The peace treaty that started the war

The blind man came to bare witness
The deaf man came to hear the 'Hurrah'
The bachelors and their wives were present
So was the orphan accompanied by his parents

From nations far across the waters
They walked from home to the hall
Pulled the chairs and sat on the floor
Eagerly awaiting to see the young kings
Hugging from across the table
With a smile on their wrinkled faces
And signed the peace treaty that started the war

Letter To My MP

The Writer, P.O Box, 12345-00100, Nairobi, Kenya January 5, 2005

Dear MP,

Words cannot begin to explain how sorry I am for all that I have put you through for the past few years. I have thought long and hard about what happened and I realized how infuriated you must have been. First I started by taking your rightful title “Mheshimiwa’ from you which was accorded to you by birth right. Before your recovery from that, I demanded that we trade in you luxurious Mercedes Benz for a Volkswagen Passat. What was I thinking?? How could I subject you to the embarrassment of being down-graded you from a 5million vehicle to a poor man’s automobile that costs about 3million??

To add salt to injury, am now demanding that you pay taxes…am so sorry for this. It had escaped me that you still have a loan to pay – the one you took to build that mansion in Runda. Am told it has 8 bathrooms - all self contained. Am also told that if I continue demanding for tax from you, you’ll have to do away with the jacuzzi, gazebo, and swimming pool you were planning to add to your estate….a million apologies for that.

Before I forget, how are Mike and Michel doing??? Sources say that London is a lovely place to be, and not so cold around this time of the year. Is it true that you are now thinking of taking them to USA or Canada because education is cheaper there as compared to the Queen’s land? Am so sorry for failing to realize you have kids to educate and they need the best education money can buy. No parent who has kids to feed and educate should be subjected to the backbreaking imposition of paying taxes.

I also apologize for ruining Mrs. Mheshimiwa’s plans to go to London to do her hair and laundry. I forgot how the water in our taps are dirty and  most probably will ruin those  Christian Dior, Alexander McQueen, Mark Jacobs gowns she has. Wonder how I forgot that even Wanjiku is forced to take her clothes to either South Africa, or Seychelles to have them cleaned since we have no professional dry cleaners in our country and she cannot clean them herself.

Times are hard and a man got to do what a man got to do. From now henceforth, I’ll start minding my Ps and Qs – no interference in your hustle.

• Our country has vast land resource and you are allowed to grab them and develop them. There is no point of reallocating the IDPs in some of these areas, or giving it to the squatters and issuing them with title deeds.
• The  molasses plant, nothing was really coming out of that…the government was not taking care of it and you decided it’d be more profitable were it a private company. Thank god you took it.
• As for the maize, no need to wait till that point it gets contaminated with aflatoxin. Better eat it as early as possible, right?
• Our schools keep producing empty debes year after year. What’s the point of funding these institutions??? The money is better spent expanding your business empire, I’d say.

I am really sorry for creating the situation which I know I should have handled better. I admit that I am in the wrong by demanding you pay taxes, reducing some of your powers and can only say how sorry I am. I can promise you that this will never happen again and hope that you will give me the opportunity to elect you again in 2012 so as to prove this to you.

I understand that it might be difficult for you to accept my apology but hope that this letter will help. I will call you later this week to apologize in person(hoping your number will not be Mteja) and hope that you will be able to give me another chance.

Yours Sincerely

The Writer

If Tomorrow Never Comes

I’m sure most of us if not all have had these lyrics by Garth Brooks.

