The staring contest

I just lost a staring contest to my fridge - again. 

It 10 past hungry o'clock and the inhabitants of my alimentary canal are leading a revolt of gargantuan proportions. A chant of 'Feed us feed us , arises from the very depths of my small intestines to the very split ends of the hairs on my slowly balding head. It has been like this for the better part of an hour or two. I've tried calming those inhabitants down with water but I think they've figured it out; and my attempts to drown them have failed. For all my efforts, there's an amazing swish-swashing of water in my gut that,from the sound of it, turn a beluga whale green with envy.

So to quell all this chaos I've trudged to my house in search of a peace offering for the raging beast. It's time for that famous dance. I know there's nothing worthy of the title sustainance in that fridge; it too knows it has nothing worth it's salt in it; but the motion towards it seems to quell the worms in the gut if only for a while.

So I open the door, all the while,hoping for a five loaves and two fish kind of miracle, but lo and behold, it's exactly as it was in the when I last opened it. In the corner sits what should be a tomato or a bell pepper, a slab of mould with bread around it, an empty bottle of juice and copious amounts of energy drinks. 

I close the door and open it again. And again. And again. 

Then the stare down begins.

Buoyed by the rising cacophony in my gut and the desperate need to endit, I hold firm. The fridge, with nothing to lose in this fight, stares right back. I'd say who blinks loses but we all know how that would go. 

It's been a few minutes and by now I believe even the most hardy of gut residents have realised that this is just me buying time. 'FEED US NOW!' Goes the cry. It's no longer a question, or a request. It's a ridiculously loud demand. 

Still the fridge stares, unflinching, unwavering. I slam shut the door. Damn it! Another one lost. 

The pantry spews out some war time provisions - tomato soup and crackers. I'm pretty sure this student life is bad for my general well being, but this is a story for another day. 

The gut vermin are silent for now, but only for now. 

Ten years

Ten years. It's been ten years since that fateful Friday; ten years since that gunman fired that shot; ten years since you were so cruelly taken away from our lives. Yet it still feels like it was just yesterday. There are many reasons to not revisit that night but try as I might, whether consciously or uncociously, I find myself taken back to that night time and time again. I have come to accept that it shall stay with me as long as I breathe.

You must understand though, this world was not ready for you to leave it; our world was not ready for you to leave it; heck I was not at all ready for your exit. I was but a young man slowly beginning to understand the vagaries of legally sanctioned adulthood when this happened. It took me straight from young man to fully fledged grown man in but a flash and bang of an ill directed muzzle. I just wasn't ready.

But you knew all this didn't you? All those subliminal messages you'd been landing in my system all my life; showing me how to shoulder responsibility and taking it in stride; life lessons shared while fixing KWB as it fought to remain relevant to the world; at sports days as we competed against other tag teams; teaching me how to be a man without actually teaching me. I feel you ought to take full responsibility for the man I turned out to be. I only wish I had a chance to thank you personally before you left us. 

The shoes you left are massive to fill. Why just last month I walked Wanjiku down the aisle and when the priest asked me if I had anything to say as we handed her over to her new family, I said no. I could walk in your stead, but I still have to get to the point when I can speak as you would have spoken - but I'm working on it. I know that you check in on us every once in a while; but when you do, double the visits to mum. I know she misses you even more than either I or the girls do. 

I don't think I will ever quite fathom the events of that dark Friday night; nor will the order of those events; nor the occasional cold-sweated nightmares as fueled by those events. But I don't think such events are to be understood. So I will leave it as such. 

It's been ten years; the wound is still as raw as ever but that may change over time. 

Your memory lives strong within us all. 

Till we meet again.

The Insomniac tales: Counting dilemmas

Hickory dickory dock

The mouse ran up the clock

The clock struck four

The movie ran down the clock

Hickory dickory dock 

This silly nursery rhyme has been playing over and over in my mind from the moment that damn mouse run up the clock and it struck one. In this time, I have exhausted all the cold points in the bed and the cold sides of the pillow have run out. 

I have in essence concluded a census of sheep, goats, cows, camels, donkeys, fish and all other sorts of animals that may have wandered aimlessly into Old McDonald's farm. At this rate, I could become a census official but I digress. 

Under normal circumstances, there would be enough mosquitoes to engage me in mortal combat that would last hours. Alas, it seems killing five of their breed and leaving their bodies pasted on the wall has finally paid off and the entire population has relocated. 

In three hours I need to be up and about contributing to the general development of the world but here I am counting my toes again. 

This will be a difficult day at best. 

Serenity

The hour is late and both body  and mind grow weary of labour induced since the sun was seen and the day was but a toddler. It's been one of those days. Nothing stirs the night time save for the occasional creaking as the building stretches in it's slumber.

They said it would snow today and true to their word, the snow is silently going about it's business blanketing the neighbourhood.  From my lofty perch I watch as green becomes white under a flurry of snowflake after snowflake.
There is something hypnotic about watching the snow fall from the heavens above; something magical and I daresay peaceful about it. Something akin to a fresh start; a cover up of our glaring inadequacies as humans; and watching it long enough nothing short of an ode to the wonders of mother nature.

So I sit in silence, contemplation made easier by the serenity provided by mother nature on this night. Unlike must people, the silence does not drive me insane. On the contrary, I find peace and harmony in such rare moments. However for now I will not sit and  think; I will just enjoy mother natures display of a pacifying mechanism and bathe in the serenity she's provided.

Lessons 2012 style

In a moment of possibly champagne inspired genius, I ended the year two thousand and eleven with the buoyant declaration: "Two thousand and twelve , your ass is mine!" In retrospect, this was proclamation over circumstances yet to be encountered. Had I thought it through, it would have been prudent to break the year down to smaller and more manageable segments, but now I do realise that this would have been the height of mediocrity and starting the year on a mediocre note would have set that as the benchmark; and mediocrity is definitely something I abhor being associated with.

