Friday, July 26, 2019

Self care and my steps to living mindfully: How pride and independence affects your thankfulness.



Independence

I have always been an independent woman. I take care of my bills, I take charge of situations and most times I really do have enough to not need extras from other people.
I grew up having more than most kids my age had and often, my grandma would be giving away clothes I was barely out of to neighbours for their children.

When I got into college, the universe shifted a little. Here I was thousands of miles away from home trying to figure out new currency. I was in class with kids whose parents served  in the government or in the military. The rest belonged to a ruling class in Western African countries and had real titles like Prince.
They drove Audis, Jeeps and other big cars. I rode in the free bus provided by the state I lived in. Sometimes I got home late when the bus driver, seeing only Africans at the bus stop sped off without stopping.

At times I shared a cab with the Iranian man and the girl from Kuwait in my Broadcasting unit who lived downstairs.

My housemate was this sweet thing that was studying design and she made the house quite comfortable. We had rugs and cushions and differently colored walls.
In my second semester, I still had not bought any new clothes. I was still wearing my khakis and gray Tops and brown coconut husk bangle to class.

One evening she handed me a shopping bag with new shorts, a new huge top and a new handbag.
That was the new style.
I would have looked quite hot in the outfit.
Within the week she gave me a maroon dress.
My deskie in Communication unit teased me and said I must have a boyfriend else why did I so suddenly start wearing dresses to class?

The following week my housemate invited me for dinner at the boathouse. I said yes then said no thanks when she said- my treat.

Pride

I didn't want to be given all the time.
It was making me feel small.
And beggarish
So I told her 'don't give me things anymore since I have nothing to give you.'

Yeah. I said that.

It was quite offensive to her. She was Arab you see, and Arabs, at least the ones I know believe in sharing and distributing and what you have is mine and what I have is yours sort of set up.

I still didn't learn.
And even when things have been tough other the years I never learned how to accept things from people. Because - sasa atanionaje-

When you don't ask, people assume you are fine.
When you say no thanks I'm ok people stop trying.

When you feel you are in a superior position, the benefactor, mfadhili and the source of all good things, you get to a point of intense independence that no one can pull you out from. Independence breeds pride.

'I don't need anything from anybody.
I have everything I need.
People thank me, for my gifts.'

But you really miss out on a crucial human element of interaction.
You never learn to say thank you.
You never lack anything so intensely that the moment you get it you really would like to do a dance around the house.
Or really give the person that 'sorted' you a good firm handshake full of thanks.

Your relationships don't run deep.
And you start to develop :


Entitlement.

You feel like the world owes you.
Your parents owe you.
Your siblings owe you.
Your boss owes you.
Your neighbours owe you.

If they do not bow and curtsy whenever you pass along then they have personally attacked you.

We of course don't bow anymore but there are other ways.

How important is your opinion?
How readily do you force it down others throats?
How do you feel about those that dismiss your opinion to only buy Whiskas for their cats?

Lack of exposure

When you are independent, possessing high opinions and possibly unaware that you fit the description of a proud person, it's very likely you live in a bubble.

You have no idea that if you came home one night and realised you don't have matches in the house you can simply knock on your neighbours' door and ask for three matchsticks and it would not make you a beggar.
So you go to bed hungry or call an Uber to take you to the mall for matches.

I have missed on many opportunities to show gratitude when I was too quick to say 'no thank you I'm fine.'

Friendships

How do you maintain friendships without any of you taking advantage of the other?
I at one time had the faulty idea that friendship was better maintained by only meeting up when both of you were in their best mood, dressed up in your best dresses, with purple lipstick.

But I have learned that true friendship also thrives on gratitude. And gratitude, in turn, grows out of periods of needing each other.
You know when it's date 17 when you would rather not have visitors because you only now have that brown chapati flour and two garlic blurbs in your vegetable shelf but your friend appears in your house with a bag of soko ugali and a bunch of edible greens?

Or when you have been biting your nails because you said something stupid to your friend and you are not sure if you will be forgiven and you are too old to start making new friends so you just sit there calling yourself all sorts of names Coz you blew it.

Then your friend sends you a whatsapp meme and asks you if you want to work together on Thursday and you realise you are forgiven?