“If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way
To show her every day
That she's my only one
If my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never come”

I listened to the song yesterday and a storm of thoughts came upon me. It made me wonder; have I done enough, said enough, shown enough to those around me for them to actually get what I actually feel and thing of them?? No one thing is certain in this world other than death itself. One can be health and breathing one moment and gone the next carrying with them all that laid in their heart and mind. Well, I now take this opportunity to say that which is in my mind, heart, or even both. (Names not mentioned for security reasons)

Bro from another mother

I wonder who went astray….your dad or mine….lol. But you the one person I’d count on when passing through butter or emery cloth. You are the one person that will tell me the truth even when it’s a bitter pill to swallow. For all that I thank you. O! and thanks for your stories, they always remind me am not the only one whose life is all twisted….hahaha

*******

Am sure out there in one of the parallel universe, a me is saying to a version of you

“When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are”

Musical accountant

Your wits and comic statements remind me of Hiro Nakamura……am not sure if this is the reason I got, or had (my mind and body seem to be communicating on different frequencies) a crush you :-)

The actor

Never in my life have I met someone who carries a past as heavy as yours so gracefully. Most people would be damaged or broken by now. At times I wonder if you are a serial killer….lol – most people as complex as you are turn out to be. I envy and admire you. I still admire your ‘John Travolta’ chin. Can I have it and sire kids with it??? Lol

The Hippie

Weed consumer, tree huger, and the only Oreo friend I got. You’re so horribly white it’s not even funny…..from your dressing, to your dancing. Were it not for the fact you were my friend, I’d have called Cartman to come kick yah ass…..lol

Doctor

You claim that my perspective of the world and all it holds is weird and psychotic….but I beg to differ. But on that note, u one complex fella, more like a rubik’s cube….am yet to decipher you.


Am sure most of you will think that using a blog to convey the above message is a sign of weakness and cowardice, but a brother got to start somewhere, right?? Now lemme gather more courage and soon I'll do it face-to-face

Bureaucratic Bureaucrats

If you thought that the government offices in Kenya got bureaucracy, then you probably haven’t tried our brothers in the pearl of Africa. These guys give bureaucracy and red-tape a whole new meaning. The true bureaucratic bureaucrats. Like one coasterian used to state, “Ham’toshi mboga”. I managed to make a trip over there past weekend to pick my certificate….was all excited. Had missed the place, some of my friends but had only a few days to go and come back since I now got obligations in the form of work.

The trip was lovely ‘d say. 12hrs by bus and loving every hour of it – well, apart from the Meru mama who was my seatmate. She had a million and one Qns that seemed never to come to an end. My mama taught me never to speak to strangers – I have no idea what her mama taught her. It was irritating since to begin with she was not allocated that sit. She just moved to that spot since it was empty and she had been allocated a sit at the back end…wish she had sat there and go all that journey being jotted up and down each time the bus runs over a pebble. Maybe, just maybe she’d get the wits to stop talking to strangers *mean* tihihi

I got to Uganda the next day, went over to a pals place for a shower and freshening up b4 hitting campus to begin the process. I got to my former Alma Marta

and went to the faculty to get my financial statement – it’s the 1st step towards getting ones certificate. So I approach this lady woman to ask for my financial statement and she tells me the system is down. Felt my plans coming down as a house of cards. On my way out, I decide not to go back to my pals but try the accounts office and see if that will bare any luck. I get there and they tell me to go back to my faculty and pick the document from there. I being the polite guy I am I tell him in the most calm and polite manner

“I’ve been there and I was Informed that the system is down.”

“The system is not down. Your faculty is the one that hosts the system and if I can access it, so can they.” He said

At that moment the picture of that woman’s fat face dressed in red outfit passed thru my mind like a slideshow. A smile escaped my lips. I set forth back to my faculty and decide to try a different person other than the woman. A guy was my pick and he tells me to go back to Senate building

to room 615 and tell them to upgrade the record 1st then get the financial statement. I obliged, but when I got to the office, they told me to go back to my faculty and pick it from there. I felt like screaming at some1, anyone. I wished I had a pillow to bite on and scream, but sadly I had none. Had no option but to go back. This office was now getting on my last nerve….felt like I was in an episode of Day Break – each time I think I’ve made a step forward am taken back to the start. The guy was busy typing something and told us to wait. It was taking a while so I decided to try lady #3. She exchanged words with the devil in red and smiled. I’ve been in that land for 5yrs so u bet I picked a few words here and there. From the little I could gather, the ‘Devil’ told her that she had told me the system is down but seems I don’t believe her…#3 laughed then told me to wait and see if she can access the system. I took a site Minutes later after she moved the mouse up and down without clicking anything, she turns to me and says

“The system is down.”

