Monthly Archives: January 2019

BURN THE FIRE OUT:-The sketches that flame.

This is a beautiful day,calm and filled with all manner of peace and with it a whole sense of understanding in the air,at least in my opinion it is.12.20pm,calm an afternoon it is to love and for lovers to make love.For friends to sit,chat and catch up on even.

Above all though,in it lays a sense of tranquil and call for understanding.A presence of air to listen to one another,relieve memories and forgive each other’s shortcomings and misunderstanding.

Am tempted to relay the ruminations from the previous night but O that would be a tale of hurts and bile.Just a bit of the same though is a fluid of negative thoughts,a break of heart and sink in joy.O how does one find better words to relay such pain unless they use curse words?But that would drain a whole lot of energy off my shell as there is non more left within right now.

The walls crumble to breaks and bricks jolt in a jest of disintegration.The once strong foundation is shattered,thanks to the once frame of steel that still holds it to its knees,a hope of reconstruction for the same.Not that the same thought held any water last night.

The tales pillows could tell with pay alongside would sure pay bills and water irrigation schemes.

Back to my present however is a complete picturesque,an ambiance to love and be loved,by who though is the question,hahaha,heart can’t help but breath a laugh of resignation to fate.

Today though the heavens speak a different language,of warmth and softness in the flow of air.An utter push to hug and let go of past sorrows.An entirety of amnesia to things past and an eventual growth of things present….

The calm is extreme and almost draws me into itself.Makes me forget all my mistakes and the pains that so creep the dark shadows of the mind.An insistent urge to let out all the crawls within the soul hence takes centre front.

See,I could have become accustomed to the deep pushes and strokes within my mind.You know what though?Today is not the same as everyday,it’s not an ordinary day.Today I feel free,almost somehow released from the pressures within.I could take on the whole world with a single whoop.I don’t even feel like just taking in everything as I have always done,no.

Today,right here in this atmosphere I feel alive.A pointer that could mean the last of me but still the same that could mark the beginning of a new Tomorrow.It is a flirt with fate I must admit.

So I don’t want to hold back anything,nothing is forbidden anymore as the heart comes alive in this moment.Nothing is wrong and neither is anything evil Today.

At this very moment it all dawns on me that nothing lasts forever hence I should ultimately and without care seize the day and moment as it comes.I realise I can only live right now and be me for Tomorrow is not guaranteed.

All else gives way as heart once heavy beats hard under breath,letting all rage if ever there was build up into release.A release that with it brings a flow of peace within,and sure glow of countenance without.

See I have let much take control of me,every other control what I do or how am supposed to feel,building up into a constant shove.Will I for once be able to live without this fear of disappointing one,two or more others,or having to live up to their expectations?Most times yeah I find myself in this predicament and you too am sure PePa lover find yourself in that valley often.

I remember a friend once telling me not so long in the past,they said that in every step and action course I take I gotta love me,and in so doing not let any other one change the person that I really am.Made me mooshy and feeling aaaaw!!that is so sweet.

Back to my spot though,all these events flowing in like a flood can in instances present work so hard inside to kill the only human left inside of you.

So if amma hold the inside me sane then that means that all the flood of inconsistency and uncertainty has to find a tributary without.Leaves me as the sole orchestrator and proprietor of the same .For a moment I felt like Odili in Chinua Achebe’s A man of the people saying those words.Remember Odili Samalu,the one Edna told was eating hills like yams?Am sure some of you are lost at this point and even PePa stares at me blankly.Read the narrative guys,a pack of work in one small book of an hundred plus pages.

I remember a statement,beautiful in fact that he once said,that a man who evades danger for a long time and then ends up being killed has wasted his care.That directly means that if am to have peace with the person that I have always been then I need to allow all negative flow within me energy out and in retrospect not lose mine own self.

Today therefore,am going to be me and live it like my last.Speaking of which,I have no assurance of Tomorrow so,I will seize it and in it live with no regrets.I will not let Yesterday kill me,I will forgive myself and in this day enjoy every second.After all,I only have me to blame for every mistake and the same me to enjoy every achievement so why lean on my darkside neglecting the glow on me.

Still my mistakes don’t condemn me,no,they only help me grow.

So,yes PePa,I can only seize this day and let it be my best,in process I can watch my sketches build into a ball of amazing joy and personality.



A DIVE WITH THE DOLPHINS:- Sketches of Wasini.