That kind of gratitude.

Coz yes you needed that maize meal and yes you admit you said something stupid but you are willing to never be stupid again. Because you treasure this friendship.

You don't learn gratitude in theory. It is not from perfunctory thank you phrases in high pitched voice.

You learn gratitude when you learn to cohabit with other living beings.
Because you will need something from someone one time.
And if you are this independent human being with a backup plan for everything, kwisha wewe.
Kwisha Mimi too because I am only learning this now.


Tuesday, July 9, 2019

Profile: The Constantly Constant Maureen K

This is Maureen K.
Maureen is constant.

If you decided to go to America to find a job and then your visa expired and you lived incognito for 23 years somewhere in Los Angels and then you somehow managed to find false papers to come back for a short visit to your relatives, you would still find her the same. But you, you would look out of place in your American clothes because this is Kenya and we keep up with the Kardashians.


 I think 23 years is enough for you to be rubbed off the family records.. ? And they start talking to you as when nanii  was alive.

Maureen, when she walks, she seems to be receiving interpretations to prophesies or revelations to things that will happen in the future so she has this smile that says, yes I'm listening mortal man but..
'I have food you do not know of'

I would like to say we are friends but I am not yet there. To be Maureen's friend you have to have reached a certain level of Zen, where all the elements: earth, sky and water are in balance.
I think it's called poise.
Her friends have poise
She has two friends. Dennis and Mambo. The rest of us are aspiring to be her friends.
She has two skirts, a maroon scarf and one full neck sweater. And a hat

She also has two sisters and I've been thinking if I was friends with her I might be able to request one of her sisters to teach me how to dance to 90's Hiphop.
I Donno if she knows how to but she looks like she might. Like the girl from that dance movie what was it- the dance one that had a really hot black dude?

I like Maureen because she makes sign language beautiful.
You know how some people sign and you wander:
Are they in pain?
Do they have indigestion?
Are they trying to remove a tiny piece of meat between their teeth but it's refusing and they are trying to remove it while hoping you don't notice?
Do they have an involuntary spasm going through their arms and upper body?
I am included in that description.

I admire Maureen because she has mastered the capsule dressing technique while the rest of us have three suitcases of  dresses and even after spending half an hour mix and matching we still end up looking like we were launched out of a racial street parade festival in Brazil.

I mean me.

Maureen is also a great cook. Not of big ugali and large pilaus but of Oriental sounding dishes like Quiche.

So now you have met Maureen and I know your life has improved.

Saturday, July 6, 2019

This Chic: Destination Canaan but oh wait sorry wrong turn.

I got these flowers to commemorate my 8th month of unemployment.

Pardon me, this is one of those real posts that give someone an unpleasant feeling.
I promise to write a happy one soon which you can like.

During these 8 months I have gone through the three stages of unemployment mental status.

1. Destination Canaan

This is the Greener pastures stage.
This is the stage where I was saying ,  I'm settling for nothing less than my worth.
I am gonna get full value for my experience and age and hard knocks of my former life.

'A son should earn more than his father after all.'

And why should I waste my life in a job that doesn't pay me enough to afford a tiny car to do my rounds?

And as woman of three and 10, living from paycheck to paycheck? It goes against nature.
Plus a hundred other philosophies.

'Show me the money,'
said I.
And if the money was not to my liking I turned up my nose and said it was nice meeting you but this is where our paths end.

2. The fighter stage

When I got to this stage I stuck my chest out and clenched my fists.
So you won't give me a job world?
I will show you!
Ata I don't need that job.
I am a survivor.
And so of course, I worked very hard.

Every small kibarua I got I gave it attention. I tried new things,
I remembered skills I had acquired  and was putting them into use.
When the hard earned money would slip out of my hands as soon as it came I started thinking that actually my former paycheck was not that bad even if it just took care of rent and bills.

So maybe I could take a similar job for a similar pay and in another five years I'll still need a KCB-Mpesa loan to get me to the end of the month.

(This would be a good point to cry very much)
3.
The Pambana na Hali yako stage

So eventually you notice you have just sent out your 174th job application with an edited cover letter and updated CV.

You attend your 10th interview and three weeks later they don't call so you realise just because you did an interview doesn't mean you will get hired in 2019.

