sunset saga

Childhood is such a gift. The fact that at one point you were a child is just amazing. From poor family or a well off family you just found a way of enjoying your childhood. When you had no heartaches because of oil and gas prices. You didn’t even care about prices because... why would you? You got scars that became lessons and good memories as well. When I was a child my mother wanted me to be a pilot and our pastor used to call me Doctor. I didn’t know what I wanted to become but my father wanted me to be who I want to be. All is well because I’m here being what I didn’t intend to be but it’s all working well. God’s plan you know… Childhood is fragile. In my reference books childhood to some capacity defines who you become. This might be scary! Story Story In 1929 when my grandfather was having his 5 th birthday party a couple living in the mill town of Alcolu, South Carolina were proudly blessed with a baby boy. They were blacks, African Americans. They lived in a humble comp...

There are three parties here, but more if you’re keen. Friday it is. Late in the evening, the sun is going back wherever it came from in the morning. The horizon is beautifully colored by the setting sun. In Muthiga people are busy getting drunk, if you’re not getting drunk you just feel crazy happy.  It is Friday you know.  I was heading to the hospital. I needed to get there quick, someone was there. Someone important. I jumped into a matatu, we headed to Naivasha road. It was playing some annoying music. You can’t ask them to change the music or switch it off. You can’t argue with a tout in Nairobi you know, they are like African moms who believe in prophets. I chose endurance. I leaned back and put my bag on my laps as the music throbbed my eardrums. At the Nairobi hospital, having lost my way a couple of times I bumped on her. The lady I came to see. She was not sick; someone else was. He was going in for surgery in the next few minutes. We were not allowed to see him. ...

  Beautiful days are seen in the morning. Those who thought they were wise said that. But sometimes beautiful days are seen  late in the evening. I was home with a good friend of mine, call him T for Tom. A friend that we’ve been with through tough hurdles of life. We get along like a house on fire. We were having coffee in the evening doing some boy talk. Him telling me how he loves baby mama dramas like Kenyan celebrities. We were deeply indulged in our conversation, talking about this common phrase 'what next after campus.' I had graduated a month ago and was already desperately looking for a job.  I had applied for jobs and internships but had got no feedback from wherever. I was already feeling frustrated but my guy kept telling me ‘bro it’s been only a month and a half’. Amidst our conversation my phone rang. I thought it was Nyakamagambo. Around this time she would call me to go and pick animal feed by the road from the nduthi guy. She keeps poultry, a dairy cow an...

  Yet another Tuesday, of a father and a son. After working your ass off in high school, the government sponsors you to the university. A few years ago, he stepped into the college gates with his father. His mother is disabled so she didn’t travel to the city. The city is a busy place, it’s hectic to move around with a disabled person. She was amputated because she had cancer. He was a young lad then, barely 19. Fresh from the village, with no life experience in the city. He just lived by the tales he heard. You remember how people used to tell you that in Nairobi you can’t make a call in town? That the phones just vanish like there are ghosts in town? Or someone just come and tell you to give them your phone and you give them without a word in the broad day light. They demand your charger and because of your fear you ask them if they could take the earphone too just be left in one piece. As if that’s not enough you’re forced to give them a push and tell them to have a fruitful day...

  The day ended in such a mess. Not how you would want your Saturday to end.   He pulled the door handle and got into his room. The door followed him slowly and silently. With a shattering sound it locked. It was dark inside.   A string of thoughts traversed his mind. He felt heavily burdened. He gazed through the window and listened to the monologue of the blustery wind that swept the sprays of rain.  A queer feeling engulfed his soul. What you feel when you’re down to earth and can’t even explain to yourself the kind of feeling you have. For the first time he felt like he didn’t have a family. Like they were just people he knew . A young sister, a father and a mum. She was not his biological mum, but he never treated her any lesser than he would have treated his real mum. He kept staring outside as the rain swept through the wrought iron fence.  Things had changed drastically and he couldn’t find a reason why. His father had never been this careless with his...

Have you ever had a friend you love? You love them like your mother or even just as you love yourself?  Anyone? Okay I have some. If you don’t, perhaps you should consult Leviticus 19:18. We all have something we love, if not your pet then maybe your bicycle.  A beautiful set of scars, that carry a great deal of memories. They grow beautiful day by day. They were once ugly and seen like some sort of a curse. I guess they felt how you feel when you are rejected by your family. But for some reason now they feel at home, like you feel when you make peace with someone you love after years of bitterness. They feel like they have a home, and that home is you. Sometimes you just have to make peace with your past to save your future from becoming a constant battle.  There was a scar, or scars mayhap. It wasn’t strange because we all get hurt when we are children. You don’t know how but you just couldn’t stop loving things that left you scars. That’s what children do best right? M...