Author: veenafuna

Of April showers

It has rained for a couple of days now. The meteorological department in my mind needs just one more day of mild showers before we register rainny seasons innit.

That intro was in my mind for a while and its safe to say its officially sunnysidedown days. April has the gayest sky. April has the brightest sunsets. Dont google,its not proven just yet.

I am a creature of habit. My favourite has to be journaling,the writing that i engage in uncompelled and for my own good. With a keener consideration however,i think i do it for mines and others well being too. Here i go again with my favourite toxic trait of romanticizing everything in my life and exeggerating my position in peoples lives. Pass me my dues and a crown in tow.

With the gay skies,we still managed to savour most days with a level head. Towards the end,i did a number of very personal videos addressing myself.

Other days,i listened to loud blasting music,proof of life and actually believed that it gets better. I sang out loud and hoped. Other days,i would lock out the rays and flip and turn till when the bed cannot take anymore of me. That is when i got up and curled in my phone. Bills and debts long overdue messages serve as goodmorning. There is no other way to spending such a day other than sulking and soaking in.

I serve my breakfast late and without proteins so i can let my body use up its reserve. Slow on the chores because how else. No music on such days.

We await may,with open hands. Be kind

I go through old chats and pics

Looking for pieces to patch and pinch

Trying to see what is lost off me

And admiring what I gained while at it

I raise a score card from strangers and new friends

Its the only way I could enjoy lies

Warm precise and shallow

Short and very late replies

No calls to keep the night company

With speculations and fantasies

And wishes on smooches

And misses on disses

The only way round,looks like a way out.

Of hustle mentality and burn outs

Responsibility,of any kind calls for consistency and a lot more. I was lacking in both and not liking it. Talk of the process not processing. I delibarated on creative block knowing too well it aint it. There has to be something else.

I am the tiny fraction of creatives that dont have a creative process. Just irked randomly by the slightest motifs and we are creating already. The danger to this type of free fancy will is one day,someday or most days you wont find anything appealing to write about.Then you are drowned back to a whole load of days without content to share. Then follows the guilt of not being good enough a blogger.

The trigger to this self effacing thought is the emails that bombard my mailbox from creatives who i have subbed to their work,effortlessly simulating content on a daily. Then comes the idea to force work to fit the title on the badge you wear. You begin to write anyway and half way through theres a strange smell and a strange type of feels. Coming from the trashy compilation infront of you.

The cycle starts all over again like a loop. Never ending.

But i am making peace with how i take up my creative space. See,i acknowledge that i am cut differently and that uniquely. A special niche.
Understanding that i dont have to do it like anyone else. Frequency and tune are not all similar always all the time.

Welcome to my world. Oh and i discovered much of my good writs are manufactured when i am journeying to some.place. my brain likes it when we move.

how not to cook

its me again with a recipe but qiuck look at how we have beeen doing after the last time we were here to rant. My hair and skin have been popping with nit a single special routine and i am taking videos for the fun of it. maybe this is the best we will ever have, or it gets refining all the way down who knows. I havent cooked a solid meal in a long time because i have been on transit. What else puts me on the wheels more than the balls i bounce? I went to the other side of time to dribble and we fell short of the big trophy because fatigue. They say winners dont have excuses, so thats the most i can gather before i sound like a loser.

I havent been home for 3 months but for these months i was a cook for hire at no fee because thats what girls like me do. Moms has a tendency of overbearing. She will do her chores and stretch to yours too just not laundry. She keeps cooking and she makes her meals pretty fast that you barely get some flavour out but well.. you know what they say about mothers always being right.

so after the homesick and transit i sit in the kitchen and make a meal for my ususally very big family. saardines it was . mom doesnt stalk her kitchen with spices because she doesnt use them because her health.. even the bare minimum of tomatoes . so yes i sit to make my stew and boom i notice she indeed has nothing to fry the tomatoes with all while the oil is already heated up.

i decide dto crisp up the sardines and the first criticism came from dad. i cant quite recall his exact words but it was something of new crisp in town. ah next time you making a meal make sure you check up all you need. basic ,right? no this is not about food.

Just found out about vegans. Oh not just that, lactose Vegans. From the name guess you can have a clue of it already. Milk vegans.

Then there is vegetarians, i am yet to know their specifics. Fruitarians,those who only eat fruits. There is fruitarians who take fruits which have fell down. Which one are you? Or you just like me,the onlything we dont take is poison. Anyways,feed what you eat good people.

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMENS DAY

There is alot to say about this very historic and important day for women. The women in my life are amazing. my online pack is also quite a force . may you be rooted on your femininity alittle more this season. also why are women associated with pink.? dont tell me about softness of the colour pink please. drop acomment on why pink is used alot on women.

