the take over, the break's over

If I were to strictly classify my job right now, it would fall under marketing. And previously I was in finance. There's this girl who came to a party with us last month whose dream was to go to the Olympics. Since she was 4. And she finally made it to the last ones in was it Beijing(?) Despite having broken a leg when she was 17 - she's my age. Now, I love this job, even though I've only done it for two months, but I'm wondering if I can say there's anything I've ever wanted to do that I've wanted that steadfastly. When I was a child it was engineering coz that's what my father does, and then I grew up and started reading Fortune and it became investment banker despite the fact that I didn't even know what that was - believe it or not I actually liked the suits back then - and then I started watching The Practice when I moved to Nairobi and I fell in love with law. That must be the longest dream I've had, coz all the way till uni I consistently wanted to be a lawyer and to argue facts and to bang the table when neither the facts nor the law were on my side. As if that wasn't enough, The West Wing came and took over my life a little later and then I go check and guess what all those brilliant people did in uni (except for the president who's an economist) - law. So anyway, I got convinced to change my dream at some point to finance and ended up doing Commerce. And the rest is, so far, history.

So here I am creating brands and shaping product strategy (or something close to that). Starting over is sometimes scary, sometimes a huge risk, sometimes a harbinger to a doomed existence. It wasn't any of those things for me (I guess coz I'm blest...), but it was a completely new beginning. I have to think of myself as a fresh hire now. I have to ask at least a thousand questions, and have to start working out a whole new balance between my [already scanty] life and my work. When people are thinking about what legacy they want to leave behind, they're usually all about one specific thing. There's always one thing they want to stand out, one thing they can be identified by. But I'm thinking no, me I when I'm remembered, I wanna be remembered for all the different accomplishments. I want all of them to be grand, of course, but I want them to be equally grand. And I want them to be various. And it won't matter if they're all work-related.

On the subject of work-life balance, we had lunch with our regional GM day before yesterday. Brilliant guy, btw. Has been with the company for about 20 years. That is A LONG time. Anyway, so we ask him if he'd say he's made any sacrifices in terms of personal life, family on his way up. And he's like no. You spend all your life either studying (first half) or working (second half). Nine, ten hours a day. So anyone who thinks work is not life is crazy. There is no such thing as work/life balance if you're doing something you love to do - they are one and the same thing. I almost died - you know those things people say and they leave you dumbfounded, ya, that was me. I had never thought of it that way, but I completely agree with him. Him and Placido Domingo both. Steinway & Sons is a company that makes designer pianos out of hardwood that cost as much as a small Samoan island. They print a quarterly magazine with updates for people who've bought Steinway in the past. So I got one of them and inside they had a spread with Placido in sideview facing down with a sort of pensive look, holding the conductor's baton, light from the lectern illuminating his face. 

And underneath his picture, the text "Apparently, time off is reserved for those who consider their careers as work." I wouldn't call myself a workaholic per se, but I'd say that I've got love for what I'm doing. I'd even go further and say that right now, I think my career is my life. And I'm happy.

END

you gotta go there to come back

Had an interesting talk recently with this friend I ran into on the streets on my way to work. Apparently at some point she just up and decided to get serious with God, and she completely changed her life over. Stopped doing the things she used to do, you know, like rave, changed her music, now reads the Bible for fun et al. I dono if this makes me come across as psycho, but I've always been envious of people like that. You know, people who've been to the other side. People who had an (for lack of a better word) illustrious childhood. I've always felt in my mind that those people make better Christians than, say, someone who's always been brought up with Christian values. Someone like me. Because those people know the difference. They have a direct frame of reference between how their life is now and how it was then, and they can tell exactly what it is that was missing before they really got saved.

You know the way astronomers are always telling us how the earth goes round once every day and revolves round the sun once every year, but we never feel as though it's moving. The reason is it's been moving ever since we were born, so we don't know any different. It's like when you've been in the dark for a long time and then you suddenly came into the light, I think you're better placed to see how the light changes your life than someone who's always been in said light. For us, guys like that, it must partly be a case of familiarity breeding contempt, that we can never seem to have the fire that new converts have [well, at least I don't think I do]. Things that to me have become routine tasks like prayer and meditation, still hold that magic touch to these [new] people. They still do it because they want to do it, not coz they're used to, or coz they think they should. It's not a chore to them. So I think results to them come easier than they do to the rest of us - they still have that purity of mind.

When photographers want to make an object stand out better when composing a scene, one of the things they do is turn up the contrast. I think that's what I'm [and others like me are] lacking: contrast. I don't really know what it's like to not be who I've always been. I can't really point to the void the Holy Spirit fills in my life once I accept him, coz I've never been consciously aware of it. This other friend put it very philosophically: those who are forgiven much tend to love more [which is actually in the Bible]. I don't feel as though I've been forgiven that much, because other than the original sin I can't point to any other major misdemeanors [nevermind that there's no big or small sin]. I was born when my parents weren't saved, but they converted when I was four, so I've never known any other life.

I don't even know what kind of wishful thinking this is - basically it's like I want to have lived on the dark side so that when I met Christ I could see what's changed. I guess it would be much easier for me to just pray that He reveals His presence in my life every now and again in not-every-day ways. Just so I know He's still there and all this good stuff isn't happening to me just because. And so I can identify clearly where in my life He fits. Maybe then it will be much easier for me to put Him first, which is where He should be. And it'll be easier for me to maintain the moral high ground I've theoretically built over the years. This speaker at church last Sunday said that was the only difference between us and the rest of the world - everything else you achieve you can do so in a worldly fashion, but the morality, that one you need God for, and that's what will set us apart. Being salt to the earth is not easy, and it's even harder when you don't know how to describe the feeling. I'm supposed to be the salt of the earth, so ya, I guess I'm asking for a deeper understanding.

END

city of blinding lights

When I went to NY that time in 2007, everything used to awestrike me. Even the carpeting on the ground. The clean and one-way streets. The food cart at the corner selling one dollar hotdogs for 80 cents. The downstairs pizza place that's individually owned but delivers and has a website for ordering online. The houses where someone upstairs needs to buzz you in so you can get through the front porch. The 5-floor waterfall running down the inside of Trump Tower. The Museum of Modern Art, and just Fifth Avenue stores in general. The subways. My Hostelling International room. Their flushing system (trust me, it's vastly different than ours). And the fact that they're so impressed we can even speak English they give us whatever we ask for (at least the people I met). I thought I'd never feel that way again. I thought it was only coz I was still [young and] impressionable. I was not right.

Johannesburg is a large city. I looked up some stats and turns out it's actually the largest non-coastal city. In the world! It shares square miles with Los Angeles as it is. It's the financial capital of South Africa, and maybe even of Africa given SA's muscle here. It's spic. It's span. It's vast. And it's a little slice of heaven. But in all fairness I hardly ventured out of Sandton. 

