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.

Crime

He always seem successful
And our laws always unhelpful
For though our nation be wonderful
With its people so beautiful
Some deeds herein are dreadful
And makes our state awful

Like a deer we stay in fear
For we know not what we’ll hear
As danger seem always near
That to us is really clear
Someone must help us here

Like a deer that always will pray
That it won’t soon be prey
To the enemy which will its life slay
That too also we pray
For our life seem to be on a tray
A tray made of clay

Our problem now turn mental
Yea, we can no longer settle
And in our mind sounds an echo
For we lament the making of metal
And wish all people were gentle
And learn that life is brittle

Yet our law will always fail
To take the criminal to jail
So that the crime it will nail
That’s why the nation will wail
And has no pretty a tale.

The Crackdown

At Sondu High School, the school nurse was growing fatigued and bored. For the last three weeks, she had had to endure the awful smell from the pathetically wounded feet of the students. She had had no time to rest as student after student streamed in at least for some bit of her medical attention.

On the waiting bench outside, the looks on the faces of those boys told the story. Needless to say, they were going through a tough time. The boys had tried their best to be men enough but for how long would that be? The tears would flow down their faces in a drop-wise manner reminding you of those droppers in the laboratories. Their feet looked as though they had been soaked in some acidic medium overnight.

It was during the El-Nino rains of 1997 and flooding was the hue and consistency of virtually every part of the nation and the schools were not exceptions. As a result the shoes of students could not last long and most of them had succumbed to the tearing El-Nino forces faster than to the normal wear and tear. Few students at this time had their shoes in good wearing condition. Most of the shoes had spaces to welcome waters falling from above and also entertained waters that came through the backdoor; that is the waters that came through a condition that I call the Shoe Leaking syndrome.