I have been alot like that women they do pilot scripts about. The villain who has it all and has nothing tangible really. I am slowly learning a culture of little to no complaints because that is what believers do. Well that said here is why i am here..

i hail from a country with undeniably the highest number of online bullies . there has been domestic research that ranks Kenyans on Twitter as top notch bullies . They get into arguments with virtually anyone that dares to irk them in any way. they are so compact and have multiple pseudos making it very hard to track any down in an attempt of taking legal action against the verbal abuse they put people through. the bullying culture is so deep rooted that even own president was bullied out of twitter space. when asked later why he left the platform he dully noted that kenyans are bullies . in light of all these, there has been a viral video of a woman being harassed in her own vehicle by motorists. one woman vs a pack of 16 motorists. i had joked about attending classes of martial arts so i can learn self defense. after seeing that video i can only attest that fighting back such a huge number of people and men for that matter for touching you inappropriately- groping is only possible on set. so I cancel the martial arts class .It sounds like a classical joke to an illiterate audience.

i have come this way all blurbing and digressing so what really is the course or rather personage to this write up.? after the video went viral, the usual turn of events took course. women with titles took to their social media accounts to strongly condemn the incident. the next day which is today happens to be IWD. They went on with the tags and strong messages in their platforms. does this sound like a rant? because that is just exactly what this is about. my country has nurtured to maturity a culture of bullying so much that it is pointless to think any online campaigns and affirmation can even remotely amount to a solution to any physical problem. much less one as deeply rooted as sexual harassment. one thing begins to stand out, that maybe the problem is beyond us.

i chose my blog over my diary for this rant because i believe i could get honest feedback on what can be done going forward beyond just messages of strong condemnation and task forces

i just remembered this one time as a finalist when i was almost harassed. coasterians are identified as a perverted lot of kenyans. their swahili slangs are sharp and vulgar much. i am a a sucker for minidresses . so i was donned in my favorite small skirt going to class. then boom an old guy pulls over in his range. i returned his greetings but kept walking because i didn’t like the ogle show he was trying to pull. he then went ahead to say that if i gave him a chance with me, i will flow with milk and forget my name. he said this loud enough that nearby motorists laughed and clapped at the absurd joke. they even added that people dressed like me deserve to get raped. the guy in a cool ride is still driving slowly by my side. i entered a nearby hotel to catch my breath. if i was light skinned you would have traced the flush on my cheeks. i was puce with rage.

when i got out one motorist was waiting outside. he asked me how much i wanted and stretched out his hand towards my thighs. i summoned my spirit animal which usually is a dove but it came as something of a lioness. i hit him so hard across the face and told him the next time he comes after me i wil kill him. students were already starting to gather around us. he turned his motorbike and fled. i hear nowadays they call me yekuza. the catcalling when i don short skirts and dresses ended.

i wonder how many women could be facing the same on a daily. some have ben groped while wearing baggy jeans. for fear of being attacked the more or being gang raped they cannot be Yekuzas. for how much longer will we suffer under thirsty perverted bullies? how much longer will we lift fists online and do nothing tangible on the ground.

nothing happy about this day honesstly. my heart aches.

venus is rising

you really didnt take seriously or did you? the title. i know as much astrology as i know mathematics and italian. for relativity i didnt study law in campus because mathematics. duo lingo did something like kick me out of their italian class . i was always confusing the pronoun for l`oumo and farfalla if that means a girl, could that be reason to have my dream trashed that bad.

so it is week three of february and we survived a giftless valentines yet another year in sworn love relation with baba boi. all the tweets of if he wanted he would have tried are really messing me up big time. much of which is behind me now.

now thinking of it indepth, i feel venus is falling. but i doubt if that really is a thing. my biggest trouble in life as in basketball is capped in the gambler. i really dont know when to stop and when to run. proudly picking the wrong signals with not a good explanation infact i honorably embarass my entire clan while throwing the dice to the gamble. well, about venus rising,.my adultimg script may have been written in armenian because a girl is struggling to pick cues. one moment i am fully aware of what i want and another i am swept completely off my feet without a warning of any kind. but the grace with which i pick my Ls with will put you to question and in doubt of my sanity,

a whole week of dishing my cv and letter of good word got me real tired. thinking of which in a world full of variables why is there a standard way of writing cvs? shouldnt we go straight to the point of telling the employer,hey good person, i have bills to pay and this opening could be of help. on the cover letter, you fill up deets of mantra and informal profile. or creatively answer what is that thing that could get you fired? these thoughts messing me up because my phone said it cant take pictures because the temperatures were too high,the ghetteaux..

when venus stops rising i will tell you about y new yogi beliefs,failed meditations ,update my how not to cook recipes and the games we play. i have a good one too on GBV and SGBV,first hand account . may you day be as easy as adeles voice loves.

