Try, Pick Yourself Up, and Try Again

My good people, it has been quite a while since I last published a post. I can't believe that my last post was in 2016. The years have rolled by so fast. Time really is fleeting. I should do blogs more often. I'll try to be consistent even if it is just to say hi. Anyway, I hope the dust from the blog does not give you a cold, if it does, just see medical advice.
Anyway, this happens to be one of those nights that I find myself not sleepy.This should be a concern given I have work in the morning. Damn you Monday. I am officially joining Garfield in cancelling Mondays. Instead of watching a series, this is one of those very rare nights where I've had moments of self-reflection (in actual sense it's been hours of self-reflection). I rarely have these moments. I am a pretty chilled guy who never has much going on in my mind (you decide whether that is a good thing or a bad thing.) We just had the century's longest blood moon so I guess my mind is having the same.
In this period of self-reflection I have found myself thinking a lot about failure, resilience and not giving up. There are many things that we search for in life. It could be happiness, success, wealth, peace and many other things. The journey towards achieving our desires is never easy for the most part. We struggle and fail. Sometimes once, sometimes so many times that we even lose count.
In order to achieve our desires and our goals, in order to survive and conquer this treacherous journey to fulfillment, I have learnt that there are two main things that are very important:
1. Belief in yourself
2. The resilience keep trying no matter how many times you fail.

These two things combined can push you to unimaginable heights. As long as you believe in yourself and have the desire to achieve what it is that you want to achieve, you will be able to push on. However, once that belief is lost, then the strength and energy to go on is lost. Self-belief and resilience go hand in hand just like Kenya Power blackouts and rain.
There is this series that I watched with my sister. It is called "The Good Doctor." The show has an English version and a Korean version. The Korean version is the original and since we prefer original stuff, we watched the Korean version (it has English subtitles). This series is about a doctor living with autism. His dream was to be a doctor and he had to work extremely hard to be a doctor. He had to overcome the challenges he had which were not few. He had many skeptics who did not believe that he could be a competent doctor and a surgeon. As a matter of fact, his attending doctor did not believe that he was fit to be a surgeon. At one point, he recommended that he moved from the pediatric department to diagnostics because he was incredible at diagnosing illnesses but not as good at surgery and he always feared that he was an operation away from a catastrophic error. The doctor (he was called Park) refused to move. He said that his dream was to be a surgeon and he would get to that goal no matter what. Seeing Dr. Park's resilience and commitment to his cause and desire to be a doctor, his attending gave him the benefit of the doubt and told him that for him to be respected and accepted as a doctor, Dr. Park would have to surpass him in his work. With this challenge, Dr. Park pushed on and eventually became a doctor.
In my own life (which hasn't been that long) there are moments where I have had to show resilience and persistence to achieve the goals that I had set out for myself. I have achieved some goals and I continue to struggle and persist so as to achieve others. When I was doing my Masters degree dissertation, I had to submit my research proposal three times before passing and continuing to carry out the proposed research. I faced the panel first time and  was told that it wasn't good enough, that I needed to re-do it and submit it again. I went back and did it and went to the panel a second time and still it wasn't good enough. Again I tried a third time and thankfully I passed and proceeded to carry out research and present my findings. I ended up being the only one graduating in my Masters class not because I was smarter than everyone else but because I kept trying despite being sent back. I did not lose the faith that I had in myself and I did not give up. I kept at it again and again until I succeeded.
The masters story is one where I have succeeded. There are many that others that I am still struggling with. One that is my commitment to going to the gym and losing weight. This is one massive battle that I have had for many many years. There was a point last year that I was doing really well. I lost 10kgs in just under 3 months. I was almost averaging a kg a week. Things were going really well. I travelled home for like two weeks and told myself that I am on a short break then I will resume. Long story short, I am still on my break. I have honestly been meaning to go back to the gym but this is a classic case of the spirit being willing but the body is weak. I am not giving up on this cause despite the maaany times I have attempted to go back the gym. Hopefully by the end of the year I will have positive news to report. Thankfully, I have someone by my side who is a massive cheerleader and she keeps nudging me to head back to the gym (I should point out that they are incredibly sharp nudges). She had also nudged me to get back to blogging and here we are, aren't we? Maybe, just maybe, we'll have something to report come December as a result of these nudges. Can I hear an Amen? Thank you for the loud Amen at the back (of course it is the nudge giver shouting the largest Amen. This is a prayer item my friends)
As I shut down my computer so that I head to bed where I hope I will be able to get some sleep (I am seriously running the risk of being a zombie tomorrow), I just want to remind you to keep at it. Whatever it is that you are reaching for, keep going, keep jumping, keep trying. Give it one more try and if it doesn't work, try again. If you are trying to make amends for something you did wrong, keep trying to fix it. Don't give up. If it is an exam you need to resit, study for it and resit it. If it is a promotion you are eyeing, keep working towards it. If there is that girl you're trying to make laugh but she doesn't get any of your jokes, don't give up. Google is your friend. Keep believing in yourself even when others seem to lose faith in you, remind yourself that you can do this. There are some things that I can't seem to get right but I choose to work to get it right and I am get closer and better. I am working to be a better son, a better brother, a better boyfriend,  a better colleague, a better friend, a better student. Sometimes I fail and disappoint the people I love and it is hard especially when you see the effort they have put to raise you, support you and lift you to where you are and when I fail them I have learnt to apologize and work towards fixing it and making them proud of me and proud to be associated with me. Good thing is, they also lift me up when I am down and they do not trample on me and I am eternally grateful for that. So keep trying and never stop believing in yourself. The number of times you have failed does not define you. Keep at it until you get it right.
I just thought I should share those nuggets of wisdom with you since I cannot eat them as I have a December target from the gym remember?

