Dad Again

Dad Again

On 11th November 2011, God blessed us with a wonderful baby boy by the name Kenzie Kahuria. This is a great blessing that my sweetheart Hellen and i received from the Lord just as the Bible says that children are a gift from the Lord. And it adds that all good and perfect gifts come from the Lord, proceeding thither from the father of the heavenly lights. That is a fact we have never doubted for a single moment and that is a fact i will forever affirm as long as i live on Planet Earth. It feels great to have a son in your house especially when people keep repeating to you that he looks like you; let the reader understand. 

I love children and i have always been fond of Kenzie and we have always been buddies. Hellen has always told me, ' that dude is obsessed with you.’. There is a change that i am short of words to explain when you get home and someone shouts, "Daddy!!” You may have had the worst day around or even feeling fatigued to the point you desire nothing. But when a young human being calls you daddy, you are bound to feel revived. I have always reminded myself that i see the reason to labor when my son calls on me. 

When i was growing up i made some prayers to the Lord. One of the prayers was that i want to get married by age 28 and have my children by age 34. That time i was giving myself an allowance of 2 years before i get my first born and a gap of two years between my children. Of course i knew for a fact that i alone would never suffice to bring a human being on planet earth neither would i find my size increasing exponentially by virtue of a human being developing in my system. So i prayed for my wife; that she would be strong and have the grace to do that which i could not do as i do what was within my power and ability. Our elders say that babies never came to the timid and feeble so i knew i had to be up to the task. But i also acknowledge that this had to be an action prompted by faith and not a mere manly show. I am happy to say that at the point of convergence of faith and action, a miracle happened. 

Let me also confirm that indeed God answers prayers and the next time someone tells you anything to the contrary, tell them to get behind thee. I am saying this because i am now a Dad again to another lovely boy by the name Kayden Kiarie. Kayden was born on a notable day in the year known as equinox; the day when the sun is overhead the equator. Although they tell us that the equator is an imaginary line, i do not use this to conclude that the favor of the Lord upon my son is imaginary. I take it with the symbolism that a man who has prayed for his children should take and i have no apologies about that. I am yet to hear many comments about how Kayden looks like me but i have heard comments that he looks like Kenzie, a fact that i confirm. This means that through deduction i can thus say; because Kayden looks like Kenzie and Kenzie looks like me, then Kayden looks like me. I can also affirm it through contradiction and say; 'assume to contrary that Kayden does not look like me. Then it means that he does not look like Kenzie. This is a contraction because it has already been proven that Kayden looks like Kenzie. Therefore Kayden looks like me. 

And so with all the powers bestowed on me as the head of my family, on behalf of Christ who is my head, and in consultation with Hellen my Sweetheart, and with Kenzie as a witness, i have welcomed Kayden Kiarie to this family. Kayden you are welcome to partake of the immeasurable favor that the Lord has bestowed on my family. May you join us in our long held tradition of serving the Lord and may you always be another reason for our joy. 

Goat Eating

This is the third week running for the nationwide teachers’ strike. I am neither a student nor a parent at this juncture; but at least I’m a relative, a neighbor or so to say to either. But in my life I have experienced a situation like the one parents and students are experiencing, actually during a similar season. The teachers’ strike of 1998 brought about happenings that have been prettily nailed in our memories; thanks to the Kenya National Union of Teachers. Those who followed the situation closely can remember that in that time the security men were asked to extend their role to the examination rooms courtesy of the Kenya Certificate of Secondary Examination. Rather funny or isn’t it? Reminds me of the saying that exits the cat, enter the mouse.

 The whole episode brought about quite some interesting scenes. Or how does it seem to you when you imagine a policeman moving in, out and around an examination room with a loaded gun? And do you even wonder how the armed fellows would handle a case of cheating in an exam? I dare they would not even distinguish between genuine students and exam cheats. But it is customary to imagine that if by any chance they were sure that actually there was cheating in the exam, they would shoot in the air and fire tear gas canisters to disperse the cheats or better still make them forfeit the cheating materials. And then their inspector would report to the press, “We got a tip off that some students were cheating in the exam. My boys acted very fast and they shot in the air and the students ran away and left behind the cheating materials. Here are some of the materials that my boys found.”