Treks

I am believer who is curious. In soliciting for answers to the philosophical questions my mind levels against me I keep asking if rally the doubt is worth the much i have . while rummaging through socials yestarday I came across nihilist. I saw the description on her bio and was thrilled by the word which my mind convinces me is not new. I quickly look it up on the dictionary and the disappointment was beguiling. Yet another new one. I had envisioned my self going by this description of a new fancy word but, no thanks. I put my theological, moral questions to sleep and walk bare feet

and have a feel of new rum

and practise active vinyasa

and kiss a girl in my dreams

and repent on sunday

but to live in complete disregard;no mafia. We soft please. have a soft week, shall you.

Chronicles

The time is a while after 6:30 and ofcourse i was up already making breakfast. I dont like picking calls that early,if you have bad news better text a girl. I love breaking my heart on my terms. Margin of error for exceptions that dont really have an explaination.

my friend on the other end of the call has a pleasant story to share and immediately i ruled out how this was a worth breaking rules for. I am not an outdoor person by call let me explain it; i love going out at own will,i dont care who you are or what your reason is,coming over to my place is the most reasonable option we have non negotiable. If yhis paints me rigid,take it easy on judgement,i call it intentional.

My friend showed up at my place pretty much later but in good time to serve her breakfast. I had pretty much on my slate this day and all the options i was suggesting were all geared toewards  not leaving my place. she had been threatened on phone and was not relenting on having this looked at by an eye of authority. i was not going to let her down. i need an applause at the much i do for friends, my back aches.

i did forget to add how i dislike leaving the house with an empty pocket. not that i am into snacking like that but rather Mombasa is pretty much hot and for relativity the temperature is almostalways at 36 tops celsious. i have been around here for five years or so but i still aint accustomed to it.  again since the streak of breaking rules is on how about we honour it and keep the game on. we walked all the way to the police station under the midday heat.  not so bad, i had sun glasses on.

this was my first time at the police station and i was kinda nervous because a girl was losing virginity. yes. new developments to this case that i had not known, they( my friend and the purported criminal) had been in communication for over two months. here i was thinking this was a total stranger issuing threats. i had plans to meet up with my boyfriend later that evening i called in to cancel quick. do i sound like i was in a party running late to cook for my enstranged partner? exactly how i intend to have it come out. what started off as a few minutes of reporting and leaving escalated to a wait somilar to labour.

while waiting a group of ladies come to report  a guy hurting the wife.  the two had been together for over  two years and were party animals drinking cheap liqour from a joint to another. vegas for a lifetime. so a sister to the lady decides to intervene  and sends the sister to a rehab. the guy comes and causes a fuss with the neighbours claiming the wife has ran off with house hpld goods. there was a manhunt for the lady who is in a rehab. well i didnt sit there long enough to get to the end.

a young man who may not be a day above 15 comes to the gender office and i tune my ears to get the juice while waiting in line. this kid had been molested in school. the mother was too beaten to talk the dad too embarrased to stay composed the boy had a blank stare in his eyes. aargh, i went for wipes.

our turn comes an theres a chinese inside the office who has stayed in kenya a while to be tribal in his descriptions. kenya does that to most people who sit in high offices. he noticed we had an OB number and he didnt and his threate were a great prompt for this  writ. he said if they dont give him an OB number he was going to call the top police boss or better still mr president and i was wowed. he has the presidents number? well now he has mine too and well we may end up in one whatsapp group with the top legislator how cool is that? i will keep you posted on how the government will be run,regards,Viv.

How we’ve been

There has been a whole lot of events around me and please remember to forgive my most uncreative title

Holidays for me,have always represented a time to head home. I have never really planned what to do while at home just be home thats it. I sat for my final paper and the sense of detachment had a sudden arrest effect on me. Here is a place i had called home for the last five or so solid years. Made friends,memories and a fair share of enemies too and here we go goodbye. I dont know if tgeres any sane person that loves goodbyes. I had pictured my stay as cosy and smooth with very little trouble to write home about but we dont always get what we want,right? I have a tonne of lessons i didnt take in class and a tan i didnt intend to get. Oh and a human too. Basketball happened too. A steady rise then stalling somewhere at the peak of my dream.itfelt like waking up midway a beautiful dream with a slap. I hope the dream dont die though. While at it i keep a grateful state of mind because all things happen for a reason. Oh and i did lose a friend to suicide,very brilliant ball of energy that one. On that relocated note,we still cant afford a journal but well..,that is how we doing right now,still,gratuity all the way.

JUST SAYING

If i was to die today,love woul be the strongest i have ever been

i want to be remembered by how i loved,not how i lived

i am just saying, just sying nothing at all

La la la I am a middle child, trust me i can find my way,

before me is a tall great girl, behind me an awesome big girl

i am the in between great and awesome, a mixture of both,

just saying, i am just saying

Ehm,ah I could listen to any advise about me,

and make peace with lies and unpopular opinions

but theres not athing you could tell me about my hair

cos thiss crown,this mane , men

could brek your neck were it on you, not just saying.

i could be a cheat, i would be big liar,

but i am a lover, close enough

just saying, i am just saying.