Sandton is the "it" suburb of Jo'burg. I think you can actually refer to it as a first world neighborhood. The roads are pristine. The traffic lights and public system in general work as they should, and people obey the law. The highway patrol are polite and there's an actual system of tickets so traffic offences aren't blown up to be more than they are - nuisances. Traffic jams move coz all the roads that matter are at least three lanes wide, with overpasses and underpasses as appropriate, and road markings showing you which lane goes where. Not a single roundabout in sight, or even a Vitz. There are official Aston Martin and Porsche dealerships, so it's safe to conclude the average person living in Sandton is rich. Every brand in the country is represented here, so if you live in Sandton chances are your office is also there, and you never need to go anywhere else. Except maybe to Gold Reef City in the mid-south which is a pretty excellent park and gamespot. And it's right next to Soccer City, although that's more a landmark now that the World Cup is over. Or to Woodmead where there's a Woodmead Auto who are the people who sell Lamborghinis if that's the sort of thing that tickles your fancy. New, of course! The street lighting is so comprehensive you can basically go anywhere at any time, but most places don't stay open past 11, with the exception of those McDonald's drive-thru's.

Sandton City is a mall complex that includes itself and the world-famous Nelson Mandela Square (which has that 20-foot statue of him in its center and a singing waterfall. As in the water rises, and as it falls back to the ground it falls in a pattern that creates music. Yes, believe it!) Inside Sandton City, unless you're looking for cheap bargains, there's nothing you won't find. There's two hypers that stock all home shopping goods. There's two Apple stores, and one of them has Geniuses inside it. There's a Digital Planet that sells authentic Beats by Dre headphones for the cost of a semester of uni. There's an entire floor dedicated to couture - LVMH, Chanel, Dior, Oscar de la Renta, Emporio Armani, Versace et al. The entire level 1 basement is taken up by this humongous cinema that has screens the size of football stadiums - 11 of them. There's every food joint you could be looking for, then there's one in the terrace on Nelson Mandela Square just next door that serves pork ribs in sweet and sour sauce with garnish, fries and veggies for R120 that will change your life! Semi-open air. With ambience to kill for. Right next to the singing fountain.

Morningside is one of the hoods in Sandton, which is itself one of the hoods in Jo'burg. Its main road is called Rivonia, and that's the road on which you'll find everything you want in Morningside. That's also where my hotel is. It's 10 minutes driving away from Sandton City, and 15 minutes away from the airport via the 160kph-without-flinching bullet train called the Gautrain. That ride is the ride of a lifetime, FYI! Across the road from my hotel there's a Harley Davidson dealership, where it's one of the employment requirements that a person have a goatee, moustache that stretches out, at least two tattoos, muscles, and those cowboy boots with spikes and stars at both ends. And tight-fitting jeans made of real demin - the original Levi's. And dark aviator sun glasses. Texas accents are an added advantage. Either that, or that's their official dress code, coz everyone who works there fits that description. One of those Harley bikes costs about as much a small child, so broke @$$es need not apply, it says on the door. [ok, not really, but ya, they're not cheap]

About 15-20kms out of Sandton on the N1 - the main road that goes to Pretoria - near Soweto in a neighbourhood called Ormonde, there's the Gold Reef City. It has the largest Ferris wheel I have ever seen, and each seat on it is shaped like a giant soccer ball. It's got a water slide that extends so high it's about 2-3 kilometers sliding down, but it's open so the chill factor is a little reduced. It's flanked by its own five star hotel that looks as though it was made out of gold, which is actually possibly the case because that used to be the epicenter of the gold mining trade until it became uneconomical to do it anymore, then it was converted into a park. It also houses the Apartheid Museum which is pretty monumental for a country like SA. And about a very small and light stone's throw away, in all of its glass-and-curvy glory, stands Soccer City. The stadium that put Africa on the map. When you drive through Gold Reef City at night (at that time almost nothing's still open - except maybe the casino which does not admit under-18's), you look up and you see the moon and the stars and then you look to your left and you see Soccer City glowing and it's like a celestial body has fallen down to earth.

Towards the east of Sandton (but still North of the entire city), there's an exclusive golfing estate with housing units inside it called Dainfern. Trump would be proud. It's so large and exclusive it's got it's own address system all inside it - Cortona Drive. The security checks before you're admitted into Dainfern take about 10 minutes, so you better believe if you're carrying molotov cocktails in the trunk they're gonna be found. If you come in and you're a resident there you have your own entrance where you wave your door key and the gate lets you in. The houses are huge. They're double-story, but judging by their height they should have 3 floors. That means high ceilings. Chandeliers as tall as fern trees. The living area (without distinct walls and doors i dono if you can actually call places rooms) alone has 7 bulbs. The small circular kind that are usually depressed into the roof. They can be dimmed for ambience. There's motion detectors in every room. The entire ground floor around the living area is literally made of glass, and the house has sliding doors as standard both to the front and the backyard. There's of course an Infinity pool in the back, heated and internally lit. There's a built-in barbecue grill just outside the dining area - South Africans like meat (a running joke is that they typically eat meals wholy composed of beef, with a little chicken on the side). It comes with a wired surround system and flat panel TV. Different furnishings for the living room than for the dining. Wholy fitted kitchen. Open plan partitions. And a dog. A terrier. Just for the hell of it :) This is where my boss lives. And that's who I want to become.

There's a neighbourhood west of Sandton called Westcliff where the average house is R30 million. Not coz it's palatial and on 17 acres of land or anything grand like that, no. They're actually bungalows on about a half acre each. But they're R30 million just because. So the who's who know there's no riff-raff mixing in with them. It's for Fortune-500-type old money people. People who sip English tea and play squash on Sunday afternoon and watch the Discovery Channel and CNN and attend theater and are thrilled by 6-day golf games. And serve their guests Dom Perignon coz they probably have a wine cellar downstairs in the basement. Whose children do weird things like music theory in college. Where everyone has a private security guard outside their compound 24/7 in addition to Cobbs Rescue (which is for them what kina BM Security are to us). 

Like I said, Jo'burg is a huge city. It's a beautiful city. I've been impressed at each and every turn, bar none. Conclusion: those people who say money can't buy everything probably don't live in Sandton.

END

life in a glass house

They say the life unexamined may not be worth living. But then the life too closely examined may not be lived at all!

So I got this new job, as by now I'm sure you know. And now they're shipping me off down south for two weeks, training. Anyway, I called this friend of mine up about an unrelated matter, and it came up and he had all these questions. Apparently, it has been a while since we last met and there's all these things we don't know about each other, starting with that he was mugged, and I left my old job. So he went and created a checklist, things I've done since last year. And we started going through it ticking off things one by one. Wow, it was a lot of stuff, as it turns out.

And that's even before you count the new horizon that's just opened up. I started last week, but so far it's just been reading manuals, getting oriented and feeling out of place coz it's a really close-knit office and everyone's got all this history (also I'm gonna be like the only person here in my department - everyone else works in SA). Perhaps I should also ask myself these questions my friend was asking? I went bowling with people from my old job during the week, like a sort of farewell. Then today another one was wedding so I also got to meet a few other ex-colleagues. Gotta say, a bunch of them looked happy still, and I know for a fact life has really improved for them since I've been gone (read upto 50pc increases in salaries). But I still don't think I made the wrong choice moving.

It's a whole new field, so I'm like an empty pitcher of water, just waiting to be filled up. The first thing my new local boss told me when I got in is that there they depend on a culture of trust between employer and employee. Trust that when given a task, it'll be done when you say it will be, or when required. Trust that meetings scheduled for 10 will start at 10. Trust that when you have to cut out early, you really do, and you're not just taking advantage of the freedom. Trust that when you charge an expense to the company credit card, you made sure it was business-related first. In other words, you're expected to deliver, and you're given a lot of autonomy. I swear, he was saying all these things, and all I was hearing was music. Sweet, beautiful music. [oh, ya, in case it was missed somewhere in there, I get a company credit card. With an obscenely large limit].