And the feet of most of the students were in a terrible state especially because in a school they were meant to be in shoes for the better part of their life. Yet this did not matter to the school nurse now. She needed some space. Some fresh air. She needed some time to sit and think of herself and carry on her life as she desired. So she was gathering her courage to go to the principal’s office to demand some reinforcement.
After thinking it over and over, she decided to take the courage since this seemed to her the most decisive act any human being in her shoes would take. She did not even remember that in an office of that status, knocking precedes entry. And even before Mr. Githinji the principal could protest at her most intrusive, most unexpected entry, she was already up in arms.
“Mr. Principal, I came to tell you that things are getting out of hand and….!”
“And what? Getting out of hand to where? Why don’t you just hold them tight in hand?” the principal interrupted trying the humor he has always employed in crisis management. But this time his sense of humor was out of place and unwanted. Before him stood an iron lady who had had enough.
And the nurse went on, “and I will not continue slaving in the hands of people who do not seem to put themselves in my shoes!”
“And what is it about Miss Kimani? Come on take it easy.” The principal now cooled down and asked with a look of concern on his face. So the nurse carried on, “ Mr. Principal, are you aware that soon all the boys in this school will be under medication?” the nurse was now looking at the principal cautiously with a half smile and half worry on her pretty face.
“ Reason being?” asked the Principal, moving round his seat and holding his spectacles as if to say that such things do not happen; not when Mr. Githinji is in control. And the nurse continued, “well, Mr. Githinji Sir, over the last three weeks I have treated two hundred cases of athletes feet which is a pretty third of the school.”
And the principal interrupted, now standing and placing his huge spectacles on the table and dipping his hands in the pockets of his brown checked blazer, “You mean two hundred boys treated once? And not twenty boys treated ten times ?”
Correct Mr. Principal” answered the nurse.
“And you still have enough medicine in that dispensary?” the principal was now actually concerned that soon the school dispensary would need some funding, the last thing he would have thought about.
“Well, Mr. Principal we are soon running out of medicine. But that’s not the point!” the nurse replied as the principal supported his head with his hands as though it was about to run off. And the nurse continued gathering all the necessary courage enough to thrust her next statement, “if your office does not do something to save this situation, I will resign! I need reinforcement!”
So now the nurse stood there watching the principal who was inhaling the words and trying to make some sense therein. He was known to respond as soon as there was something worthy of response. The nurse was in her white clinical garments and when the principal looked at her and saw her cute hairstyle, her pretty face and those lips painted pink coupled with her perfect body conformation. When he imagined how nice she looks walking on those school pavements. When he contemplated how the boys would respond at the loss of such a beautiful and compassionate nurse. It was time to be smart. In other words the nurse was an asset the school could not afford to lose. Not under the circumstances.
So the principal composed himself and faced the nurse, “Well Miss Kimani. I see what you are going through. I am sorry for that. If I had heard of it before I would definitely have done something. But please, I beg you to continue working as I look at the situation.”
“And then?” the nurse asked showing some measure of doubt in the way the principal was handling the situation. The principal replied, “I will get back to you as soon as possible”. So the nurse returned to the dispensary to attend to the students.
The principal thought hard. Eventually he had to act. He did not even see the need to respect the school program any more. Or what sense was there to continue teaching boys who were in pain? He called an urgent staff meeting. The teachers wondered what the meeting was about and why the meeting had no notice as should be the case. May be our employer has an important circular. They thought.
The principal started the meeting without a greeting, without a prayer or even a word of introduction.
“We cannot continue teaching when the boys are suffering. Are you aware that athletes’ feet are affecting almost every student in this school?”
The Deputy Principal Mr. Wanjau was the first to answer. “So, Mr. Principal. Ok. We get the point. But I hope you are not suggesting that we close down the school.”
“What do you suggest yourself?” asked the principal, looking restless and desperate. He needed a solution yesterday. And then Mr. Wanjau continued calmly, “I hope you are aware that El-Nino is in the whole country including their homes and there is no way they will run away from it.”
There was a heated discussion as the teachers sought a solution. And one teacher who observed as her colleagues argued thought she had a solution that would work. So she raised her hand.
Well Mrs. Kiogora, so you think you have something to tell us? Go ahead. We are listening.” The principal said. And the room was quiet to hear from this lady who talked only when she had to.
“My dear colleagues, I realize that this menace has not affected all the boys. It has not hit any teacher yet…” Go on! They said.
“I think this has to do with the shoes those boys put on. They are terrible. Actually some of those are not shoes but examples of shoes if not illusions of shoes.”
Now the teachers were getting some hope of getting a solution to the situation at the feet of the boys.
And the Deputy Principal said, “We have to stop the boys from wearing worn out shoes as much as possible.”
“And tell them to put on what?” another teacher asked.
“Don’t you think their feet are safer shoeless than with those examples of shoes?” asked Mr. Wanjau.
So the teachers continued to debate the issue and after a lengthy debate, Mr. Kamanja the discipline master called for order. “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen; I have a solution.”
“We are listening!” said the principal looking so keen his head would crack.
“We shall have a crackdown.” Said Mr. Kamanja smiling and swinging his body sideways.
“A crackdown on what?”, sounded the chorus.
“On unfootworthy shoes.” Mr. Kamanja answered.
“And then?” went on the chorus. Things were getting exciting here.
“ And then confiscate all the unfootworthy shoes and send the culprits home for better shoes so that …..” the principal interrupted, “ That’s okay Mr. Kamanja. It’s alright. But what criteria shall we use to determine an unfootworthy shoe?”
“That’s very simple Principal.” one of the teachers, a Mrs. Waweru replied.
“How simple?” asked the Principal, “Explain further.”
And Mrs Weru stood to illustrate, “well. Any shoe that has an open edge that makes it look like a Tilapia fish is unfootworthy.”
“Aha!” sounded the chorus and Mrs. Weru continued, “And any shoe that has a crack or a hole anywhere on the sole”.
“Go on!” sounded the chorus.
“And any shoe that has an opening on top save the place to insert the foot and the holes for the laces is also unfootworthy for this purpose.”
Finally the criterion was determined and as the teachers left for the meeting, the students were called for an assembly that was meant to be ‘The Crackdown’. And the following day half of the boys were sent home not to collect school fees balance. But to come with new shoes that met the prescribed standard.
Of course this conformed to the characteristic manner in which we guys here handle crisis. We never conceive or comprehend crisis. That is negative thinking and utter pessimism. We hope for the best; or why should someone hope for the worst? And when the worst does happen, we say it is unfortunate, it is not our making. We say we are not rainmakers or even responsible for the forces that shake the universe. We call ourselves unfortunate and wonder why others are blaming us for what we did not cause. SO crackdowns are common here. We see them on the roads, and on the streets. I hope one day we will get ourselves out of this style.

The Smart Enemy

I have known a smart enemy
Who accompanies people on a ferry
So behaves like an ally
And interrupts not their merry
Enemies like he are not many
So he makes a unique story
Sweeter like one from granny

He puts their life in danger
But on his face there is no anger
That’s why they keep him longer
For they know not there is a stranger
And with him is loaded danger

So they carry on their fun
Splinters of love they fan
And do what virtues will ban
And when the task is done
Sign of danger there is none

When they know they must yield
They hear there is a shield
And they carry it to the field
Know not what the enemy will build
Do they even have him in mind?