LOVE IS

Brushimg through the content on my blog space you are most likely to come across one kinda sorta safe writer that treads carefully not to step outside topics out of my comforts. T opics you are most likely going to consider safe is what i majorly write on. however the kind of content that intrigues excites and somewhat seek to define me a little too deep are not the safe ones here. in my defense though i like meeting people with my soft side and having them understand that soft could be safe too. having said that allow me to introduce something controversial., sexuality.

I would like to categoriccally note that this may pick a bias of religion alittle bit because that is what i align and identify with mostly. Social media has taken over every thing social. theres the good in this which go without saying and part there of is the observation leading to this write up was cultivated from continual observation of peoples social media profiles. a thin margin of error though on people living a lie- a different life on social media compared to that they live in real life. but again behind most social experimental lies and facades lie a truth that is a close relative.

in my interactions and strolls in the social media streets i have come across flags that describe peoples sexuality. honestly speaking there are times when i wish people would mind who sleeps in the bed they make and let every other they dont make or sleep on be none of their business. thinking about it again brings to my attention the word BOLD. if really those that choose a path contrary to mainstream are proudly bold* about it then it gives us the chance to debate about it and therefore write about it.

so what flag best defines you?

there is a surge in the seven colour flag on peoples social media bios. PRIDE. love is love they say. love is… sounds better with me . love is how you make it., complete it how you will . this leaves room for anyone to be proud and bold , personal much. to all this i would also like to note that in this age of social media alot of people are seeking a group to identify with hence bandwagoning on any that suits their billing at that given time.

the description that ensue after the footing of the social flag makes it even a more complex discussion. i have seen more than one pronoun describing a persons sexuality. at this point i can also feel my self sound like a grumbling christian grand mother. again i am old school like that. the complexities of pronouns keep widening and just when youre about to sigh and stress peacefully yet another is released . it almost sounds like a movie series or iphones with release date after release date. my favourite is human–humxn. i havent recovered from this and that other one of having pronoun them and their<drops head dramatically>.

what could be looking like a cool trend or harmless bandwagoning in search of pleasure and full sexual fulfilment may end tragically. woe unto those that plunged in unknowingly. If by any chance you feel that this topic is farfetched and unnecessary then i solemnly remind you that it could get messier. stand by for the next part of love is series.

Beautiful things

Something broken something beautiful..

Most things are beautiful and worthy

Most people are good is more than just a sing along

I love beautiful things

I have a number of beautiful things

But most i dont keep

Because i have a damned tendency

Of ruining beautiful things

Because i have a bad history

Of losing things beautiful

And when i think about babies

I think of something beautiful

Too good, i couldnt keep.

ME AND KIDS

I dont really like kids. Notice how delicately avoided the word hate or any other strong a word that would get me crucified. Funny enough though,kids like me,most times.

Starting from my most recent experience… I am privileged to be part of the a team that is in the big girl’s league in my country. This is a dream I could do a novel on but anyways…so my team is dotted with personalities and habits of all kinds. Professional athletes are workmates and that four corner space is our office. Being a rookie I have suited up for my team once, such an honor, the entire season. This means most times throughout the season I was on the bench,clapping, cheering and handing my workmates water and towels during their shifts.

This particular day however was different a teammie had travelled to the game with her daughter an adorable 2-3 year old bubbly just like the mom. I had taken my place at the bench shouting my loudest as usual when I noticed mama Z was distracted. Her daughter wanted to be held every time her mommy was on break; half time,time out, sub. Maybe she didn’t look at me but she did look my direction and asked for help with the baby. I took up the responsibility and teased her around as a distraction it didn’t work then I tried moving with her to a different corner. She kept crying. Her mother signalled me to take her out of the gym, well..

I ended up in the gymnasium’s canteen and bought her snacks. That did buy me some peace to get back to the gym and watch the rest of the game which was well spent already. The mom played a lot better I hear and thanked me not<audacity>.

Back at home at mamas a number of two year olds show up at the gate every day to see Vee. I hope I get a chance of asking them when they are all grown why they kept coming to see a grown up. They should have answers because I don’t. Mommy laughs at it every other time to think that I keep insisting that I don’t like kids but they keep coming to me is hilarious much to her.

See I have a natural way around kids mostly and when I buy it, I don’t lose it easy. But I would never volunteer to babysit or play around with kids unless there isn’t any other option. A couple of excuses could sit in for this from well I don’t have a solid one yet but those younglings are quite something you know.