 On a serious note, our police officers are sharp shooters and we know they are well trained for their work. And when they want they do their job well. I would not quite say the same about exam invigilation. I heard that in one school students carried setbook guides during a literature exam and when asked by the police officers what they were carrying, one student replied, “This is called a guide. You cannot sit a literature exam without it, the same way you cannot sit a mathematics exam without a mathematical table. And in a Chemistry practical exam, a police officer insulted and slapped a student for persistently asking for Silver Nitrate and the police officer told him there was no such a chemical as Silver Nitrate to be used in that exam and when the student pointed to a beaker written AgNO3, the officer was mad and said, “this is AgNO3, and not silver nitrate can’t you read!”

 That’s why it is hard to say with surety that the KCSE Exam of 1998 was done without major irregularities. On one hand one would argue that no student however daring would trade their life at the altar of a good grade. In other words no student would cheat at the sight of a gun. On the other hand one would say that the police would never be able to effectively detect cheating in the exam.

 In my High school, Wiyumiririe High School, the big issue was not the cheating in the examinations but the indiscipline that ensued following the teachers’ strike. At least we knew for the exam there was Kenya National Examinations Council to take care. And how they handled it was their problem. All students save the candidates were sent home during this period as was the case in virtually every school in the country. The candidates in our school chose to live a life of their own. They lived their life with no need of any program leaving them to do what they wished when they wished and how they wished. The school was in a state of anarchy and pretty funny incidents you see. One of them was the scramble and partition for food. Some students had to endure a week without tasting anything from the dining hall and relied on the school canteen for their stomach needs. Their colleagues would go in before them and take the food forcefully out of the dining hall to a place only them knew; not even caring to return the utensils to the dining hall. This was a trying time and even the coolest and most disciplined students found themselves putting all manners, all logic and rationality aside to survive in this complex jungle in the name of a school.

 And soon there was a new habit in the school for the candidates. They even invented slogans like, “if you have it, you fought for it, you deserve it.” And they would keep asking each other; “Man how was your day?” And then an answer would come, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished the food, and I have kept the soup.” That was the answer of success. But there would always be the answer of desperation, “ Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of no food, I will fear no hunger.”

When the rest of us returned to school after the agreement between the government and the Kenya National Union of Teachers, we found our school in a pathetic state. Annoying scenes. Awful states in our dormitories with so many items missing. I was the new Captain of Kihaaro 1 dormitory and students streamed to my cubicle demanding that I do one thing or the other. It was so sickening and disheartening. Contrary to the saying of our elders that only those who leave something as they go find something upon their return, this time round those who left something found nothing upon their return. I joined my fellow captains to the Principal’s office to report the menace.

The principal sympathized with the students but was non-committal on what the school would do about the issue. Actually as we left his office, we had nothing pretty to tell the students. All the school captain, Abel Mucheru would say to the students was, “well, my fellow students, you can be sure that Mr. Warutere is aware of this issue” But when Mr. Kimemia an English Teacher reported that his goat was missing, the principal took the matter with more seriousness. Perhaps he knew if he doesn’t act, then his goat would be next. The goat disappeared the same day the rest of the school reported back but it must have been before we arrived and the loss was linked to the form fours. So a very serious investigation began. There was no information available that could lead to the culprits of the goat scandal. But the investigations went on. And in a show of arrogance a number of candidates admitted to us that they had eaten the goat so the issue now was how to apprehend the masterminds.

The more we tried to investigate, the harder and complicated it was getting. The candidates ensured they plunge us into a world of contradiction and we were totally confused. A neighbor to the school confirmed that he had seen some boys taking away the goat from where Mr. Kimemia had tethered it. The boys had warned him to mind his own business. Further investigations also revealed that the goat had been slaughtered in Kihaaro 1 Dormitory; my very own dormitory. So the school captain appointed a team of investigators consisting of high profile captains including myself. I was to head the team and Abel told me, “Chris, please make sure we drive to the depth of this matter” “ I will Abel”, that was my promise. So we started by checking in and around the dormitory. We did not get the slightest evidence that a goat had been slaughtered there. There was no smell of a goat not a trace of blood. This was becoming an enigma.

To widen the scope of the investigations, we had to assume that these candidates cooked the meat and they did not take it raw. Of course a goat is a small animal and wouldn’t be eaten by a very large group and so the beneficiaries of the delicacy must have as a matter of fact prepared the meat in a secluded place. This means we had to go around the school and have a look at some of the secret spots like common smoking spots and such like places. Of course we knew a fire in an open place would definitely leave traces that would be visible many days after. We found no such evidence and we were now giving up. The matter was becoming complicated since some form fours actually told us the goat was cooked in the school kitchen during early morning hours.