And when they feel weak
Or even somehow sick
In them there is not a chink
To let them know they are sick
So their tongue they will just click

But finally they will lie
Yea, even they will die
And so many will sigh
Yet the enemy draws nigh
And his wisdom is high
And if they do not keep an eye
Even then soon they will die.

The enemy is called Aids
Every hour and minute he raids
And though much has been said
And even much money’s been paid
We have always fallen in his cage
All no matter what the age
But now we can turn a new page
And say tis time the enemy we will raid.

My Kitchen

For a long time i have never had any worries about the food i will eat. I have lived with people i have trusted with my stomach and i always knew that at the proper time a table will be laid before me with food in the right quantities(very important), right tastes and so on. I have told my mun many times that she is a wonderful cook and with my siblings we have always been her fans in that respect. The kind of meals that my mums cooks are so charactersitic and unique. My mum can cook even stuff you would never imagine someone cooking. On several occasions you would be surprised to find some rumours of sweet potatoes in some kienyeji collection or a pawpaw in some pumpkin stew. I am forever indebted to my mum for that and especially also for coaching me in this faculty that a man would rather be ignorant about.

I know God loves me so much because after having been brought up by a wonderful cook, i would then have the most adventurous, creative and powerful cook as my wife. I find my sweetheart Hellen a woman of her kind. Have you ever met someone who can convert any cereal, vegetable, grain, fruit etc into the sweetest and most delicious food? With her in my life, my concern has just been to ensure that all these stuff are available and then just relax to watch her industries and activities make it to happen. I mean, its just so incredible. Because of her i have come to know so many edible stuff and so may tastes. And with that kind of person in your life, who needs any other human being to be masqueradinng as your cook. With all due respect and without loss of generality, i say i am just too blessed and i have the best lady to take care of me.

But here comes the other side of the story. Of course, somehow, somewhat, I have had to accept that food in my house can be prepared by someone whose skills i did not vet and who i may not question. I mean, many times i wonder why the same fire, the same sufurias, the same cuttlery i have always had in my house would prepare food that i do not want to look at. when they talk of unity in diversity, they must have been thinking from where i am now. I now know that there are different ways of cooking but the same food is cooked. I now know that even ugali that only needs flour and water and fire to prepare can taste so different until you are tempted to read the ingredients on the packet.

Yesterday i was chatting with my sweetheart about this. It was after dinner and we were analyzing some of the changes that we have been going through since we got our househelp. She is very hardworking and her passion is not a secret. Of course the sad part is that when someone is so passionate about what they do but they are doing it contrary to your expectation, you are in for rude shocks. Or how else would you describe this situation? We come with two kilograms of meat, sukumawiki, terere and spinach enough for a whole week. I remember hearing my sweetheart give very clear instructions on what should be done. Very simple instructions like, "slice the meat in small cubes and pack it in aout four plastic bags before putting in the fridge. Wash the vegetables first and then cut it and pack it before putting in the fridge."

The instructions were clear. But there must have been some revelation from God knows where. Within to time, our kitchen was like a factory. And i was shocked when i smelt boiling meat, boiling terere. And someone passionately and vigilantly working as though to beat a deadline. It was not pleasing at all and we had no words to express the disapointment. I only remember jokingly saying, "Babie next time when you give instructions, let there be a declaration to be signed with all those instructions and let the closing line be, I declare that i have read the istructions herein and i fully understand what i am expected to do".

I know this is a hard time for me and i have to endure what i used to enjoy. At least i'm excited as i wait for the coming of our baby. I know God will grant me the patience to take the kitchen products and still sing, " Don't worry, be happy."

Wangari Mathai

I know i have not interacted closely with Professor Wangari Mathai to be the best person to write about her. Of course i boast that we are both alumni of the University Of Nairobi. She also comes from my neigbouring district.When i was a first year at the University of Nairobi, i attended a lecture that she was giving at University of Nairobi, Taifa Hall. Taifa Hall will tell you that it has been a place for perhaps some of the best refined speeches from the true heroes and heroines of Kenya.

Listening to Professor Mathai was a moment well spent. She represented the good values we must fight to keep. She was proud of her ascent and it never bothered her and she was truly Kenyan. She believed in simplicity since she knew it is only when you forget yourself that you can impact the world.

