Thursday, 8 June 2017

IS SHE RIGHT

IS SHE RIGHT?


It’s clear from the distance where I stand that you are deeply into it with her, in love

Your eyes dear friend when you speak of her they sparkle with pride like the morning star

She has your heart, that’s for sure, but dear friend is she really right for you?

Without all the lies that you told her about where you are from

And all the money you pretended to have just to please her

Would she still stick around if she found out the truth?

Because let’s be honest dear friend

When you show up at her doorstep without a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate

You get the reception of a pizza delivery guy only worse without the pizza

Would she still stick around if she found out the truth?

That you are a chauffeur and the car you drive her around in is your workplace

That the expensive places you take her out to squeeze every last coin from your pocket

Or that the golden necklace you gave her last valentines belonged to your bosses side kick

Pull all these together friend and tell me, is she right?

If you proposed today and she said yes would it be because you blinded her with money

Or because she genuinely feels for you?

If you told her you couldn’t afford a honeymoon would she smile and tell you to relax because all she needs is you?

Think dear friend.

Because I see nothing in her eyes to sell love

I hear nothing in her tone to suggest love

I see nothing in her actions to express love.

But I wouldn’t blame her, I blame you

For selling to her a man who doesn’t exist!


Monday, 25 January 2016

Tashreef chronicles 3

(I had had the opportunity to visit India for a year in 2017 to conduct business pertinent to oil machinery. I had imagined that the prices there would be fair compared to anywhere else in the world and I was right.Additionally, Kenya had just made its ties with India stronger in various ways and one of them was reducing the duty fee charged of any item imported from India.  It was while there that I made a good number of friends and got to learn some bit of the language). Tashreef, as I had learned is an Urdu word that means 'Honorable'. My boy was definitely honorable, the son of king and his queen. lovely......... just lovely.

The tremors of my phone ringing in my pocket are now becoming unbearable. I have the perfect ringtone, but now its beginning to sound irritable. "This is a moment am having. A good one, why wont they let me have it?" I curse with the presumption that the calls all relate to work. Nonetheless, I dig out the phone from my pocket and pick up for the current caller. Its mum. She sounds utterly joyful as she congratulates me. "Hahahaha, ni kazi ya wawili mum, asante lakini.'(Its the work of two mum, thanks though). My imagination before today was that i would feel heavy in my heart once the child came into our lives and perhaps cut off everything else for him/her. However, now that I am holding him in my arms everything is a bit clearer. I can see being available at home enough hours to be with him. My heart is not heavy because i can only picture the pride that will come from teaching him how to dance and play soccer, or simply watching him learn how to fight(in an actual fight). "Am on my way there son, don't let the little one fall asleep without saying hi to Grannie." Mother says as she hangs up.
 All the while, Marble is in what seems like a 'stupor'. she must be making plans in her mind of how we are going to work on conceiving the next one.... or probably not- not so soon after this experience. ........

Monday, 18 January 2016

Tashreef Chronicles Cont 2

We slide swiftly into an empty parking space just past the main entrance of Nairobi hospital
and I call out for a nurse until one comes to us and takes Bayang with him for a quick check up to see if he is okay. I follow them first to mark the room he is in and then  rush to the maternity ward where my beloved should have, by now, brought to life our baby- a boy I hope. ...........
Am breathing heavily-more of a heave than a breathe- and the sharp cry of a baby pierces into my ears tilting my movement into its direction. I cannot keep my expectations from showing on my face. that cry was definitely that of a boy." I tell myself in the midst of the rush. "well, not definitely since judging from the pitch of that voice it could be a very loud girl, but who's asking? we wanted a baby and here He was....... or she.  as i advance the room where my wife is, the child's cry gets louder and an additional one comes up. A happy-sad kind of cry from a person who has just gone through an excruciating pain right before holding, in her hands, a bundle of immense joy.  My brother in-law awakens me from the awing moment that catches me when i peep through the rectangular window-screened part of the door. A heavy pat on the back with congratulations in abundance. excited, I push open the door, rush to where my wife is and lay a kiss on her lips-that I doubt she has ever had before- leaving her breathless-literally- for a short while. "Am really sorry I missed it cakes, Am really sorry." I apologize. 'under normal circumstances I would have expected a ten to twenty minute scuffle or longer depending on what wrong I have done,' but today God is in my favor and forgiveness comes in like it really had to. guess the baby is already proving to be of help to me :-) ..interesting, no?
 I ask to hold my child so I can feel him or her and the nurse says "Be gentle with the boy, dont squeeze his air out." Its a BOY! Yes yes yes!. In the course of the excitement filling the room-or perhaps just me because wifey falls asleep a few minutes after I take the BOY- "Tashreef!" I let out. "Tashreef will be his name." (ofcourse we'll have to discuss this when 'she' wakes up, but am quite certain that she will like it........love it.