Intuition

Theres something about reassurance

When it comes from a spiritual buddy

Who is consistent and prudent

About their cult, act and faith

Believers like me appreciate

The beauty underneath variance

But still pay close attention

To close spiritual extension

I get lost in paintings ive never seen

Paying visits to places never been

I know that is how keen, *

Something big is for one in need

The Air around me gets misty

And my thoughts somewhat rusty

Goose bumps up and busty

That is how i know i am in- tuition

Friend appreciation post

I have a friend who is alot like me,in so many ways including looks. She’s my refined version; more creative, bolder in expression and encounters.
Sometime last month, a day after my birthday she gave me a call. The silence that ensued in between the exchanged hallos and other little pleasantries was perhaps for the bulk of months summing to a couple years we had stayed apart.

Then i let out the softest of my screams;no way. I had been looking for someone i could open up to about my regrets and mistakes for a while. This(search) had gone on for sometime and all the stacking up within was beginning to take a toll on me.My mental shelves threatened to break,my emotional safe not so safe. Dead stock needs to be taken out somewhere.

I heard her call out my name how only she does,in a way i had long forgotten but unknowingly longing. Alot had happened in the three years tops of her abscence and i was going to fill her in on it all.

She cancelled our first two dates which i proposed on my convinience. I was hurt. Love does that. Then she showed up on a game weekend. Her hair is short now,but she still embodies that same aura that twines nice and easy with mine. I wonder where she sourced the guts to cut her hair. We didn’t hug tight but my pieces, for a moment of grace were at peace.

again i feel tge urge to note that i am a believer in a lot of things,newly found faith is shifting. Everything you need will find its way to you,my best friend did. Best believe.

Home

When I left home,
I did not promise my father
A fatter cheque upon retirement
Or bigger better wheels to cruise on
All days though,
I had in mind bills and deeds.
Not on compulsion or coercion
But by volition and decision.

On the day that I left home,
I didn’t tell mom to stay hopeful,
That I would get her wrappers
And tickets to endless vacations
Give her life a turn around maybe

It would be fulfilling,
To one day,someday,revise this
And sigh,that was fast.

Updates

It has been a month long tops of not checking up on my loves here.,soooo whats up good people. Love and light your way,in your journeys and thoughts. So I have been busy doing life lazily and hazily, getting angry at the things I cannot change and hoping to change quick those that I can change. I must say it has been tough, some of these habits are atomic and somewhat etched to my existance. Again love and light is all I wish for.

An old friend dropped by to say hello and stayed a while longer than a couple of days.I am glad she did.

I am feeling that intuitive reckon closeby lately.

I am out of shape for most of my favourite things.

Made sad by the one thing that makes me happy.

Overwhelmed by my position in peoples lives. If i died today love would be the strongest i have ever been.

Too much pain from what started as a basic wound.

Bad long day on a merry day.

My delta

Me and kids

Well I promise a good read for all the above listings.
L.L.

Intentional

Hello and welcome to my blog. I want to say it’s been a minute but that would be a petty lie,a girl will not knowingly book a slot to litcity( hell) over a minute misconduct. It has been a month of no activity in here. My sincerest apology to myself for failing a consistenct test for the (lost count) longest time.

I was having a random conversation with a long lost friend. It is at this point that i wish to state that most of my writs are prompted by randomness. So while conversing,catching up and seasoning with a few disses, she mentions how i am such a people’s pleaser. I am pleased she’s frank and bold at noting that. I am the type to put up a front of defense except when the opinion cannot be supported by facts worthy of my attention. This allegation is one of such exceptions. There and then we talked at length about a couple of things save for my people pleasing habit.

I love people and i thrive in love. This typecof living has been mistaken a number of times. Trying to explain it to guarded type of people will sound like a desperate card of validation. I mentioned to my long lost friend how I am readily available to most if not all my friends how i want. I don’t easily cancel my plans for anyone. If i dont have a very kind answer i will not pick your call. If i see no need to explain i will not return a message or a missed call. I have no business saving your number if we cannot talk on the daily. I have no business texting back a guy more than thrice unless we making transactions or my heart is getting involved.

That was such a diary moment that leads to this: in all your interactions,be intentional. Say it with your chest. Its a trait that saves you a lot. Even when you’re misunderstood prolly because of packaging or general assumptions,be intentional. Have yourself an intentional time of year loves.

Best shot

I take this ball of life,

And walk every other time,

Few times when I shoot,

It’s that same spot of shame

The game was supposed to be fun,

They promised something bigger,

Now the only big thing on line

Is the hurt amounting from

All the hours of workouts

And hauled insults from coaches

And disappointments of average

That sit still on my throat at night

One last effort toward elite,

One last thrust towards being seen

Not to worry,

My best game is in days to come

And I will note with much grace

I had so much potential in many other disciplines

But that buzzer was not my best shot

Choosing basketball over all other balls

Is the best shot i ever made,I’ll say.