You could say I'm well on the way to making it. So my friend then moves to the next item on his checklist of me - girlfriend? Huh. Now he's got me thinking about relationships. Do I need someone to hold my hand? Do I need someone to share my joys and sorrows with? Do I need someone to hold me together when I come apart at the seams? Do I need someone looking closely at me, watching over my every step, and asking me all the questions that will [in Anderson Cooper's words] keep me honest? I'm drawing a blank, so let's just say I'll know when I get there. However, I've heard this before, and I agree "...The most challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you find someone who loves the you you love, well, that's just fabulous." 

I'm leaving for SA on Monday, which is very exciting. So obviously for now, I think it's enough that I have the promise of a new job. What's it offering, you ask? The world. Only the world.

END

here comes a regular

Towards the end of high school, when we were all selecting courses for uni, sometimes I think I was more selecting what uni I wanted to go to than what course I wanted, because coincidentally or otherwise all of my choices ended up being at the University of Nairobi. I actually remember it was really important in my mind that I be called into that uni. See I was the guy from the small town who moved to an even smaller one when he was 12, so I've always known who my neighbours were. What their children were allergic to. Where they went on holiday. Who was sleeping with whom... You know how guys make a career out of spying on celebs in Hollywood? Now at our place everyone was a celebrity, and everyone else was paparazzi. So I wanted to come see how it's like in a big town. Yes because the city held untold potential for adventure and exposure, but also because of the allure it held of anonymity. Here no one seemed to care about the person sitting next to them. No one butted their heads into anyone else's business. Your private affairs remained your private affairs. And more than that, people actually stayed with their doors closed all day (I think us people used to only close the door at like 11 when we're going to sleep, otherwise it stays wide open which really used to irritate me.) I've always been the aloof kind, so here was a place where people were aloof like they were getting paid. It was like I'd died and gone to heaven. Whatever the reason, I must be blest coz I got in.

I'd thought it would be a chance to start all over. To recreate myself. To boot any habits I was ashamed of and start doing things I'd always dreamed of. Coz here, no one knew me. The persona they got to meet was whatever I painted it out to be. Ha! It was a lot more difficult than I'd thought it to be. Turns out you can't just conjure up a new future and put it in the microwave and come collect it ready after 10 minutes. All those Greek and Roman philosophers who're all like "The best way to predict your future is to create it yourself," well, I don't think they were speaking in the context of today's world. Our childhoods are much more ingrained in us than one would imagine. Instinct is called instinct exactly because of that - that it's inborn; that you don't think about it; that it just comes and you almost can't prevent it. Once you establish a habit it sticks with you.

And so it came to pass that despite the fact that I had two chances (I switched faculties in between) all of my quirks from my past were carried on into my next life. The inability to dance/sing, laughing at times I shouldn't be laughing (and not at Ben Stiller, Tyler Perry and Adam Sandler movies), fear of creepy crawlies that move really fast, the dark humor, coyness, automatically distancing myself from my surroundings, dislike for happy yippee loud and crowd events, are a few of the things that still describe me 8 years after I tried to rid myself of them. Apparently the extent to which we can rewrite our fates is a little less boundless than I used to think it was. While some things are within our control, not everything is. At some point, obviously, Barack Obama became the poster boy for dreams, and even he acknowledges some of those limits: "You are probably not that good a rapper. Maybe you're the next Lil Wayne, but maybe not, in which case you need to stay in school."

I'm thinking this time now that I'm changing jobs and have that chance again, I won't even try. I'll just go in with a blank mind and let be whatever comes up. I'm gonna believe that the world is my oyster, and with any luck, like Macbeth, chance my yet crown me king.

"You are what you repeatedly do," said Aristotle. He should just have said I am what I've been repeatedly doing since I was a child.

END

the tide that left and never came back

This is probably one of the 50 most clichéd sentiments out there, but hell, it's true for me: I've never been very good at goodbyes. Mostly it's coz I don't get as attached as other people do. To places, to people, to things. I'm an out-of-mind-out-of-sight guy. So making a clean break is almost never a big deal. Today was my last day in the office as an employee. Officially anyway, in my mind the beginning of the end came a long time ago when I handed in that resignation. After that it was really all just a matter of time. Been thinking about the things I'll miss the most about that place. And I've come up with a surprisingly short list.

The people. My department (or service line as they call them) was the largest. They used to huddle us in this open hall six sizes too small with a bench-table running all across the center and the edges, so we literally used to share everything. Made finding space a biatch if you come later than 6 in the morning, but it made it that much easier for us to get to know each other. I've met some brilliant minds there. People who sharpened me, and people who tested me and helped broaden my boundaries. Funny people. Happy people. Dissociable people. Sensitive people. According to the HR manual, its people are its most valuable resource. There I agree with them.

The freedom. You could almost never catch someone butting their nose into your business. As long as you were delivering when you were supposed to be, it mattered very little that you skipped the odd Monday. Or that you cut out early thrice every week. The times when you weren't on an assignment were really your own to a very large extent. It's how I survived two years having gone on leave only once, and even then it was forced leave. Here it also helped that we were so many and no one had a desk assigned to them, so to notice you're missing someone had to specifically be looking for you. As far as 9 to 5's go, I think  external audit will be pretty hard to beat.

The attitude. You tell someone you're from a  Big Four firm and immediately they shut up and pay attention! You're probably someone they wanna listen to. While you're on the client's turf you're a God. You're supposed to be the catch-all know-all who'll have the solution to all their problems. It works numbers on the self esteem. You're an outsider so the rules that bind everyone else don't really apply to you. You can walk up to anyone anytime and ask them anything and not fear intimidation because they're not really your boss. Plus there's that whole aura - We're the external auditors. It's like we're from the FBI, you know? Anything we want we get. [most times it wasn't like that, but every once in a while we used to hit pay dirt].

Traditionally, when someone is leaving there's an email we send out with our last words. Some people use a form letter, but I, being me, chose to do my own, on my own terms. In it, I wrote to the management that I would forever be grateful that they took the chance on me. And that part I meant. I was as green as they come when they hired me. They took a bet and it paid off, for them and for me. There's all these things I liked about the place, and then there's all these things that made me want to down the tools and walk away. It's duality, like Charles Dickens described in A Tale of Two Cities: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us.

I used to dream about the day I'd leave. It would be dramatic, like something out of a movie. I'd be the last person, I'd take a long, pensive look around, then I'd breathe deep, shut off the lights and there would be complete darkness; and then I'd close the door behind me. And just like that, a chapter in my life would be closed. Well, it didn't happen exactly like that. I guess I'll have to save that for next time. Although the way I'm feeling about this new job, that won't be very soon.

END

the hero dies in this one

Do things sometimes happen in your life that lead you to both believe in and question the existence of a Higher Power, if not straight out God? Today I'm going to bed having had my faith in the benevolence of God renewed; but with one or two caveats.

