The Fight Within.

I have had and i have lost. Both material and non-material. I have built things and they have crumbled and i held firm i didn’t want to stumble and fall. I tried relationships and friendships but that’s not what i wanted. I sought all i thought could help. I fought for what i thought i wanted but i was bruised i became weary. I tried to rise up and fight the more but i was already weak. Too weak to get up, too broken to mend, i has lost the fight. Completely paralyzed but nobody noticed. Lost in a world i can’t tell. Drained in endless tears and emotions. Buried in life’s regrets losing the purpose of life but everyone thought i was okay. East and west i couldn’t find rest. North and south piercing pain shining plain. I had no home, no place to live but my broken heart, my wounded self, the lost me. It wasn’t easy finding me, it wasn’t easy trying to rise. How would i even do it. How? When? I had nowhere to start. No stars to lead. All was dark but i had to find a light. But the light was inside me. In the deepest of my heart was the little light that I desperately needed. It was just a glow but it needed to be rekindled. Who was I to turn to? I only had me. The society pointed fingers at me, and I knew I was alone. To soldier through all this alone. I was all I had. I had to know what I wanted and not what everyone else wanted. I had to listen to myself and close my ears to what they say. It had to be me. Me and me alone. And that is what I did. Closed my eyes and ears, pictured what I wanted. What was good for me. What would make me happy. What would ignite the lost fire in me. I had to come back to life. I had to give myself the best. And finally I knew what I wanted. The fear of the rest was gone. It’s what I wanted. The society will always mock and criticize you no matter what you do. And that is why I chose this. Because this is what I want. Because this is me. This is who I am.



It has never been easy waking up every morning and wishing things were different or you looked a certain way. Everyday we put up posts on self love. Telling people to love themselves because they are the best versions of themselves. But every other time when I look at myself in the mirror I want to change everything about myself. I wanna change my chubby cheeks, I want those sexy cheekbones popping I want to rock an off shoulder top but my shoulders look too fatty and almost unpropotional.

My boobs are not still and erect. Even after zero number of pregnancies and children and only a quarter century old, my boobs sag. I must have the perfect bra to hold them into position. They also have these ‘beautiful marks ‘ that apparently I am supposed to embrace. But truth be told stretch marks aren’t the most beautiful marks one can have.

My tummy. Where do I even begin? I think it’s even a belly not a tummy that is if there’s even any difference. Those high waist pants  and a good buckled belt come a long way because once I  remove the belt my tummy is the most grateful. I hate it so much I think that’s why it doesn’t heed to my numerous sit-ups and planks to get rid of it. By the way I am almost giving up but I really hate it that I don’t know how to love it. I’m afraid that one day one stupid or morally twisted woman will look at it and in her own way of judging things congratulate me on some ‘holy spirited ‘ pregnancy. I don’t want that day to come cause that will kill me alive .

I got so much looks from my mom and personality from my dad. But one thing I hate about my Dad’s genes is his legs on me. Okay, what I mean is that I inherited his legs and I hate them. And that’s why I hate having short things on because of my manly legs. I even keep them hairy cause it would make no sense shaving them cause ugly is ugly. Wait no, I love my hairs!

All these blemishes and I am supposed to be comfortable in my skin and love myself. It is so easy to put up a post on social networks. A post on self love and brag about how you love yourself but every morning when you look at yourself in the mirror you wanna change everything about you.

If I was to get any award on the kind of posts I put up, I think I would become a millionaire based on my unending sermons and confessions about self love but truth be told, when I strip and stare there’s a lot I want to change about my body and very little that I love. Maybe it’s just my coping mechanism.

It’s hard to love and appreciate what you don’t even like.


But still, LOVE YOURSELF! Hashtag selflove .


