I didn’t even want to post this but the renegade in me, this stubborn quest to know all about everything could not let me rest. The question of my origin is still not answered and so shouldn’t I keep asking?
The origin of man has remained one of the most controversial topics that humans interact with. The more you try to understand it the more confusing it becomes. This is not my problem though, my faith has given me a sign and I know that God created the world and everything in it and his presence is evident in everything he created. That said all the accounts of creation do not explain why we have different colors. I know that we owe our origin to Adam and by extension to Eve, and Adam was created out of dust (we are not told whether it was loam, clay or a collabo of both).
I am not very good at reading the bible but I have studied the bible long enough to have met a verse that spoke of color of man- why we have different colors. I also know that the Israelites who were God’s chosen people were grouped in twelve tribes, we are again not told whether some of the tribesmen were molded out of clay or loam.
The evolution theory of creation is one of the creation theories that I will never approve of. For one if man originated from apes, why do we still have apes, why haven’t they evolved to human beings? The pioneer of the creation theory; Charles Darwin did nothing to explain why we have different colors and so the question of loam or clay is still not addressed. What is funny is that some people who if all of us were made from soil then they were made from clay do not want to be clay products- they want to be of loam. I don’t think they are to blame when history knows that ‘claymen’ had been useful all for the wrong reasons. They were traded like kolanuts as slaves, they were the first to be suspected of crime in the USA (I hope this has changed) and their continent is considered the Dark Continent. Who would love to be associated with that? Ironically, the loam products once left their continent and fought for the Dark Continent against themselves. Which is better loam or clay? My guess is they are all equal or at least they should be. If anybody understands this issue better than I do please enlighten me.
It’s been long since I saw a woman worth putting pens to paper for, a woman worth every stain the pen leaves on a paper as it glides on it in the name of ink. I am talking beauty. Not beauty potentiated by unnecessary meat exposed and lips stained with cheap lipstick. Not beauty achieved by doctored boobs and hips pumped with myriad injections of silicon. Neither Am I talking of beauty sandwiched between multiple clothing of behind nor beauty trapped on ears burdened with heavy metals in the name of jewelry. I am talking raw beauty.
I had just come from a meeting, no a debate that was successful despite disappointing absence of the expected attendees. The dusty road had got the better of me as I had to trek from Kariobangi to roundabout to catch a mathree to my hood. In my hoodie and timberland avunjas the dusty road was the least of my worries. But still that wasn’t what I thought of as cool, the dusty road was not appealing but the constant harassment by the touts who operate Makadara bound matatus was worse. These people have no respect; they are goons to be exact. They are very touchy. They will not only touch you but will literally pull you away in a bid to convince you to board their vehicle. It wasn’t funny seeing a woman old enough to be my grandmother almost getting ripped apart by these nincompoops. They treat people like items of trade; some avocado on a groceries shop and all may get out of hand if the ‘item of trade’ is a young woman laced with ounces of beauty. They love everything sumptuous. such a woman will have to put up with two things, the uncalled for body pressing in the most treasured parts and the sickening sight of chocolate ads in the name of teeth, how they smell mfff! I wonder why they always bring their mouths closer to your nose in conversations.
After few confrontations by the touts I manage to free myself but they are philanthropic enough to lend me mouthfuls of insults as my entourage. The trails of insults kept following me as if they sensed I had insult receptors at my kisogo that they could attach themselves on. At some instant I felt my stomach churn in rage and I was tempted to turn back and glue their lips with one ushi mawash. It’s been long since I did practical martial art lessons. I plan to die with all of me in one piece, having myself castrated in Kamiti maximum prison for killing a mannerless tout is a thought that should never materialize. It would even be worse to be hanged for the same. I want to die of obesity someday. I said obesity and nothing slim. Not even malaria should come between me and that dream. Nyaka atho ka achwe githuon. Donge?