Am seated right here,my feet all curled up onto these hard but comfortable sofa cushions,an action that over the years has become a bad habit to let go of.Found myself raising my feet for rest on my toilet seat,bad habits,huh?On the other arm rests a star fish in form of a decoration.

For the least of my knowledge,caused mostly by ignorance in my Zoology classes back in first year of University.Wait a moment:but I was naive and cared non the less.University was meant to be a source of knowledge and a pool of growth but sure this din’t apply to most of us.As it seems it never hit me to know the full anatomy of a starfish for if that was the case,this crustacean wouldn’t be lying lifeless on my sofa arm as a decoration but would be swimming free in the deep Indian Ocean.

My mind wanders and I find me tracing the origin of this decoration.In memory am down the dusty Mombasa-Ukunda highway.A cool stretch of green vegetation and beautiful blue sky that is.Along the road streaks of baked-brick houses mostly in shades of yellow and grey cement to hold.

A sight that helps less but remind me of my younger years back in Kuria district on your way to the Kenyan-Tanzania borders,a place called Isebania.Quite a flash it is,with the red murram earth that holds water so well making the digging of boreholes seem like child’s play.

Well,in my lost trail of thoughts am down to Wasini village and we are calmly set onto huge wooden boats.Our tour guides cum hosts are a couple of humble,amazing and honestly pleasant Swahili speaking coastarians.Most of them,digos and others giriamas,a language bordering Swahili but with an oomph you want to infect you.The digos I listen to in envy,if only I could learn there dialect….mmmh

A ride through the waters of the Indian Ocean it sure is,rough and slippery,with waves upon waves of water beating the sides of the old,brown planks of wood that we use for a boat.The captain,I think he called himself Captain Omari sits quite calm at the oars and it kind of gives you inner peace and confidence that the ride will be safe despite the rough and angry waters.

With us in the boat is this beautiful baby,quite heavy and unhealthy I judge on my first glance.But looks can be deceiving.I initially thought the mother had neglected and overfed the baby who couldn’t walk by himself and had to be ridden in a baby carrier.

We get off the boat on a secluded but beautiful inland Island.A marine park it is.How I almost drowned in my show of bravado is a story for another day.

The same baby is gotten off the boat and onto the Island.Heavy he sure is and I pity the guides who being good swimmers have to carry him and man ain’t they slender?

On the Island a companion of mine whom I haven’t mentioned so far looks at the baby.We will call her Kare.In her eyes I see compassion of a thousand hills.Like the force of a fleet of streams down the mountain side.Those beautiful round eyes water and fill with a tenderness I had not noticed for the entire time we had spent together.When I met her I knew she was beautiful but the intensity manifested now made me weak on the knees.

She draws towards the mother of the baby and has a chat with her.For a moment all else is forgotten as the two get deep in conversation.I believe they discussing about the baby.

I drift off and play sand-games with Morena who really knows how to throw balls of sand and they can hurt for sure.She should have stayed in the water and watched the fish under goggles,but here she is not giving me peace on the beach,inland remember?

Kare comes back after their moment with the baby’s mom.Her heart seems sunken and eyes can tell a thousand sorrows.From them you can tell the love she has for babies not just from being a mother herself but in it is true love for the health of babies.

She goes ahead to explain that the lil boy is not unhealthily overfed but suffers from a birth disorder.A condition called hypoxic-ischemic encephalopathy (HIE),a condition caused by neonatic asphyxia that leads to a severe lack of oxygen to the baby’s brain during birth,this in turn injures brain cells causing (HIE).I am taken aback and now understand why the lil boy’s feet could not flatten and he couldn’t walk on his feet rather he used his toes.

How stupid and inhuman could I have been to have even let that evil judgement cross my mind?A case of jumping before I leaped or not fitting into another’s tight shoes but saying how stingy they are they couldn’t even buy shoes that fit them.

I recoil into my judgemental shame and am honestly humbled by Kare’s compassion.A true show of love for one’s neighbours,an attribute I always preach about only to learn I din’t even know how to apply.

We are back to the boat and as the divers help carry the lil boy to the boat,I find myself drawn to help.I take the boy off their hands as the mother is helped onto the boat by another.

I want to give him away when mom is on board but his mama looks tired and instinct tells me to hold him longer.After all it wouldn’t cost my lap now,would it?I take to the bench on the boat side and hold him to my laps.It is hard keeping him upright but we soon find a synchrony that works quite well.