This was becoming interesting and we went to the school kitchen and interrogated a few cooks and the cateress. There were no traces of meat having been cooked in any form in the kitchen save the meat that had been cooked for the whole form four class. The question was, did they roast it? Or did they boil it? Or did they fry it? There was no cooking fat unaccounted for according to the cateress so that would have ruled out frying but not so fast since they would have been smart enough to carry their own cooking fat. In fact whoever might have been involved must have been smart enough not to leave traces. And roasting? May be, but how without a single trace unless the one who did that had first sealed all loopholes including colluding with the night watchmen.

 So we went back to Mr. Warutere with nothing tangible. All I told him was, Mr. Principal we have every reason to believe that that goat was slaughtered and eaten within the school. However, as for now, there is no actionable intelligence that could lead to the apprehension of those students who did that. And it might also be risky for us captains to continue in these investigations since those who did it are around and they are form fours and we are form threes. So I suggested that if there was need to carry on the investigations, perhaps teachers were better placed or an external team. We left the principal’s office without having reached a consensus on the way forward and even after we tried to present the case for the students who had lost their property during this season, the principal simply told us that it was unfortunate students had to lose so much and the school will ensure that does not happen again in future. But the school according to him had no way to compensate the student since there was no such an expenditure vote in the school budget.

 A week later we leant from reliable sources that Mr. Kimemia had been compensated by the school for the loss of his goat. This was so annoying since no student was compensated for what they lost. And all we could do is just wonder, “What kind of a society is this that has no justice for the small and lowly? Who cares for the common man down there? And why do crooks and criminals just do their thing and still continue smiling at us because we are too dumb or too weak or too unwilling to apprehend them? But most important, when will we ever enjoy the fruits of our labour and not have a few eat our goat?

The NGO Accountant

At the beginning of this month I found myself in Nakuru Merica Hotel, a modern styled Hotel in the heart of Nakuru Town, the town in the rift valley that prides itself as one of Kenya’s cleanest towns. In the name of Financial Management training under the Non State Actors support programme funded by the European Union. It is one of those rare occasions where an accountant is working outside the office. It’s rare. Unfortunately, many of us accountants are always glued to our office desks, surrounded by heaps of documents like payment vouchers, LPOs, Petty cash vouchers to mention but a few. We are always answering money related queries or putting documents in order else find ourselves in trouble at the hour of reckoning.

Accounting is arguably one of the most risky careers. That’s why even us accountants have a self imposed prison and we think taking time at our desks is the only way we are sure we will minimize the many queries, the uncalled for suspicions and the unwarranted doubts from the management. I mean, It is like management have an eternal attitude that accountants are career liers, and have over time perfected the art of manipulation, misrepresentation and outright self enrichment. Last year a former schoolmate told me that his boss, the finance manager had been fired and he was the acting finance manager. And of course in the eyes of everyone, it was his turn to eat.

I work in the NGO world and here unlike in the corporate world, money exists to be spent. A friend of mine jokingly told me that the biggest stress of an NGO is when funds remain unspent because they have to figure out explanations to the donor. You work very hard to convince them how on earth you could not spend all the money they gave you. So in the name of spending and of course project implementation, we accountants are facilitators and all we do is release funds to those raring to spend. And we watch them make trips, book state of the art hotels, book flights here and there and wish them all the best in their activity.
We give them the money and we sometimes feel jealous but we won’t say; that is not our portion. And then we wait for them to return and we require they account for the money. Of course this is when no one wants to see or hear of an accountant. They love us as go out and hate us as they return. In fact some have insinuated that we always feel bad that they have opportunities to adventure and make some extra money. That is not necessarily true. They should know that at the end of the day, we are the guys that the auditor will be looking for and however badly or hastily they may have put together the accounting documents, the buck stops at our desk.

They say you cannot collide with a train and remain the same again, you cannot dip in fat and still have a rough skin. And by extension, they think you cannot stay around money and be poor again. They are wrong on this. I must state here categorically that those accountants you see, those bank cashiers that issue and receive millions. These people walk home many times because they lacked fare. They skip meals and pretend to be busy but even if you were to set them free, they still won’t eat because the pocket forbids.

So the aforementioned training was also to us an opportunity to feel how others feel when they go out. It was our time to bask in the joy of reaping from the funds we safeguard with so much zeal. It was some way of letting us know that we are not a forgotten lot. Even when our job places many demands on us, we still matter. I always look at my colleagues in programmes and hear them narrate their experiences in the field. The fact that they have that time for such stories when I have deadlines to meet is not always pleasing. In fact sometimes deadlines become so much stress when they have not submitted their reports in time. As I write this article, I am reminded it is end month and actually the end of quarter one therefore several reports are due. PAYE, NHIF, NSSF returns are needed. The board wants a financial report from me. A number of donors also need some reports. I have to look into the budget and cashflow. Not to mention that 2011 audit is under completion.