So what to do but  tupambana na hali yako the best  way you can?

Random person: Hiii!! How are you Cecilia?
Me: (with a smile like the sun itself) Heeeeey! Never been better!
Random person: How is work?
Me: Great! How is life?



Friend: Hey Ciss how are you?
Me: Not sure
Friend: I drew you a picture, see below
Me: awwww, just what I need to get through another day
Friend: I know, hang in there.

Tuesday, June 18, 2019

Three reasons you should put Diani beach on your bucket list


Diani Beach along the Kenyan Coast has been described as a tired traveler’s resting point.
While it boasts a clean, white sand beach and clear blue waters like many beaches around the world, it adds to its attraction by being placed in a peaceful, modern and green town. On one side, you can go clubbing in the bustling town, on the other end you can decide to watch the sunset with the sound of oncoming waves in your ears.
There are, however, three major attractions that deserve exclusive mention:
Where The Congo River meets the Sea

The Kongo river comes down from the Shimba Hills, located North East of Kenya. As the massive river makes its the way through villages and smaller towns, quiet valleys and earth’s hidden crooks, it finally comes to the mangrove forest that fences the Sea’s edges. Any silt collected from its journeys is filtered, to ensure that, only a clean, clear river meets the salty sea. It is a beauty to watch when the river comes rushing in, and on one side, the waves clapping their hands to receive the newcomer.
If you have never swum in a river, then here is a good opportunity. You can swim in the river all day without the fear of getting drowned. You will no doubt be exhilarated to feel the current rush you into the salty waters ahead. There is ample packing on the beach too next to the Kongo Mosque.
All along the beach, you will find boat services to go deep-sea diving, snorkeling or simply a tour of the seas. Grab the chance to observe creation in its natural underworld.

Variety of Resorts and Cottages
In the last few years, The Kenya Tourism industry has upped its game in the provision of safe, secure and global standards of tourism amenities. As such, the standard of accommodation you will find on Diani beach will be what you bargained for and a bag of chips. You can make a booking online for transport and accommodation. There are numerous Airbnb available as well as cottages for rent for a night, a weekend and even up to a month.
For the international traveler, you will find that the local hotels are well equipped to handle your requests as they come. To increase flexibility, you can either chose to hire a car or utilize uber services. Shorter distances can be accessed via three sitter vehicles called Tuk-Tuks.

When you hire a cottage, you have the option to cook your own food, which brings us to the next wonderful point.

Diani Beach Town Mall
As much as you are out in nature getting earthed, you may want to come out on an evening and take a stroll through the town. In its smooth, a laidback style common to coastal towns, you will be able to have a slight glimpse of local culture. If you are adventurous to try the street food, it comprises of fried fish, roasted peanuts and deep fried potatoes ( viazi karai).

At the market, you will get fresh produce Carrots, potatoes, peas, tomatoes, and onions can be had as you take in the vibrant energy that gives life to a market. The Naivas shopping Mall hosts among others, a large supermarket, an electronics shop, as well as a wine shop. Now you have your supplies, grab a tuk-tuk and go back and cook out a storm.
Why not have a barbecue by the pool if your cottage provides one?
Certainly, there is much to be had by visiting Diani beach this holiday season.



Thursday, June 13, 2019

The Shallow and Incomplete Guide to Cooking flour, meat and rice for people who live alone or with cats an are tired of eating ugali and eggs every night.

Cookies

First, a story.

When I was five or six my neighbour's grandchildren would come visiting from an exotic sounding town called Molo. Since their last born daughter was my age, we would hang out.

Those were luxurious day for a villager.

They had tea at 10 o'clock and at 4 O'clock.

At 3.00 pm her mom and aunt would bake cookies in the big mabati oven that stood between the outhouse and the kitchen.

Big cookies that when you took a bite into one you then had to chew slowly and swallow pole pole.

This was served with masala tea.

How do you get to be so posh like that in Kieni West and why didn't we ever try to construct that oven at home? 

I Donno.

But I guess certain people have a certain stylish way of doing things.

Or maybe I am biased towards anything that seems even remotely British.

Here I curtesy.