My father was on his way to Nairobi earlier in the day, and he almost died in road accident. There was a bus behind his car and another car in front of it. The bus suddenly pulled out to overtake without having looked to ensure the road was clear, and then after pulling out noticed an oncoming truck. So the truck swerves to avoid the bus, and the truck driver notices he's going off the road so he then swerves back and ends up having overcompensated. Momentum causes his trailer to tip over taking the whole truck with it and it falls all across the road. So my dad's car only just managed to stop before ramming into the fallen trailer. The other car that was in front, not so lucky. And [how sad!] the truck driver died on the spot. As did the guy in the other car. Meanwhile, the bus which was the cause of the entire fracas - got away Scott free.

I don't want to sound like an ingrate. My dad survived and right now that's really all that matters to me. But how does something like that happen? This truck driver had absolutely no mistake. He was just going about his way; even went out of his own way to avoid hitting the errant bus driver, and yet he's the one that ends up dying. Does that sound fair at all? I'm sure the guy had a family too - what are they to think once they learn how things went down? [no pun intended] I'm not saying some lives are worth more than others - I'm just thinking it doesn't seem in order for someone to pay for another's mistakes. With their life no less. You know the realities of frailty of life never hit home like at such times - when one of your own gets involved. 

Just five kilometers per hour more than their speed was and this story could have been completely different for me. I grew up seeing my father as invincible. A survivor. Someone who'd just always be there, would probably even outlast me. And then a day like today happens and a major spanner is thrown in the works. But God did come through for us so we're going to praise him. I wonder, though, if the truck driver's family will have the strength/grace to still praise Him. I really don't know if I would. My father lived today, but a seemingly good man died. I think ambivalence does not begin to describe this feeling.

END

somewhere a clock is ticking

Elation is a strong feeling. An exhilarating psychological state of pride and optimism; an absence of depression. That's what I'm feeling, finally, now that the reality of the events of this past weekend has waned in my mind. Elation over the new job. I've done the resignation thing at my old one [most seminal letter I've written since high school], I've filled in the forms HR requires all new hires to fill, and now it's just but a matter of time. Haven't cleared yet, but I don't think that's gonna be very hard. And if it is I won't notice - I'll be just so jazzed I'm leaving. So today I find out that guess what, there's five other people also coincidentally leaving at the same time as me. Wow! One of the managers even commented "They're dropping like flies!" 

If there's something this whole experience is teaching me, from talking to guys around, is that job satisfaction gets more and more important the more someone works. At first, when you've just started out, it's usually all about the money. And so you're blind to many of the faults that may already exist in the system, and so no one bothers to fix said system and these cracks persist; or grow larger. But as time goes on, the haze occasioned by the promise of a salary at the end of every month lifts and you start to see the place for what it really is. And you start to ask yourself if you maybe don't deserve better. And then you realise that you do and that's the point you decide you want out.

Us people have a system predicated on the fact that the mystique created [by management, btw] around this so called "experience" will keep people in long enough that by the time they're leaving it won't matter because successors will have been adequately groomed. My personal feeling is that the concept is sometimes overrated. I don't really see the difference between 2 year and 3 years experience, which is one of the reasons for me the decision to move was an easy one [we're typically expected to start moving after 3-4 years. I'm moving at the end of year 2]

Anyway, I'm really hoping us guys who're leaving will galvanize HR to start treating their people better and to fix some of the cracks that have been pointed out time and time again with our system. So that then our leaving will have been, not just for our own individual benefits, but for a greater good as well. Then we'll become sort of like martyrs. That would uber-cool. But even failing that, I'm still sure that once my time here is up, I'm going to be the happiest person in the world regardless.

END

i love you but i've chosen darkness

I've seen a lot of nonsense over the years, from family and friends alike, and I'm the kind that tends to always want to believe the best in people so my expectations are always high. But I don't think I've ever been as disappointed in anyone as I was today. My idiot little brother went and got himself arrested by the police for the very same reason we've been speaking about since he was 4, and about which I thought a lot of progress had been made over the last few years: respect of people's property. It appears this time he chose the wrong woman whose stuff to play around with - she just happened to be a private investigator so luck wasn't on his side. She set a trap for him, came with the cops and had him arrested. He actually spent a night in there, and the whole of today. I meanwhile spent the whole day trying to get him out - meaning I ended up having to buy that woman a whole new video camera, coz I have to assume that fool lost it and he's just lying to everyone like he usually does. And my dad was such a doll - he flew in in about 50mins to help handle things later in the day as soon as I told him.

So no sooner has he chucked than he starts sending everyone all those messages about how today what I've seen has opened my eyes to the ways of my life, ooohhh I'm never going to behave the way I've been again, ooohhh I went through this I went through that. You know that crap annoys me even more, because this seems to be his only strong suite: apologising and committing to change. We've been here so many times before I can't even count them - he does something bad, something bad happens to him and then he says it's a wake-up call and he'll completely change. And he's the kind you can never tell when he's telling the truth and when he's not. And we've spent like a whole year without any incidents (although clearly not because this fiasco started last October, we just didn't know about it until yesterday) so that makes this seem that much worse - that we all thought so much progress had been made we'd even started trusting him again. Only for him to go slap all of us in the face and take us back right where we started 10 year ago. Just like that.

I can't for the life of me figure why it's not as obvious to him as it is to everyone else that the way he's living his life will end him up in ruins. Why he can only see the error of his ways in hindsight, never before he goes and messes up. And I don't know how many screw ups it'll take for him to learn and clean up his act. It's not that he doesn't know, he knows - you should really hear this boy making amends. What I do know, however, is that this for me was it. I've decided I won't spend my whole life worrying about someone who so clearly doesn't worry about himself. And I won't be taken advantage of. You know that unconditional love for families I was talking about? Ya, I don't think it's so unconditional any more - people just never reach its breaking point.

Remember when I first got the job many people would kill for, and then the dream went and changed so I started looking again, well today the other thing that happened is that I got the new dream job [thank you Lord!] - and it's really one of those ones [not just many people] everyone would kill for. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, and I can't even celebrate coz I'm on a massive downer. My hands aren't constantly shaking with joy like they should be; my heart's not doing cartwheels or skipping beats. All I'm thinking about is why it had to be me that got a brother like him. And that if I could walk away today I probably would. I don't know if I'm right or if I'm wrong, but this is one of those things you can't conjecture. You have to go through it to understand. Choosing the right path is never easy; it's a decision we make with only our hearts to guide us. So all I can do is ask that God takes care of that boy, because if this doesn't wake him up I don't know what will. But me... I honestly think I'm done. I love him but this time I'm choosing darkness.

END

lifetime piling up

I am now ready to admit - chronicling is not an easy thing to do with consistency. Especially a life as gripping oft-uninspired as mine. And especially when you're waiting for big things to happen that just don't seem to be coming through. And also in May (for some reason May's always been a writer's block month for me - still trynna figure out why. It's possible I may publish a paper when I do :) Anyway, I'm doing this new thing where I face my fears (except for karaoke and dancing - which I swear is a physical thing, I really can't sing or dance)

Most times, to most people, change is not a very welcome thing. Most people will spend their last breath fighting to maintain the status quo. Most times, even when it's for the better, people will resist change just for its own sake, me included. Most times. But this is one of those rarest of moments when I'm actually trying to seek it out. We moved offices to a (much further from everywhere important, less safe, less glamorous, less accessible) much less congested address that we own, as opposed to renting where everyone else is. Gotta say, tho, thumbs up to the firm for creating the new premises - those offices are such a trade-up (everything I just said about the location regardless).

