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.

TOMORROW IS A NEW YEAR

I can only guess what you have to offer
Mystery and suspense surrounds your intended takeover
No one can surely describe how you will look like
When the stage you take
But either way we hope you will give us a reason to smile

I hope you heard that Otiende left the city for the lake
And Wanjiru sold her kiosk
This was after Kipyego left her for Mosop.
By the way, Wanjala gave up hope of getting a job
Now he survives on Allsops

It has been a tough unending year
Living standards getting higher and higher
With the horizon never getting clearer
You are what many describe as the messiah
If not then doom is really getting near

Kiplimo the farmer wishes you come inform of unending rain,
So that his crops may grow
Mwangi the business man wishes that you may introduce his rein
That his losses may go
All we hope is that you bless us that our worries we let go

Did I mention that you are fully filled in his calendar?
If he says he aint anxious he will only be a pretender
Power exit is his greatest worry
I hear the electorate has had enough to be wary about
They know what to do with their vote

Oh beautiful new year
Your birth is so near
Should I be happy or you should I fear
I cannot say what you have in store
But at least I know God saw me through this before.

Happy New Year Reader.
Letters from the Hocla Diary

WHEN THE MOON DOESN’T WANT TO SLEEP

When the moon goes to bed

I know it’s a new day

The sun’s rays means its gonna be okay

But what happens when the moon misses the sun?

Didn’t God say let there be day light?

And let the moon light the night?

This must have sent the moon out of sight

Which meant the two lit two kingdoms apart

But what happens when the moon misses the sun?

Nature may set us apart

Far apart like hill tops between a valley

And make us feel far away

But what happens when the moon misses the sun?

Some things seem beyond our control

Making misery take its toll

Pushing our thoughts down the lonely trail

But what happens when the moon misses the sun?

When loneliness seems to be my friend

I will not pretend

I will take a step

Because when the moon misses the sun

It never goes to sleep but shares in the warmth of its morning rays

AT YOUR CROSS

My heart is empty

I am longing for the ear piece

Some blast to help me forget this

A rough patch this is

I need something that will give me some inner peace

To last a while albeit temporary

I need a time with you to settle this furry

I will vent it out on you

I will ask for help from you

I have issues to settle with you my Lordship

Are you listening or do I come closer

Do I need a spaceship

You seem so far away

I am at cross roads

I need some answers

Both hands are holding on

I am trembling

I’m running out of energy to hold on

But letting go I wont

That is not an option

On your cross lies my solution

Answer my prayer dear Lord

Am on my knees

Will you listen to my pleas?

My eyes are looking up to you

You died that I may be free

From all chains I know it is true

Only you know what it is

The key to this seemingly closed door

WILL THE CHASE EVER END?

Money money money

Is in the hearts of many

Money like beauty is desirable

It is a daily prayer request to the miserable

It’s the buzzing sound to those in the hustle

It’s a fairy tale to those who have given up

but the ladder to those scaling economic heights

and those aiming for the top

But to those already there it isn’t the final stop

We are born and money search becomes the obvious step

we train our children to catch up

Flex muscles and learn skills to match up

even after settling down

and appearing on a pay roll

thinking we got it all pinned down

it never is enough

When life gets tough

the desire keeps mutating

and the endless pit keeps echoing

asking for more and more

Is this what we are living for?

I once thought a k was all I needed

but that was just the beginning

of a chase with no ending

Money money money

wait for me I’m coming

When will I catch up with you?

You are always on a fast pace

fooling me to hasten my steps

Doing everything to reduce the gap

only for me to fall in your trap

leaving me with air gasps

where did we go wrong?

is it when we were evicted where we belonged

from the garden where we had it all

but still man chose to fall

what can replace this?

and give us a new meaning of life?