2016 I bid you Adieu

Happy new year good people. Can you believe it? It's a wrap. 2016 is over you guys. I don't know about you guys but mine flew so fast! If years were tribes, 2016 would be a Kalenjin coz yo! the pace with which it flew past! Heh! Ezekiel Kemboi got nothing on 2016. (I feel like someone should use that line in a composition. Any house school going students in the house? That line is gold!).
What can I say about 2016? It is definitely one for the history books. Leicester won the English Premier League, then Brexit happened then to cap it all off Trump won the US presidency (sorry guys for making you relive your nightmares. It won't happen again....I hope). On the national front, this is the year we had a nationwide blackout because of a monkey! My country is comedy gold.
On a personal note, 2016 was a year of ups and downs. One that made me learn a lot about myself and others, one that made me grow and become stronger (well, going to the gym might have helped with the stronger part just a little). I passed my CFA Level I exam which was a thrill, finished my Masters Degree coursework and started on my research project, I tried going to the gym but was never consistent (2017 goals though!) and I went through a whole year without my phone getting stolen. I am finally becoming a city boy guys.
2016 also had its fair share of low moments, I lost a good friend of mine (that was hard), I tried to venture into business but it didn't really work out how I wanted, applied for jobs and got those pesky regret emails (for whatever misguided reasons. I'm awesome! hehe), went through my first heartbreak, on that note, I have beef with you guys. You guys never told me how bad heartbreaks are. Wueeeh! I felt things I have never felt before, most of which was pain. Deep, sharp, resounding pain. Next time warn a brother. There should be a heartbreak 101 class. I shall set up a committee to come up with the course curriculum. It shall be targeting those who are yet to experience heartbreaks. Kindly register at the end of this post, we have a non-refundable registration fee of Ksh. 1,000. The money will go towards facilitating the program. We shall be providing our learners with stationery and essential life skills. We are attempting to partner with the Break a Heart Foundation to provide every student with a laptop. Laptops will be very important especially when it comes to watching video tutorials. We are also making an appeal to the Jubillee Government, tunaomba serikali iingilie kati. Wananchi wanaumia, to help reduce cases of heartbreaks. Finally, we shall be needing facilitators to help teach the program. Kindly send your CV as well for review highlighting your years of experience. Only shortlisted candidates will be contacted. Thank you for your cooperation.
In those dark times, I actually got to know that I have some amazing people in my life. My family, who are super protective of me, You do not want to get on their wrong side hehe. Blood is truly thicker. I love them with all my heart. I also have some amazing friends. Mabalozi guys, who were there in real time, watching me desperately trying to maintain my cool during practice, my peeps Ken and Allan whose solution to everything is FIFA. Needless to say, I  mercilessly whooped their asses. If they say anything to the contrary, they will be lying. I got some brothers from other mothers. Mwendwa, who's more like my older brother was always there, ready to pour out wisdom and share his experiences and offer a place for me to crash whenever I just felt like hanging out. Nathan is another one although his was more of a serving of idiocy than wisdom but what can you do about it? The Lord gifts us differently lol. Daisy and Norah for letting me rant. Ranting is so theraupetical guys...and oh, for food as well. There are so many guys whom I haven't mentioned but I did learn that I do have a support system. There are people who got my back and I got theirs and that is a beautiful thing. 2016 renewed my sense of community. There are people to lift you when you are down and vice versa. I saw the good in humanity. Someone taking time off work to treat you to lunch and just talk is a massive deal. Aha then there's Njeri! The sister! Mungu akubariki tu hehe.
So as I bid 2016 farewell, I have learnt that I am actually stronger than I thought I was, God has blessed me with wonderful people in my life and I have finally learnt that there's so much good in people. So as we get into 2017, let not the challenges we face blind us from seeing the good in people. People will hurt us, and we will hurt others. Let us learn to say sorry, forgive and not let our bad experiences stop us from experiencing the good that life has to offer.
Speaking of good things that life has to offer, one of those good things has been nudging me to write a new post. It had been a while. I hope you are happy now. Consider this a new year's gift.
Happy new year everybody and I hope that God grants you your heart's desires this year and may you have joy, peace and happiness.

The Problem with our Gospel Entertainment Industry

Aloha everybody! Or should I be presidential and say, “Niaje….wasee.” just like our son of the soil, Barack Obama addressed us. I hope the hangover of POTUS’ visit is fading away, or should I say withering? I actually don’t know how hangovers work as I have not had the misfortune (privilege to some) of having one. I got to admit it. It was exciting, very exciting. I never imagined that I would be that excited because I wanted to be like the cool kids. You know, the ones not really affected by the Obama mania, “So Obama’s coming! So what!” My little sister was among the cool kids. Her main concern was, “Will Obama coming affect my flight back to school?” she has missed her friends or maybe she was just moody that day. 19 years having her as my sister and I have still not understood a single thing about women. The good thing is she helps me out whenever I fail to understand my girlfriend. Not that she explains anything about this phenomenon called women but she talks to her and tells her to cut me some slack (guys these are the perks of introducing your girlfriends to your sisters) on the other hand, she’ll be the one going, “What were you thinking when you did that! You’re an idiot.” Though she’ll still go out of her way and smoothen things for me. She could be such a darling, when she’s not hell bent on annoying me. For the record little sister, punching me is not cool at all!”

Anyway, I remember how excited I was waiting to see Obama’s arrival. Judge me if you want but that was a momentous occasion (I hope I’ve used the word momentous correctly) I was switching between the local channels and DSTV Channel 199 that had live proceedings of what was actually happening in the Global Entrepreneurship Summit. The local channels were just something else. Haha I laugh thinking about it. Those who were watching Ahmed Dharuesh on KTN remember him saying, “Mpenzi msikilizaji, kama mnavyoona niko hapa karibu na gari aina ya beast! Najaribu kuikaribia lakini…” and he continued. For those who did not watch local channels that day, I have basically summarized what they covered. President Obama’s presidential car, The Beast….oh, and the roads that were closed for the day. DSTV channel 199 on the other hand was nothing short of inspiring. The ideas that the entrepreneurs had and their businesses, revolutionary stuff.

Despite the inspiration from the DSTV channel, I couldn’t wait to see Obama. My brother was there fuming every time I switched back to GES proceedings, he is 13 so no reason for him to follow it yet, my Aunt was complaining, my sister…well my sister was in her room, reading a novel (see why I don’t understand women). Then we saw it! Obama’s plane! Flying towards JKIA. Somehow KTN cameramen got that shot. Then When the doors opened, then he came out waving, I’m sure playing in many people’s heads was the heavenly sound, “Aaaaaaaaah” angelic voices singing in their heads as Obama jogged down those steps. President Uhuru standing in wait, little Joan Wamaitha with her flowers. A moment to rememember. 15 years down the line though, guys will not hear the end of it when she shows them her picture with Obama and talks about it. Guys will have to really dig deep to take her out for coffee.

That night we all slept like babies. Imagine our shock on Saturday morning when we wake up to find that our DSTV subscription had run out. Multichoice imposed media blackout! Though it gave me a chance to watch Gabriel Inglesias’ stand up comedies. If you are a fan of stand up comedies, I highly recommend Gabriel Inglesias.

Anyway, that night I took my little brother to his first concert. Actually it should be “concert” because it was actually Mr. and Miss. Kabarak University but for the entertainment, they had all the big names in the Kenyan Gospel music industry. Daddy Owen, Bahati, Recapp, Kelele Takatifu, L-Jay Maasai….and others who I cannot remember their names unfortunately. On the decks was Dj Sadiq, one of the biggest gospel Deejays in the country. Actually, all the stars were there under Dj Sadiq’s Genius Entertainment, in which Dj Sadiq is the CEO (if I’m not mistaken). I had not even planned to go to the event mainly because it was not free. One had to buy tickets. You mention tickets and I go the other way. I say this because I’m going through this phase of my life where brokenness is a synonym to my name. These are some of the things we sacrifice for a better future. In our quest to better ourselves academically and in our careers, we keep ourselves off the job market for a while as we get better. That’s the concept of the academic system. However, I got lucky. My girlfriend invited me. If you don’t know, I date a model guys. I may be broke, but I got game! LMAO, let me not chocha myself here. I usually look at her, then look at myself, then look at her again, then tell myself, “Kalya you serve a living God.” Coz guys, she’s really beautiful, like super gorgeous, hotness redefined. And to think I kept her waiting before I asked her out. It was so bad it reached a point where she told me, “You better ask me out, and it better be sooner rather than later.” Of course I, not being one to make decisions under any pressure, asked her out later rather than sooner. I had to run it by my dad first. Look at all you guys gasping and asking, “You talk to your dad about such things?” yes I do. It’s a real blessing and something we’ll talk about another day.