Truth be told, two thousand and twelve was a tough year in many respects. Life happened as if it was on a cocktail of performance enhancing steroids and in the occurrence that is the perfect storm, Lady Luck was charmed right on out of my area code. When luck absconds duty, you grit your teeth and get stuck in it; and so it came to pass, teeth were gritted, sweat wiped off brows and Father Time kept that ticker going. Lesson 1: When the going gets tough, the tough get going or they get gone!

The 'summer' was a blur and with it came the celebration of world sport that is the Olympics. Those came and went and we did as well as a cow in the Kentucky Derby - we here is the collective term I use to represent all patriots-to-death like me. That lacklustre performance by our usually spot on lads and lasses put a significant  damper on the remainder of the summer. On the flip side however, new friendships were forged and old ones rekindled quite avidly. Lesson 2: Good friends are always good to have around as long as they are not seasonal.

Autumn and winter were about as much fun as an appendectomy with a blunt and rusty pen-knife. Teeth gritting only resulted in potentially high dental fees. These months were akin to that epic battle between Jacob and the Angel of the Lord as depicted in the Bible. Sometimes in life, the reservoirs of human strength are stretched beyond the realm or reason and we must look beyond ourselves for help. To the divine I turned and true to the word, assistance was forthcoming. Lesson 3: Swallow your pride and ask a higher power for strength.

All in all, two thousand and twelve was an action packed movie with really poor dialogue inter-spacing the fighting.

Two thousand and twelve, you have loved and left me but such is what life throws our way sometimes. I staggered out battered and bruised with a headache as if I got head-butted by a zebra. I have left feeling rather short-changed, like the water pipe forever ferrying water but never quenched of seeming thirst.

You have taught me things about me that nothing else could have and for that I thank you; however, next time, just send a letter please.

Two thousand and twelve, go and stay gone; two thousand and thirteen, learn from your predecessor, and be easy.

Here we go!

Chronicles of a timewaster - Time warp

I'm quite convinced that I stumbled through/across a break in the flow of time in the world somewhere.


I was up and about and happy as can be right around when the first pigeons were fighting for attention on my balcony; I am by now over my frequent altercation with those 'adorable' troublemakers and even once in a while leave out mouldy bread on the balcony for them - but I digress. I got into the flow of all that appertains to waking up but somehow between then, indulging in breakfast and going thorugh my email, three hours were gone; just like that! Vanished, never to be seen again. In my stunned bewilderment, I spent yet another hour trying to figure out just where that time had got off to.


I postulated on stumbling through a worm hole brought about by a rip in the time space continuum. Quite like Alice in Wonderland, I slipped down the rabbit hole of space and time and dug my way through to meet Father Time in the 'flesh'; what a dialogue was had as time stood attentively still clutching onto snippets of the conversation that stopped time; maybe this was the reason for that time lapse.


I then thought it smart to blame it on the juice I had taken with my breakfast. Perhaps the expiry date on the packet should have been an indicator that dire consequences lay at the bottom of that mix. The state of delirium induced by this relisation was nothing short of the effects of consuming a hallucinogenic mushroom. Perhaps indeed this was the problem causing excuse.


Or maybe, just maybe, it was the soaking in of all the negativity in so called dailies from all over the world and all assorted and associated paraphanelia (read humour columns and such like sites) that gobbled up time like a starved gremlin. In as much as I refused to believe it, this made the most sense of them all. Perhaps it's about time I embraced my mantra, the internet is not my friend...just perhaps...

Memories are made of this

The earliest memory I have of then was staying home whilst you carted the older ones to the All African Games of '87. I was but two years old and now I understand commuting to the other end of town with a screaming rug-rat in you hands would have been a tall order even for you. I think I listened to it on the radio or watched it on the news but alas my young mind was probably indulged in more pressing issues.

On hitting standard one, I remember those monster walks that we would make to get to school early every morning while you hustled to get your work bus; when I think about it now, it was all of 4km every morning and evening. No way I could have pulled that off alone. Then finally when KWB rolled in and that commute became so much shorter.

Remember all those weekends spent in the garage as Mwangi and his crew tinkered with Wb's ageing engine in a bid to pull out a few more years from her? The highlight of those fatty-chips fuelled adventures was the road-test afterwards that always left a bit of a sad note in the system for the garage-weekend adventures were done. What of that family sports day when we did the father-son relay? Apparently, you could run; we almost won that one I think - it was crazy fun though.

Remember waking me up at night to watch World Cup '94? Those were brilliant times; all in secret, never telling the girls. WWF was especially awesome as was football made in Germany. What of those road trips to see cucu? In the back of Wb; teeming with the noise of family. Who can forget those? All those drives home tuned in to sundowner and loving every minute of it. Those were the days.

Working on the house in Matasia; sort of a semi-labourer I was - not strong enough to be a worker but astute enough to hang around and learn. Tree planting was way more fun then and you should see what it came to now. Then that bike; 12speed mountain bike for doing so well in KCPE. Easily the highlight of year then. How much fun times did I have with that bike? Only the good Lord would know.

High school was not devoid of these moments though; like making goalkeeper for the school team, flyhalf for the rugby team and that graduation day. The pride on your faces was inexplicable, as was it on results day. Always strove to make you proud and glad that I did when I did.

A cruel twist of fate led to this post; 8years ago today fate snatched you away. Feels just like yesterday we were making all these memories; 8years so long yet so short. I feel so many more chapters of our book were yet to be penned down. I have no knowledge of how but I shall attempt to keep it burning and somehow I know you'll help out whichever way you can as you always did.

Miss you.

Always.