I do not regret being an accountant. I love my job and I will give it my best. I do not have anything against those working in programmes and projects. I am just thinking loud and I know walls have ears. So no one should be offended or overexcited by this article. Let us all do our best where we can and where we chose.

A History Never to Repeat

Today being International Day of peace, Kenyans have several reasons to reflect about peace and choose peace.

In August 2006, i was in my home village in Murang'a county. I had just cleared my campus studies in the University of Nairobi. To be specific Chiromo Campus, the home of the living and the dead. And as i threw in CVs here and there, the normal Kenyan style, i got a short contract with the defunct Electoral Commission Of Kenya. Don't accuse me of having associated with an incompetent commission. These days you may never know the gravity of your former appointments until you apply for a public post and you are going through some vetting. For future reference, i state categorically that the ECK that time was competent and what i was doing was a legitimate and noble task; i was doing voter registration.
I had been in Nairobi for sometime and it occured to me that a few things had changed in my home county. One of them was that some of my fellow young men had succumbed to the influence of the outlawed Mungiki Sect and had become faithful followers and practitioners of the outlawed sect. It was shocking news because although the Mungiki Menace was the top news in the country that time, i would never have imagined that my former classmates, my friends, my neighbours and even relatives would form part of my worries in this world. At least not in that style. They say whatever bites you is on your garment, i mean we were all living in fear of people we didn't have to fear. My constituency, Mathioya for that matter had always been a calm and secure place surrounded by areas where the Mungiki menace was quickly spreading. But now the reality of this bad influence on our young men had become a homimg reality. Wonders will never cease.
During this time, i remembered how in 2002, i had started a passionate campaign aimed at enlightening young people in my locality. As a young preacher and youth leader, i had partnered with some like minded young people and we would hold seminars and meetings aimed at positively influencing young people and encouraging them to live positively and to involve themselves in constructive usages as they seek to be better people. Many of us went to pursue higher education after that and perhaps the good work we started was discontinued or perhaps the Mungiki influence had become too strong to beat. It was sad to see young men waste themselves yet pretend to be the society heroes. I bet that was a classical form of deception and the worst to ever hit our youth. It is incredible how strong young men would turn to idlers and imagine that they will profit from the efforts of others, worst of all the elders who had raised them.
As for me i saw a nation with a dull future and one that would turn tragic. I imagined what would happen when so many young people joined this sect and continued to endanger lives of Kenyans. The kind of stories that were coming through that time were worrying. Of people beheaded, of young men forcibly circumcising their sisters and their mothers. Of extortion of money from business people. And of live threats that had reached worrying magnitudes. This was glorification of insanity and our society was becoming one where life was void to those who merited and it seemed our nation was being taken over by thugs and crooks. One wondered what the future offered with gangs fast taking over livelihoods and there was no solution at hand. It was particularly worrying that some leaders were tolerating these gangs for their own gain and it was disgusting to see how senseless some leaders could become.

In those days, people talked in whispers especially when it had to do with the sect. The fear of death had become so intense that many people in Central Kenya, riftvalley and Nairobi were not sure they would live an extra day. The bad part of this era was that the sect was targeting innocent Kenyans to prove a point to the government. We felt helpless and we wondered how all of a sudden emerging crooks had become too much and the government was not of help. They say the arm of the government is long but that time we felt that if indeed the government has a long arm, then that arm must have been cut by the gangs that were emerging. I remember an old man in my village telling me how youth was being abused, “in the days of old, whenever young men armed themselves, their community felt safe and we would sleep sound”, he said. “These days our biggest life threat is our youth”, he continued. The glaring reality of a wasting young generation was becoming everyone’s concern. He was one of the Maumau survivors and he wondered where the society was headed to when it lived in fear of its own. In fact alongside Mungiki were many other informal armed groups that kept our fists on our bellies. We badly needed a solution and we did not mind the form in which it came.

So when the bold minister John Michuki gave a warning to Mungiki to surrender or face the wrath of government, we felt that was the solution we badly needed. We had similar words from former ministers and security chiefs and we hoped that for once someone would live to their words. Michuki is my county man and I wondered how he would deal with Mungiki after considering that a good number of them came from an area he called home and we have been used to politicians preaching water and drinking wine. But with the track record that this bold leader had shown in taming the matatu sector, we were somehow optimistic. And all we could say was, “ do it Michuki, we trust your styles”.