But that's about all. They're trying to do this thing where everyone sits everywhere so that people from every department can get to know everyone else, but I don't think that part's working out very well - people just sit where other people they know are seated. None of the work processes has changed. None of the last minute rush mentality has changed. The virtues of work-till-you-drop-and-then-stand-up-and-continue-working are still being extolled all over. And none of the drabness I've been sensing lately has waned. It's really just old wine in a new wineskin.

So I want to move. Departments, companies, whatever. And now I want it really badly. Every passing day just underscores this for me. We're going through annual reviews as we speak, and I'm sure I'm going to come out shining - which is how I know I now fit the definition of a professional. The magic's just not there any more. I guess you could say we're past the honeymoon phase and now we're all about finding fault with each other, me and my job. I don't want to sound ungrateful - it's much better than not having a job at all. In fact, it's much better than having most kinds of jobs out there. But I also don't wanna settle just for the sake. It's always been OK to dream, right? So I'm dreaming.

I don't like change, just like everyone else. It freaks me out too. But I'm finding that even more than that, I reeeally don't like stasis. Sharks are of necessity among the most active creatures. Legend has it if they stop swimming, they die. I feel as though I've stopped swimming, and I think I might be a little like sharks that way. And I'm really hoping that God is still on my side, coz my shoulders aren't big enough for burdens like this one. Johann Franck wrote a splendid verse around 1650 in German whose English translation I think is actually better:

I defy the old Dragon

I defy the jaws of death

I defy fear as well!

The world may rage and quake

But I remain singing in

perfect peace.

God's might takes care of me

earth and abyss must fall silent

however much they rumble on.

It sounds a little dramatic, I know, but I'm really just trynna conquer life one mountain at a time. Except the mountains keep getting bigger and bigger. Myles Munroe says you can tell a vision is worth its mettle when you know in your heart of hearts it's too big for just you alone to handle. Well my vision is change. A completely different path than the one I'm on currently. And right now I think it's grand enough.

END

signed, sealed and delivered

I wonder how I don't write about my job more often. I have one of those jobs that takes so much out of you it literally becomes your life (hadi we're advised by management to move into those flats just behind the office). Ya, I'm a fun loving, card carrying, masochistic live-in-the-office, fagonistic (obviously that's the opinion of a playahater!), soon upwardly mobile external auditor. I don't think we're really into fake agony btw, the agony is real. You go from one high to the next and there's almost never a break in between, unless you're one of the lucky ones who didn't clear exams while you were in uni so twice a year you get like six weeks off study leave to go do them. And then when it's all said and done, you have to go to Sudan over the holidays - the one break everyone should be guaranteed!

For guys like me, 31st March and 30th April are very important dates. Those are the two days on which CBK requires that banks file all of their annual returns (March) and the Commissioner of Insurance that insurers file all of theirs (April). That's why we call January to April our "busy season". As with everything else Kenyan, those statements are never ready until the very last day as required by said regulators. This week has been one such occasion. Since Friday was the deadline for insurers, basically from Tuesday we used to go work clearing up minute outstanding issues late into the night, I actually remember leaving at 4AM on I think it was Wednesday. And then come Friday itself, just as I was jubilantly walking out at 6, happy that all this stuff is behind me now, in come more returns for signature and stuff. And just like that it's back to the office till 10. You ever asked yourself why you didn't leave just five minutes earlier like you'd wanted to? I know I have. Anyway, I did go back. And I did get them all signed. And sealed. And delivered. 

Let me tell you about the sense of achievement that comes with completing something that took everything out of you - it's an exhilarating feeling. It's like you're suddenly so light you can fly. You don't even want to go and sleep for the rest of your life like you've been thinking about all week. All of a sudden you start to notice - hey, look! they've put up a new flower garden here - somewhere you've been walking past everyday for the last month. I'm not saying the sun shines brighter, (that seems reserved for when you fall in love :) but there is such a noticeable change in the collective attitudes of everyone around. We all breathe a sigh of relief, and suddenly the world's a better place again. 

Those moments sometimes tend to make it all worth it, like today. But like I said, it never really ends. One high to the next without a break in between, that seems to be what we're all about. We don't know any different.

END

ashes of dreams you let die

So I hadn't mentioned it, but I finally got to go home over Easter. It was so much fun. Plus that pseudo-sister of ours who moved to Dubai came back. Didn't bring me a Nano(TM) like we'd spoken about but I'm sure I'll live. My parents seemed very pleased to see me, even tho we're constantly meeting here when they're in town, so naturally the big admonitions began, after all the welcome home's were over. Why don't I come more often? How much do I know about our stuff, and our family's possessions? If anything were to happen to them today do I know I'd have to take over things? (God forbid!) The answer was silent, pensive thought on every count.

Then the story gradually segued to childhood, and how we all grew up. Can I just say at this point that if your parents didn't do anything catastrophic to you like kick you out when you were 12 or refuse to lipa school for you then you need to respect them, and approach them with reverence. You know us kids never get to find out how much our parents give up just so they can bring us up and enable us live the kind of life we want to. And it's not just that freedom of ati now they have kids so they can't just up and move to Egypt, no. I'm talking about actual dreams and ambitions. See once they get us then it stops being just about them. They have to ensure a certain measure of security is maintained at all times. They've got more than just themselves to answer for and they can't afford to take certain risks any more. They now have to take better care of themselves, because they owe it to us to be around for as long as we need them. They have to start thinking about where they want us to go, and start laying down foundations that'll help get us there. Sometimes they might even have to change their friends (this nice lady said something very interesting to the parents in church the other week-that if they want to "...make sure your kids have good friends? Have some good friends yourself, and then let your kids play with their kids.")

This is what I've gathered from talking to mine. My mom once wanted to be a writer. She was already very good at the languages, and she'd already done literature and stuff at A-levels. My father wanted to be an electrical engineer. He's also pretty good at music and instruments and had a 'fro like The Supremes back in the '80s. Those life paths couldn't be further from what they do now. I don't think we were entirely the cause for that, there were other contributory factors too, and I'm not saying they're not happy or satisfied with the way things turned out, I'm just saying I realize now that parents do a lot more for us than just feed and clothe us. They make such selfless choices where we're concerned and don't even ask us to recognize. And then when we turn round and hate them for demanding more out of us, for wanting the best for us, they don't throw up their hands and say "Hey, at least I tried." they just keep on giving and keep on giving until we need no more.

So for the gift of life; for all the sacrifices made on our behalf; for all the bullets bitten coz of us, without complaint; for never giving up on us, and cheering us on even when no one else did;  for the late nights travelling so we could see you; for all the miracles made every Christmas; for all the lessons learned; for the people that we've become, here's a special shoutout to all the parents out there. Especially mine. You're an amazing group of people, and we children don't say that nearly enough. But we're getting better at it. Gratitude is one of those things that's a lot like beauty - it grows greater over time. As Tupac said it: ...There's no way I could pay you back/But my plan is to show you that I understand/You are appreciated...