Game over

Been up and about

Switching poles and roles

Calls and balls

From a pitch to court

To yet another court

My heart has been on the line

One too many times

My mind on a run

One two,many times

Rests and involuntary quits

Many many times

The coachs voice runs hoarse

My thoughts grow cold

My effort,stale

My psych, gone

Best that isnt enough…

But i know tgat prize

I know that catch

Been around for a while

I know my way around,out too

The best is yet to come

For every rebound,inbound

Shot,miss,

Every whistle

Is a step closer;

To game over.

Period stories

Basketball has rewarded me with a compact crowd for my story. My basketball family is always willing and available for interviews and meaningful conversations. Thanks fam.

In a past event not so long ago,i asked a number of my boys what the price of sanitary towels was and a good number of tge youngings gave me an estimate far off tge real price. Clearly,they have hardly ever bought any them selves. I questioned about what an ideal period package would contain. Here they did perform quite commendably. Oh about what to do in the presence of a pmsing sister lover friend. How they gave me a laugh.

Tginking about it later however my heart aches at how ill informed our good boys are. This however is no ones fault really,heres why..

Manual

If i pay you a visit

I take time before getting in

Cos i like to stand out

If youre in my company

Fret not

I will give you work

I am a bold mess

A hot mess

Gracefully broken

Tested and refined

I am that unwilling student

The universe keeps picking on

On good days i make right guesses

Otger days i bunk classes

And skip pricey lessons

I sure wish we all had a manual

It would be easier to understand

How far the stringing can go.

Congratulations on marriage

Come ye all

From today on

Call her by my name

Call her my own

Come ye all

From today on

Shes my home

I put a ring on her

Raise kids with her

Be thee witnesses

Of this great love

Dear priest,i agree

To treat her nice

Be thine her peace

Only death cant i stop

From coming between us

Tgey all clap and cheer

Celebrating newest couple

Who seal it all in a kiss

How then do I face this same crowd

And tell them I have dropped your name

How do I tell our kids

That the love we shared has expired

How do I convince my folks

That the good son left me

How will I tell my mother

That vumilia got me crying most nights

And that our matrimonial bed

Held me and four otger ladies

How do I tell my dad

That the son that took me from him legally

Has dropped the law from his title

That he threw me out of eden

And stripped me off his name

So when you say congratulations on my marriage,

especially on my wedding day,tell me about the worst

Tge good have I well seen,

In operas and books,movies and lies from boyfriends of my youth.

Say congratulations,say it true.

Way home

I will preach to my daughter

A gospel of plenty and love

Of truth and grace

I will teach her to be kind

To hold back insults only

To speak her mind always

To forgive easy and let go

To believe in good

While totally aware of evil

To believe but still reason

To try even when she wants to cry

To thrive against most odds,be fly

They say home is where the heart is

I’ll teach her to find the way home

And no matter how bad it is,her heart

should find peace,be at home

Sometime last week, I needed find purpose. My expenditure was way out of my hands. I was heavy on my debit card with no inflow to my credit card. Nothing seemed to be in the right alignment. Oh save for my workouts which on the flop side were way too heavy. My good guy had insisted i shouldn’t go home. I still went because I am stubborn like that. I found peace in that loving and said a small prayer; Lord I pray that it never gets to a time when I cannot find my way home.

Most broken hearts in one

I took my good friend to his good friend

And the night was long

From all the catching up on booze

And a few puffs.

The girls there had a place in the kitchen

I hear mother say the kitchen is the heart of a home

Here they talked matters of the heart

Mine was silent and full so it went to sleep

Next day I took a stroll to see my boys

And kept my phone far away

Not because i didbt want interruptions

But because none would call anyway,cut the weight

They say communication is key

Not quite clear to which door

I keep keys to padlocks

I have long lost

So this particular evening my hearts is heavy

All the girls assembled in the kitchen

Making a meal, another walks in

From her appearance and narratiins

Her hearts haevy too

The men are calm and composed

Culprits responsible for these heavy hearts

That night was unusually cold

So many broken hearts under one roof

Running

I walk everyday in the Lord,that’s how I stay fit. I am glad you smiled. I am an athlete that doubles up as a fitness enthusiast.I sell training apparel,so you know that the passion is rooted. My goal today is to inspire my great readers to run.

Long strides and some speed have always made me fast.Outside the track and court,I am always on the run. You too. The chase is continual and ends only at death. That is the run I am here for.Fret not,you need not buy the apparel just yet.

Most Christians are eulogized by that famous Paul verse,Finished the race and Kept the faith…
What are you running from?
What are you running to?
Why are you on the run?

Running has always been my first instinct. Little wonder though why i haven’t ran away from home ever. But there are a couple of things and people that i ran away from. Some races were mandatory and noncommital* others were unnecessary. But even those that were not really necessary kept me in shape,win-win.