I could have gone all psycho on them, but that would have been a waste of a good reaction to stupidity. The chick is so blond that she could not actually note that from where I was sitting, I have a full view of her monitor and I could see that the only screen that was open was the Nero window. And people still wonder why my blood and that of our Uganda brethren is like water and oil. I stay put till the guy finished and he called me. Told him am from Senate and they’ve said I pick the document as it is. He prints it for me but not missing to complain bout how Senate thinks they have a lot of papers to waste. I picked my document, back to 615, it was signed and I was told to deliver it to room 501. It was almost lunch and the officers requested we go for lunch then come back later. I called a pal in who I was to hook up with, went for lunch then got back like at 2pm. I finally got my document

Always Tell The Truth No Matter What

A kid is in the playground one day and hears the word ‘Msenge’ shouted. That evening he goes back to home and asks the dad,

“Eeh baba, neno *Msenge* lamaanisha nini??

The dad embarased replies, “Lamaanisha rafiki mwanangu.”

A while later the kid gets to learn a new word….goes back home and asks the dad;

“Eeh baba, neno *Kuma* lamaanisha nini???

The dad both shocked and embarased tells the son;

“Lamaanisha Mwavuli”

One evening the son comes back with another new word picked from the playground.

“Baba, neno *Fira* lamaanisha??”

The dad is so emparassed that he cannot look the kid in the eyes…but he decide to reply

“Lamaanisha kuoga mwanangu.”

One day the rain is heavily pouring and the kid is indoors when there is a knock at the door. He goes to open and his dad’s friends are out there.

“Shikamo *Wasenge* wa baba??”

The visitors are infuriated by the kid’s utterance.

“Karibuni ndani na muziache *Kuma* zenyu hapo inje zinyunyize maji”

The men cannot believe their ears. They are infuriated. They ask the boy where the dad is for they’d wish to speak to him.

The boy replies, “Baba yuko juu yuafira”

ALWAYS TELL THE TRUTH. Its better than the alternative....

Birds - gods of gods

From the title of this blog am sure most of you think I'm insane, gone nuts, sick, twisted. Am sure some extremist will label me blasphemous. But before you go out of your way to give me titles, just spare me a minute to defend myself and see if I can show you why I believe the birds are the gods of gods. If by the end you're still not convinced to give me the benefit of doubt??? Well.....

We have been taught ever since we started learning that the gods are all seeing, powerful creatures that live in the skies. They look down on us from up above, seeing all, hearing all, being everywhere. Let me ask you, have I not just described birds? The gods are the kings of kings and when they project their voice, all mortals follow their direction; their command. Lets take the case of a Rooster, with its head adorn with the crown of fire, and when the Rooster(king) crows, does not every man, woman, and child get out of bed and start the days errand??

When It comes to religion and believes, the birds have been used here and there. The Eagle typifies power, resurrection and generosity. In the same way that a lion is considered the king of beasts, the Eagle is considered to be the king of the air and the messenger of the highest Gods. Mythologically, it is connected by the Greeks with the God Zeus, by the Romans with Jupiter, by the Germanic tribes with Odin and by Christians with God. The Dove is used by the Christians to represent Third Person of the Blessed Trinity......The Holy Spirit. It is also used as a symbol of peace.

The Crane is a symbol of long life and immortality, health, happiness, wisdom and good luck. The Falcon signifies, "A Light that Shines in the Darkness". The Nightingale suggests love and longing. The Owl is synonymous with death and darkness; yet it can also bring wisdom, insight and virtue. The Peacock heralds spring, birth, new growth, longevity, and love. The tiny Sparrow, represents the love of God for even the "least" among us.