END

harder than the first time

I can't lay claim to being the most civically responsible of citizens. But every once in a while something usually happens that makes even a Guy Like Me wake up and start asking questions. The proposed draft constitution is just such a thing (the other, of course, being a general election). In the midst of all this white noise, I decided I'd read for myself this time and I wouldn't get all my stories from (blind, emotionally charged) outside quarters. And I just don't see it. So the Kadhi's courts are mentioned, so what?? Their jurisdiction is SO limited! First both parties need to openly profess the muslim religion, and then only in matters of personal identity, inheritance, marriage and divorce. Right there, Christians, and everyone else really, are by definition excluded from these provisions. And it says so right at the top of the draft: State and religion shall be separate. There shall be no state religion. The constitution shall treat all religions equally. I really don't see how the mention of muslim in the sentence "...The jurisdiction of a Kadhi’s court shall extend to the determination of questions of Muslim law relating to personal status, marriage, divorce or inheritance in proceedings in which all the parties profess the Muslim religion." somehow elevates Islam above every other religion. This guy I know puts it very eloquently: your own light does not shine brighter through you extinguishing that of your neighbor's.

Anyway, I'm thinking everyone should just read and evaluate the draft on its own merit individually, and vote with their own conscience. And vote on the issues - none of that orange-banana nonsense. Those who can't read should find someone they trust (probably not their MP) to explain stuff to them - otherwise if we keep treating the country like it's full of illiterates, it's gonna stay that way. For each his own vote, that's just how I see it.

So the job I'd applied for, they called me for one of those aptitude tests. End of last week. Man, was that some test! I left saying whoever passes that exam is gonna deserve that job (of course by faith it's gonna be me so.) Now I'm completely unable to think about anything else. I can't concentrate on my work. I can't shore up enough faculties to do anything start to finish without having to start over at some point. I know, I've already done the test. I can't change my answers now. If something is somehow wrong it's gonna stay wrong. But that letting go, this time it doesn't seem to be in my fabric. Which explains why I'm watching baseball - I'm seeking inspiration. It's not very interesting, in fact it's downright boring (see number 3) in every way but one: you know that guy that hits the ball, (called, not shockingly, the hitter!) at that moment, when he's standing there watching the pitcher (again, not shockingly, that's the guy who pitches the ball); waiting for him to pitch it, there's nothing else on his mind, except that ball. He looks at exactly one place, and focuses on exactly one thing. That's how home-runs are scored. By locking out every distraction, by forgetting all of the unrelated trivialities, by concentrating on the ball and only the ball, the hitter hits his way into the baseball hall of fame. I need to find my hitting moment and just clear my head until those results come out.

END

faster than the speed of night

Things that take 15 minutes: from home (Mumias) to the next town at 60MPH; Wilco's Less Than You Think; cooking Santa Lucia spaghetti; Martin Luther King, Jr.'s I Have a Dream speech; Andy Warhol's record-setting auction at Christie's; a half-litre tub of ice cream to completely melt at room temperature. Short-lived, fleeting fame is called 15 minutes of fame. It also takes 15 minutes for hijackers to completely clean you out when they jack your car at end month, depending on how far from the bank you live. A friend of mine was jacked last week, and it happened to her exactly that way. They took her just as she was driving into their compound (it seems the watchman let them in) and suddenly she sees two people one with a gun. They get in, drive off with her, first to the bank to get all her cash, then they wait till next day to get the rest, then they went with her very far from town and left her by the streets and went with her car. Because this was week 1, plus the week after Easter weekend, you need to understand that when I say they took everything I mean literally everything. None of her bills was paid, her shopping wasn't done, and she hadn't even paid the rent.

Then the most amazing thing happened - she mentioned it to one or two of her closest friends in the office (and told me too somehow - I have those like large ears and I ask questions) and then it spread through the grapevine, and all of a sudden there was all these people stepping up offering to help. You know, giving cash, in kind, whatever. Everyone was so nice and helpful, right from her landlady giving her an extension on the rent. She never even had to ask, guys were just volunteering. Plus the cops actually found her car in a day. I happened to be with her when she was receiving part of the cash, and I remember exclaiming "Wow, you've got a strong support group!" And I really did think so. Our setup is sort of like a school in the sense that every year they hire many new people so we have lots based on year hired so people are obviously closer with guys their own lot, and she's from the lot two years ahead of mine (but we're still friends) so I may have assumed her lot have organized themselves into a sort of chamma or something and that's where all that stuff is coming from.

What I didn't realise, was that there was no such thing. They were just people helping out another person because they could. Turns out that so called "support group" was really just people like me. So I finally looked for her and asked how I could be of help, and I felt much better after that. All day yesterday I was actually beating myself up over having not gotten it sooner. See I grew up self-sufficient, so while I'm not overly stingy, if someone doesn't ask for something I just go ahead and assume it's coz they don't need it so I don't offer. Or at least I used not to. I'm getting better but some situations clearly still fall through the cracks. She was telling me that thing just started as a joke and she's such a good sport so she was laughing with everyone about it like a day after it happened. She could not have thought the guys were actually being serious until the stuff started trickling in. And I was like, ya, people can surprise you that way sometimes. Truth is, they surprised even me. Human beings have an unyielding capacity for love. Maybe not all of us have, but those that do inspire those of us who don't. And I can only hope that one day I'll reach that place where I'll actually be the one coming up with the initiatives. Where reaching out to a soul in need will be more instinct than the product of prodding and conscience-beating. I heard this as a voiceover on Grey's once, long ago when I was still in school: No matter how hard we try, no matter how much we fight, we fall sometimes. But there's an upside to falling - it's the chance we give our friends to catch us.

END

falling inside the black

So last week my workmate told me a story. He was involved in a small tiff once with a matatu. The mat hit him from the side, but the driver refused to accede, so they called the cops. They come and look at everything and talk to bystanders and clearly it becomes very evident - the events were open to interpretation, so justice was going to be doled out to the highest bidder. So they drag the mat and my friend back to the station. The mat driver calls his boss, his boss comes and pays off the cops, they let him go. So now it's just my friend and the cops. They tell him they're gonna have to charge him (obviously, coz the other "defendant" has just been declared innocent so by elimination...) Does he think he'll be able to chuck 4K to make all this go away. He's a good Christian, so he said no. Strike one. They take him to court. He doesn't have a lawyer, so someone over there tells him that to make things all go smoothly, he's gonna have to plead guilty, then he'll just be fined for reckless driving or whatever and everyone goes home happy. So he does that. The moment he said, he could tell he'd made a mistake. You know once you're guilty in the eyes of the law everything is now left up to their discretion. You basically no longer have rights. So this prosecutor now says that no, they don't have enough information to go on, they're gonna need to carry out further investigations. WTF!!! The guy pleaded guilty - what more do you need genius??? Anyways, the judge agrees (again, WTF!!!), and apparently also when you're guilty, bail is left up to the judge's discretion. So he denies - or it doesn't come up one way or another (remember my guy doesn't have a lawyer - he was advised it would detract from his image as cooperating with "the investigation" - term used very loosely). So now it's Friday he's going to go to jail till Monday. In remand, they make another offer, and now that he's actually IN jail the stakes are higher - is he gonna be able to get them 15K? 15K and they "lose" the file. He can walk away. He says no. Strike 2. At this point they're getting frustrated. He talks to them about a cash bail and they immediately seize on to this new-found opportunity: they can arrange for one for him, but he'll pay them 10K, then they'll give him a receipt for 5K. Implied in that transaction is, of course, a 5K bribe. He's like, guys, I'm already in jail. At what point are you gonna get it - I'm a believer. I do not bribe!! Strike 3. His wife gets there, gets him a lawyer finally, who tries to, from a friendly-face perspective, reintroduce the notion of the bribe to smooth things over, he tells that lawyer does he want to get paid or not, coz if he does, he won't bring up the bribes again. Strike 4. Lawyer  gets the message, finds another way to work with the system and gets my guy out, and then helps him out through the remaining court proceedings.