I have missed the starting gun a whole loads of times,pulled out from one two many races,took some runs that weren’t meant for me. I raise a toast however to all the races I have taken part in. To the ones to come i hope i will remember to carry water.

See how athletes get ready for a race? That’s how we should be. In constant practice and embrace all races that come our way with a competitive heart.
All the best in your consequent runs. If you don’t bag the trophy,please stay in the race to the end.

Diary of a friend

There,
The friend in deed
The one who put you in need
Cared not if you didn’t feed

Hurry,
Lets head out of town,
Bring your sorrows in stories
No fuss,bills are paid

Here
Take a sip and more
A toast to years with nothing to show
Drown your troubles in the gin

Buddy,
They take vids of your wasted self
With a running mouth and bad behaviour
Sleep g,till next week on end

Sad
How the week is heavy on you
With bills pending,no food
Yet the weekend was lit,litter is the one ahead

Funny
Now you have a few coins
For the new formation coming
And a health failing,a life falling

Make the world a better place

I am sorry I had to use that cliché. But I promise you won’t regret reading this till the end. Here’s a master plan lifted from a masterclass of a psychologist guru; ignore the weight. There’s no guru and no plan,just a writer with a big heart and height to match. In one brief statement however,here’s how to make the world a better place,love then laugh till you cry.

That last word,cry,baby cry, is what prompted this writ. When a child is born,the first thing it ever does is cry. I have been to a maternity ward and around maternity stories for a good while to confirm this. A child is considered normal if s/he cries. Those that do not cry are spanked till when they cry. I have theories which explain this phenomenon which I insist are personal much but I will share them here anyways.1.The air out here is cold and weird
2. The faces around it are busy and not necessarily cute
3. Play ground was small but cute in the inside
I could go on but that would make me divert much.

When the baby grows to a certain age they are taught not to cry. Sometimes soothed with pleasantries and promises that would make them stop crying. Then they become young adults whose truest show of bravery is holding back tears. I believe in tears being an outlet. If you hold them back there’s something you may be messing with in the inside. Tears are among the most vulnerable of all human expressions. Much later in life,those who step easy may seek a therapists opinion on loss,failure or traumas. While opening up the tears flow willingly.

Why then can’t we be open to ourselves and allow some good eye cleaning,raisimg up kids who are not afraid of crying. I know you know somebody who won’t give something or someone else a chance because of how it hurt the first time. Just cry. The world would be a better place if we cried a lot more. Cry today.

Limits

Most of the limits I/we have ,are set by us. Save an otherwise opinion on the next breathe you will take. My most favourite trouble or rather limit is jeans. They act like a strict mom,shouting from across the room with an object flying already,”get back here. ” So now my humble hips,shy peach and quite vibrant cellulites cannot head out. Oh! The thighland too,we can only behold the mightiness in length. They keep nagging my nice knees on every step,bend or swing. When I sit,they summon all annoyance to show up and irritate my already infuriated knees. In just an hour,we will be free,I say to myself . I can’t go all out in jeans,matter of fact I won’t even go out in jeans .

I came first

God made man first

He had a reason

Beyond our best

Why mamas wasn’t in the picture

And when He made a woman

Man was fast asleep

So before any man gets a mamas

He needs to be Alone

Then he’ll warrant a helper

To each,enough grace

To bear with what is beyond us

And to men more

To stay put till in the garden he puts

An Eve to help and accompany

But not once ever judge

Cos He came first.

Love story

I love stories. I have stories. I love love stories. I have love stories. Here’s to me. For writing my first love story. I am glad it has a picture with it too. That heart shape is my love story.

I do not like doing laundry. That area within the heart shape,the skin has been severed by laundry. Perhaps the detergent was too strong for my hands. I am done scouting for what would be favourable. But it gave me a basis.

I love the story on my hands. How delicate it is. Yet still looks strong and has a strong grip. I love the story on my hands. That got damaged after a good course. I have a story on my hands. Of hurting but still soldiering on.

If I had a tattoo,it wouldn’t wash away. And it word hurt. My hands don’t need that. They need me to be as gentle as I can. Even without the ink,my hands tell a love story.

Period stories

I am the type of girl,the small fraction that doesn’t walk around with sanitary towels. I lost count of the number of times I have had my periods show up when, I am away from home and I didn’t carry with me not a leaf of pads.

One time I was sleeping over at a friends place. This place wasn’t really hers. Her brother had travelled upcountry and left her as custodian over the house. She then invited the clan over to cook and drink because that’s what comrades do. My mood was sky high. The night was beautiful. Then we slept. I woke up still feeling excited . I had white tights on. Then the soldiers knocked. I woke up the host see if she could have a piece,nothing. No luck in searching the house because this is a Bach pad. I rush out to see if I could bump into a lady on the stairs,any lady to save my day,zilch. I pace all the way up to the rooftop,then downstairs still nothing. Then I decide this is it. By this time my white tights are stained a great deal. I woke one of the guys up,he was kind enough to get me pads. I have no idea how menses switch up gears once you pad up.