At this point his drools are streams of joy and him biting on my arm emits a wave of warmth as I find peace within myself.Govi on the other end teases me of how good a father am becoming eliciting a smile from Kare.

I rock with him on my laps in symphony with the waves rocking upon the sides of the boat as we head back to Wasini Island.

Along the waves we get an amazing display of dolphins swimming up out of the water and taking beautiful dips into the ocean.A total display of tact and unmatched evolution and adaptation.

Did you know that dolphins apart from humans are the only fish that have sex out of pleasure rather than mere mating?I thought you should know.

This time round the waves are quite angry as they beat vehemently upon the boat,which in turn sways to and fro from side to side.For a moment I whispered a prayer for us all.It reminded me of the story of Jonah as he was escaping from God and the sea was wroth with him.How the people in the ship cried out from fear,full-bearded men.What a sight!

We hold on tight encouraged and comforted by Omari,the captain’s composure and within no time we are at Wasini Island for lunch.

Lunch is an exciting display of Swahili cuisine,a plate of sea weed vegetables,one that soon becomes a delicacy and lust of all the tables around us.I am amazed at how Francie and Govi crush huge crabs and gobble down there insides.For the first time right in front of me I see squids as food.Thank God am no lover of sea food but how Philippe is munching on this you would think it is the best meal in the world.

Well,we love how they serve,the enthusiasm and reception is overwhelming.The food O so simple but doesn’t it entice all the taste buds? We eat and eat and eat and being the only meal of the day I guess,we eat some more.

Soon we get a tour into Wasini Island.An Island homing around 3000 persons and of a size of 3x7km2.We walk through calmly paths lined by little boys and girls,some holding shells for sale.

Not quite an amusing sight to behold.Little boys and girls pleading with us to buy the sea shells and other treasures gotten from the ocean.A heightened display of poverty,nothing to write home about but if I don’t who will?

The first statement I hear from Kare after a long sweep through the village is,”The sight of all these little girls and boys and how dilapidated this place looks like makes my heart sink.I can’t imagine we rarely lack even what to eat and aren’t even grateful about it but here the parents to these kids send them out to hustle for a little money to put something on the table.”

Her concern is genuine and looking at the little girls,the compassion and concern in her eyes is immense.I am moved and actually fall in love with her personality if not her.A human that makes my heart fill with both joy and care.So without thought I am led to get the starfish that she so loves and asks if it has been painted or it came like that from the ocean?A question to which I teasingly answer that it must have been painted for all that reddish beauty.

Her smile fills the sad salty and humid air and I swear the dolphins in the ocean must have leaped into the air just from the warmth she created at that point.

We wait for the small canoes to take us to the huge wooden boats seated by the rocks hand in hand as we chit and chat.

My heart knows no bounds at this point as the canoe comes and we silently but joyfully leap on.If you was in my shoes,wouldn’t you have fallen in love with her?


DEATH OF PEPA: sketches of flirtation

Every write has a tear,every line forming a drop.A classic that has now become an honest mainstay.

Mind grows wary of pen for in it joy has missed his way home,lacking a place of rest and in its stead sorrow has found homage.

So to write no longer breeds love or fun but makes tears to find path of way.The same pen that once so easily dripped with a flow of merry and a juice of mirth now forms nothing better than a trickle of shear hurt and endless resolve.

Writing,O the chills and distaste it broods in mouth.The companion that once was has now become the nightmare that so creeps into the shadows of mind.

Writing,shall fingers itch for end?or heart break from hurt?shall the walls within hold strong even when all wind and storm beat hard without?

So will walls of within find new refuge in writing?will where once lay peace and tranquil rekindle the peace once brought?

Still writing is frowned upon for tears now form pillow of rest.The mere cold in them now warmth of release hence.

If then source of tranquil loses form then what replacement is earned after?

Still finger itches as tip of pen on paper lingers in anticipation of drip of ink upon same.Bond though,can only form between mind and heart in unison with pen.

So question left is what is end of pen if mind and heart lose touch with same?

HOW ABOUT WE LISTEN:the sketches of friendship.

The beauty of life is that it doesn’t always work the way you want it to.Not even with the best laid out plans,you know why?Because we are not the determinants of our outcome.

A trouble in my mind,a reason I can’t fathom and it sure bothers my thoughts,mind,trail,and every essence of me.Maybe,just maybe fault is mine but how could it be when from my end I play it the best way possible,laying every possible measure and layer of foundation.