Let me not start on the number of nations that use birds in their seal, coats of arm, or emblem. The seal with the almighty Eagle the guardian of our world superpower USA, its also used by Germany, Russia, Romania, Poland, Mexico, Iraq, Indonesia, Yemen, Egypt, Ghana, Namibia. The Dove in North Cyprus. The Falcon in Kuwait's. The Hawk used by Syria, Libya. The Secretary bird used by South Africa, Sudan. The Ugandan Crane. This are just but a few states that use birds on their coats of arm, emblems, or seals. Oh! You all thought I had forgotten the Rooster on our beloved coat of arm, right?

As I finish up, I'll leave you with some thoughts to ponder upon. Why do we use the winds to make some creatures superior and divine in comparison with other?? The wings sets aside Pegasus to be a winged divine horse. In Christianity, a set of wings is what is bestowed upon the angels...the divine messengers of God. And here is a final thought. The birds are all knowing. Nothing gets done without them knowing its happening.....hence the phrase 'a little bird told me'.

Unknot and begin the unraveling.

All if not some of us can proclaim that at one point in their life they've ever felt down, like the road taken is untakable, that the burden they have is too heavy for them to carry, like they are

Atlas carrying the world over their shoulders. I have felt that at not one, two, or even three, but many times in my life. Of late the thing that almost pushed me to the edge was my endless search for a job. After putting too much effort to get to that esteemed institution called a university so as to get a decent job only to be dropping flat on my face each tym i try to flap my wings and fly. I managed to get this 'job' with one big firm in our city. The terms of the contract was a probational period of three months then permanent employment later. For those three months the responsibilities that were bestoed upon me were one that even a kindergartten student can do. Who wouldn't manage using a bucket and rug to wipe off dust??? I bared with the situation for the three months because i saw the light at the end of the tunnel. A permanent job. Three months after, I got to realize the light was dimming then finally switched off. 'To hell with the lot' I said, and downed my bucket and rug. Better enjoying hours of rest than being missused. Been enjoying my rest from that day....but once in a while I get out in the field and see if my wings can flap and fly me away.....I still fall down flat on my face to the point of wondering if the gods have something against me.

As much as things get worse, and am pressed between a rock and a hard place, there is one thing that gives me strength. I know that someone somewhere is having it worse. When I cry of a shoe, there is someone who is in a hospital getting ready for amputation to save his life. When I'm sad I didn't get cash for lunch, I'm reminded of those in northern Kenya who are struggling with drought and have been reduced to just a shadowy shell of skeletons wrapped with skin, of those in Dar-fur whom food is not only their worry but also trying to make every breath they have not their last - hoping tomorrow will be a much better day than the former. When I wonder what to do with my excuse of a phone(trust me, its one second away from meeting its maker through murder by smashing it to the wall), I take solace in the fact that I got a gadget that can call, text, and help me communicate with friends and family.

Its written that we fall just but to get back up again. So each tym I fall, I'll get up, dust myself and go back in the field and try to flap....flap...and flap some more. Maybe the skies are not ready for me yet, but when this bird starts to fly, by Jehovah, Allah, Indra, Zeus, or whoever is in charge of the heavens, the skies better be big enough for there is no landing this.

As I wand up, lemme leave you with a few words by Sheri Reynolds

“When I've used up all my rags and lies, rope and hair, fabric and love, when I'm out of twine and my loom is broken and there's still a story in me to tell. That is when I unknot and begin the unraveling.
My rugs are never finished. I use the same materials to make them over and over again, featuring something new each time and hearing a different tale. But sometimes they speak the most wisely when they are heaps of fiber on the pack house, intermingled and waiting.
If I sit with them silent for long enough, they will talk. Just listen, I can give them tongues. They speak like prophets.”