CHANGING TIMES

There has never been another 5^th January 2012. There is and will be only one of its kind. Despite change in times, January like new born believers has a lot of recurrence in habits. These are the times we all feel ambitious, goal oriented and ready to embrace the endless opportunities that come with the New Year. The smoker swears to stop inhaling carbon monoxide, the muscle fanatics swear to hit the gym, while the enemy of teetotalers struggles to maintain his new found habit, New Year resolutions find their way into the new diaries that will soon be forgotten on the book shelves. We all want to embrace changing times with a new paradigm towards life- at most up to the second week of January.

The long anticipated festive season came and passed. Yes you got the time off, got your dream dress and visited the most exquisite of places. The salty coastal water, the fat dripping nyam chom you swore to avoid at the beginning of 2011, the brown bottle that cost you your family came calling and like a slave dragged by the neck, you succumbed to it. 

They told me life is short, live each day as though the sun won’t rise tomorrow but what is the cost of such a philosophy. What of the head master whose school appeared on the paper as a top performer? What will happen now that his admission forms are on demand? He will remind you of escalating oil prices thus an increase in the fee will be in order.  To a new generation parent at the supermarket tills doing shopping for their school going kids, it sounds like a fairy tale when the golden generation claim that bread cost a cent during their times. What went wrong? Times do change. If this is the trend, if this wheel has invented itself(as no one wants to take blame), then woe unto them that will obey the Eden command to fill the earth.

It’s been long since I last had a prose writing date. For those familiar with the addiction, there is what one would call the dry literal spell or a general dry season in terms of ideas flow. Like what the Arsenal fans are familiar with in their chase for silverware for over a decade? Correct me if I am wrong.  Apart from the fact that it’s a new year, one of the many things that have changed over the last couple of months is my physical environ. 

It’s now a new year and a new month connoting change in time while in terms on locality, Nairobi and its environs are some of the areas that the physical me is stationed. Welcome to my new environ located along a source of life; on the East of Nairobi. At least I can proudly say so thanks to Ecko Didda’s Ghetto anthem. Unlike some of you who may be breathing the cool ocean breeze or basking in the glory of the sunny beaches along the coastal stripe anywhere on earth, my apartment (read rented room on a flat) lies on the banks of Nairobi river. Up to that point, I am sure I may relate with a few of my readers.

While the blanket business may not be a very good idea at the coast for the, it sure is here as it gets really cold(in Kenyan standards for my outside the equator readers) more often than not. One of the common phrases this ends is that there is nothing to easily predict as far as the Nairobi weather is concerned unlike the exchange trend between our shilling and the dollar which has been quite the opposite over the past months.

I am a writer or at least a freelance writer not because of the number of published articles, although this is a dream dreamt by a man in a fairy tale(seems far from reality, right?), but by virtue of having fallen in love with my keyboard. Just to bring to an end this dry spell, I was thinking of changing my blog http address to embrace my full names. As I toyed with this, I remembered my high school nickname which automatically became my first email address just like some of you have done. As expected over the years, the naming underwent a progressive metamorphosis and coupled by necessities and circumstances, I ended where I am. Talk of changing times. As I write, my curriculum vitae calls for use of my full official names, or at least initials not because I have a choice but like many other people, I am a victim of circumstances.

The other day I was listening to some Gregory Isaac song that used to be a classic when I was in high school then drifting my mind down memory lane, it dawned that I am growing old. Looking back at the way we would crisscross the whole market looking for bell bottoms to wear with a haircut suggesting having embraced the day’s swagger, it leaves nothing but insomnia and sometimes I laugh and wonder if I can pull the same today because it seems weird now.

In a world where the Mohawks, harem pants, the pencils, tights and some uniform plastic sandals are the identities for both young and old (latecomers?), change will still catch up with the crusaders of any trend which though new today may be ancient and outdated when the wind of time blows.

Life is one flowing river whose length is quite unpredictable and destiny known to all though can be sudden to some. The meandering spots can come at different points in the course of the flow. These may be equated to the stages which we all hope to go through.

Through all this, change is the only common denominator. No one can run away from it and even if we were to run, it still catches up with us. One day some are freshmen joining college, they meet all sorts of friends and have what they deem are the best days of their lives then before they even call for it, graduation exits them from that phase of life. It is like cheetah cubs being rendered independent before they have mastered the art of hunting just because there are the siblings in need of a chance to experience life in the jungle.  It is not surprising that when a kid is born, some taps on the back are inevitable to make it cry as if it is forced to mourn for joining misery land.

Talking of after graduation, how many still have their high school best friends in their inner circles? Few do. At least I was with my high school desk mate in the course of December attending to the same course. No one is to blame for the separate ways people take, maybe time is. Have you ever met someone who used to be your closest friend, one you would talk and laugh endlessly over nothing and everything but today is somehow a total stranger? You then wonder what happened to phrases like” You are the sibling God forgot to give me”?

Some days ago, my eldest sister would always remind me never to leave a power switch on when not in use, tap water running or play an electrical gadget overnight as that would lead to unnecessary bills. The need to recycle water and tap rain water was a constant anthem. All this used not to go well with me but it is amazing what time does. Now living under a rented roof, having to pay my own water and power bills leaves me almost reiterating the same songs to visitors coming to my place. Just the other day, I would boil beans using a coil cooker (don’t try that in a rented flat!!!) religiously use a water heater before heading for the bathroom or rinse a shirt in a basin full of water. If only I could turn back the time before the landlord comes calling but then does time flow backwards?

We finish college, search endlessly for jobs while others seek independence in self employment. Whichever way we opt, God blesses us with returns in the long run whether in six, five, four or three digits at the end of the working period. Whatever way we decide to spend the fruits of our sweat, the cycle still gets repeated as days come and go.

One of my college friends is busy working on his nuptial arrangements scheduled for April. Similarly, my brother is planning on his meant for early this year. Looking back, I can see the same guy accompanying me to a nearby stream to swim and fish. This is the very same guy who was running around in a short with no shirt and nothing scared the hell out of him. Like many others, we will all walk down that road at some point whether we cohabit, elope, legally get married or are forced to take the one betrothed to us at birth. Then as a mini nation is born, responsibilities becomes the only word we know.

Times do change. It is January and I must say the last 365 days have passed across lessons in a major way. One was the fact that pride begets nothing and whatever we sow is what we reap.  When we spice peoples’ lives, they spice ours. I have learnt that a merry Christmas and a happy New Year text goes a long way to attract a similar one of its kind.  And to cap it all on the lessons from the festive season, I introduce my first time reader to the Stephen’s Fs theories of a meaningful life, just like Football means a lot to a man, Family is very important. When time changes, little humans turn into men/ladies and they beget little Cains and Abels who complete the cycle and generations sprout.

We only have one nineteenth birthday even if we will live to be nine hundred and ninety nine years like Adam and his immediate descendants. The sooner we embrace and prepare for change the better. This is a benign cry familiar to all that care to listen to innate insight that every man has in his conscience. Ken Walibora was right in his Siku Njema narrative that change is the only constant denominator.

Welcome to 2012, where on Kenyan calender, it is the year of the politician. You know what to do with your vote as the writer of the poem TOMORROW IS A NEW YEAR claims.