I gotta be honest here, that kind of (is staunchness a word?) is incomprehensible to me. This guy was willing to actually spend the whole weekend in jail just to stand up for a principle. He got all these opportunities even after having lost hope, and still said no. And what's more, his memories of the day aren't even bitter. He's looking at it from the perspective of the people he met there. "You know I even found some people who were arrested and no one in their families knew about it, I got a chance to witness to them, and when I got out I got to find their people and tell them." So maybe God did intend for him to end up in that cell that day. Damn! I think it's safe to say I've found a real life hero this week. I don't know how someone does that. With a lot of help from the Holy Spirit, I guess, but it must also take some courage. A LOT of courage. I got arrested once too when I was still in school,  and went hadi the cells. I didn't have to bribe anyone to get out. But I really think that had more to do with the fact that it didn't come up (a friend came and talked to the boss for me about us being only students and stuff, and lucky me I actually had my uni ID that day). If it had, I don't know what I'd have done, because believe me when I tell you, no one wants to be locked up in our Kenyan cells. 

I usually try and listen for that still small voice, and sometimes I hear it, but sometimes I can't tell the difference. You know, between what it's actually saying and what I think it should be saying. Especially in many of those, what you'd call, grey-area situations. Maybe I was supposed to hear that story. So I'd start asking myself these questions. If that incident had happened to me, and I'd been on the right to begin with, I think I would have found a way to rationalize my way out. I'd have told myself I shouldn't even be there, and isn't this one of those exceptional situations, like white lies? And I'd still have been wrong and I probably would have known it, but that wouldn't have stopped me. My church launched these things called real groups today. Basically home churches. I'm supposed to find one and join, and ostensibly they'll be able to help me work through some of these things. I hope that becomes clearer in my head with time. There's a song playing right now, by Hillsong, which I want to be my prayer: "...In my heart, in my soul/I give you control/Consume me from the inside out/Let justice and praise/Become my embrace/To love you from the inside out..."

END

raindrops keep falling on my head

Have you ever fallen from a really high point? High enough that the fall lasted long enough for you to actually have time to look around and think about it? When I was growing up we used to live in these high rise apartments, like our first three houses were apartments, and we always used to end up on the top floor. So kids being kids, we devised a game where we'd sit on that railing for the stair cases and slide all the way down. This one time, I did it with my eyes closed and didn't realize I was almost at the end until it was too late, so I went flying right off the handle - literally. I actually broke my back that day, couldn't speak for like 30 mins, but that's a different story. I'm telling you, the closer you get to the ground, it stops feeling like you're falling, and starts to seem instead like it's the ground that's rushing up to meet you, and so everything happens faster and seems more urgent.

It's like that when the rain falls. Today I did something I've wanted to do for a long time - I stood under the street lamps and looked up, and watched the rain fall. The drops come and they appear to get faster as they get closer to you, and larger too. But when they hit you, it's like all that speed and momentum suddenly vanishes, because they simply disintegrate around you and you don't feel a thing. It's like you steel your nerves for this hit that you can see coming, and then when it gets here it turns out to be a gentle soothing pat. And the sound, the constant din of the droplets hitting the ground becomes like music. It's this steadfast knocking against the roof. It doesn't stop. It creates a beat. Langston Hughes calls it a lullaby. And you actually do sleep like a baby when it rains all night. The rain does bring with it crazy traffic (which is why I was standing in it to begin with), but it also brings with it renewal. Sort of like redemption. Everything shines brighter after it. It's like a new beginning. It's like it washes away all of our troubles, and gives us a chance to start all over again. Well, it doesn't really, but it should. If you're gonna get drenched, you should at least get something out of it.

You know those little streams that form on the road coz of the rain, like little rivulets leading down into the drain? It's not coz the rain falls with such force it breaks through stone - it falls on us so we all know it doesn't. It's not that stone is easy to break through - we need dynamite to do it ourselves so we know it's not. "The drop of rain maketh a hole in stone, not by violence, but by oft falling," said Hugh Latimer. If there's something we can learn from the rain, that's it. Quiet, patient, unrelenting persistence. Hitting at the same spot and keeping on hitting till we find our level. Till we create a path to our own great success. Because after the rain, follows the sunshine. And then comes the rainbow.

END

all god's children

Kid, 9 years old, finds out her father has Huntington's disease. She doesn't know what it is, or that it can't be cured, but she knows God's almighty. So she says a little prayer. "Dear God, if you make my dad better, I promise I'll eat all my vegetables. Love, H." Isn't that something? It's like she's asking him for this incredible thing, and all she's offering in return is she'll eat her vegetables, something she should be doing anyways. I mean, yes, it's hard for her to eat them, she doesn't like them, but it's universally accepted that Huntington's is incurable, so she's basically asking Him for a miracle. And you know what's amazing, she goes to her dad and tells him it's all gonna be OK, she's prayed and God's gonna answer her prayers. Faith doesn't come in a purer form than that.

Maybe we should all have stayed little. It makes it so easy to handle the unknown, when you think you know how it's going to turn out. I'm doing another application. I saw an opening at a place I've come to like, and I went for it. A week ago, so now I have those butterflies all over again. I'm praying for a positive response, and believing like that child believed is, er, kinda hard. See, a funny thing happened on the way to the moon - I grew up. I found out that I can't fly. That my dad can't, in fact, make the rain fall. That if I jump into the river I will drown. That the tooth fairy is, like all fairies, a myth. I read the Little House books when I was a child (I'm reading them again, btw, trynna get back some of that glow) and it seemed so idyllic. Laura grew up in the marshes, around all these people that got her everything she wanted, and no one ever fought with anyone else, and the nature around her was like out of a movie. 

It's like that Faith Hill song:

Before I grew up I saw you on a cloud

I could bless myself in your name and 

pat you on your wings

Before I grew up I heard you whisper so loud

"Life is hard, and so is love, child, 

believe in all these things"

I found mayonnaise bottles and poked holes on top

To capture Tinker Bell

And they were just fireflies to the untrained eye 

But I could always tell

I believe in fairytales and 

dreamers dreams like bed sheet sails

And I believe in Peter Pan and 

miracles anything I can to get by

And fireflies

Well I've grown up so I don't still believe in fireflies, but I am still God's child, aren't I? I can still ask stuff of him, can't I? So I'm asking for this. I'm older now, so I know sometimes prayers can be answered with no. But it's not like I'm coming from the doldrums so even if it comes to that it's still gonna be OK. He's brought me this far. Maybe He's got different plans for me, I dono. But dear Lord, if it's all the same with You, this is how I want it to go.