So today I am thankful for this cookie recipe by Jen Phanomrat
Because when I tried it, they came out exactly as those cookies from my childhood.



What you need:

1 egg+ 1 yolk
1 and 1/2 cup of flour
1 teaspoon baking powder 
3/4 cup of sugar
1/2 teaspoon of salt
2 teaspoonful of vanilla extract
8 tablespoons of unsalted butter/ Margarine.

I didn't use all that sugar nor that amount of magarine but go ahead and use all the sugar you like.

Now what?

Mix the sugar and butter first until smooth, then everything else goes in.
Then end result should be a thick cream.

Scoop out using a spoon and place them on your hot pan.

Turn then around when firm on one side until both sides are cooked.

Leave them to cool down.

They won't be crunchy or pancakey they will be just right.

Serve with masala tea






Sunday, May 26, 2019

This Chic: This is not my year, I give up.

And anyone who wants to get in line please do.
Every once in a while I hear someone scream 'this is my year y'all better watch out!!!'

Ok
I tried it, when I was 25 I said to myself ' this is your year, it has to be.'
And I got into a frenzy Doing this and that.

I was straight out of Digital Film Uni and I had an ego from here to Cyberjaya.
And in my first job interview, for a editing post I said I preferred to be an assistant editor. He didn't get why, but I got the job in 20 minutes.

I had spank but I was holding back a lot.
I wanted to tame my ego and my feelings of entitlement.

I also didn't  have any enthusiasm
For the work, writing about furniture wasn't exactly my main goal in life.

I just wanted to write books.
I wanted East African Book Publishers to call me and ask if I could work as a tea girl. Then I would interact with writers at lunchtime and sneak in my manuscript to a friendly editor one day and she would read it and be amazed that a tea girl could write so well and she would say
'We must get this published.'

And we would co-write a book and soon I would be signing my book at Sarit Centre.


After three months I asked if I could work as a staff writer, which they agreed and I moved from Nairobi thinking how I would wow them with my articles about 'Neglected colonial houses'
Or
'Colonial houses that would be as good as new with a bit of coating'

'The white highlands' monuments'

Blah blah

I was the only one interested in run down wooden structures from the past but I told the stories to my family and they laughter a lot .

Especially about one that was formerly a honeymoon getaway but now occupied by a religious minister and his wife.  When I had asked what the house was used for before he looked this way and that and shaking his head in sorrow  he said ' it had been used for unholy purpose.'
My aunt laughed out loud when I asked her what unholy purpose had been happening, supposing maybe it had been a brothel.

' No, it was a hotel and couples around here would book it on their wedding night.'

Cool.

I had thought.

It overlooked a great valley with flowering aloe vera and at the time of my visit, there were seasonal flowers, scattering the surrounding ground with white and blue.


So I started writing about Onion farming instead.

At 29 I told myself 'this is your year'
And I became a content consultant, whereupon landing a handful clients I settled into this relatively easy life Doing what I was trained to do and enjoying every bit but the pay.

At 30 I declared
'This is my year.'
But pretty soon realized it wasn't and every single time I said it after that, it wasn't.
(After 30 you don't count year by year. Every month counts)

So I declared, 'this is not my year !' two months ago, when I lost (every bit of everything I care about though that is a bit of exaggeration but it is true to some extent. I'll explain, by and by)

I decided to give up.
And to care less
And to lower my rubbish tolerance to about 1%
And to stop being nice

And I seriously recommend giving up.
What giving up does to you is not head you off to a hang line.  But I will talk about that another day.

'This is not my year, ' said I two months ago.

It didn't make me feel despondent as you would expect.
I looked at what I had lost and decided well, it could be worse.

By my age my mother had a teenager to pay school fees for.
And She must have worried about her aging Mother and her growing daughter.

And here I am worrying every year about my pay check.
Yet I have more than many my age and circumstance can claim to have.

I have always known I have stamina, confidence, beauty,positivity, cynicism  and  Intellect (this could be argued on depending on subject)

But I live in a society that wants you as a citizen of Venus to disregard what strengths you posses and highlight the one that requires the least effort.

But I learnt early that in spite of the big letters in blue ink, ' you cannot keep a cow if you are not going to kill it.'

