Knowing When to Leave

We all have been guilty of staying too long when we know we should have left. Okay, maybe not all of us. Some of us never stay long enough to have to make this decision. It is an everyday thing; you will be playing at the field and you end up going home late.

For kids of a certain vintage, that was certain to attract a bit of caning. This playground story plays out long into our adulthood. We are constantly battling against what feels good and our regular routine. For those who still believe in love, you might know what I am about.

Falling for someone is a beautiful thing; falling out of love or having to part ways for whatever reason is a different proposition. Often, one will want out earlier than the other. Partners may experience the same strain that leads one to seek an exit, but the other might want to hold on and fight for the status quo.

Fighting for your love is another relic from a bygone era. Today the concept seems foolish as everyone is busy moving on. Everyone is in a race to nowhere but potential heartbreak. You wonder when we became so fragile? Still, fighting when one is busy letting go is often an exercise in futility. Love cannot be negotiated like a peace settlement.

Love needs mutuality, and when one expresses a need to leave, the hurt one should accept the termination. Hence, knowing when to leave is an important skill to learn. Good vibes, like bad vibes, are known to us all. We tend to avoid the bad trying to think the good times will pull us through the perceived fault lines. It hurts to part ways, but sometimes it is all one can do.

Still, the skill is not limited to love relationships. In professional settings, we can easily lose ourselves pushing for an end that never arrives. It is advisable to seek change from time to time. A lot of what ails us stems from failing to read the signs on time.

One last drink tends to be the heavy head the next day. So much pain could be avoided if we chose to leave when our inner self speaks. learning to listen is key to success. As I leave tonight, I urge you to leave that relationship.

Poison

You can say a lot about the world today, and you will be correct. The one thing that everyone will agree on is the world is not boring. For every tragedy, there is a soul-lifting moment. Depending on where you look, who you see, or what you listen to, there’s something for everyone.

If you watch the news, you will know that the Taliban has overrun the Afghani government. For a little background. The Taliban has been under constant attack from a US-led force for the best of 15 years or so. Their taking over the country so soon after the US forces left is remarkable.

At a basic level, you realize an outsider can never really pretend to take charge of a people’s culture. I mean, you would think years of control and the forced rule would have changed the people’s attitude to US-inspired democratic principles. The fact that a significant part of the populace would choose to align with The Taliban and their ideology is a lesson in itself.

Humans are emotional beings first before anything. At infancy, a kid is all emotions, and adults are left to decipher the meaning of his actions. This tendency to lean on emotion is gradually weaned out of the infant through schooling and other relevant social institutions. As rationality, the use of logic, sets in, you can make better and informed decisions.

Nonetheless, your emotional self is always present. It requires the guidance of logic and that is why every successful politician has told a lie or two. Appealing to the emotions of the electorate tends to work better than well-laid-out strategies.

Going back to Afghanistan, you can say it’s the Taliban ideology spurring their take-over. A successful ideology is like a deep-rooted tree, well-fed, it lasts for an eternity. It remains to be seen how Afghanistan will turn out in the months to come but you have to give them a chance.

In closing, the world remains a beautiful place. Problems abound but so do opportunities. For every failed state, there is a peer that outgrew its rooting challenges to be a measure of modern success. Thence, it is in all of us to choose our poison, you’ll die but more likely you will grow.

The Last Time

I have been listening to a lot of people reliving the past. You know that feel-good conversation when everything from your past seems bright as day. You laugh at your pain as if when it happened you exaggerated your reaction. It feels good, doesn’t it?

This got me thinking about the last time I got a proper caning at home. You know I cannot recall. I thought long and hard about it but I can not pick out the exact beating. You would think for all the beatings I got for perceived mistakes, I’d remember.

Man, I did have my share of beatings as a child. The structured and non-structured punishments were frequent. you know structured because your sins were read out to you and the punishment meted out accordingly. Then there was the unstructured punishment which basically involved anything within reach, my days!

For a long time, I carried hurt feelings because I totally believed I was a “Good Kid.” You know most of the beatings came because I wanted to be a child; hang around with the neighbourhood kids, go chase birds or swim in the local watering point but no the parents did not like it. I was supposed to stay indoors and play with my siblings; the fights were inevitable, I think I was born chanting freedom songs.

I took the beatings, cried my eyes out, and where it was necessary, I sought refuge in the streets Like the Mau Mau fighters in the past. I did not mind getting punished, I was convinced I was doing right by myself and that was enough.

This went on for a long time until growth did its thing; I stopped seeking fights and yeah alternative modes of punishment were found. One day I was living in fear of home beatings, the next I was in control f my habits, all in a day’s work.

Now that I am older, I have let go of the resentment. I can sit here and reflect on my inability to remember the last beating and think to myself “What was I so mad about.” Pain in the present moment seems to be so permanent and we seldom think a time will come when it will be a passing memory.

It just goes to show, feel every moment especially the personal ones. One never knows the last, and some last moments you never forget. Cherish what you got.