The 15 minute walk left me exhausted but I was just in time to catch a D bound mathree. I got in and secured a seat closer to the window. Just then a woman got in. what a creature! She had it all, a beauty that could not be hidden even by the thick dust that laced her feet. What would such a beautiful lady be doing in rounda? Her eyes were floating on melted vanilla flavored ice cream and for once I thought if she ever cried, her tears would be wild honey. Some people sit and sleep on gold and still mine it in other people’s minefields for meager pay. I bet she can live on her tears alone. I do not know much about fashion but I would tell you that her full dress fitted her perfectly. She was divine. Yes so divine and the calmness that ensued in the matatu after her entry was the silent whispers of her serenity. Wait a minute does she want to sit next to me? Yeah your guess was right!
For the first two minutes I kept silent wondering if I was too brief with my answer when she said hi to me. And the hand why did I let go of it so quick? Such are the hands that every normal man would wish to hold on long enough to emit sweat. Yes sticky sweat of seduction. But I did otherwise something wasn’t just right. I turn to face her only to find her holding a bible, reading something in the book of Ecclesiastes. such a beauty in a matatu reading a bible- the book of Ecclesiastes to be precise is not my definition of mere passenger, Maybe an angel hiding in the beauty of porcelain skin and contrasting dusty feet. Somebody teach me how you tell an angel ‘your beautiful’ without making it sound like a cliché that it has already become to her. Maybe I will find the strength to tell her that next time we meet. She better be reading the Songs of Solomon then, I wouldn’t hesitate to make her my Song. Yeah you heard me right my Song at all costs.
As the winds pass through the whistling Cyprus trees, My heart warms at the mention of your name, As a Dog loyal to its master I bet I’ll be true to my feelings, As the heat of the scorching sun gets stronger by the day, so do my love matures. But wait a minute will you take my hand? Will you stay when fate conspires with the universe to make life even more unbearable? Will you ever say ‘I DO’?
Every person needs good nutrition to have a good health. Other basic needs that are always given much attention are shelter and clothing but the need for a fulfilling relationship between partners in love can never be underestimated. Every lady needs a caring and loving man for a husband and to be frank such men are not yet endangered species, if you need a caring and loving man I guess you won’t have to look anymore, they are plenty who knows? Maybe your next door neighbor is that type. The problem has always been finding a trustworthy partner. Those who will be able to resist the temptation of drawing water from strange wells and stick to the springs in their own Gardens of Eden even if the water is salty.
The search for such a partner may take long if at least you are lucky to find one. Really, why do people cheat in relationships? Several factors contribute to the evil habit of cheating in relationships. To begin with, it is good for both partners to know that it takes the two of them to make a relationship work. In case one partner has sacrificed much to a relationship and the other is not willing to reciprocate, he/she will find it necessary to look for someone who will be willing to devote more time and energy to a relationship. Poor communication between spouses also create suspicion that he /she has divided attention and therefore may begin cheating when such slight opportunities knock their doors in pursuit of revenge.
My keyboard is an epitome of aridity. With all the consonants I still can’t make up words right enough to describe what I have in mind. And my mind is still not able to fully perceive what the maker of this lovely planet unfolded before my eyes today. How am I going tell this story? Simple, I am going to close my eyes and scribble anything related to this event on a page in any language that my tongue can roll to. That said. Where do I begin?
Africa U Night, the event that had trended (maybe is still trending) on twitter since the week began was finally here. Mavuno church was the destination and if you had never set a foot there like me there was an option-you could miss lunch and begin your search for the venue much earlier lest you miss some of the performances. To be honest, events will come and go but Africa U Night will still remain as a reminiscence of what good poetry is all about. For the first time I saw poetry escape the lips of the talented poets, hover in the room and finally encaving us in some sort of a dome filled with euphoria and bitterness. The event presented by the ARTEAST HUB had much more than just poetry. I tell you the poets deserved the tittle not as common these days when anybody who can create simple rhymes like Embrace and Empress call themselves poets. They had content and nobody had to be told to listen- the words themselves were powerful enough to arrest the attention of the audience and journey with them in that poetic adventure. There was also music. I still can’t compare the vocals of PHY to any other artist. She is the Kenyan Version of Emeli Sande.