Being Miss Tourism Kenya, and a student at Kabarak University, Jacquie (that’s her name) was automatically invited to the occasion. I live in Kabarak, when I’m not in Nairobi, and I was in Kabarak and so she invited me. Being the Kenyan that I am, I took the invitation and extended it to my brother and cousin who both wanted to come. My cousin was already in his pajamas and he figured getting out of was too much hustle so he was like, “You guys go. I’m too tired.” I was very tempted to say, “Too tired? Take dettol cool!” though I think he just wanted to watch the Manchester United Vs Barcelona game, which I was streaming. I connected the HDMI cable to the TV and left him watching the game. My folks were fast asleep by then. For the record, Man United won 3-1 #GGMU. (btw did any of you notice how I just nonchalantly stated the fact that my girlfriend is Miss Tourism Kenya? Like it’s nothing. Oh you noticed? Just had to make sure). So we went to the concert. Got VIP entrance and sat on the front seats, the best seats in the house (I wonder why while in high school we used to fight for the seats at the very top) and the show was underway. We were actually late, she had to make an entrance (like duuuh!).

The ardent followers of this blog know that I have written on this topic before. Should be two years ago, maybe you could search for it and read it as well but I shall write something similar, if not the same thoughts again, because things to do with the Gospel is not something that we should play with. It’s not something we should take lightly. With all the big names coming out on stage, it was correct to dub it a “gospel concert.” And one after the other, the artistes took to the stage, did their thing, and left. This is something that usually bothers me with our gospel artistes. What is the essence of you coming on stage and then leaving to chill in your car? Makes no sense at all! The songs that are being sang, being gospel songs, they do praise God and as such they edify the congregation. Being a gospel concert, the crowd ceases to be an audience and becomes a congregation. I remember talking to one Emmanuel Mwongela, very bright young man. He’s in recap and we were sharing and he was telling me how they have gone to over 120 schools in the country just ministering and that’s big! That’s service and after talking he was like, “Let’s go in. I got to see the other guys. You know these are the guys who have nurtured us and helped us grow.” (at that time Kelele Takatifu were taking the stage) and in my mind I was like, “If only all the other gospel artistes were like him. We’d be different. It would be great.” And we went in and got involved and stuff.

I have a big big problem with our gospel artistes just performing and leaving not only the stage but the whole building just to chill in the car. I understand if you have to rush somewhere but if not, I advocate they stay in church, or the tent or wherever the concert is taking place. Basically, stay in the sanctuary and here’s my logic: the congregation who are gathered are there to praise and worship God. They have been blessed by your songs and they come with the hope, expectation and belief that they are going to be blessed when you present the song. Not that I have said present, and not perform. Why? Because there is a divine element to your song. It is not just some song put together but it ultimately glorifies God. God has given you the talent and you are not performing it to the people or to Him, but rather you are presenting it to God. I take it to be a sacrifice that you are presenting to God. From the talents that God has given you, you make a sacrifice of praise which you, and all of us in attendance, make to God. As we all know, God has rejected sacrifices in the past. That of Cain, King Saul, where Prophet Samuel told him it is better to obey than to sacrifice. The same can happen when in the presentation (or performance) it is not done with the aim of praising God or the focus not being on Him. Let it not reach the point where it is like in Amos 5:21;

            “I hate, I despise your religious festivals; your assemblies are a stench to me.”

This not only affects the gospel artistes but also we who go to the concerts. When we go to the concerts we should go with the aim of worshipping God in truth and in spirit. Having fun and kujibamba should be secondary things. The main thing should be God. This is being lost however when we say we have a vibrant “Gospel Entertainment Industry.” Once the focus becomes entertainment, then we lose it. We lose the purpose of the gospel being preached. Because the focus turns to money, fame, making other people have fun, churning out hit song after hit song without regard to the one who gives us the talents.

For secular artistes it should not be a problem when they perform then they leave, they have done what they came to do. For gospel artistes, whenever we take the stage, after we are done, let’s go back to our seats and not our cars. Let’s also get blessed the way we have blessed others. Tuwe na moyo mkunjufu. Everybody should be one in spirit and purpose. That the main aim is to glorify God our savior. Bahati should come on after listening to Kelele Takatifu sing and should sit down and listen and sing with Daddy Owen. That way you also get edified and blessed. You do not leave the sanctuary the same way you came in. It takes humility to do that I believe. Let it be something that our artistes start doing. All meaning is lost when we focus it on entertainment.

When Daddy Owen took the stage, he did something that I really liked. He said a short prayer then sang. He did a song or two, then took some time and just spoke to the congregation about the word on following God in spirit and I remember turning to Jacquie and telling her, if all the other artistes did the same, there would be a biiig difference. People would be touched, lives would be touched. People would be challenged. Who knows, maybe the drunks who were in the congregation would be challenged you know? That is what I would like to see. A few years back when Lecrae and Tedashi were in the country, two of the biggest hip-hop gospel artistes in the world,  they took some time in the course of their presentation/performance and gave mini-sermons. Not looong messages but something to take home other than their songs. That was amazing and it is something that our local artistes should pick up and be doing. It drives you to keep reading God’s word, keep meditating upon it. It keeps your priorities straight. You do that and you realize that, “Hey, I am actually supposed to sit and listen to the other guys, worship with the rest of the congregation.” And that your presentation is not all about, “Wapi nduru za Kabaraaaak, wapi nduru ya mamaaaaaaa.”  Meditating on the word of God keeps you in check. The word of God guides you and automatically you know what you ought to do. It keeps one’s pride in check. One is able to realize that it is not all about the fame. There is a greater thing here. A greater message. A great commission that you were sent to bring people to Christ. I would love to see after a performance and short message, Bahati asking people to come to Christ. That would be amazing. It’s a challenge, and it would be taken up once we realize that it is not about entertainment but rather about taking the message of Christ to the people.

