pale mbele.

Move a little, some people are getting off in the next stage.

I am using the 10bob masks even though I know they are one ply.

I don't wipe down everything quite as vigorously as before.

It's  hard to get into bed

It's  hard to get out of bed

Sometimes I feel a sense of dread so strong It feels physical.

I've stayed awake praying

I've stayed awake sobbing

I've despaired

I have called down hell and damnation to several annoying people

I've spent a whole day in bed, waking from one dream to another because, I just couldn't face the day.

 So I spent the night googling depression symptoms.

But.

I've got up 30 days in a month, sometimes 31 and lived.

In the Samurai's garden, there is a quote. 'It takes more courage to live.'

So I guess, in spite of things I am courageous. 

A cowardly courageous woman.