END

sand in my shoes

Know thyself, presume not God to scan
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
...
A being darkly wise, and rudely great:
...
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest;
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;

That's from the beginning of the second part in An Essay On Man, by Alexander Pope. I think the whole thing was supposed to make us stop trynna understand God because we can't, and just accept life as it is (or refocus our attentions to understanding ourselves). Basically, because we're where we are, and not somewhere worse, whatever IS, is right. (Like Morpheus in The Matrix after they'd just come from the Merovingian and he'd refused to give them the Keymaker | Neo: Well that didn't go so well...; Morpheus: No, whatever happened, happened and couldn't have happened any other way.; Neo: How do you know?; Morpheus: We are still alive.)

We're not built to be supreme beings, us humans. We need others around us to validate our status. We need people to put us up on a pedestal and tell us we're just the ones. We need that exultation to come from other quarters so we can believe it. Because each one of us, deep down inside, knows we're not Superman. We know we have many more weaknesses than just Kryptonite. We know we can be hurt in many more places than just our heels. We're hesitant to put ourselves firmly in any category because we know; we know that we're far from being excellent. When we really look at a mirror, we can always tell, we may have strengths but we have frailties as well. We may have faith and hope, but we have limits to our capacities as well. And over the years, these shortfalls build up over each other, and they weigh down on us if we think about them too much.

I have a brilliant, eclectic mind, but I'm not Steve Jobs. I can write code, and create websites and learn new languages on the fly, but I'm not Idd Salim (I know him from high school - his views rock, btw). I'm funny sarcastic, but I'm not Chandler (or Leo from The West Wing). I'm a hunk (read tall dark and deadly, yes rockhead, I insist!) but I'm not whatshisname. I sin but I'm not the Devil. I play guitar but I'm no Carlos Santana. I have a pure heart, but I'm not a saint. I'm a good person, but I'm not an Angel. When I walk, I dono how it happens but I always manage to get sand/little pebbles into my shoes. And mud on my trousers if it's rained. I've even contemplated tucking them into my socks sometimes, but that would be unseemly.

I'm peculiar in my own way. I guess those little differences are what makes me who I am. I can't swim like the Dunford brothers can, I can't sing like Eric Wainaina can, I can't play music like my brother can, I can't analyze world events like the Tinman can, I'm not as kind as some of my friends are, I don't love unconditionally like my sister does, and I'm not as good a christian as Nancy is. I can never remember to comb my hair, or cut my nails. I cannot stand people messing with my stuff and misplacing it; I sort of have CDO on that (it's like OCD, but the letters are in alphabetical order - like they should be) I don't remember birthdays, and I don't know how to pick gifts for people, even people I "know really well." I'm selfish and I'm impatient, and I'm difficult to deal with at times coz it's my way or the highway. 

I'm imperfect. I'm human. But I'm happy. Being happy doesn't mean everything's OK. It means you've decided to see past life's imperfections. It means everything sucks and you're still doing just fine. Life becomes precious and more special to us when we look for the little everyday miracles and get excited about the privileges of simply being alive. Because when I take a step back and really look at things, I see how amazing life truly is. And that maybe, just maybe, I like being unperfect. Because that way, there's always a better place to aspire towards. There's always room at the top to improve. It's the most beautiful thing about the uncertainty: when I'm not perfect and I know it, I have nothing left to lose. Then I'm not afraid to try. Anything's possible. My fate is not cast in stone. Hope springs eternal.

END

all of a sudden i miss everyone

We don't have a family photo. Not one. I was just going through some old albums, and also looking at my aunt's wall - she's got them plastered everywhere - and it suddenly struck me - we don't have any on our wall. Does that make us less close knit than all the rest? I wonder. Who invented that concept of family photos anyway?

We also don't speak our mother tongue. None of us. My parents can - my mum does with her sisters, and my dad does with his mother, so we know they can, but they never speak it to each other, or to us. Us kids, well, let's just say the apple does not fall far from the tree. As I remember it, we didn't even go shags ever till I was like 13, and we only started going on a regular basis like every Christmas when I was in uni.

In our house, breakfast and lunch weren't meals. We never used to sit together to eat till supper time. Breakfast and lunch, it was like a buffet, the food gets made and put out and everyone serves themselves at their own convenience. Well, not always for lunch, sometimes we made a meal of lunch. But always for breakfast. That's probably the reason I even stopped taking breakfast altogether. So it follows that other than the nightly bible devotion time tradition we started when I was in Class 6, there wasn't a lot of family time. On the bright side, said devotion did help me learn the Bible. We used to rotate the teacher so everyone of us would get a day in the week where they'd be the leader.

When I was 17, we found out that our older brother was, in fact, a half brother. It explained a lot, thinking of stuff that had been happening over the years. Not the least of which was that we didn't even meet him till I was like 10, and then he suddenly just came to live with us. And also, all the time my mother's sisters introduce me to someone they always introduce me as her firstborn (so we share a father not a mother), which didn't used to compute. No worries, there were no tantrums thrown about "You lied to me! How could you??" (me to parents). I guess I understood, or I didn't care, I don't know. And really, what difference did it make, half brother, full brother. Po-tay-to po-tuh-to, right?

We lost our little sister her first year of primary school. The help had been left with her, and she'd also been sent to go get groceries. So she hatched a brilliant plan - take the girl with her to the market. Thing wrong with the plan - the help was new. Didn't know her way around. So they go to the market and on their way back, they get lost. So naturally, she asks my sister for directions. Boy did she get them! Anyway, long story short, we found her later that night - she'd led them both to a certain uncle's house where she used to be left before we got a help. Needless to say, my parents let her (the help, not the sister) go.

These are some of the things that haven't really moved me over the years but ideally should have. I haven't been very good to my family in the past. I haven't made the effort to be friends with them. To build the connection. I've trivialized our relationship, in a way you could say I have made them too small in my eyes. But as I've gotten older, and as we've gone through certain crises at different times, I've learnt - they're the one group of people on whom you can depend, no questions asked. They're the one group who're always going to have my back whenever they can. And so if they feel that way about me, it's only fair that I should reciprocate, right? And so I'm trying these days. 

I want to be the rock they can lean on. The good influence a firstborn second born should be. So our walls may be empty. So our house might not contain any of those tell-tale little memories people bond over coz we've lived in like 9 different houses since I was a child. But what are four walls anyway? A house should be what it contains, no? And that's the thing that doesn't change. Hasn't changed. Unthinkably good things can happen, even this late in the game. I'm finding that it's never too late to reach out to the ones you love. Or the ones that love you.

I was watching old episodes of Veronica Mars once during one of my spells. She had a mum who had a drinking problem, so at the end of season 1 Veronica took all of her college money and paid for rehab, and then fast forward some, the mum suddenly shows up at their doorstep, ostensibly having gone clean. And then when Veronica dug deeper, she found her mum abandoned rehab, was still drinking, and was really just back because she ran out of cash. So Veronica calls her in sometime when her dad is in the hospital and in tears breaks down telling her how she wants her gone. "You can't be here when dad gets home," she sobs, "I know, Mom. I know you're not through drinking. I know you didn't even finish rehab. You checked yourself out and that was my college money... I bet on you and I lost. I've been doing that my whole life. And I'm through." Well I haven't bet on my people yet. Not really. And I want to. As I write this, I hear Chris Martin crooning in the background that Coldplay song us people who've come to depend on second chances love so much:

tears stream down your face;
when you lose something you cannot replace;
tears stream down your face;
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes

END