What actually made me write this post was about what happened after Daddy Owen performed. He is the biggest name in the Gospel Music scene and as expected, he was the last to perform. After he left, the event was not over. Remember it was a beauty pagent. However, after a few minutes, guys got into the auditorium, Genius Entertainment guys because they had the t-shirts on (Dj Sadiq’s guys) and they started dismantling the stage which had been assembled. Started taking down the speakers and banners and stuff without regard to the fact that the event was still going on. Mr. and Miss Kabarak University were to be crowned on the stage which they were dismantling, the MC had to shout coz the microphones were being switched off and it was all so rude and unfortunate. So I got out and tried to get to the bottom of the situation and possibly talk to Dj Sadiq and tell him to not let his guys do whatever they were doing. When I got out I found out that there was an issue with the payment. There was a deficit which they had not been paid and they were mad about it. Their solution? Make the guys who paid to see them suffer. Take down the stage go with everything! That was so rude and so crass. It’s not like the organizers had refused to pay, just that ticket sales fell short of what they expected. It was a Saturday night, they are students no one has got the money with them, wait till Monday and they would be sorted but they did not want to hear any of it (though eventually they did they had no choice)

I understand it’s a business, the artistes got to eat and earn a living and stuff. But this is not just any business. This is a business that was created to spread the word of God to others. You ought to have some values. What kind of example were you setting to the kids Dj Sadiq? Having your men tear down the stage right there. What happened to the fruit of the Holy Spirit, Love, Joy, Peace, PATIENCE, KINDNESS, goodness, gentleness, SELF-CONTROL? Ilioza ama? I was really disturbed by what I saw. I mean you claim to run your business with Christian values, then do so. If anything else, business is a matter of good faith. You provided a service, you will be paid. As a businessman, you expect risks and you should have contingencies and provisions. You do not behave in such a manner. If Homeboyz did that I would have no problem. They do not have anything to do with the spreading of the gospel in their value system but Dj Sadiq and Genius Entertainment have Christian values and that was not a good thing to see. I was even happy that I had taken my little brother to sleep way before the event was over. When I finally got to talk to Dj Sadiq, he wasn’t even in the least bit interested. The guy was counting his money in his thousands. His pay for the day. Very disturbing. I don’t know if Dj Sadiq or any of the gospel artistes will read this but I hope that they will get the message one way or the other. We need to take another look at ourselves and prioritize. We should know who we worship and that we are to worship Him. Let us not lose sight of the goal towards which we are pressing on.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM

Hello Amigos, glad to see you guys here, again. I don’t know why you guys keep coming here but oh well, I’ll persevere. I mean the pressure, all those eyes, keenly looking to see what important thing Kalya has got to say today. The grammar Nazis with their magnifying glasses looking for typos in my work (Merceline, I see you). It’s good though, having you all expectant, waiting to hear from me. Makes me kind of feel like a pastor, at this rate I should have the ushers wait on you for your tithes and offering. For those of you who came not prepared, you only had your bus fair with you, fear not, the media team will have the M-Pesa numbers running at the bottom of your screen as I continue with the word. For those of you from the Lakeside, worry not for we have not forgotten you. We do know for safety purposes you do not operate with cash, except maybe the odd one thousand shilling note that you use to wipe your shoes with. You opt to operate with plastic money (say it with the Luo accent, sounds waaay cooler. At least it does in my head. If it doesn’t for you, then you are not doing it right, keep trying, don’t worry, I’ll wait). Kindly go to our website and fill in your credit card details and we shall handle it from there. The monies will be automatically directed to our account. We believe it is only fair that the deductions we take are five-digit figures and above, you know, so that we do not embarrass you. For my international audience who may be feeling left out, Luos are a group of people in this our great country particularly know for their flamboyance. Among their people they boast of prominent people such as US President Barack Obama (Kids take note, it’s Barack with one R), Oscar Award winning actress Lupita Nyong’o……the name dropping ends there unfortunately. Lol, that was a painfully short list. Let’s just say they ran short of names which is understandable because running, middle and long-distance running is the specialty of another community so cut them some slack if they only have two people they can talk of.

So today’s blog is special. This is kind of like a guest post, only that it isn’t because I’m still the one who’s writing the post but the content is going to be something not as my usual posts (not that I post often anyway). Today’s post is dedicated to someone special, no not Obama silly, I know he’s coming but he’s not my mom. Read the title before jumping into the story! And we wonder why we are still a third world country. Obama my foot (sorry Mr. President) pffft sooo annoying. You now want me to start having grass grown on the blog? In anticipation of the guest blog? Should we have all roads leading to this blog blocked as well for two days huh? Is that what you want? Ati Obama, what is wrong with some people? On a more serious and more concerning note, what is wrong with Microsoft Word? How can it not recognize the name Obama? Sure, I’m still using Microsoft Word 2007 but that’s no excuse! Don’t start with me, Satya Nadella you better sort this thing mess out otherwise you going to get in trouble with the Patriotic Act (I suppose) not to mention facing the wrath of the Luo nation. I mean, how dare you not recognize one of their two big names, leaving them with just one who shot into the limelight because of being a slave. That’s just wrong. Plain wrong! Although I have a feeling that Donald Trump must be smiling wherever he is because of this debacle. I won’t be surprised if he gives you a chunk of his $10 Billion just coz you’re team doesn’t have the decency to recognize POTUS. It’s really a shame though. Kenyan’s are pressuring grass to grow in 72 hours only to discover that Microsoft Word does not recognize the President of the United States! Oh well, even Makau Mutua apparently doesn’t recognize the President of the Republic of Kenya, though to be fair, Microsoft doesn’t recognize Makau Mutua either so doesn’t really matter. For those of you who are wondering who Satya Nadella is, he’s Microsoft’s CEO. No it’s not Bill Gates, man you are really testing my patience today. Well at least I have taught you something today. Let’s call that my contribution to mankind. Some people invented Apple (God the creater, of course, lol you did not see that coming did you?) others invented the car, and I have taught something new. Who says we can’t be the same?

Whoa! I got to rein myself in. The tangent at which I’m digressing is not good at all. Anyway, today, actually not today but rather yesterday, 22^nd July, 2015 was my mother’s birthday. However, since I have not slept, and it is still 22^nd July in many other parts of the world, I shall maintain that I am not too late in writing a post wishing her a Happy Happy birthday.

My mother is the best mother a child can hope for. I know everyone says this about their mother, but I’m serious! She is the best and she at least deserves a blog post recognizing how awesome she is as a mother, that and the fact that she had to carry me for a whole nine months. All mothers carry their babies in the womb of course but I was and still am a healthy child. I was one of those heavy kids. Once of my uncles once said, “Wewe ulizaliwa kama ndama.” Which basically means I was born as heavy as a calf (you know I got to cater for my international audience omera) and as if that was not enough, my younger sister was even heavier than me! Our brother was not that heavy I suppose. I can’t really remember. All I remember about his birth was, one day we went to sleep as a family (each one in their room of course) the following morning my sister and I went to school only for dad to come for us at lunch time to take us to the hospital to show us our baby brother. I was in class four then and my sister was in class one. My mom was sedated at the time, it was magical. What made it more fun was the fact that my sister and I are the ones who actually decided where our baby brother would be born, not that we knew it would be a baby brother but I was hoping to have a brother, and convinced my sister to pray for a baby brother too. Feminists, don’t be on my case now. The blog isn’t about me, it’s about my mother. My sweet, blessed mommy. Actually, even when it came to deciding on the hospital where the baby would be born, I am the one who decided and my sister got on board. She used to look up to me so much. If I reveal some of the things she did so that she could be like her big brother I may never see the light of day again. I just wish things could have stayed the same, look at what you did puberty! Now I’m the brother who gets the grunts and screams and, “Get out of my room stop disturbing me!” manenos. Mahn I cri evritiem.