The next random time was recent . I was out with a love of my life. Of course I have many loves,many lives,welcome to my feline world. Then I felt a rushing wind on my under belly . I rushed out and redid the drill. Pace downstairs,see if you can bump into a lady then borrow her pads. Luckily I found one washing by her door. She gave me two pieces. What stood out about her was how she handed the pads to me. She had folded her hands and held it behind her back. Immediately she handed it over to me,I ruined her mission of top secrecy. I held it nicely and she appeared a little uncomfortable about it. Well sorry ma’am. There’s nothing shameful about my periods. I thanked her and left. I met up boys on the stairs who looked at my hands,my face back and forth. I flashed a smile and walked on. I would love to note importantly that there has been no one time when I borrowed a pad from a lady,or heard a lady borrow pads and she’s given a negative answer. If she happens to be in a group at a public space and her clique doesn’t have a single person with spare,they all set out to get her a piece. Bless up Eves.

Aha,this one..so I leave training and head home fatigued from all the practice. I pass by a shop then remember I don’t have sanitary towels and its almost end month. Since I didn’t have hard cash,I opted to pay via mobile cash. There was a pack of guys at the shop but I didn’t mind. While still paying up,the shopkeeper (a guy )handed me the pads. I didn’t see. So one guy carelessly notes ungemfungia ameogopa–wrap it up, she’s embarrassed. That cannot be me. I carried my goodie by hand all the way home.

To most men,ladies are embarrassed about periods. Which isn’t much of a lie honestly speaking. Just not me,I am bleeding and proud of it. The only thing I am hiding is my WhatsApp status. Grace pon y’all that you may learn to bleed proudly.

Kneestory

When I get on my knees nice things happen. If the choice was mine to make or maybe take my church would have only worship songs. Mostly altar calls. Aha! The good book says it too.. And my Fathers house shall be called the house of worship. If that’s all we did,we would be compelled to kneel throughout the service. Yours truly is a terrible dancer,anything that saves me the trouble of rhythmic moves is a gold mine.

Not so many years ago,on a Valentine’s day, I played a one on one matchup game with the then love of my life. For the record this had been tradition since my taste buds scream ballers. I have had two loves of my life,both ballers and both had this pick up game treat. Welcome to my feline world. It’s important that I note that this was entirely their idea which I embraced without a tinge of doubt. The first one,godhelpme,rolls eyes vigorously, I was naïve in life,love and basketball of course I lost in the last two. The first option means a chance to always explore so– life’s for the living and I am alive– let’s binge this season called growing up. The second Valentine’s day game, I was ,well a little bit taller and I had known how to do one two. He was first to score notsoeasy baskets because yours truly is never afraid of fouling.

My check chance came.,yours truly driving to the basket recklessly recklessly then I step on heavy duty or meet head on,not quite clear but how I landed was such a mess. Thinking about it three years later I still cringe. My knees which are usually bruised all over and have dominant scars from my very playful junior years was scratched severely. For a day or two I couldn’t walk,sleeping was hard too. I am glad he didn’t scratch my heart like that,well at least not then.

To date,I still struggle with any kind of bending that would want my knees active. But when I get on them,great things happen.,irregardless of the scars

Period stories

Growing up,I had this perfect picture of periods crafted in my mind.In the ads for sanitary towels,magazines and educative pamphlets,periods looked alot like a normal time in a ladies life. Kenyan ads on sanitary towels had ladies dancing while showcasing their pad brands. I dont understand why in this age and time they still make periods look like a beautiful girlie moment in a ladies life. I have been around so many girls in my life to confidently say thats no time to dance. My face is usually an active volcano,my sheet messy,my skin dry and crappy. Dont try to recommend a lotion brand that could work because i have a feeling i wont be able to stand its smell when in my ps.

I also thought periods are that one week lived on a red note.The entire ovulation period is a puzzle. The first week of ovulation is usually the last week of another( a fraction of it). First week means getting your stuff together one two liners then commando all the way. Then theres the second week which doubles up as mid ovulation nothing much happens you might forget youre a lady.Third week is the ghetto. You may be slow one two cravings and some the breakouts show up. All gail fourth week of all moods flailing,cramping,bloating and tgen tge rains. All this all year long…i now understand why man had to sleep when God was making a woman. God doubles up as the greatest artist. Most artists make masterpieces in private.

In a nutshell periods last four weeks.

No cap

I have had so many instances and mood when I wanted to write,I needed to write but I still didn’t. Other times the motivation was certain,the ideas flowing and words just right and I didn’t write. I hope by putting this down,I can get over that bad trait once and for all.

Yours,

Viv