Michuki gave shoot to kill orders and human rights groups were on his case. But the unapologetic Michuki went on and Kenyans were surprised at the might that the government can show when it wants to. In my constituency a contingent of twenty General Service Unit offices were sent in one truck and two land rovers. To date no one believes that only twenty security men could tame youth in a whole constituency. It is known as the might of government. Michuki taught us that there comes a time to make hard decisions for a better future. He did not mince his words and he warned parents in Murang’a to talk to their children otherwise be prepared to bury them. Those were painful words coming from a government officer. And his word to the human rights activits was, “ Kenyans can choose, whether they want to continue being killed by Mungiki or whether they want the government to kill Mungiki”.

We hail Michuki for turning our tense lives and rekindling hope. The trend that the nation had shown was worrying and we have enough proof because it is through this same wave of armed gangs that the Kenya 2007 post election violence was propagated. I hope we young people leant lessons from this dark era in our country’s history. I pray that Kenya teaches Africa that a country can correct bad trends and reform. I pray that we all learn that there will never be any good fruit from crime and violence. We hope that in this new dispensation Kenyan leaders will be bold enough like John Michuki and do the needful whatever the cost. This is an election year and the least we can pray is that whatever happens, we will embrace each other and seek peace. I appeal to all young men and women to refuse any bad influence, to get rid of anything that comes in the way of a prosperous nation.

Think about this? Where would Kenya be today if we had allowed Mungiki and other gangs to continue raining terror? Where would we be I the 2008 post election violence had not been contained in time? Perhaps many of us would not be alive to read this article. Perhaps our economy would be on its knees and many would have died of starvation. When I see the wonderful roads, the vibrant economy, clean cities, smiling Kenyans, I can only pray that we will never get back to this bad state. There is a saying in my language that goes, “death comes not when you get into a bad habit, but when you reform and later return to the bad habit”. This is a history never to repeat dear Kenyans.


Chris Kahuria
Accountant,
Nairobi Peace Initiative- Africa
P.O Box 14894-00800
Tel: 4441444
Nairobi, Kenya
Cell: 0724 968 689
Email: ckahuria@npi-africa.org

Kenzie Kahuria

On the eleventh day, of the eleventh month in the eleventh year of the twenty first century, a baby boy was born. The birth of Kenzie Kahuria was most timely . In fact it is one of those best moments in life when a couple awaits their most treasured blessing. When the painful moments are quickly being sent to the recycle bin and joy is fast and rapidly taking over the scene. I have passed through many stages and moments in life but i must say that this is one of the most memorable moments of my life perhaps only next to the day i said 'i do'. You see i was seeing what will be the most valuable and important marks of my life. It reminds me of those science classes in primary school when we would outline the characteristics of living things. And those characteristics were arranged in such a way as to say, ' and last but not least, living things reproduce'. So now there is enough proof that Hellen and i are living.

A few days before this happened we have been going through what i called, 'the long wait'. So now the long wait is over and the results of waiting evident. And this boy seems to understand why he had to wait. He is so relaxed and does not want to live in the naivety of a one day old human being. Perhaps we thought he feared the Al Shabaab and the free fall of the Kenya shilling. But as for him, he looks quite okay and not a chink of fear is on his face, not an expression of tension is on his eyes, nor a mark of worry on his gaze. He does not seem to be in any hurry to complete tasks which means he is well on schedule; what is more, he lives in a way to say that though he took a little longer to come to this world, he is well on track. May be he wanted to be born on a day like this with so many alike digits. 11-11-11. He looks happy and content.

Of course it is too early to tell whether he takes after the Dad or the Mum, although i have no problem with whatever he takes from either of us. He has every right to be what he deserves to be, what he is made to be and of course when he is grown, what he wants to be.
And so with the powers vested in me as the Head of this family, i take this opportunity to welcome Kenzie Kahuria to be one of us and to be a source of our joy, to be a reason why we labour day and night and to be a trigger to our anticipated future. Kenzie you are our joy, you are God's precious gift. You are so handsome and you confirm to us that your Mum and Dad are fearfully and wonderfully made. We are so grateful to God that He saw it right that you come to this world through us and be part of us. We will endeavour to fulfill our part towards completing whatever it is that God intends us to do to make you the man He wants you to be. We love you with all our hearts.