Anyway, back to mom, who had to bear through my naughty self and naughty childhood. I was a very energetic child, or so I like to think. One thing I know is that I used to have quite an appetite. The other day, on my graduation from university, my mom was recalling the days I was young. The stunts I used to pull so as to eat what I want. Apparently, one of the things I liked saying was, “Nimeshiba hii, lakini hii sijashiba.” I guess that pretty much applied to nyama and cabbage. I used to dislike cabbage a lot as a child. Githeri too, I remember being told of tales where I used to run to one of our neighbours’ place whenever mom cooked githeri at home. They  are called the Kiawa’s. Blessed and awesome family those guys are. The sons are like my two older brothers, Mwendwa and Mutisya. They used to leave one block away from where we used to live, we lived in block one, and they were in block three, upstairs. Should be house C3 if I’m not wrong. So whenever mom cooked githeri I’d run there and tell their mom, “Mommy amepika githeri na mimi sitaki!” and I’d chill there, till when mom comes to look for me. So what would happen is, if mom comes through the kitchen door, I’d get out through the sitting room door and run back home. If she gets through the sitting room door, the kitchen door would be my exit. Other times I’d hide under the bed and she’d think I was not there and she’d go back home. So one day, as I pulled the hiding under the bed stunt, she pretended she had not found me and she left, or so I thought. So after hearing the door get shut and waiting for a few minutes, I embarked on my exit plan. Opened the door with all the energy I could muster and ran down the stairs, taking two at a time, very proud of my cunning self. After all I had outwitted my mother, I take the turn on the stairs to keep going and lo and behold! There she was, waiting for me, on the stairs. Boy was I in trouble. Let’s just say that I never ran away from home whenever githeri was cooked again.

I think one of the most important things my mom has taught me, actually the most important thing is having a relationship with God. Both my parents have contributed here but moreso my mom because she was and still is a Sunday school teacher. She has been gifted with a talent for service to children. She just loves children. I sometimes think that if it was up to her she’d have like 11 kids a whole football team. She’d let dad coach us football and at half time we’d sing Sunday School songs. Head, shoulders, knees and toes would be our anthem I suppose. She has the patience to teach kids, the patience to calm kids down from running around to listen to the teacher. I think I’ll take credit for giving her the experience coz I tend to think I must have been a handful. Handling kids is not easy! I know this because at one point I contemplated joining my mom in the Sunday School ministry. I joined her one evening during Sunday School practice. It was during the end of the year and my home church usually has an evening Christmas concert after the kids have closed school before they go to their rural homes for Christmas. I was assigned various groups. I was to teach the boys group a song which was an uphill task. For some reason, boys never like to do anything in Sunday School. We just used to sit at the back and chill. No one would volunteer to read the Bible, no one answered the questions, we left all of that to the girls. When it came to singing, we’d just stand. I don’t know what is usually wrong with us guys at that age. We are just hooligans. I remember a time I was kicked out of Sunday School. Haha, yea I was kicked out of Sunday School, then the Sunday school teacher told on me to my mom who’s the overall head of Sunday school. I saw Mt. Sinai that day. That’s a story for another day. Anyway, so I have this group of boys who do not want to sing. I have to figure out how they will harmonize. So I told them to go home and memorize the words to the songs then we’d have a proper practice the following day.

After the boys left, I went and helped with the little kids. Now these were a proper handful. They were to sing and dance and for the dance they were to go round in circles. I can never forget that experience. I look back at it and laugh to this day. For starters, the kids cannot sing and dance at the same time, if they sing, they won’t dance and when they dance, they don’t sing. The whole going round in circles presented a whole new challenge in itself. The children turned the whole thing into a game of “chako.” For those who don’t know, chako is the Kiswahili or Kenyan version of, “Tag, you’re it” so you are busy trying to teach the children a song and everyone is busy saying, “Chako” even I, the teacher, was chakoed. And everyone is giggling and laughing. It was a happy time in all honesty. After that week though my Sunday School teaching career was over. Mom is still going strong. Almost every child who has grown up in my community/neighbourhood calls my mom “Aunty Gladys” even guys waaaay older than me. People in their late twenties and early thirties would meet my mom and go, “Auuunty Glaaadys.” Such is the impact she has had. Whenever I’m home and I take her car for a drive, kids see the car approaching and they run to the road and wave. They are like, “Hiiii Aunty Glaaaadys.” Then they look and see it’s me driving and they are like, “Oh it’s you!” and everyone turns back and goes to whatever it is they were doing before they were rudely interrupted.

So my mom has brought not only me but many others to the knowledge and fear of the Lord. That is one thing that is in her heart. She is so serious about things to do with God. I remember one time after Sunday School, my friend Kim and I decided not to go to church after Sunday School. Instead, we chose to go to Kim’s place to play Mario Kart. He had a Nintendo 64 and we were neighbours. So we go and we have mad fun until Kim’s parents come back home and that’s my cue to head home coz it means church is over. So I go home and my folks are already there. I say hi happily to them and immediately my mom is like, “I did not see you in church. Where were you?” and as I had rehearsed with Kim I was like, “I was seated at the back of the church today then I decided to walk home today.” Something that had neeever happened. I always waited for the ride home. Then she asked, “If you were in church, who preached.” This is the point where my sister’s head popped from the kitchen door. She really wanted to see this and she knew I was in trouble. I knew I was in trouble but I was fairly confident of my answer. See what we had done with Kim is, we had done an analysis of all the pastors in the community who had preached like for the past three months or so. We did all kinds of analysis Goldman Sachs analysts would have been proud. Trend analysis, probabilities, name them we did it and with some degree of confidence we arrived at the most likely Pastor to have preached. “Pastor Kiuta!” was my answer and boy did my sister laugh out loud. That is when I knew I was doomed. She was like pointing at my face and stuff and my mom let her do the honors of telling me who preached. “Pastor Kitur!” Mentally I was like, “Why didn’t we think of Pastor Kitur???” “You are an idiot Kalya.” Well, we forgot pastor Kitur because he rarely preached in our church. He had a church in town where he used to go. The day I miss church is the day he preaches! Talk of God calling you back to the fold. As always, mom referred me to dad for disciplinary action. Dad was the one who always disciplined me. My parents are firm believers of “Spare the road and spoil the child” and they did not want to take any chances, besides, they were still young and energetic. Nakwaambia, nilipelekwa kwenye chemba! Story for another day.