I figure it out and no I am once again lost in myself,a current phobia that eats out my skin.

So I tell myself that the race is not for the swift,nor the battle to the strong,neither yet bread to the wise,nor yet riches to the men of understanding,nor yet favour to men of skill;but yet time and chance happens to them all.

So still I wonder in my mind,should I be calm and wait to see the end?When this time strikes,what do you do with it?

Oh and when you act on the chance that so strikes how so does it become a mistake still.I beat my head and my back it breaks from the uncertainties so posed by life.

Sometimes I don’t even understand what am saying.For to live I must live and to leave is not an option.

Forgive me PePa if most times I lose you in my wake but it just boggles and brings no end to the ruminations.A time piece that has sure become home-stay,for simpler understanding call it common place.

If you are to be my salvation then company you must keep me.Together we will walk this lonely road on a boulevard of broken dreams.Here where the city sleeps and we’re the only ones but we walk along.Yes we walk this lonely road,the only one that I have ever known,I don’t know where it goes but it’s home to me and we’ll walk along.

So my shadow won’t be the only thing that walks beside me,and my shallow heart won’t be the only thing that’s beating.

Yes maybe am the only one on this road but spread abroad am sure many same minds share my calamity.So is there solace in sharing the uncertainties,the constant boggles and unanswered quizzes?Is there any solace found in sharing?

If you found a heart to listen to your unanswered quizzes and thoughts not worthy to speak would it make a better day?Would your life become better?PePa is my mainstay but what about you.At times she speaks but Today she is quiet so I find no solace in her.

Is there someone out there who needs their crazy thoughts laid bare and naked,where insecurities count no more and vulnerability pays in kind and hope remains no more hope but its place is taken by kind words,reassurance and unrivalled peace?

I don’t want to walk along the streets talking to myself and fingers point at my unwellness,I want a friend to listen to my stupidity and judge me not.I want a platform to shout and scream my lungs without bursting …I want a platform to be heard and not throated down.

If that friend called and asked for your time,give it to them,if they asked to be heard,listen to them.They may not want your money or input in any way,maybe just your time and concern,your care and love.It costs nothing but means everything.You may not even have a solution but really,how much did you pay for your ear and time?

So I may not have been heard Today but at least I let it out my heart.I may not have found a solution but still my ruminations could have reduced.

No,not everyone needs your money or resources,some just want to be heard and then maybe,just maybe,Tomorrow they won’t have to shout no more for even you could be a source of peace sent from up above.


RUMINATIONS TAKE FORM:sketches within the glint.

It is much easier to ignore someone who means nothing to you for human nature has evolved to accommodate that.

When it is someone you really care about however,someone you deeply treasure and even love bottomlessly despite the time of acquaintance,bottomlessly I said right?The whole story becomes grammatically erred.

I never even for a moment imagined that such a kind of love ever existed.Only saw it in Tv sets and choreographed photo shots.How do you even capture such an immense kind of love and affection all in one snapshot?Issa lie as they always say,”Cheers for the camera!” and the shot that follows is worth a million dollars,the smile to be precise.Is that the definition of the Monalisa Smile?

Speaking of which,I never knew what all the fuss with the Monalisa half smile was all about,that is up till I read an intriguing African short story from “Encounters from Africa” a set book back in High School and damn!It finally hit me,the smile carried both warmth and pain all in one shot,death and life,love and hate.Woow!!! Too much for a smile and so much more in a single picture.This defied the odds of Photoshop.

So here I am,worked out,showered and clean,even clean shaven,no hair,no beard .The kind that looks as if you are ready for a dinner date.Smelling good,looking all crisp and woke(had to use this new word my friend taught me recently)it means alert.

Am sure you get the ideal picture now.That is me in my living room but oops!! There is no date.Sorry to burst that bubble.Yeah I know,it hurt me too.

Contrary to that,am seated down ready to relax from the perils and clammar of the day,remote control in hand and favourite channel switched on.

Don’t ask what favourite channel is because if you are thinking Mexican Alejandro and Camilla or Spanish Manuela and Claudia then you are O so wrong!And again am sure your second high-riding bubble is burst yet a second time because am talking about NAT GEO WILD(National Geographic wild) .I honestly also don’t understand why I love wild things myself.I guess they divert my mind from the harsh realities of daily living.

Just as the amazing channel(please don’t wonder what’ so amazing about Nat Geo Wild) comes on,she creeps into my mind ever so stealthily and her ruminations set in.