On Matters Equality

By now, you know things are not well in South Africa. Lots of people with knowledge on the matter have tried to explain why things are as they are. I won’t go into the anthropology of the subject. My focus is on the lessons that are coming out of the whole disaster.

South Africa has long been a divided country, divisions and inequalities entrenched by the apartheid regime, refusing to disappear. Power and resource allocation are two sides of the same coin. The African has never done well in the allocation of resources. A small minority emerged after independence that continues fostering the inequality spirit.

The chaos seen today can happen in any society where inequalities keep soring and the political elites stay unbothered. The French Revolution is an example of what happens when a collective consciousness develops. The violence unleashed then could happen in any society. South Africa should serve as a warning to all leaders.

In a period in history where the super-rich are devising ways to escape the planet, it is time to sort out the inequalities around us. In a way, seeking a hiding place in outer space may be their only way of surviving the chaos that prevalent inequalities will bring.

The Covid-19 pandemic unleashed unprecedented devastation on a lot of people. As we speak, containment measures including, the availing of vaccines are taking a decidedly discriminatory approach; measures like this will spur popular uprisings against the status quo in years to come.

A lot of resources are allocated to human rights causes. Which is all good, but the focus should be on alleviating poverty. For as long as significant populations have no access to basic needs, rioting and looting will be a near reality in days to come.

It is time that society evaluates its priorities. Those who wield power, the controllers of resources, should focus on building fairer societies. Otherwise, the chaos in South Africa could easily happen elsewhere.

Seasons

Where I am from, there is no winter or summer; neither is there autumn or springtime. Our seasons are defined by the length of rain or the beating of the sun. We have short rains and long rains; we have hard-sun and soft sun and in between, we get a hint of cold weather.

All that was back in the day, the seasons are increasingly irregular today. Some say the gods are angry, while others claim it is a function of climate change. I am inclined to blame it on the emergence of Covid-19; it seems justifiable after the havoc it has brought.

But this is not about me; between the angry gods and the deteriorating climate attributed to global warming, things are bad. A justifiable reason is needed in these battles between science and the gods. A solution needs to be found and fast.

The rain drums did not beat on time this year, the drummer might as well have succumbed to Covid-19 unbeknownst to us. When it rained, it couldn’t be classified as soft rain, but we took it all the same. Now the plants are thirsty; we keep waiting for the soft rains.

A wise hare told me not to complain of the present-day cold; after all, it has come when we usually expect it. The gods are well and truly awake, and appeasement has occurred it seems. The hare could not answer my question on what to do about the lost months!

Things should get interesting in the months to come. There is always scope for unexpected good news; it is what has kept us thriving in a world out to bite us. Still, it could be a time for survival; the beauty is we are experts.

Mostly, we only want a popular initiative that guarantees the return of the long rains and the short rains; the hard-sun and the soft sun, the cold is already here.

I’m back. I’ve been getting writing lessons and along the way I had to pinch myself. I am not shoddy at writing, I like the growing plants can absolutely thrive. In all humility, my lack of consistency on this is my Achilles heel. Water a plant it will grow and I guess I’m guilty of watering this skill. Today, I’ve found myself here, here is to watering plants.

I’m back. I’ve been getting writing lessons and along the way I had to pinch myself. I am not shoddy at writing, I like the growing plants can absolutely thrive. In all humility, my lack of consistency on this is my Achilles heel. Water a plant it will grow and I guess I’m guilty of watering this skill. Today, I’ve found myself here, here is to watering plants.

My United

Ever read a story so good, every chapter seems to top the excellence that preceded it? I haven’t, but for most of my life, I thought I experienced such a life. My story on how I started supporting Manchester United and basically my love for football starts with a daily magazine. Long long ago, before the meaning of long was even identified I was born in a very remote village. The only power, electric-like we knew were the ones bandit left on their regular visits to our area. In this dark times,like an aspiring monk it was insisted on me to read the newspapers. For so long, I did this and a constant appearance was a a player in a “Sharp” sponsored shirt celebrating a sharp move.

In this regard, I’ll admit I was attracted to the glory that the red “Sharp” jersey used to bring to the back pages of the Daily Nation. As I grew up and enhanced my mental capabilities I finally got to put a name to the red “Sharp” jersey and especially the bearer of the number 7 jersey. My association with Manchester United will always be related to David Beckham. He was a picture I saw for so many days as a youngster, whether in the white of England or the eternal red of my Manchester United. I can’t point the year I first fell in love but a quick Google search will tell you how long I have been enthralled with this team.

For most of the those years growing up, the team seemed to mirror my development; constant growth and consistent development. We seemed to be winning at all levels, there were down times, a fractured hand here, a hammering by Middlesbrough somewhere but somehow we were always on an upward trajectory.

It is 2018, things are greatly different. I am not doing as well as I thought I would be and unfortunately my team is mirroring my struggles. I am pumped up today on a win against Everton, a team we always beat as often as the sun rises. Things are that bleak, every small win seems bigger than the three points. You see, my United has always been a close barometer to the feelings and the general condition of my life.It is not ideal, but it is the way I’ve known for most of my life.