I can go on and on with stories of my mother. We will never finish but she is one strong woman. A blessed woman, well I’m her child soooo, on a serious note though she is blessed. A woman of wisdom. A prayer warrior. I remember on my birthday earlier this year she had gone with my aunt to a prayer mountain near home to pray. On mother’s day I usually go see her and surprise her because there is a women’s conference in Nairobi that Sunday that she attends. This year, however, I was unable to do so because I was going to minister I cant remember where exactly with Mabalozi. Those are the awesome peeps who I sing acappella with. Awesome brothers right there. So I texted her that I wouldn’t be able to make it this year and I’m sorry and her reply was, “It is well. I get more blessed by you being in church than in a mat coming to say happy mother’s day.” I have read it from my phone exactly as she replied. Man I was touched. Those are the kind of responses that make you say an extra special prayer for her. She stills complains that she should get her mother’s day chocolate however belated it is. Her love for chocolate made me realize that they never grow out of loving chocolate. Guys, if you think your lady is going to grow out of love with chocolate, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’ve presented exhibit A.

To my loving, caring, prayerful, kind, beautiful, thoughtful, intelligent, faithful, extra-ordinary, wise, joyful, patient, peaceful, funny mother, the woman-of-faith. The lady whose standards I shall expect my wife to reach to (I know my girlfriend is reading this. Hi honey). The mother of Peace, Joy and Righteousness (those are what our names mean, Kalya, Jebaibai and Imanda)

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday too you

Happy biiiirthday deeear moooommmyy

Haaaapy birthday to you.

May the good Lord Bleeess you

May he also guiiide you

Happy biiiirthday deeear mooommyy

Happy biiirthday too you

I know today’s post will get me branded a Mama’s boy, but you know what? I don’t care!

My First Stint at Entrepreneurship

Man it’s been a while since I last published a blog post *blows dust off blogpost* there we go. I should get a cleaning lady here coz the accumulated dust is just too much. Cobwebs all over! I think I just saw a rat running past one of my blogposts, the one on relationships that all you ladies loved. Hehe yes that one! The one that made me seem like the guy who got away, slipped right through your fingers. So near yet so far! The reason you’re still regret never hitting on me in the first place. Well bygones are bygones. No use crying over spilt milk is there? Unless you are one of those professional mourners Luo Nyanza is famous for, and the deceased was called Spilt Milk. Peculiar name though, I wonder what could have inspired the parents to name a child Spilt Milk. Probably after a long day at work Omondi came home to Akinyi having passed by the fresh milk ATM at Tuskys. He was feeling especially philanthropic that day and took one and a half liters of milk. It was the 22^nd of the month, mwezi ilikua ishapiga corner kitambo and that would have been enough to take you till like the 26^th then you survive the last four days till 30^th on Strong Tea. You know what? This story is not heading anywhere. I’ve tried formulating a scenario where a person would be called Spilt Milk but that has hit a dead end. The spilt milk has run it’s course. I don’t know why I find that statement funny. Anyway this was not why I decided to blog today.

Aha! Yes, my first entrepreneurship stint. When was it? Maybe it happened long ago but the first that I can remember was when I was in class seven, (that’s for those of us who went tp primary school) or standard seven (for all you folks who were in academies) or year seven or grade seven (my international audience). Guys who went to group of schools, what did you call them? I have no clue. I think I’ll take my child(ren) to a Group of Schools just to find out.

So where was I, yes, class seven. I started a business of sorts, I had no intention of starting the business but being the canny, shrewd businessman (okay boy) that I was, or rather, hope to be, I spotted a gap in the market and I moved in to fill it. I had these friends of mine whose mother used to sell ballgums. Remember them? Guys who went to group of schools maybe this is where I lose you. Ballgums are what were there before Mr. Berry came to the market. They are like marbles, but chewable and come in all sorts of colours. Anyway these guys used to have the ballgums and they’d sell to my friends after school or on weekends as we leave Sunday School practice. I never bought any since I did not have any money. I was a day scholar and my folks, in their wisdom, never saw it fit to give me any pocket money. What for? I stayed at home, lunch was paid for in school, we had tea break at 10:00 am. Actually that was for boarders, day scholars used to take tea at 11:05 am. Long story short, I didn’t need pocket money.

So everytime my friends bought ballgums I could look at them with envy. I loved chewing gum, though to be honest, let’s just say I loved chewing everything. Paper, biro tubes, pen lids. Chewing gum was close to my heart. I once had a panic attack while playing piano in the national music festivals, pretty embarrassing and traumatizing. Chewing gum  helped me through it. I later won the competition, true story! Ask Victor Nyamwalo, he was there, I beat him hehehe. He’s not going to like that. Anyway I wanted to partake in the chewing gum group. I wanted to be like the cool kids who could afford to buy ballgums. A ballgum was only one shilling by the way.

So what did I do? One day while my folks were at work, I went to where they usually kept their bedroom key (needless to say, they no longer keep it there. Each one of them has their own copy which they travel with) You see, my parents had this saucer where they used to keep their coins, I don’t know whose parents also used to do that. This saucer came in handy especially on Sundays. My dad would reach into the saucer and get the coins and give my sister and I offering. My brother was like 4 years old then, mom used to keep his offering. So I went to the saucer. It was like a pot of gold, a treasure chest. I wasn’t interested in much, I just took 10 shillings, just enough to buy me 10 ballgums.

I got the ten shilling coin, cleaned the place of my fingerprints hehe, locked the door, took the key to where it was kept and I was off to school for evening preps. I only had one stop before going to school, my pals’ place to by ballgums. I bought 10 of them, 7 for me, and 3 for my little sister. I am a good brother like that I had no intention of giving anyone in school since it was illegal to chew gum in school.

I threw one into the mouth, closed my eyes and sucked it first. Let the sweet flavours run through my tongue. I used to love doing that. Preserving the ballgum let it last for longer. I sucked it until all the colour is gone and the gum is white then that is when I could chew. That was it, I was happy at peace. I could chew happily ever after.

So I got to school for preps. As expected, you can’t chew gum without your pals asking you for some, especially boarders who had no access to chewing gum. My desk was flocked with like 15 guys all wanting gum. I was like, “No guys, the gum isn’t mine. I’m supposed to take them to my sister.” I was resolved, and it was working. The guys were getting frustrated, angry even. My resolve went on till one Samson Kiai said “I’ll buy them from you.” Those were the magic words. Like a lady being wooed, I turned and was like, “Now you have my attention, continue.” He made an offer, one shilling a ballgum. I thought and that is when my entrepreneurial spirit came in, “I can make a killing here!” I thought to myself and I gave my own counteroffer, “Two shillings a ballgum.” That’s 100% profit! Just like that. Guys were desperate for sugar and the offer was accepted immediately. I think the guy bought three of them at that time, and another three by other guys. I had chewed the rest already. So I had like twelve shillings with me. The business was on! Oh, and I never took any ballgum to my sister. Don’t look at me like that! I had to reinvest everything into the business! It was the only way.