This Inflation Thing

Beloved Kenyans have had to tire
And endure the streets of mire
No more comfort atop the tire
In the heart it feels like fire
For none can take the note of need dire

Tis now become a great bad pain
And the cry always was vain
It touches not the affection main
Even while the Heavens shower rain
The common man is just a grain

So as they go up and down the town
They feel just to fall down
And have all cause so to frown
For what they feel never is known
By those who rule the town

The trouble has turned most
As up and up goes the cost
And down and down all hope is lost
So when the air has turned frost
They only curse the power ghost

What is this thing inflation?
It’s become a serious infection
And the economy has lost motion
And do I even have to mention?

Anyone up there care to hear?
Any thither hold our plight dear?
As we count each day in the year
Will we also count rise in fear?
And is the solution near?

The Long Wait

It is said that women are quicker in decision making than men; and this is portrayed right from the word go, I mean from day one in this world. Actually before birth. When time is due to make a decision, a man will still be debating within himself and try to bring into perspective all logic and rationality. A story is told of a man who had his family go a day without food because when he was asked for money to buy food, he reacted very harshly, "What do you mean? But we did a major shopping just the other day." That was his first reaction and so everyone thought he would give money anyway. But he took all his time and finally left the house. He didn't mean to starve his family. It’s just that he took all his time trying to calculate whether that rate of consumption was reasonable, with the current economic trends and high inflation not forgetting the free fall of the Kenya shilling which the CBK governor had not managed to reverse. Finally he forgot about giving money and he is those kind of men who insist on being told something only once so no one would have reminded him. Perhaps if the same information was given to a woman, she would have provided food first and then followed on the consumption rates later.
well, whether the decisions made by either the men or the women are always right and wise is a subject we can explore in another forum. These days one has to be careful when making gender statements lest you find yourself being another Kiraitu Murungi who had to apologize to Kenyan women after using a weird analogy about women sexuality to refer to an action made by donors. I will not repeat the statement here.
Right now I want to talk about basic decision making and what effect it can have on a normal man like me who is writing this article in the house waiting for someone special to come. In other words I am in the house in the name of paternity leave but the person who made me take this leave has refused to come. The baby is still contemplating; perhaps wondering the Kalonzo Musyoka way, " Nitoke, ama ningoje? Naweza kutoka leo, aaa lakini inakaa kuna baridi sana. Pengine nitoke kesho" If the baby was in a position to read the external environment, perhaps I would be blaming the delay on the fact that the baby has heard us talk of Alshabbab and the free fall of the Kenya shilling and you know those are two good reasons enough to postpone a major decision.

Yesterday a colleague scared me when she told me to pray that the baby does not come out suckling the finger, " it has happened before and it can happen again", she said. " You know when the baby is fully grown, he might start living the external life in an internal environment and start doing those things allowed only out here, like helping himself/herself". And while she continued, I was deeply in thought and along the conversation I said. " but why would a baby want to continue staying in there yet there is hardly enough space right now?" and the reply was home, " If he is a boy, we understand; men take long to decide." That was enough and I left to continue waiting for the baby. I will be able to confirm whether that statement will see the light of day. Of course at this juncture I will not hastily conclude that the baby has delayed because he must be a boy. I am a statistician and I can tell you that such a claim must be supported accordingly. This is when we start talking of samples. How many babies were interviewed or observed, how many boys came out on the due date versus girls. So this discussion will be continued when such statistics are available.

For now I am praying God for patience. This is the time I want to hear words like the appointed time and not the expected time. I want someone to remind me that God works with opportune timing and not chronological timing. I need the assurance that this is just a technical delay, perhaps even a miscalculation and it has no consequences whatsoever. And the best talk of course would be the one about the fact that I’m just being too anxious and I am easily forgiven since it is my first experience. In future someone tell me to sober up. And of course the perfect scapegoat, that this is just a dream and when I wake up I will realize that the due date had not come. Shall we say some dreams are long but they are just dreams?

Well, I must say I am excited at the fact that I will be a Dad in a short while and that nature is now revenging and letting me be called what I have called Mr. Kahuria for almost thirty years. You know you are fully grown when such things happen and when things that seemed unfathomable are now your portion. This is a complete metamorphosis and I must say it’s worth the waiting. So for now just know that I am waiting and I will continue waiting. I can almost hear the baby saying it the Kibaki way, "hamtangoja saaana! Haaapaana! Ni kidogo tu!" Watch this space.