Remember that night when you had sleepless nights thinking of how  you were gonna help them? Remember that  night you didn’t sleep looking for a safer place for them to run to? Remember that night when you spent almost all your airtime trying to call them? Remember that time you stopped your projects for them to finish theirs? Remember that day you slept hungry to save their poor souls? Remember that day you couldn’t sleep because you almost lost your brother 8 times in one week but you still gave them a shoulder to lean on? Remember that time your mother was so sick but you chose to listen to them and be strong for them? Remember the day you couldn’t hold back your tears cause everything was falling apart but you called and asked if they were okay. Remember that day you offered your place to be a safe space for them? Remember when you were a safe place for them? Remember when you talked for hours looking for solutions to their problems while your house was on fire? Remember when it all got too heavy for you and you told them to keep their problems to themselves cause you couldn’t any more? Remember how hard it was telling them that but you had to for the sake of your sanity?

Remember that day they put up this post? 


 “Telling people different versions of stories about my life so that when they meet they end up arguing on who’s right”

Yes, that night. Remember how those words made sense but you brushed them off ? That was the night. The night you should have listened to your heart and put an end but you kept on. And what were the fruits? You were taken for granted because you were just an escape!

Life Will Continue…

Life Will Continue…

Hadithi Hadithi

I have always loved girls with smoky eyes. Not thick thighs, just the eyes. I never quite understood why. Perhaps it’s because my best friend’s ex had those sort of eyes. And I always wanted to lay her.
She had thick thighs that one. And the sort of eyes that asked you to throw a friendship into the muck. For just one chance to bed her. I never did though, not because I am a particularly good man…the opportunity never came.
She always had these black locks with brown edges. And she wore it in that style that reminds you of a pineapple …a fine apple that one. Then her lipstick, goodness. That dark red that smelt like Jezebel digging her lips in blood. I loved it.
We buried him yesterday, and I am sorely tempted to call her today. Is there an acceptable period before you can call a…

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Do it before it’s too late.

You know, when you see a rest in peace post on Facebook, it always has good and sweet words. Words all of us would love to hear while we still breathe. People carry beautiful flowers to the graveyard. Some of them even do it yearly. Who wouldn’t love to receive flowers from someone even if it was only once a year? I personally would and many of you too but we don’t. Question is why? I will tell you why. People are just saving up waiting for you to die. Sounds crazy right?  But that’s the truth whether you like it or not because if not, i think they would hustle and get cash to be buying you flowers once a while to show appreciation at least if not love and care rather than wait till you are gone to buy them and  take to your grave when you can’t even smell let alone touch them.

IMG_8633 (1)You know what, people will see you depressed. They will see you fight overwhelming battles and all they will do is just write how well it shall be. They will tell you God will work a way out for you. They will quote Bible and Quran scriptures to you. They will tell you all that on Facebook. None will even offer to come check on you or even make a simple phone call. None will refer you to the kind of help you need. None will walk with you in your struggle. They will say it shall pass and forget about it. If you think i am wrong, look at anyone’s post that shows some kind of stress or depression. Just go check now and see. But the day you shall die, that day you breathe your last breath, I bet you, in less that 10 minutes your wall will be full of loving messages. Sweet paragraphs from people you would have loved them to say something to you while you were at your worst. They will say how much they loved you, how much you meant to them. They will even refer people to the posts when you said it was not okay. As if that is not enough, they will contribute lots and lots of money to cover your funeral costs. They will camp at your house for the candlelit vigil and on the day of your burial, trust me, they will travel from far. Others will fly in. Others will use lots of money to print your pretty poor face on black tees with kind words. They will hire good cars to ferry people to your burial and give you a good send off. They will post selfies crying and feeling sad that you left them yet they did nothing while you lived.

But what use will all that be of? They will try show the world how close you guys were by posting photos of you with them from many years ago. They will try show the world how they had always been there and stuck by your side but because you can’t talk from the casket and say how they never ever cared. How no one was even bothered when you reached out to them, they will end up looking like the most perfect friends to the world, like the #goals friends.