A day starts and ends with the same strife

especially in this economic times

it gets harder by each dawn

living a life oiled by dime

money is claimed to lubricate life joints

it is a course to the river

and beauty to the diva

Where money goes

there will be friends, family and foes

Money is good

I am told

It’s a blessing from God

This is so to them that are no fools

because money like beauty

corrupts when it gets to one's mind

And strangles the conscience

Making void the human heart

Money is not food for the soul

I.D.P NATION

On a recent face book update dated 8^th July 2011, a friend was complaining of how Kenya donated one million U.S dollars, the equivalent of 82 million Kenya shillings to assist victims of the devastating earthquake and tsunami that hit Japan in March this year. According to him, this was so unfair with the IDP situation in Kenya yet to be resolved. He used an analogy of a mother giving food to a neighbour’s children when her own were malnourished and desolated. That gets many thinking of a government Intentionally Deserting its People.

Let me give you a tour of what I mean by my title of an IDP Nation. IDP to a computer geek in a Kenyan University might mean Integrated Data Processing, while a track driver along Uganda-Kenya boarder may know it to mean International Drivers Permit. For the broadband penetration spam gangs and digital copyright pirates it sends a cold chill down their spine because it implies Internet Death Penalty.

A closer look at the acronyms in my motherland Kenya, I have come to the conclusion that over time, the term in practical sense may also connote Individual Development Plan. Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) is a term that somehow has been misused for selfish reasons. Some time ago, I heard that some IDPs from the Kwanza regions of Trans Nzoia had pitched camp at the District Commissioner’s office demanding for a place to stay as they had been evicted from their own homes. Since they were eating in hotels and drinking bottled mineral water courtesy of government and donor funding, rumour has it that every Otieno, Wanjiku, Kiplimo and Wafula in town was now virtually sympathizing with them and offering to take a break from their jobs and join in the free once in a while festive.

I don’t want to raise eyebrows for the wrong reasons but don’t you think the whole thing has gone too far? There is this joke which might not be really amusing to some but it can serve as food for thought if you are familiar with the IDP situation in Kenya. The thought of how some people had been pushed to the wall by harsh economic situation as a result of post poll violence may serve as an explanation. But what happens when you come across a Kinuthia in Kiambu calling himself an IDP or an IDP Kipyego in Kericho highlands of Rift Valley? I am socialist and humanist by all means but I feel bad when three years down the line people are still hanging on to this IDP tag and crying for donor and government handouts. 

Is there a way people can accept responsibility and move on with life even if they are not to blame for the circumstances they are in? Take for instance; what happens when you are right from high school or college looking for a job in a new town with no one to run to, do you resort to living in garbage pits or go begging for food door to door? Probably no you pick yourself up and try all avenues to make ends meet. Even though some opt for precarious survival options, still many rise from scratch to make a living.

Elections’ being marred by post poll violence is no news in some parts of the world. Take Uganda my country of residence as a classic case; there was a period of agitation characterized by violence, chaos and general unrest in many parts and specifically in Kampala where the seat of power of believed to be situated. This is a price people pay for putting misplaced loyalty to a good for nothing tribesman at the expense of visionary people centred leadership in case there is that alternative.

Economic development does not thrive where the phenomenon of peaceful coexistence and transparent governance and leadership is nonexistent.  We can go ahead and point fingers at the government but what happens when a people are ignorant enough to be subjects and perpetrators of violence? How ignorant are Kenyans that after the 1992 post election violence, came the 1997 one and 2002 was not entirely peaceful in some parts of the country? Even when the Moi regime was painted as the years of tyranny, how come the worst post poll years came after he had handed over power to the then thought peoples’ messiahs? What ensued then if not violence Kenya had never experienced before? Does it serve any good to later complain when ends are not met through the eccentric means which in this case are aggression and fight for political control outside the ballot box? Some might argue contrary to my view point which is understandable in a world of freedom of expression and opinion but what is the logic in being influenced to rise against an innocent neighbor simply because they are from another tribe? 