Wangari Maathai was infected for life with the passion that drives men and women to do things that do not make sense to the short sighted. She suffered from the charisma that tears the hearts of stone. She battled with the courage that scares the simple hearted. She spoke with the conviction that turns the hearts of generations. She walked in the strength that knows no defeat and lived on the faith that moves mountains.

Many thought that Wangari's struggle was just about the environment. But hers was far beyond what an ordinary mind can conceive. Wangari fought for the dignity of life, equality and justice. She fought for a better world for all. She suffered for the joy and abundance of generations present and generations to come.

If you asked her what would stop her from the pursuit of peace, a better future and the many ideals she stood for, i'm sure she would tell you that nothing would. Not teargas and blows, not insults and threats, not sickness and infirmity. Not gender or status or tribe. Yeah, not even death because her legacy is very alive even after she is gone.

I once heard a preacher say, " When we came in this world, the first thing we did was cry. And we must live such a life of impact that when we die, the world will cry." That is just what Wangari did. She leaves a world that feels at loss. She leaves a nation that wonders why it has to lose only its best. She leaves a generation that needed a champion. She leaves shoes that few would want to wear.

Whenever Wangari opened her mouth, we all wanted to hear. I remember one time when Students of Egerton University went on strike to protest against the destruction of Mau Forest. They did it the normal way univerity students do. Some of them stoned cars, robbed citizens and engaged police in running battles. And Professor Wangari Mathai had a food for thought. And she said, " I wish our young men were more candid when protesting. If i were them, i would go to Mau Forest holding a tree on one hand and a stone on the other hand. Then i would throw the stone to the person who tries to stop me from planting my tree."

I know we all have much to say about our very own Wangari Mathai. May her soul rest in eternal peace and may her legacy be the next outbreak to be seen in Kenya.

Town Food

With time i am beginning to realize why my Dad is always reluctant of eating food outside home. For all the time i have known him, my dad has always avoided eating outside home, sleeping outside home even when he is required to be in a conference. We used to laugh about it but at the same time feel proud of a husband and father who took family as priority. At least he set a good example. Perhaps i am following after his footsteps. But for the part of eating outside home i have failed terribly. I can excuse myself and say the set up has changed tremendously and the only way i will eat food cooked at home during the day is either i carry packed lunch or go to the house over lunch hour. I guess the manly ego restrains me from the former and the time constraint restrains me from the latter. So i am only left with the option of fasting which as a matter of fact doesn't happen daily and actually people like me are still a great assignment the Lord has to do to bring to a level where fasting will be a part of normal life. In short, i cannot help eating here and there.

So during the day, i go this way, i go that way. I eat this, i eat that. Of course i grew up in the village so my menu is not diverse. I once went to a Chinese restaurant and no sooner had i sat on the table than i left. This is because when the menu was brought, i did not understand it. I had no clue of any food on that menu and you know they do not bring samples to the table. When i was growing up in the village, i was fed with stereotypes especially on the eating habits of other cultures and the contents of their diets and of course somehow cheated that only my culture knows what real food is and how it should be taken. But modernity is slowly catching up with me and once in a while i do some adventure. I also want to have a sentence to say when i go somewhere and somebody mentions pizza, burger, mayonasse, you see. Of course this is at a risk because some bellies like mine are highly reactive and can protest at any foreign and unfamiliar matter especially if it comes without notice or premeditation.

So on Friday last week i went through what is called driving in modern terms;let the reader understand. I am still trying to trace the root cause of that explosive reaction.It was actually highly explosive and a certain small room in my house can give a testimony. If you want to know the gravity of that matter ask my sweetheart, or my sister and they will tell you that for the better part of the weekend, i abstained from food. I was not fasting. And i could not settle on the seat even while watching a very captivating movie because i was being driven externally by some fierce internal forces that were causing some cyclic imbalances within my system. A saying in my language says, "he who has a running belly seeks the bush". So seeking the crucial room was paramount.

I had to dig to the depth of that matter and try to find out what i should strike out from my menu forever. A careful and detailed analysis takes me to Wednesday lunch when a colleague asked me out for lunch. I work in Westy and you can be sure we went to a place where the menu should have been accompanied by samples and additional notes. And while i was there struggling with the menu, he said, " No need to struggle. Just replicate my choice." And he mentioned something like chips masala, two sausages and egg something. I just smiled at the waiter and said,"likewise, and some passion juice."