Out of nowhere I am clouded with thoughts of her.That captivating smile,the well planted and carefully lined red lipstick(keep in mind am no lover of make-up let alone lipstick),chubby but all sexy manicured nails,even the look portrays a total freshness.And without caution am so gone into myself.

Now get past the physical because if you dwell on her magical voice you are so gonna miss all the juice inside.There is this warmth that heats up the whole of your winter when she looks at you,it melts all the snow and marshes away all the pain within your cold heart.Should be the glint that stole my heart away.

If not to explain so much,she doesn’t need anything from you save for your unwavering love,care and attention,all wrapped up in the space of time,quality time I may add.

Time and friendship was all she was about,but space is what she needed.So I gave her space and now I can’t help but miss her terribly.So I can’t sit here no more.Not in the same mind she is in.


WHAT IF YOU ARE WHERE YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO BE:-Sketches of ungratefulness.

Wednesday 23rd January,the year of our Lord.I never really understood what those bishops and padres always meant when they put up those big words.

It is around 8 in the morning,am seated at the counter,one that I had gotten used to over years past.But at some point it itched and I din’t find it fancy anymore.

The constant buzz on my cell and back to back calls was such a frenzy my ears cried foul.So I worked it out,did I?nope I din’t.I should call it the grace of God came through,in a blessing of one Chep,I call her kale,short form for kalenjin.

Her accent always tickled me and I loved making her repeat whatever she had said,something she never realised I was doing out of fun but when she did she stopped repeating and always laughed about it.Such a quick learner that lady was or still is.You know what fascinated me most about her?She never gave up or let go till she had learned at least a thing or two.

And what else to call this but grace,grace that we sometimes overlook,beauty that slides right under our noses.That which we cover up in names of how hard-working we are and how charisma has its way for us.Speaking of hard work,I think the mjengo guy(the hand labourer) is a more hard-working human than most of us.Irony of life though.

So seated here,having in mind I was just a little late compared to the lady going down to Marikiti retail market at 4/5 am in the morning to get groceries,I wonder why I have been seated for quite sometime at this counter.Problem is not sitting at the counter but issue is that no clients are streaming in.All am getting are orders upon same but what I want is money,money you know?real cash money….

But I have orders,right?Something I should be grateful for,irony though is I have gotten accustomed to it it feels like a right,a birth-right huh?Poor me.

And then I think back on the lady who had woken up much earlier to fetch groceries.My mind wanders and sure PePa gives me a slap on face.That lady hasn’t sold a thing either,it is only 8am. but she will have to patiently wait till maybe 11 am before she gets a 10kshs client or maybe 100kshs.

Well,her patience is amazing seeing that we live under the same hot sun,and adding to the fact that while I whine and complain on my beautiful if not orthopaedic swinging office seat,she is seated on a pillar of stone layered with kikois/kanga as some would call it for softness.If she has an upgrade it would be a wooden stool with no back-rest to lean her already tired back.

So for a moment am swerved,mind thrown to reason and all complaints kept at bay.PePa is sure delighted for for a moment she has no idea of what’s on my mind unless I share,she never has anyway.

Am reading an article on whatsapp on how we should be grateful to God for every little(or so we think it is) thing that we have.This soon reminds me of another post I perused through on instagram and shared it with no much thought put to task.We do this often,right?Like just see something we ‘deem’ nice and share it.We are ‘friends’ you know?

I remember asking a friend the other day if they had friends and she was quick to say yes,when I asked how many she started counting ,”one,two,thr….” ooh noo she couldn’t get to three.Then she looked astonished and I calmly told her to relax,she is alright,they are acquaintances and not friends.So next time you thinking about those forwards or even friends remember this please.

So about this instagram post,it states and I quote,nope I will not quote it,let me put it in image you see it.

Now does that hit a bolt in your mind?

If it doesn’t think again about it and re-read it.

What if all I have been asking God for has already been answered and in my ungrateful mind I can’t even see it.What if am too greedy to be content with what I initially asked for?

When I was a young lad for example,I always prayed that mama would someday take me to the big city,the city under the sun,the place of cold waters,Nairobi that is,not that my village waters were any hotter now that I don’t live down the geysers of Lake Baringo.But I just needed another environment,different from where I was,where ‘things happened’ and life was a little more fast paced.

Irony to that is that being in my state I am complaining still,worried about why things are not as I want them to be,why they are like this and not like that.