I have countless times found myself asking why can’t we put all that effort while our friends live. Why don’t we check on them? Why don’t we appreciate them? Why don’t we buy them flowers? Why don’t we write them good words? Why don’t we go pay them those surprise visits? Why don’t we make those calls?  Why wait until they can’t feel or react to it? Until it won’t mean a thing to them?
Anyway, we are just being the humans we are right? That’s what we ungrateful humans do. By the way guys i said, and i will say it again and again,https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10210714922257908&id=1494681685) when that day comes don’t post those long posts on my timeline.


Don’t buy flowers and organize those candlelit vigils in the streets for me. Don’t cry over me. Don’t even come for the send off. Please don’t or else I will haunt you as a ghost hahahah  . Oh yes I will. I kid you not. You wanna try me? Its up to you lol. If you can’t do all that for me now while I live, no need doing it when I can’t see or feel it.
Let us not wait until it is late. Do something now before it is late.


Thankyou for reading. Remember to like, comment and share with your friends if you liked it. If you didn’t please send it to your enemies and let them read it. Till our next read it’s a goodbye from me.

The perfect blind date.

Blind Date Pumping(1)Living at a time where approaching someone you just saw and liked is considered traditional, many of us opt for the online dating. At least it saves the unsociables the struggle. Having said that, it also has its cons you know,  like people hiding behind pseudos and all that creepy stuff you hear about blind dates. I enjoy blind dates quite a lot but that has got nothing to do with me being a shy person. Instead, it has more to do with me just having quite a tight day to day schedule and a lot more. Going on a blind date means you are physically seeing this person for the very first time without the many edits and filters on the internet photos. It means that you are going to see for the first time, how they react to stuff and also to some, listen to their voices for the very first time. Interesting, right?

I have personally gone to three blind dates, yes three, which were quite interesting although the first two were a tad bit different from this last one that I recently had and that is what I want us to talk about today. Let me save you the details of where we met. So mystery man hits me up and we kinda talk and in our first conversation the guy is already talking about us meeting and stuff. He seems way mature and says things as they are without beating about the bush so I have a good feeling about him even without looking at his photos. Less than five minutes in the conversation, the guy is already talking about where he is what he does and he just never stops talking. I am intrigued remembering the many awkward silences I had with the previous date. He seems really genuine and interesting and voila we exchange contacts and already plan on meeting the moment he gets back to the country. I then decide to  go check out his photos cause well, who doesn’t? I get a little bit surprised cause he looks somehow older than me but well very physically fit cause I wasn’t intending to go on a date with an old man with some stomach sagging from here to timbuktu .I contemplate blocking him but then I had already loved our conversation flow so I don’t. We keep talking for some time until I just suddenly out of the blues get bored and stop answering his calls or replying to his messages. Mood swings maybe… I couldn’t tell why i was suddenly not interested in talking to him.

I think we all go through that panic stage especially if you are an overthinker like I am. So I ignore him for like a month and a half or two. Then all of a sudden he writes me and we plan on meeting and set up a date haha. As we got closer to the day, I try cancelling the date but then I finally decided to meet him up cause he was so interesting. Again if I didn’t like him after the date all I had to do was just tell him that we wouldn’t work well together and just stop the conversation. So the big day is here and you know being a girl with many girly and fancy girlfriends they insist on me putting on a dress and boots cause it was gonna be cold but on the morning of the date since it was to be a lunch date, they all weren’t picking my calls and me being me, I changed my dressing and just settled for a pair of jeans, a sweater top, a leather jacket and some black ankle boots a bit high but comfy to boost my height haha.

I love this part of the blind date where you are meeting at a very open place with lots of people and now you have to kinda describe how you are dressed. At that point you can decide to stand them up if they aren’t who you thought they were but I swear I  wouldn’t do that to anyone haha. So my mistery guy tells me how he is dressed and I walk up to him and realised i hadn’t given a thought on how to greet him. Was I to shake his hand or hug or give the typical two kisses???  I find myself  going for the latter although he was kinda surprised. I think he thought I was gonna go and just hug him or I don’t know what haha. First thing I noticed was this bright jacket he had, my worst color by the way, haha lime. You could easily see him from the crowd, that color was too shouting to be honest. He looked somewhat younger than in the photos which was nice. Anyway, who would love for it to be the contrary?I guess nobody. So we decide to go have a drink before it was lunch time and settle for a bar around the place we were to have lunch.