As we unleashed our potential, we talked about the ICC proceedings at the Hague, and whether those Kenyans had a case to answer . We wondered why the weather has changed so much to an extent that it would be cold in September. We laughed at some of the happenings that take place in our workplace. And before we could even notice, we had subdued the mountain on the table. So we went back to the office very energized. I cannot say with surety that my stomach was perfect from that time but if if felt something strange, i must have taken it lightly; after all this world is not my home. But on Friday evening, my attention was drawn to some situations within me that would begin to cause some overflows. I suspect whatever i took after Wednesday did not augur well with the foreigners in my belly and some nutritional clashes must have taken place.

I know i still don't have the courage to transport food from my house to the office and daily fasting might take a little longer to materialize. But i will hate to see a repeat of the situation i went through over the weekend. I mean, weekends are meant to be full of life and vitality and moving around for good reasons. I need to either shun new diets or have a plan to gradually introduce myself to these diets. May be start with having a piece of kebab on my githeri, or a drop of mayonasse on my rice and if no reaction takes place then these quantities can be increased progressively. I know there are still so many items i still have no idea of on those menus, like, did they call it Kolobot Chicken or something? I have never been complicated and i would rather there were simpler menus. By the way some of us prefer going to these small restaurants for that very reason; there you can tell what exactly is on the menu and the waiters there don't weng too much when they are explaining the menu.

The Fundi Factor

I have one proposal to make to our beloved government as we look into the instruments of vision 2030. That they create a body that will regulate all fundis since these guys have proved over time that they can never regulate themselves. I am serious on this matter. And if possible let it be done this year and let it be fixed creatively within Michuki's docket.The first step in this should be to legislate a regulatory body that will be tasked to license all Fundis. Within this regulatory body which they can Call 'Fundis Regulatory Commission', there should be sub-departments like Department of Carpentry and Joinery,Department of Tailoring and Clothing, Department of Metal and Hard Stuff, Department of Leather and Leather Products to mention but a few. And then there should be a Complaints and Grievances desk which i'm sure will need quite a good number of staff. That way we will create jobs but more importantly save Kenyans from frustrations and uncalled for wastage of time and money that they have have had to endure in the hands of fundis.Some legal expert can help me how to frame this to make it fit within the context of county governments.

As i say this i register my sympathies to all beloved Kenyans who have had to do their weddings in unfinished attires or have had to buy ready mades on Saturday morning since the fundi has either done a shoddy job or is Mteja at the hour of reckoning. My heartfelt sympathies to all those who have had to get additional support to their bed, or table because they could not stand on their own and the fundi insists its your floor that is uneven. And how can i forget those who have had to wear slippers to work because the fundi disappeared with the only begotten shoe.The Kenyan definition of a fundi is someone who by their very nature forgets to use a tool at the right time and when they must use it, they have to use it wrongly. Someone must come to our aid.

I have had my own pretty measure of woes in the hands of fundis and i know i have swore many times never to ever get anywhere near a fundi except it be on family or religious grounds. I don't know how i always find myself occasionally looking for them. Its like the things i do not want to do are the things i find myself doing. This morning i got to work late after i had agreed with a fundi who was making some stuff for me that it will be ready at 7:30 a.m. and that i would just clear the balance and have it delivered to my house. That was after he failed to meet his Saturday last week deadline and an extended deadline of Monday evening. I had to extend the deadline to today evening and i hope this is the last time i'm doing this. I am not happy. Of course the justification of a fundi is far beyond question. He will tell you how he does not want to hurry and do a shoddy job; which is good enough. He will tell you how he wishes you were seeing things from his view and how letting a customer down has never been and will never be his portion. Actually when you are called customer, you are defeated by that love. I have never known why the name customer always finishes many people and makes them stop complaining. I mean, its like when you come home angry and you are called sweetheart. In many instances you are melted down. Of course it depends on how low your melting point is because many of us are more prone to boiling than to melting.

SO i have found many Kenyans boiling in the presence of Fundis. I once went to pick a suit that was being made for me by a Fundi in the City Centre, which became my last suit to be made locally, not because i do not want to promote local industries but because i do not want to lose my head in the process. So when i was there giving a piece of my mind to the fundi,a couple came to check their wedding attire for a wedding which was two days to come. I tell you it was fire. The clothes were not done and the bride was getting hysterical and the man had to prove he can handle situations like that even as he goes to marriage. The fundi would have been beaten properly if it were not for our intervention. Of course we were equally frustrated, only that we did not want another kind of post election violence.