And that was my loss, at least for many a formative years when I should have slung a Mars citizen on my shoulder to get me across the bridge. Rather, should have slung myself on their shoulder not the other way.

I'm glad for it though. I cannot be said to owe anybody other than those to whom I should without being coerced.

I mean my family .

Gosh. I was reading David Copperfield last night. I sound like a  classic costume drama.

Anyhow.
I took my strong qualities apart and thought ' if this is gonna end let it end in flames. Let it burn as brightly as we are.'

Thus the rebirth of my 60hour work weeks.
I work 10 hours a day
I sleep 7 hours a night
I do my usual shenanigans the rest of the time.(like this blog post; though very important it falls under the category of non-profit making activities of human occupation)

Admitting that this is not my year helped me to shed off the weight that one has to bear after affirmative resolutions.

And it not being my year doesn't mean now I'm a failure it just means my method are not working let's try another method.

It also brought me back to the question I've always asked myself, what do I really want to do with my life?

Being able to answer that question has propelled me to sift through job applications with a needle point.

I don't want to just work because I am a  30something and I should have a job and should earn this much and should have a plot in Kamulu and I should have at least a two burner and I should stop buying roasted maize in the street and I should try to act like A lady, a little? Maybe a little? No I will not.

I don't have to act anything
And you don't have to act anything when you are around me either.
Coz this is not my year and I expect nothing.
Nothing but the real real stuff.

Coz I got this.

Sunday, May 12, 2019

Middle Age Alert: For the love of healthy eating.



I have a health freak living inside of me. Actually let's just say I have been held captive by a -whole grain, white 

meat, salad, and soup eating goblin who is here to make me pay for the uncontrolled
 sugar intake of my younger days.

 Gosh, I can't even look at the flavoured yogurt counter without the voice shouting 'that's processed sugar!'

 My friend and I are in the supermarket, I came in to buy powder soap and remembered I need yogurt.

And he says 'come, the yogurts are over here', and I say 'actually the one I want is in this fridge.' 

'But Creambell has a new flavor, see it' s peach flavored I think I'll try it. '

He says
And I say 'oh yeah well. Enjoy.' Without glancing at it. 

I cannot even eat kale and spinach like an ordinary Kenyan anymore.. nohhh it has to be kunde and sagaa and 

nderema, greens that don't even have English names.
other people are drinking cocacola mimi niko hapa nangoja juice ya miwa

The other day I was in the house and around 4.00pm I started to feel like a snack.  When you have had ugali 

Omena for lunch your mouth starts to want sweet things. I looked around the house and the only thing I could 

snack on was a bunch of carrots. Carrots yaani.

Or sugar cane which I have to peel myself, 'to strengthen thy teeth.'

Because this crossbreed of a 50-year-old mother in law and a 24-year-old young wife (kuona mbee) won't let me 

eat store-bought biscuits. 

If you want a cookie you gotta make it yourself she says and then stocks my pantry with flour and nuts and 

other stuff so I don't find any reason ya kukimbilia Mandazi mbili pale kwa Maasai in the morning.

When people are buying sweet flavored teas, zile za Kericho gold,, she goes and buys me a packet of neem tree 

tea bags.


Honestly. 


In normal homes, people are sipping passion and strawberry infused teas after dinner mimi niko hapa na 

kikombe ya murubanne.

Sometimes, when I am considering buying whole box of ginger nut biscuits I feel like one of those husbands in 

their late fifties who have to hide from their wives so they can eat some nyama choma., but I stop myse'f 

before giving in to the temptation coz I know it won't end well. I will be forced to knock at every door in my flat 

distributing the biscuits.

Ati ni maturity and even if my Shushu came to visit she would wonder whose great aunt's house we are visiting. 

Coz I mean, Gathoni where did you learn to ferment porridge?

Why can't you just get ujimix ile ya exe?

So this is where we at. I'm sitting at this restaurant and the only thing I can order is tea, because "how do you 

know they don't make their cakes with mafuta ya kupima?' 

And then maybe I'll have the arrowroot soup.


Going to buy a plot in Maaī Mahiū Book launch in a glimpse

Hello dear writers, I want to thank you very much for the encouragement before my book launch. I am happy to report that Saturday 27th went ...