On July 6^th, the Daily Nation reported a story of how the members of I Don’t Pay taxes Parliament were conspiring to strip the PM’s and the VP’s wives of their allowances if the three do not revoke the efforts to make MP’s pay taxes. And to make their threats more serious, the principals were risking going home without the golden handshake in form of allowances. I know you may think I was amused by this habitual peculiar selfish trend in Mr. Politician but I was not. What got me smiling is the swearing, cursing and the strong anti Mr. politician chants that recurrently echoed as I went through the comments that followed the link. One thing that I can promise for sure is that come the next general election, we might as well be sure to have more Individual Destruction Plans when the hated-(read secretly loved) bribe dishing politicians turn to the youths for assistance. 

In my assumption, what goes on in the negotiation chambers is; I give you the ignorant electorate ksh 100/probably a dollar for chang’aa or keg and you give me the power to take my children to study in the west. In other words, I am buying your neighbour’s right to sleep in a descent house. When all is said and done, 2012 might be another year for the national self made IDPs rhythm. It is an Individual Development Plan for the Kinuthia’s of Kiambu and Kipyegos of Kericho who are after the government and humanitarian free goodies while to the Chepkurget in Eldoret who cannot sell her milk to the mama Wanjikus, this is nothing but an Individual Destructive Program.

Imagine producing milk in surplus and you cannot sell the milk to your neighbour because you need his money but not the living body that works for the money. Think about that Kenyan working tirelessly to own a car which is a symbol of prosperity in the village in the times when petrol is for the selected few in a land of barricaded roads due to violence. And what about the Kenyan businessman in Malaba who cannot access his goods because the youths in Kibera have enough extra energy to destroy railway lines but still cry foul over unemployment. What of the woman in Korogocho struggling to raise ksh. 100 where a 20 litre container costs 20 shillings because peace is an alien word? 

Give it a thought before you go In Deep Prayer to intercede for or recommend Mr. Politician the “monster” to the pope for absolution. He is just playing his cards well in a survival for the fittest Darwinian world and in case you are yet to be oriented into the workings of the system, then welcome to manipulation 101. As there is the wine connoisseur, so is the political mind reader in other words politics genius playing with his subjects like characters on a chess board. Those who are familiar with the phrase “wanapiga watu wetu vita bali sio mimi pekee/it’s not only me but our people that are being fought” know what I mean.

In a multi tribal society of 42 aligned along “those” verses “us”, some politicians thrive in an Inter Dependency Political strategy to survive the cut and make it to the house of law makers.  Such a mentality conceives the Gemas unity of survival necessity and the KKKs in a land where Mr. I Divide People carries the day. When objectives are achieved through the divide and rule strategy of development Ideas Deprived People in parliament, our sins catch up with us and then we are In Deep Problems when Ocampo comes calling. When that happens, the culprit big fish eyeing the house on the hill has nothing left but to chant a prayer, “Hope I Don’t Perish now that our people cannot salvage my political future.”

 It will be a presupposition to generally claim that all politicians are a bunch of venal and egocentric leaders if I don’t pause and applaud some of the selfless and people centred leaders Kenya boasts of presently and in the past.  Nevertheless, it is somehow innate that human beings have a high propensity to be selfish and the selfishness accelerates in the company of the like minded. While the original Kenyan IDP still spend cold nights in drenched tents, I Do Pray that the noble few humanistic political activists will push the salvation agenda forward and spread a peaceful propaganda for the sake of the future that will see the birth of an anti-IDP Nation.

See you fellow citizens of an IDP nation after the 2012 general elections if God wills. With the repeated political patterns over the years, I hope it is not going to be possible for even the worst of history students to somehow predict the future political alignments and possible post poll outcome based on past events.

God bless Kenya my motherland.

WORRIES AND PROBLEMS

Matthew 6:25-ff

"........25Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

26Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

27Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?

28And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

29And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

30Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

31Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

 32(For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.

33But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

34Take therefore no thought for tomorrow: for tomorrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."

(King James Version)

 
Life is short enough for you to make it shorter!!!!!