Anyway, the following day I bought another 10 and sold nearly all of them. I got 20 shillings, my customer base was growing fast! Recommendations went beyond the four walls of my class and I had investors wooing me. It was paradise…..until when the same Samson Kiai decided to chew gum during our English class. “Samson stop chewing!” the teacher said, Samson stopped, for like fifteen minutes then he was back to it. Another ballgum, he was well supplied. “Samson! I said stop chewing! Come throw that chewing gum in the dust bin.” Noisily, he got up, disturbed nearly everyone, it was a combined class I think, where two classes come together. After another 20 minutes. He was back at it again! Chewing and pulling gum with his fingers *slaps forehead* anyway this was the straw that broke the camel’s back (kids write that down). “Samson Kiai, go wait for me outside the headmaster’s office!” and off he went. Idiot, he deserved that.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the headteacher was not there, so he was taken to the deputy head-teacher’s office. There was a break after the English class. Just before break was over, I went to the staffroom, to the Social Studies teacher’s desk to pick our books. I was the social studies class leader. The deputy head-teacher’s office was opposite the staffroom. As I left the staffroom, I could hear Samsom being interrogated. The kind of questions I heard sent chills through my body. Fear enveloped my. I stopped in my tracks, literally. I clearly heard the deputy head-teacher saying, “Samson, you must tell us who gave you the chewing gum! I know it must be a day scholar, it cannot be a boarder.” Man I was scared. I was shaking as I went to class. “Will he snitch? No he won’t! He better not. He should say that he was given during visiting day. HE BETTER NOT SNITCH.” That was all was going on in my mind. The teacher came in but as expected I was not concentrating.

A knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts. The guy on the other side of the door did not wait for the teacher to say, “Come in” before opening the door. Yes, you know it, a tall, bespectacled man came in, the deputy head-teacher! “Kalya, Kalya” that’s how he used to call me, “Follow me to my office.” I was scared. I had been snitched on.

From there the script was as usual. I was caned into confessing. “Yes I was selling ballgums in school.” I was then ordered to write down a list of every person I had sold a ballgum to. At that point I wished I was El Chapo, dig a tunnel right through the office. My empire was crumbling, albeit in a pool of tears, but it was crumbling. With shaking hands I wrote down every name I could remember. Sorry guys, I had no choice.

That evening, I chose not to go home for dinner. I decided to play football with pals till late. A few minutes to seven pm, I headed back to school for preps. Upon getting to school, my dad’s car was there parked! I nearly cried. Oh, I had failed to mention, my dad was the chairman of the school board hehe and here his son was running an illegal empire. Still, the deputy head-teacher should have kept matters to himself. Guys who know my dad know he is a disciplinarian! I was summoned to the deputy head-teacher’s office yet again during prep and to this day, my classmates know I was whacked by my dad in school. To clear the air, and my name, I was almost caned. He had gone through the motions, selecting the best cane and my deputy-headteacher stepped in, saying, “I think what I gave him was enough!” And that is the short tale of my first entrepreneurship stint. Samson owes me a business empire though. As you were!

Let Us Not Be Fooled By Alfred Keter

Today I am not going to beat about the bush. No pleasantries, nothing. So today the Kenyan political scene woke up to quite a bit of drama. Apparently, last night, two members of parliament, one elected and the other one nominated, Mr. Alfred Keter, the Member of Parliament for Nandi Hills and Madam Sunjeev Kaur Birdi (popularly known as Sonia Birdi) respectively, cause a scene at the Gilgil Weighbridge in Nakuru County over the release of a truck that had been detained. In a video clip recorded by one of the officers that went viral, "Honorable" Alfred Keter (I use "honorable' because the manner in which Mr. Keter carried himself in the clip, in my view, is totally unexceptable) showed blatant disrespect to the officers at Gilgil, insulting and intimidating them and using his position as a member of parliament to disrespect them. The whole video can be watched here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doJ5sj3OEIQ

As expected, the two MPs have since come out to try and save face and explain their actions. First, it should be noted that both of them are not remorseful for their actions with Mr, Keter saying that it was actually "Necessary" for them to do what they did.
The explanation given by the Member of Parliament was that he was actually complaining about corruption at the weigh bridge. While corruption is a scourge that is plaguing Kenyans, I would like us to look at this incident objectively. Regardless of the side of the political divide we support.
I am going to poke holes at the explanation given by the MPs and I am open to disagreements and correction, as long as it is objective and not sycophancy.
1. What I consider the most glaring hole in Keter's defence. He never mentioned or complained about a bribe that the officers allegedly asked for. Logic suggests that if you are complaining about something, you mention clearly what you are complaining about. What we see is a man wanting to have his truck released by all means necessary. He has not accused the officers of bribery, he has not threatened them with action for bribery, instead, he has threatened to have the contract rescinded, just because the truck was not released.
2. If you are truly fighting corruption, why go there at night with no officials from the Ethics and Anti Corruption Commission? Why go there to shout and insult officers? If you are going to complain about corruption, there are systems that have been made and procedures to be followed. Even if you are going by yourself, at least have some complainants and I do not think insulting police officers is fighting corruption.
3. On NTV news this evening, Madam Sonia was asked who the truck belonged to and she said that the truck belonged to people who she represents, business associates. Therefore, they were not there to fight for 'wananchi' but rather for their own personal interests. When the driver was interviewed, he said that after the truck was detained, he called his bosses to tell them. Here is what usually happens in normal scenarios if people do know someone high up in the government. You call that person, who calls someone else, who calls the officials at Gilgil (or wherever else) and the truck is released. In this case, this did not work. Mr. Keter was clearly angry about the calls not being picked, something that made him go to Gilgil personally in the dead of the night to have the truck released. When his mere presence did not work, he went on a rant. Personally, I think it is an ego thing. When you do something then you realize you are not as big as you thought you are or as important as you thought you are. I believe the MP thought that once the officers see him there, they'd wag their tails happily to "mkubwa's" tune, go on one knee apologetically and release the vehicle before aptly listen to the words of wisdom brought to them by "Waheshimiwa." Unfortunately this did not work and that is why he went on a show of might, Threatening to revert the contract, that the officers would lose their office in the morning, cussing, saying that "We make the law, and we can break it whenever we want." call it what you may but that right there is, Abuse of Office 101. There is nothing about fighting corruption there, Why didnt he ask for the release of other trucks wrongfully detained then?
4. If it is indeed fighting for corruption, why would the state house and other public officials distance themselves from the entire thing? I have not seen any one politician or cabinet secretary come out to support them....not even Sonko! You can correct me when I am mistaken. Instead, it is us Kenyans who have believed him. Drinking every word that we are being told.
5. Finally, why would anyone in their right mind ask for a bribe then proceed to film a video about it? We all know how it works. Normally, it is the victim who films video as proof of being harassed or victimized. Am I not wrong? You dont shoot yourself in the foot by asking for a bribe then going on to film it. If the member of parliament was indeed unhappy about the bribe, the police officers would have been apologetic! That I am quite sure of. Instead, they didnt seem apologetic. In fact you can hear the police officer saying that he has everything on video. From the time he was harassed along the highway to the office and that he would brief his colleague later. That doesnt sound like someone who had asked for a bribe.
I havent exhausted every possible loophole in that justification. It is a sham. I am just concerned by the amount of blind following and sycophancy that I have seen. It is especially more concerning when it is from people of my generation. All I am saying is, we should be objective as Kenyans. Especially people of my generation. The young adults. We are the people who are supposed to think beyond our party lines. If we see something wrong, we speak out against it. Let us not be misled. Colossians 2:4 says, "I tell you this so that no one will delude you with persuasive argument." That is pretty much my argument. Keter's side of the story just does not add up. Sure, he may have had the right motive, just maybe but the way he went about everything makes it doubtful. The story just doesnt add up and I just want my peers to be able to be objective and think. Sure, corruption is there and we need to fight it, we are fighting it bit by bit but let us not be fooled. Alfred Keter was not there to fight for "Mwananchi" he was the "mkubwa" called to have a truck of a business associate released in a process that went horribly wrong.....for him. So let us not start saying that he is the victim here.....coz he's not.