Fast forward, the first performer was Le chatelier and it seemed the price of disappointing the audience was too high for him to afford. His comprehension of the Queens language was exemplary. His piece was short and very informative. The MC Poeta equaled the task shooting his sick punch lines in the name of Kujichocha. You just had to pendaa his stuff.
Vanessa Ombura took the stage and froze the audience to a pin drop silence. The words strictly lined with the theme left the audience screaming at the end of the performance. Poeta had to beg the audience to stop screaming such crazy chants like Thitima! Thitima! And allow the next poet to take stage.
L7 Empire is a cohort of Murderers-they killed it
Comprising of four artists: Virusi Mbaya, Cilabies Mgonjwa, Muarab and chief Kaddif, L7 Empire is taking Kenya by storm. Their lyrical prowess is out of this planet added to their sound content and mastery of their pieces-you get a free ticket to wonderland and they are not bragging about it!
They performed two pieces mheshimiwa usinigei doo that spoke of all the ills that we Kenyans are subjected to by the so called waheshimiwa. The other piece: bila madeni mafan wanatudai that spoke of the contributions of artists in fighting the societal ills. L7 empire will continue to rule because of one thing, they speak of the problems we encounter everyday not only in Kenya but in Africa. Their choice of words is excellent they use words so weighty!
The only prince in the ghetto, Ronny proved he is no longer a poet but a prophet. He prophesied that soon Obesity will also be a disease in Turkana. He also echoed the cries of the real Kenyan heroes felled by political bullets: TJ Mboya, Pio pinto, Robert Ouko and JM Kariuki. He prophesied that soon the hunger of these fallen heroes will be over as they will be served justice. Where do people get such creativity? Maybe only prophets like Ronny Prince are able to create such powerful words out of carcass of fallen heroes.
Shanky Abbs and Shikz proved they are not merely pretty but are pretty creative. Forget about the serenity in their dressing that depicted true African women. Their performances took us to a soul hunting mode. You only realize you didn’t carry your hunkies after such a performance. Tears rained and reigned.
The event was one of its like, an event worth every cent and second spent. Even after spending part of my time reporting about this event I still believe I should apologize to all the artists who performed everybody who attended this event and the Arteast Hub for failing to find the appropriate words to tell all about this event. In short the artists frankly lit the room with words. Set it ablaze.
Finally today being siku ya mashujaa I celebrate the following poets as my heroes:
L7 Empire Crew, Shanky Abbz, Ronny Prince, Le Chatelier, Vanessa, Poeta, Femi, Shikz, Vince, Murathe, Kennet B and many more. I celebrate you as my heroes because you have been the light of this society, always rebuking the wrongdoings of our leaders without fear while embracing the efforts made by fellow citizens to rebrand Kenya. May you live long to inspire the next generations.
How do I begin writing about this? The cursor is still blinking and I remember I am not always very good at retelling historical stories as much as I am with creative writing but the thought of how many times we have been lied to hurts me much and it overweighs my inability to tell historical facts and I am here scavenging for the words right enough to communicate my thoughts.
Having to live in Kenya, a country where what you hear is the exact opposite of the reality can be the most disgusting experience this planet earth could serve you. I was born in this country and unfortunately I have never lived outside this place so I may not know how it feels like to be living in any other country. This is a country that was once (and maybe) still is every tourist dream destination. We have all that a tourist would need: the rich culture, the game, the beautiful natural sceneries, good climate and many more. What else would a tourist ask for?
However, this country has been brought down to ruins by the very people who claimed they loved this country. To me I do not trust everything I hear coming out of the lips of these leaders who are blinded by greed. I refuse to be blinded by the sugar coated shit they speak on political platforms to convince us that we are doing well or at least they have good plans for this country. Unfortunately majority of the Kenyan citizens have refused or are not able to read between the lines and unravel the mystery of their real intentions-their wicked intentions. Unfortunately they have successfully divided us along tribal lines and so we are busy fighting ourselves while they marvel and reap hugely from our ignorance but this might just be a story for another day. Back to the topic.
Who are the real Kenyan heroes?