Saturday, 9 January 2016

Tashreef chronicles cont 1

The steering wheel seems to escape my control and so does the vehicle.  I can hear a scream-certainly not mine- except its coming from inside the car. Somehow I recapture control of the wheel and steer left  just in time to miss a collision with the ‘pimped up’ passenger bus whose control is clearly no longer with the driver.  I step hard on the brakes and when the vehicle comes to a halt I look back to see the on goings first from inside the car then I step out. The bus rams successively into the jersey barriers until it finally comes to a stop aided by the protruding steel from the last two barriers.  I run to the site fearing for the worst. Fortunately there are no fatalities-God really does exist. Most of the passengers are hurt, but the driver’s condition is worse seeing that his part of the vehicle was the worst hit. Others who had witnessed the incident rush to the scene and together we work to pull everyone out of the carnage. Before long, the Nairobi county government ambulances arrive in tens and the victims are rushed to hospital. It’s a relief that everyone there is okay.

On getting back to my motor I recall the scream that I had heard earlier. I open the back door and lying there unconscious is Bayang. Silly boy must have snack in as I was bidding his parents goodbye at their house where I had been staying while in Turkana. He probably hit his head in the course of the melee that had just taken place. I check his pulse and its utterly weak hence the need to get to the hospital even faster. 

Wednesday, 6 January 2016

tashreef Chronicles (introduction)

Its 9pm December 14 2022 and am driving fast down the Nairobi-Turkana highway hoping to get to the Nairobi Hospital before my baby comes along. At this point i feel am in love with whoever constructed the road since theres very little traffic- an assurance of getting there on time. There is a lot on my mind, like how is my beautiful wife Marble holding up?, is everything biologically okay?, might i miss my baby's birth!!!!? the accelerator finds its way to the floor such that my foot relaxes and the engine hums a bit louder but runs smooth anyway. The speedometer reads 180, but the momentum feels something short of 100. I had hoped to be back two days before today just in time to receive my child into the world. However, there had been complications at the oil wells in Turkana that my engineer self had to work out before leaving (damn work and its necessity!)

Now the phone is ringing-its my brother-in-law- but even picking up from my headset is  proving difficult so I ignore it although I can guess what he has to say. the sweat on my forehead  and cheeks creates a blur on my glasses that I force my eyes to see through. Am on a mission and it has to be accomplished. 
Am getting closer to the 'concrete in the jungle' since i can see the lights and hear the electronic trains hooting as they presumably enter the station. Nonetheless I can see a distinct shade of light speeding  towards me. Suddenly,...........continues

Thursday, 12 November 2015

About Belief

"Belief is not an action of sight, It's an action of the mind, heart and soul."Twincetthepoet

Sunday, 1 November 2015

My life in the 80's

Am not quite as old as you are already thinking I am,
but I do act like am older than anyone can fathom.
what brings me here today is my story about the 80's.
back then i was masculine and hairy,
body seldom bathed and shaved rarely
it was then that i worked hard literally,
'cause that was not a choice but some form of itinerary,
you either went through it, or went through it,
we had no ploughs nor cows so we had to bow,
with sticks as hoes digging shallow holes on the ground.
readying the earth for sowing so we could reap in the end

my dreams of an education had long been shuttered
with every plan that i had made having been blundered
stepped on, spat on and ridiculed by king kanda,
owner of the biggest known kibanda
He told me that my dreams were unrealistic
he changed my mind and made me pessimistic
about the hope, the dreams, anything futuristic

I lost it, the drive to become better
and follow my dreams to the letter
because everything i did ended up in a gutter
draining to places i couldn't even reach it later
I wrote a letter to the chief hoping that he would change my life for the better
but all i got was a bigger acre       of land to work on.
getting paid something close to peanuts
a case of so much pain with no gain

I hated the election period 'cause it was simply a waste of time
where the resident president had us queuing for days simply to confirm his obvious return to the state house
the media called it the presidential race
but really it was just a trace, the same face same place........to be continued