99FF00.png(the color of the jacket)


The guy was very interesting. We had a lot to talk about being a blind date and  I loved that about him.The most awkward moment came. Oh my goodness!!! I knew it would eventually come but I never thought it would be that soon so he asked my age saying I looked way younger than in my photos. So I tell him my age and  I see shock in his eyes. Like real shock you guys. You wouldn’t believe the 3 minute weird silence that ensued when he told me his age. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time cause I had kinda liked him. You guys trust me this guy is not four or six years older, no he is not. We both take sips of our glasses of beers as we digest that age thing. But the beer seemed not to work. I almost asked for three shots of yokozuna. It was that bad you guys, that bad.



So we go for lunch and we laugh and laugh and talk and had the best time of our lives. We talked about everything from Christiano Ronaldo to Victor Wanyama, from coffee to tea, from Mariano Rajoy to Robert Mugabe, from ugali to sushi . Just everything. And even made fun of some extremely fat couple who sat behind us and all they talked about throughout their meal was food to the couple to our left who kept stealing glances at us. It was fun. It was just the perfect date. The perfect blind date I have been to and maybe will ever be to. I loved every bit of it.


I believe if you really like someone nothing should come in between you two not even age ahem! ama namna gani my friends? And by the way it is not that I am consoling myself no, it is called unconditional love.

Stop it now!

Screenshot_20170621-220341Let’s talk about abusive relationships. And by abusive i don’t mean physical abuse only. I mean all kinds of abuse including psychological and mental.
Ever wondered why some of us stay in this abusive relationships? Why we never bother to leave or report to the concerned authorities or atleast do something. In the first place, how and why did we even get there. Well, I have the answers for you. We got ourselves there because it was a relationship just like any other amd because we humans have become wolves in sheep’s clothing. We humans are made to believe that people change. Hello, people don’t change. Do not be fooled. Do not be deceived. People are the same. It is only circumstances that make them straighten or curve a little bit but they will keep being the same.
Physical abuse is as bad as mental abuse. But why don’t we talk about it? Is it that shameful? Is it hanging our dirty linen in public? Are peolple going to judge us? It is time we stopped caring about what other people think or say because at the end of the day it is us. It is all about us and if we don’t stop this stigma and stand up, no one will. We cannot keep dying any more. We cannot keep on being depressed. We cannot keep on hiding this morons. It is time to speak up. Screenshot_20170621-220230
They say the time he raises his/her hand is the time to leave. But wait, what about raising his voice? What about mental torture? Those hurtful words? That don’t care attitude because that is where it all starts. And by the way, once he starts this, he will never stop. Take it from me. He will keep on advancing each day. You are not a garbage site where all trash is dumped NO!! You are not a ball that can be thrown, punched or kicked. Don’t you think you deserve better. Don’t you think you deserve showers of love and pampering?
Yaani this week i have just been hearing about this men. I mean how do you go out with other women leaving your woman or even woman with kids with  nothing to eat. You fuel your engine, take friends out for drinks and nyamchom, take millions of photos, come back home in those wee hours of the night and not care if your family had anything to put in their mouths. You buy yourself the most expensive clothes and shoes while your family is in tatters. Your woman who is working her ass to death is full of debts every corner. Every shop, every gíkundi. Shame on you!!!! You wake up swollen like a mandazi there and cannot care why your wife is growing thin and weary. You don’t dare ask how she or even the kids are alafu you are number one in praising your kids ans proudly hitting your chest when they succeed yet you had absolutely nothing to do with that. You guys just take pride when kids do well. That is why fathers are plenty in graduations and mothers in plenty to beg the principal not to send their kids home for school fees.
I cannot put up with all this. No! Don’t you think that is abuse to the kids and your wife? When dating you expect her to cook and clean for you as you go out with your boys for drinks and she doesnt even have a soda or cup of tea. No goodmornings or goodnights. Then one day you come home drunk home and hit her like the akúrino drums. Next morning you blame it on the alcohol. The alcohol that you bought yourself. But she stays with the illussion that things will change but you know they never will because tomorrow you will hit her again and blame it on having a bad day at work but she will still stay. But when will you stop? When will you learn? And you woman, till when will you suffer under his careless nose?
Screenshot_20170621-231328It is not easy moving out. I know it. But what about trying? What about loving yourself enough not to depend on anyone? What about you speaking about it and taking action. When will you have enough? The day he will slit open your throught? Don’t wait for that day. Take a step now. And for the rest, let us not sit and start talking. Let us help our sisters. Lets us encourage them. Let us stand with them, let us speak for them and lets us support them and end this abuse.
End of rant!!!