Tell me any other name but do not tell me that Jomo Kenyatta is a Kenyan hero. Tell that to any other fool blinded by tribal politics but not me. For one, how can you call someone who used other freedom fighters to help him end colonialism and thereafter establish a political dynasty based on tyranny a hero? A political era characterized by political assassinations. I can say authoritatively that most of the people we celebrate as Kenyan heroes were the real enemies of Kenya. People allergic to any form of progress. Why did the Jomo Kenyatta government have to KILL the people who were fighting for liberation and economic progress? Here are the real Kenyan heroes- you may add whomever you think should be in the list.
Kariuki was a true patriot who fought for equality of all the tribes in Kenya. Kariuki was worried of the widening gap between the poor and the rich and dedicated his life to fight for economic independence, a fight that was not welcomed by the Jomo Kenyatta government that had led in improper distribution of lands in Kenya. Kenyatta himself being the biggest beneficiary of these land related injustices after grabbing all the white highlands and other lands that belonged to MAU MAU fighters. He used lands to reward those loyal to his government.
Kariuki was the only KIKUYU who set foot at Rusinga Island to attend the burial of TJ Mboya at a time when the gap between the Luo and Kikuyu’s was widening.
Kariuki was assassinated and his body thrown in a forest. His eyes were gouged and his hands chopped off by the regime that purported to have the interest of Kenya at heart.
His famous Quotes
“Political independence without economic independence is like having a wedding without a bride.”
“In Kenya today, I can only see the dawn of a June morning rising majestically from the white oblivion into the serenity of life.”
“If we forget these people (the youth), we will find ourselves surrounded by rogues who are rogues not because they want to become rogues but because they are hungry and this leads them into temptation.”
“It is this greed that will put this country into chaos. Let me state here that this greedy attitude among the leaders is going to ruin this country.”
“Kenya has become a nation of 10 millionaires and 10 million beggars.”
“Every Kenyan man, woman and child is entitled to a decent and just living. That is a birthright. It is not a privilege. He is entitled as far as is humanly possible to equal educational, job and health opportunities irrespective of his parentage, race or creed or his area of origin in this land. If that is so, deliberate efforts should be made to eliminate all obstacles that today stand in the way of this just goal. That is the primary task of the machinery called Government: our Government.”
“We fought for independence with sweat, blood and our lives. Many of us suffered for inordinate days – directly and indirectly. Many of us are orphans, widows and children as a result of the struggle. We must ask: What did we suffer for, and were we justified in that suffering?”
If there is anybody AMERICA should be grateful to the he is TJ MBOYA. He changed the history of America. Were it not for TJ MBOYA could we be speaking of OBAMA?
He organized airlifts that took bright Kenyan students to study in the United States and that is how Obama Senior got his way to the US giving rise to the Current American President.
His selflessness was evidently displayed when he let his chances of being the next president (as Kenyatta was grooming him) go as he chose to rebuke the leaders who were enriching themselves at the expense of Kenyans. He was also felled by the Kenyatta govt. And Kenyatta did not even attend his funeral. I think he deserved a national burial.
This was also another prominent leader whose eloquence saw him speak on behalf of the president in many international forums. At one time he was mistaken as the Kenyan president. He served in the government of Kenya from the colonial period through the presidencies of Jomo Kenyatta and Daniel arap Moi. He was a member of the National Assembly for Kisumu and a cabinet minister, rising to the post of Minister of Foreign Affairs and International Cooperation by 1990. He was murdered in Kenya on 13 February 1990. His body was found by a herd’s boy at the hills of Got Alila. Forensic evidence suggested Ouko had been murdered, near to where his body was found, killed by a single shot to the head, his right leg broken in two places and his body left partially burned. His murder is still unresolved. This is what they did to true lovers of Kenya.
Another Kenyan Hero felled by political bullet
Pio Gama Pinto
In conclusion, if opposing the injustices of the reigning government makes you a renegade, a public enemy that deserves nothing less than death then we need to redefine what it really means to be a hero. And if I have to support a corrupt government led by those who think with their stomachs instead of brains, those who grab lands that rightfully belongs to Kenyans and marvel at their own riches while killing those who are fighting for equality is your definition of patriotism then count me out. I never want to be a patriot.