So i hope this afternoon my piece of furniture will be done. I do not want to appear in the headlines for the wrong reasons. I am getting agitated and my beloved Kenyans, let me tell you i can boil and i boil violently. Somebody keep an eye on me and hold me fast if you do not see my hands in the pocket. I hope i will sleep counting my accomplishments and not my frustrations. Oh my, i hope this day is good. Someone tell that Fundi i don't tolerate any nonsense. I wish you all a lovely time and may God save us from the fundi agony that has caused so many tears and so many ulcers. Tunaomba serikali.

My Weekend Is Mine

I have been asking myself what's the purpose of a weekend. It is said that in an office, the bosses report to work on Monday morning very strong and lively and with the energy to push everyone around. Of course i am talking of an ideal African office where thou must turn 45 to be called the boss.This is because most people at this age view the weekend as a time to relax and rest to prepare for another week. The young employees are the exact opposite of their bosses. As for them, the weekend is the ideal time to meet friends, drive far and wide, go partying, explore every dimension of the other side of life. These they will do until there is no more time and they are sad that the weekend is ever too short. So waking up on Monday to them is like an act of God, its a disaster, it is uncalled for.

That is why the office line is ever busy on Monday morning; because staff are calling to say why they will be late for work that morning. And you will hear very well crafted stories which you cannot help believe unless you are so inhuman. Of course most of them are more of fiction than reality.Stories like," I'm sorry boss. we have hardly slept last night because our child had a bad fever. In fact as i speak we are in hospital and we are so afraid he looks so sick. And the queue is just too long." In other words, the boss should not expect that employee before midday. Or you will hear something like, "Boss, we traveled upcountry over the weekend to bury a relative and on our way back to town, our vehicle broke down and we actually spent the Sunday night in the cold. Its now that we are finding our way to town." In short Monday morning is the time for narratives and if you love stories, then just wait for Monday morning.

So the youth have perfected the art of 'killing relatives',' hospitalizing their children', 'breaking down their cars'. The most hilarious one was one of a colleague who came at midday on a Monday morning and when we were all listening he said, "I tell you homes have issues. I have not slept last night because my neighbors fought the whole night." And he seemed so excited narrating the story, the insults, the kicks, the frying pans that had been converted to flying pans. It was a sweet story to hear and all we could do is advice him to consider moving now that he doesn't know how often they will fight therefore how many days he might not report to work.

Well, as for me i believe the weekend doesn't necessarily mean rest,as in literally. Its a break. That's why i do not want to replicate my weekly routine to weekend. And whenever i am tempted, i remind myself of a story i once read of a rich businessman who received sad news on a Friday evening when he was playing golf. He was told that one of his stalls had burned to the ground and all he said was, " wow! What a surprise i will get when i report to work on Monday morning." That is why when i saw the call from my boss on Friday at 7:30 p.m., i asked myself,"why now? But i was in the office up to 5:00 p.m., ready and willing to listen. But as luck would have it, my phone mouthpiece had gone bananas. That means i had a true story for Monday morning. And when my wife asked me to pick the call i said,"well not now. At least my phone is bad. And even if it was good, i wouldn't want my half hour for my family to go to the same reason that kept me away for eight hours." That is why sometimes i can be a bad boy for good reasons.

Let's get back to the boss. The Boss easily forgets that he was young a few years ago and now that he has settled in many aspects of life, he treats subordinates as though they too are like him/her. Unfortunately, he is dealing with youths who have been running up and down the whole weekend, left so many issues unfinished and needs the entire Monday and part of Tuesday to bring back the body in good working condition and to follow up on several issues. Actually the young employee,begins feeling the week on Wednesday and that's the time they feel energized. At that time the boss is already getting weary after a few quarrels with the young junior staff who he had to push around the entire Monday and Tuesday. Now the boss wants the weekend to come. The young employee is however already placing such a load of work on his desk that gives him headache.Things are now getting interesting. The boss is already weary and longing for the weekend so he can rest. The young staff is so energized and longing for the weekend to do what they do best.

I have no problem how we spend our weekend. My problem is when someone wants to set my weekend agenda because they will not like it. Sometimes the boss has some energy to spare and by the fact that he/she has already settled in life, they think they can spare some time to do office work and they want the young guy to be there to utilize their skills. That's where the actual trouble begins. So these young guys
will refuse to pick the phone from the boss over the weekend. And that according to the boss is being rude and insensitive and will be part of the lecture you receive on Monday morning. That's the time you will be told how you should own the organization and be there for any organization need. And of course you will not say No. But in the heart of the young member of staff will be the following words, " This guy has been there long enough to take care of himself. Now he is done and he wants me to join him to take care of the organization. I say no! It is my time to take care of myself". And when the boss gets so nagging, the young fellow will say, "Well. You are being paid for what you are doing. Pay me and i will join you."