I want more from myself, I want more from my United. I know we will get better, I know we will take our rightful position. The darkness has never been longer than the sunshine of day, that’s a great thing about living in Africa, I know these tough times will pass.

Glory Glory Manchester United, Glory Glory Mucui United. This is one post for me and me only and those who can relate.

Foreign

What if we could capture all our dreams, all the good ones, all the bizarre dreams and even the unreal. I ask because some nights I see things, I want to keep staying in that zone forever. Some nights are not so, I see revelations that make me question the nature of my relationships in the real. All in all I like my dreams and the ability to remember them. If dreams are insights in to the soul and the things I don’t admit to in reality, then we might as well continue. It is time I listened to some of the ideas I extract from thence and see where it goes.

It could all be nothing but I won’t take that chance. There must be a reason I see and remember these dreams. Anyways, have a good day. Are you a dreamer?

When it Rains it Pours…

In the song Keep Ya Head Up by the legendary Tupac there is a line that always captures me. I always find myself reflecting, meditating and wisening up whenever I get a listen. The song remains one of my favourite songs. A highly charged song, emotional and deep as only Tupac could. It is aimed at the ladies mostly, a socially conscious anthem elaborating the troubles and the tribulations of the girl child and encouraging them to roll with it and stay strong. It is hard not to be lifted listening to that song and everyone should have a listen.

The exact line goes “When it rains it pours, they got money for war but can’t feed the poor…” You get the drift. Today, my thoughts on the rain that pours line are motivated by a very heavy downpour calling the shots in Mombasa. Right from 3 a.m it has been pouring nonstop with intermittent breaks just enough for you to change your sleeping position. Now that we have to be productive or make a semblance of a living, the rain is no longer friendly.

The thing with this rain is that there is no dark cloud in the sky, no speck of the dark, roaring clouds I used to associate with storms back home. It is a bright day, full of falling water and white clouds, you,d think some taps were left running by mistake. It promises to stay bright and wet, I am not sure what one is to do with such weather conditions.

“When it rains it pours” I am not sure what exactly is the meaning behind it but it sure does apply to Mombasa. With no drainage systems to talk about, all I can hope for is it ends today. Or soon life, as is known to some people, will no longer be what it was.

 

 

Jamal Khashoggi and The Value of Life.

A man walks into a consulate, weeks later he is yet to walk out. What could have gone wrong, could he have taken residence in there like the WikiLeaks lead Julian Assange or has his movement been restricted, arrested on some ground or worse could he have been murdered? The last option seems bizarre, hard to believe even but it is what occurred on that fateful day. I found it hardly believable, the brazenness and the sheer disregard for international laws, norms and any other value system that ensures order or a semblance of it was astounding, to say the least.

For those of us not familiar with the story here is a short blub. Jamal Khashoggi, a dissident Saudi citizen critical of the administration disappeared mysteriously within the Saudi Arabia Consulate in Turkey. The now deceased Khashoggi had fears that he may not walk out of the building and his fears were realized. The accusation now stands that the hit on him was sanctioned from the very top of the power/political structure back home. The cover-up and the attempted explanations have stunk so much that The Powers in Saudi Arabia have had to own up and agree that the man might have been murdered.

The stench emanating from the  Saudi Embassy has seen a lot of back and forth across the developed world especially. Constant condemnations, constant rebukes and more importantly outpouring of grief and rage at the actions of the perpetrators of this crime. In amid the blame games and the power plays, the truth is one man’s life has been lost. In the larger scheme of things, why does this matter? All are born equal, but the world is not equal, as the deliberations here will show.

Millions die every day, obituaries are published daily and most headlines on the international networks are highlighted in blood. Yet, we do not discuss it as much as the case on here. After a while we normalize the deaths in the war-torn areas, we even blame the people in those areas for their woes. It is in their DNA, It is in their Culture, it is in their religion and much more. Yet, the conflicts like colour have a variety of shades and hues. The reasons go far deeper than we will ever dig but that is a story for another occasion.

The difference in life and its attached value is in the impact and the associated association with the public. A liberation leader dying, marks the death of more than just one person. There is the death of hope, the death of courage and the weakening of resistance. Hence, this life of a single man will generate “more pain”, gain more traction on the international space, unlike any other death. I think the pain of loss is the same for everyone especially when the relationship is good and the vibes are positive. It is clear though, the social impact a man makes, generates a bigger value on a single life.

And so, my heart goes out to the family of the departed Jamal Khashoggi. As to what happens next, the sanctions and all the reprisals that could come I am not sure what to make of them all. The truth is politics is a nasty business, selfish interests are at its core and soon they will move on from this. It is the unquestionable reality. Dissidents have been killed before, and probably many more will die. It is just the way these power games are played. The ideal political system should not disrespect life and the system in Saudi Arabia is very far from ideal.

Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely is a mantra you might have heard. It remains true today. Even democracies find a way to create a cabal that controls everything including what the people think they know and support. So, what is one to do, to preserve his/her life and be governed well? I guess, we will never know but we have to roll on. Once more, Rest in Peace Jamal Khashoggi.