To you girl.


You know what girl? You are beautiful. I know you know it though you don’t fully believe it but you really are. In the inside and outside. Beautiful, lovely, yes you are. People may not often say it to you but know that you are. A precious jewel. You’ve got flaws girl. Lots of them. But you know what? That is what makes you beautiful. The faults make you amazing because they are unique. I know there are days you stare at the mirror wishing to blink and tighten the sagging skin. Clear the spots and scars. Cut off some extra fat from your waist and tummy. You wish to clear and soften your face, whiten and align your decayed  teeth. But girl embrace your own kind of beauty. And I will tell you again that you are your own kind of beautiful.

You know what else girl? You are a strong woman. Yes stronger than you think. Not because you don’t cry i know you do but then, who said crying is weakness? I know you cry everyday. I know it just like your pillows. How you soak your pretty face in your blankets and cry and sob. But you are strong enough not to hide emotion. To wake up each day ready to face this cruel world.  To confidently look the world in the eye. You are a strong girl so don’t let anything or anyone bring you down because you are stronger than you think. You are stronger than you could ever imagine. You are so fierce that you tackle every giant the world brings to you. Even in despair you still shine. You still walk in the fire and swim in the tides cause girl you are strong. Stronger than you think so don’t stagger keep firm.

I know how empty you feel? An introverted extrovert as you call it but hey girl you’ll get it all good. I know you get lonely and feel alone i get all that. I have been there too but are you that boring to bore yourself? Hell no girl! Get up and cheer up. Smile, laugh and try to be happy, you deserve it all. You are a queen. Give yourself the light you give the world. It’s your time now. Your time to rise. Your time to shine. Your time to beat them all. It is not yet time to give up but get up. It’s time to soar higher to greater heights and surf in the biggest tides cause like I said you are beautiful and you are strong. You are amazing just the way you are.

I love the fire in you. I love your spirit. I love your zeal girl. I know you have a dream, a focus, a goal and I know you will get there girl. I know you will live it all. Just don’t lose focus. You are not any lesser than them no. You are way better. So girl go get it. Don’t let all this short comings get in your way. No! Face your fears. Face your weaknesses and conquer them all cause you are a woman of substance. A woman of character. A woman of dignity. A go getter. A dream chaser. You are that woman. Take your step and don’t look back. Don’t stumble. It is your time. Your time to prosper. Your time to reign. Your time to conquer. You have it all in you and within you.

So girl, rise up! Go your way! Find your way! Live your way! You are strong! You are beautiful! You are amazing just the way you are.

Time Time Time!

IMG_20170406_211022_125Coming to think of what is said about time, that it waits for no man. I tell you it is true. It waits for no woman either. I have tried it. Ask me what happened when I once thought of setting my watch and wall clock some hours behind thinking time would stop but shock on me. I had to deal with all the repurcussions.