All i am saying is, we all value our weekend. We all long for the weekend. But it is for different reasons and i don't think we need a forum to agree how we live our weekends. And we must ensure that this does not become a matter to quarrel about on Monday morning. Let's set each other free. Please boss, let me be myself during the weekend and i promise you i will stop having stories to narrate on Monday morning.

chriskahuria: Life Must Be Lived.

chriskahuria: Life Must Be Lived.: I have come to the realization that no matter what people tell you, no matter what advise they give or no matter what anticipation you have,...

Souls and Hearts

Philip observed keenly,
And thought carefully
For what he was looking here,
Was something he knew was rare
And the more he looked’
The more he felt to look more.

The scenes kept changing
For he with other brothers and sisters,
Were in a campus mission
In the North Rift region
So he compared different a scenario
To see whether what he saw’
Whether surely fitted him.

The second day he thought
Taws nice to move further
For the observation was good
And whatever so he did,
Twas only he that knew.
So, on he moved.

Excuse me! Eeer, sorry for interruption
My name is Philip I bet
And a third year student I swear
Taking Civil Engineering for sure
And born again for real
And Heaven my destiny I say
And so, your name please.

My name is Sally indeed,
A first year student you see,
Taking Industrial Chemistry really
Up there in Chiromo Campus you see.
And Jesus Christ my lover I say
My shelter, my savior, my rock.

Tis pleasure meeting you Dada,
Thanks be to God but do I say
For twas in His plan you know
That we meet thus and such.
Tis good a decision you made
To love JC and serve Him alone
For your desires shall He grant.

So as the week grew older’
So the missioners they worked
And won souls really to Christ
And Philip and Sally actually
Sat adjacent in all sittings
Jumped for the Lord in a style daily
And real acquaintances they became
And the coordinator couldn’t help noticing’
That when it came to giving duties,
Some pairs were hard to break.

And the mission week was oer’
A great success you see
And back to campus the missioners they went
And inside the bus I say
Were funny seating arrangements
And those who thought
As it was in the beginning
So it is now,
Were told as they sat
Excuse me, but this seat is booked.

And back in campus listen
Important appointments they began
Calls and messages they sent
And Philip was soon learning,
He was not alone in the game
And soon brothers they discovered
They had won souls to Christ
And hearts to themselves.

DOES ANYONE CARE?

Beloved Kenyans have had to tire
And to endure the streets of mire
Now no more comfort atop the tyre
And in the heart it feels like fire
For none will take note of need so dire

Tis now become a great bad pain
And their cry always was vain
As it touches not the affection main
Even while the heavens shower rain
For the common man is just a grain

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

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

Does anyone up there care to hear?
Does one thither hold our plight dear?
And as we count the days of the year
Will we also count increase in fear?
As it seems the solution is not near.

Let Them Say

This morning as i sat on the chair in my barbershop, and let my kinyozi do his job, i followed some of the conversations that were going on amongst the staff in the salon. I was not interested in the conversation as such and i did not take part in it; i only observed. Not because there was nothing i would have said. Just that i observed. Again i do not want to invade people's conversations. If they invite me i will throw in a piece of my mind.

So what's my point? I know there is always the temptation to get carried away in conversations and also get easily influenced by the thoughts and convictions of other people. Especially when you are around people who are assertive or people you respect. Well, its just a natural tendency and many times we even change our minds and our outlook on life after listening to people's conversations. Psychologists believe that even the most reserved person will have influenced 11,000 people before they die. I am a statistician but i do not want to go into the details of this figure. All i can say is that there is some truth in that.

Back to my kinyozi story. Without loss of generality the conversation was about family life and you can be sure some comments came with a lot of emotions, others with a firm finality. Sometimes people talk as though the world is coming to an end and unless you have the art of filtering information you will go with a different mindset and that can affect how you live thereafter. The interesting thing is that a similar conversation in another setting would be totally different and that means when people engage in a conversation, they are not setting rules with their words. As for me i simply see a conversation as a way of people expressing themselves and so whatever is said to me is opinionated and depends on how that person woke up in the morning. So i do not allow myself to be troubled by what people say.