These Dressing Sheenanigans: My two cents

So this has been an eventful week, mainly spent attempting to study for my finals. You see, by finals, I mean like my final exams in undergrad. Like the last one totally. I am finishing campus you know, it is going finito, kaput! Exciting times I tell you. Anyway, before you go ahead and start questioning me why I am not studying for my exams which are starting tomorrow by the way, l felt like I had to give my two cents on this dressing matter that has been a cause of debate in this beautiful nation of ours this past week. In fact, I think I will just go ahead and call it a topic of national dialogue. Who knew that we would finally have a national dialogue? Only that it is not between Jubilee and CORD so all ye political sycophants reading this, keep calm. Don’t get too excited, we are just talking about dressing that’s all.

So apparently this week, there was an unfortunate lady who got “disciplined” by Embassava touts in Nairobi for indecent dressing. Well, all the rational people out here do see why I have put disciplined in quotes. So the discipline that this woman received was to be stripped of her clothes. If you haven’t seen the video, you can see it here.

Anyway, it goes without saying that the action caused uproar in social media and our radio stations. Well, I haven’t listened to local radio stations in quite a while (neither have I listened to international radio stations. I just haven’t been listening to radio lately) but from what I have gathered, it has been a topic of discussion in some of our radio stations and on twitter, there was the hashtag #MyDressMyChoice which I saw plenty of. On Facebook, there were a lot of comments and updates. Of particular note was the page, Kilimani Moms (or something of that sort) who I believe have come out the strongest to condemn that attack. I think it would be fair to call that whole incident an attack, an assault actually. Here is the interesting part, these Kilimani Moms have organized a protest for Monday, 17^th November, 2014 at Uhuru Park from 10 am protesting the attack and also advocating for women to dress however they want. After all, #MyDressMyChoice.

Let us get one thing straight. The attack was wrong! Plain wrong, no debate about it. I had to declare my stand lest some of you accuse me of being wishy washy and beating about the bush. The attack was wrong. No woman deserves to be treated in that manner. Yes, she might have responded rudely when the touts told her (in a manner that I would bet was also rude) to dress decently but despite that she should not have been stripped. That is the worst form of degradation.

Today in church my pastor, one George Murichu, got me thinking. He had a pretty solid argument as to why the touts behaved as they did. While they may claim to have been “disciplining” this lady, these guys were actually acting out of lust. What else could motivate a man to strip a woman of her clothes? Think about it. A man to go out of his way to take clothes off of a woman. There is no way you are going to convince me that that is not because of lusting after that woman. They just found an excuse to be barbaric. Yes, I said it! That was barbaric. While this looked bad, we also saw a milder version of assault or indecency if you would like to call it that not too long ago on Jicho Pevu when the guy Victor Kanyari handled a woman’s breasts before the congregation in the name of “Healing.” That is also lust and indecency just that it has found an “acceptable” way of being done.

All of this is quite troubling. Quite a number of us men have totally lost it morally. All this shows how there is quite an amount of disrespect being shown to women. It is an objectification of women. Many arguments and reasons have been put forth to try and explain this phenomenon. Pornography, especially, has been highlighted. I am not getting into a discussion about porn right now but I think the way guys talk and relate to each other has brought this whole issue. The rising trend of “socialites” isn’t helping either. Go to a corner where guys are standing, seated or whatever they are doing, as long as they are discussing, if they are not discussing about football, most probably they are discussing about women. Either this or their discussion about football is filled with interjections of “Damn! Look at that ass” or “She can gerrit!”whenever a fly chic passes by. These are followed by how many tales of conquests of sleeping around with chics, hiring prostitutes. One shocking thing that I discovered recently is that guys my age (barely in their 20s) do hire prostitutes….frequently! Call me naïve but seriously? I thought prostitutes was a mid-life crisis kind of thing, like seriously. That was so shocking but it goes on to show the level of objectification of women that has taken place.

Men we need to style up though. On a serious note we cannot go about stripping women for dressing indecently. Show some class and self-control. Decorum never hurt anybody my guy. I am not saying that we should not appreciate beauty in women. I, for one, have a pretty damn gorgeous girlfriend and I would not hesitate to appreciate her beauty. I confidently appreciate her beauty (if there is anything like that).  Besides, we are all made fearfully and wonderfully. There is a good thing in every bit of us. We do have women who dress outright indecently. We should tell them when they do dress indecently but once we do, we cannot force people to conform to our ideals and beliefs otherwise we would have had World War 3 by now. Tell her if she is indecent. If she listens, well and good, that is a good woman right there. If she does not, not everyone has to listen to you. Shake your head and move on. If you have to be expressive about it, write a blog my guy, or journal, or go legally hit someone (otherwise known as go play rugby) but do not strip someone’s mother, sister, aunt or friend of her clothes. It is respectful that way. The Bible in Romans 12:10 says

            “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.”

That is how we should relate. If your younger sister comes to you having a really short mini-skirt, would you strip her of her clothes? Exactly! I would do the same. I would ask her to change. Yes I might scold her for dressing indecently but I would have the courtesy of asking her to change. That is how we should be. Honor one another above yourselves.

To the ladies, c’mon! Don’t be arrogant too. Just because you cannot be stripped does not mean you have to go about dressing however you want. Not everyone is as nice as the guy you have friend-zoned. You will suffer one day. I don’t think wearing a decent skirt causes your knees to itch, if they do please tell me. That is a business opportunity. I would start a skirt company with itch less hems. The marketing line would probably something like “Kalya’s itch less skirts, if they itch they aren’t Kalya’s.” Also, who told you that Embassava touts are on twitter reading your #MyDressMyChoice tweets? Lol. Unless bebapay is connected to twitter, I don’t think that those tweets will change the guy who took part in stripping that lady. To the Kilimani moms, I would not advice you to go for that protest. You are just taking yourselves to the lions' den. Anyway, don't say I didn't war you. So please, let us all cooperate. My fellow gentlemen, let us behave ourselves, ladies, behave yourselves too.

Now that I have let that off my chest, I better get some rest and wake up early tomorrow to do some last minute reading for my exams, you know, the whole, I read towards the last minutes coz I will be older, hence wiser mantra hehe. Wish me success.