I feel so good. Maybe even high. On a high so great I want to float there for a long while. I celebrated my dear friend on his birthday and being in that space felt quite refreshing. This space oozes selflessness and love. A group of people from different walks of life coming together on a Tuesday night to celebrate life, ah if this isn’t love. I haven’t been to a party in a while and for me to leave a 12 hr shift and step into a bar till midnight and have to work the next day is a big deal. My watered-down Vodka O might have played a…
Having lost my mum at the age of 9 you would assume that by now I have moved on. I compartmentalized my emotions all through my childhood and teenage years. I confronted this trauma in my twenties. Having a strong and patient support system who values open communication and helps you go deep into your core eases you to slowly open up the little boxes suppressed in the corners of your brain. So once I felt safe enough to open these boxes I embarked on my healing journey. Contrary to how my peers might have experienced me, I was a hurting child carrying burdens I didn’t have words for. I…
I am honestly so pissed and emotional right now that I could blow up. I am trying to gather my thoughts and feelings because I don’t want to lose it. It’s not worth it. I have witnessed firsthand how depressed some of us are over here. Far away from loved ones and the ties we have with family are what keep us stuck sometimes. The entitlement. The deceit. The blackmail. The ingenuity. Name it. Most of us not only went abroad in search of greener pastures for ourselves but also to be able to give a hand to our families back home. We want to be in this together. We…
I realized I lost my wallet last week on Friday. I panicked since I have never lost one and all my cards were in it. As a young black hard working independent kikuyu lady the first thing you think of is your monies wueh. I ransacked my bags and my entire apartment. I checked under the bed and mattress. My wallet was nowhere to be found. Did I loose it in Germany? Did I leave it at a store in Prag? Was it taken from my backpack in the Metro? My bank card was gone. You know how nowadays you just swipe without putting in your password … I couldn’t…
The imperfect duo that gave me a home, and even when we disagree they are still home. A beautiful set sent only for my heart to experience not only, the beauty of humble beginnings but the elaborate joy of a firm family.
She breathed her last; goodbye
I was in Nairobi at my dad’s sister’s house. I was passively watching television in the evening when my mommy’s elder sister came in. A few hours prior, my auntie had received a telephone call. Telling from her posture, mimic, and tone, it didn’t seem to be good news. She gasped and I felt that something dark had happened. I am one who has always needed confirmation. I hate to assume stuff. So I sat there my heart racing fast not knowing how to behave. I acted as if I wasn’t in the room but I could feel my aunt’s gaze on me. I glanced at her and saw her…
I feel angry with a sprinkle of bitterness. I have never been grateful to be far away from family like I feel right now. The last place I would want to be right now is with my larger family. I don’t want to share a meal with people who think you owe them your life. People who will stoop so low to remind you every chance they get how you would not have survived if it were not for them. People who act God.
For the love of sex
I have been on mother earth long enough to learn to be more comfortable in talking about everything sex. A complex topic. Learning and unlearning what sex is and what sex isn’t. Most importantly I have unlearned that sex isn’t bad manners. Sex isn’t sin. I wonder how many people refer to this act as “tabia mbaya” bad manners. I picked that up as a child as sex always went by that description. For me, having been brought up in a household most of you would be familiar with, sex wasn’t and unfortunately still isn’t an easy topic to dive in with the folks and even siblings. Mention the word…
Minding “my own”
A few weeks ago on a beautiful evening, I was just about to get to my apartment when I passed this lady in the hallway. Like the well-mannered girl I am, I said hello looking straight at her. I value greetings so much that I blame it on how I was raised. I will feel offended if I greet you and you don’t greet me back. I don’t get it when people disregard greetings. If you ignore me I’ll wonder who hurt you or what I did to not deserve a hello from you. I don’t like to harbor these kinds of feelings. It’s unsettling that living in Vienna and…
Wet kisses on a wrinkled face
Sometime last year I had a vital grown-up conversation with my slowly aging dad. I hate to say aging because well, he is daddy and I want him to forever show no signs of aging at all, to stay strong and healthy as I’ve always seen him to be. I have the fondest memories of him. Like, I remember him bringing us vanilla and chocolate wafers anytime he came back home from work and us running to his open hands, him picking us up without staggering and one by one throwing us in the air and us landing back into his arms. At times we would cling onto his body…