Of course, through conversations you get to know other dimensions of life's issues that you had probably not taken into account. You get to hear what others think and this is important since healthy relationships happen when you get to know what others think and get to understand their feelings.The best lesson in life is learning how to get along with people. Why? Because every single person is a complex of their own and its hard to understand them fully or to agree with them always or to be happy with them always. Every human being have seasons in their lives. There is a time to love and a time to hate, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time for war and a time for peace. And the list is endless.

But the worst situation in life is when i fail to set my own priorities and fail to set the sail of my life so that i am easily swayed by the ideologies of other people and easily fit in their priorities. So when i find myself in a conversation, i like asking myself what's my purpose in the conversation. Sometimes a conversation can sway me. In fact sometimes i can choose,to move in the tempo and hue of a conversation just for fun or in the interest of keeping the conversation a little longer. But i don't think that my perception on life and my priorities should change every time i engage in a conversation. Life is meant to be forward moving and not cyclic. It ought to be well set and with direction. Every life is personal. Its family and society that are corporate and this is where you strike a balance.

My parting shot is that, conversations are good especially where we are in control of what we say, but more importantly when we understand who we are and where we are going. We are not all moving in the same direction and we do not all have the same goals in life so we do not have to necessarily agree on the way forward. I can assure you there are many times i have headaches, but let me say the next time i have a headache, it will not be because i was in a conversation and i'm confused about what direction to take for life. Do have many meaningful conversations and take care.

Life Must Be Lived.

I have come to the realization that no matter what people tell you, no matter what advise they give or no matter what anticipation you have, the best form of learning occurs when you are undergoing your personal experience. And that's the time you learn that life can never be theorized, it can never be pictured; it can only be lived. I am not and have never been a philosopher and i live it at the liberty of the reader of this article to see whether there is any phrase worth noting for future reference, especially preachers and politicians.

Over time, i have come to appreciate my upbringing and i will forever thank God for my parents and remain indebted to them for my life. They gave me the best care, taught me how to love and serve God, took me to school and allowed me to determine what i want to be, they only facilitated. They taught me good mannerisms, they protected me from all harm, from everything including myself. They were a good example in almost every aspect of life.

And now here i am on my own. I never hear my mum waking me up to go to school, or my dad staying there to ensure i read. These days i am an adult and everyone assumes i know what to do. After all they can only advise me but not instruct me or follow me to do what they say. Its a life of my own and all i can do is live it. Of course living it is not as easy as it sounds, that's actually where all the complications begin. Its now when i would actually stand on a podium and say like a Kenyan, " mengi yamesemwa, mengi yameropokwa, mengi yamepayukwa". At the end of the day its my life. And unlike a project that is just a matter of implementing what has already been preplanned and premeditated, to me life is just living. Its not just about putting into practice what we have learnt and observed over time, its about building a personal culture. Actually i say life begins when you discover yourself and are able to identify your niche.

That's why after all the premarital counseling, i do not consult my notes to know how best to live with my wife. I need to first know her and understand her. I am now hitting two years in marriage and its like all what i knew is gradually becoming irrelevant. I now know that it can only be worth when i live the marriage life, not implement advice or theorize it. And when they talk about becoming one, they mean it. Because it has to be one life lived by two people and that means all past knowledge, perceptions, convictions or even discoveries can be of no use, in fact most of the times they are of no use.

I know i have a background, i know i have a personality, i know i pray and seek God. Yeah, i know many things and if you asked me for a lecture, you will need to allocate good enough time. So what? Is life therefore a lesson? i say no. Is it an experiment? Of course not. I need to stop asking hard questions that i will not answer. All i need to do is live life. And how do i live life? aaah, eeeeh, i just need to do what is best for me and those who matter to me. I know my Dad is a great man, but i am my own man. I have read many books, but they were not describing me. I have listened to many people, but they said what they knew and perhaps what applies to them.And when i think about God, the first thing that comes to my mind is creativity and the beginning of my life is where my creativity begins, because i am His image.

I repeat, i am not a philosopher and this what i am writing is not a thesis. It may not be properly formatted. It does not need a theoretical framework. What i am writing is not a recommendation or a way forward. I'm just saying that life must be lived. And as i hit the keys on my keyboard and curve every letter on my notepad, i am just living my life. I do not want to do anything more. I know who i am and where i live and with whom i live and for what reason i live. That tells me what i need to do and it doesn't have to be what you are doing now, or what you did yesterday or what you are likely to do tomorrow. I love my life and i will live my life. God help me.