Well, keeping age a secret is like a woman thing but mainly to those who look older than they realy are. Ahem!!! Personally I don’t hide my age because to me it is just but a number and that’s why I have been 21 for the last I don’t know how many years and will still be for the next I don’t know how many. It is not my fault though. I wish it was because I would gladly take all the pieces of blame but it is time’s fault. It is time that has rush. I don’t know where to and I don’t know why but we should hold a demonstaration very soon. Our voices must be heard!

Do you know it is just the other day I figured out that age is not sparing me. Like look, all my friends from school are either doing weddings or baby showers. Others are even on their second babies and here I am. Just here. You know you look at people you played with cha mama and cha baba and you realise you are not as young as you thought you were.

Time is one of our greatest enemies. Whether we like it or not. It never waits. It rushes on our best days but delays on our worst. It doesn’t go for breaks or holidays. Who does that? Even mama mboga doesn’t work on Sunday mornings. It is just moving and always working. Kwani it never tires? What is it made of? Come on time. Go slow on us it’s not like you’ll get anything out of flying that fast.

I hate it when time rushes more than we expect or would wish it to. You look at your age, where you are at and what you had always wanted to achieve by that time, where you had dreamt of being and you are left wishing to change time. To take it back to the good old days where you didn’t have much to worry about. But time isn’t considerate. It doesn’t think about us. It is so self centred and that is what it is.  All we are left to do is to get used to it but well, keep on complaining si we are still human. We are just to live each day at a time because your time can come earlier than mine but mine will still come at it’s own time. Because at the end of it all, it will always be time.

Our Fears.

IMG_20170126_182432_035Anyone who has met me knows the kinds of many fears that I have. Infact when peope ask what my fears are,I correct them to what aren’t my fears. We all have fears, things that can make our pulses stop. Some are just things like fear of the dark, animals, pain and all that. Some people even fear being alone. I mean such people will stick to people in every situation no matter how ugly things are just so that they are never alone. This are those people that would never even go to the loo alone in highschool. They always want company. It is like at some point when they are alone, the world will swallow them. Haha funny right? I don’t blame them though.

I have met people who fear death. They just fear anything to do with death. But I can boldly say I don’t fear death. I fear not dying because that is the only thing on this earth that I am certain about. Every other thing in life is a win or lose but death is certain. Nevertheless, I fear dying in pain. But that doesn’t make me a thanatophobic. I fear dying in pain and I think that is my greatest fear.

There is another kind of fear that always haunts us. That thing that pops in our heads unwelcomed. Something we dream about and wake up sweating and panting. Something that keeps lingering in your mind that it becomes like an assurance and you believe in it and just sit down and wait for it to come hit you.

At yonger ages when we were free and full of life. Full of everything. When the world was right there for us to explore. When we had dreams of being sweet sixteens over eighteens 🔞. The days we dreamt big and beautiful dreams. Those days before the world unleashed its cruelty on us. Those days when the world gave us the best even without asking. Those good old days, we saw our future. We saw the kind of life we wanted to live. We saw our families, our happy children. Those days were good, but they were tragic if you didn’t see your life beyond a certain age no matter how hard you tried. And worse if it is a young age.

You know what is the worst of all, it is being 24 years and have never seen anything nor had any dreams about 25 and over. No matter how hard you try it never works. It has always been a stop at 24 and dark from there. All black. And then here you are at 24 almost 25 and living each day with fear. With fear of never being 25. With fear of leaving the people you love and those that love you without a good bye. I tell you it is hard. It is not easy having those nagging night mares every single night and waking up to a cruel world every morning. The dreams, the struggles, the frustrations name them. But it is not easy. It is not easy when your head keeps telling you that 24 is your last when you would wish for a tripple of that. It is not easy but when it is like that, you only have one wish left to make. That if at all that is how it is, let it not be harsh. Let it not be cruel but just gentle.

25 is the end of someones fears.