My first driving lesson was tutored by my mum. My mum taught me how to tie a neck tie and a belt around my waist. The knowledge I have about cars, houses, machines and splitting firewood is all my mother’s handwork.
My dad on the other hand, taught me how to cook, how to scream and not to raise my hands even on an abusive woman.
Hi you, there is someone I would love you to meet. You probably know her but in drib and drabs.
Not long ago when I was a boy, I was dumbfounded whenever I saw a lady driving a car. I thought that was a man’s hobby. Gradually, this naïveté was quickly diluted by more ladies in male-dominated fields offering me a place in sophistication instead.
There is something about fire, no wonder it has a primal link with humans. Smoldering, roaring, flickering flames, eager, hungry, rampaging; it fuels a unique beast within it. It devours everything in its path. In 1959, a fire was kindled in Kisii county whose warmth and blaze we get to experience now.
Professor Bitange Ndemo understands that there comes a time when “pushing”
‘The question isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me,’ Ayn Rand pictures Julie Gichuru with these words.
In a chauvinistic and testosterone-driven world, ambitious and goal-oriented women are seen as a threat and hence many hold back. But Julie was not eloquent in this language. She did not relate to this kind of medieval mentality.
I have been trusting God in prayer for a while now. A prayer of supplication. Covid-19 never knocked on our doors. Instead, it unwelcomely invited itself into our living rooms. Most of my neighbors were not about to put up with a rude visitor and hence they canceled or put off whatever brought them to the city, picked whatever they could and moved back to where their grandfathers married many wives.
It has been 11 years since my last real physical fight. Beaten and humbled by my short classmate, it was my first taste of falling short of the glory of God. My crush was watching and so were my mates. Shame, fear, lack of confidence, humility…these were my new software updates courtesy of Collins Okiring. Thrice that day, he had successfully remodeled me from Babito the Popular,
“I’ve come to believe that each of us has a personal calling that’s as unique as a fingerprint – and that the best way to succeed is to discover what you love and then find a way to offer it to others in the form of service, working hard ”
Wouldn’t it be amazing if these were Cynthia Nyongesa’s words?
There is this thing about music that it almost reflects the human body. I find it relatively synonymous with my heartbeat and its lyrics echo the vibrations in my soul. To me and to many, music has been a teacher and a safe haven. Music fills the air and our space without effort. We feed so much from it as its rhythm swims through our cerebral cortex.
The image painted of Marriage is that of a wedding gown, a ring worn, honeymoon or a paper signed. Signed to pronounce a life commitment and for others, a convenience drawn back before even the ink dries. Till death do us part, they say, assuming no other lifetimes after mortality. If you take this at face value,
This life is an adventure. The thing about it is, where we wander; none have walked before.
Our life is sacramental. Infact someone once wrote, ‘It is lived as a secret and told as a lie. Sure, we share bits and pieces of what happens throughout our days, or within our nights, but that’s all. That’s all that is shared.