You will give me an obvious reason and tell me,”But we are humans!” Humans really?like really honestly?So being human I must grumble and complain about me and not think about the next person?Being human makes my problems more important than the next person?Being human means I have to ride on another since I must first sort me and be comfortable sitting on another?

“Then being human must be a terrible thing,disgusting in fact”,spoken from an alien voice,”I would hate to be human.”

So for a moment why don’t you look back and realise that God’s purpose for you is more important than your grumbles,that His plans for you are more amazing than what you imagine.For a moment see all the answered prayers and give thanks for those.Look at the little strides you have made and work on them with gratitude.

What if you are right where you always looked forward to be?Where you constantly prayed for,what if,what if?

Wednesday 23rd January,the year of our Lord,now I see,now I make it out.Now it all makes sense.

Just shade the scales off your eyes and mind and for once see.

See your life.


THE PARADOX WITHIN:sketches at the Airport

A beautiful morning it is,filled with excitement and smiles to cup it.It is 6 and my sleep is gone.Am eager to take a drive down the escarpment.Down to the valley beneath the rift.

So with no alarm to wake me up this morning the excitement is pure enough to rise me out my bed.With grace from above this is a day to sure enjoy.

So am out and the next is a knock on David’s door and he ain’t even in,must be an early riser from the guess of it.”Aaaah Husseini,”he quips from over my shoulder,”Na umekuja mapema sana?” To mean am a bit too early,but the agreement was 30 past 8 and I sure had delayed with another 20.He ain’t dressed let alone shower.

Am reminded he went on a little spree to calm his nerves last evening of the imminent reality that most of us so succumb to in a moment or some.

He drags along and we take the much awaited trip down the escarpment,mission?To pick Morena up and be out in a swift.Not much to talk about down the drive which is actually awkward for a friend of forever.But we have learnt to enjoy our silence and be at peace with each other.

We are down the escarpment and a delay takes form which in reality is worth it as we are headed back to the city to take a flight,something that for an initial time is always quite exciting.But not Today.

Back on the road and the car is filled with tales,all tales to cover the emptiness that so burns within.I wonder why empty yet the beauty of life lies in the skies and in the warmth of love?But right in the midst of all that is where chambers grow and streams flow I believe,right?

Getting into the airport the air is calm and the birds do not sing this evening,or maybe they don’t on this part of the airport,did they know how it feels like to be at Terminal C1 of JKIA?At this point I believe they do.O and if you lost me,this is the departure terminal for international flights via the Swiss air.

Did I mention that on the other end right after the entrance,with an array of wild beast statues and vultures alike against a backdrop of green leafy grass I could hear songs?(Oh,they’ve added a hyena,Janex shouts).Not actual songs but the chirpings of nestling birds and some going to rest?

Quite an irony on my end with the downing sunset and a pull and push of bags past the entrance.I look for smiles and non familiar can I find.I look for excitement and seems it all lies far within the setting sun..The rays of which aren’t so captivating this evening.

I look within myself,the self-proclaimed activist of nature and it’s glorious beauty now am all but against it.It brings no joy within and I can’t even hold onto it.Not as I used to.All this time David is quiet as he calmly(from my view) whispers into Morena’s ears,she is not the jumpy lively girl I have always known.

Janex on the other end,wait a minute,now who gave her that name,I won’t even ask that for he mother as I have discovered is an awe,an amazement of a person.And she on the other end is the big sister I never had so amma hold it down here.She has nothing much to say this evening and contrary to this,quiet and calm has never been her big win.

I guess all elements shout obscenities at this point.

Just a little steps down the tarmac are a couple entangled in a never ending hug,are those tears I see through both their eyes?the glint within their souls is tested to its limits at this point but goodbye they must say.

Back to my step,the two sisters check in as we wait on the pavement with anticipation that they will come back the entrance saying the flight is cancelled or there is a delay but nooo…

She comes back,Morena,Janex has to watch over the luggage,hugs David and tight they stay,my mind is lost in trail and Mo’s mum engages in phone calls a meter away,not that they are important but at this point they have to be cuz from what I gather she is no fan of goodbyes.They hold back the tears and the sorrow is evident.It actually shouts through the air and could cut a pin into two.

I glance away and find no solace in all the sad faces I see.Why do we have to stand outside while they go inside anyway?Why can’t we wait on the inside with them till they board the planes?On my left is this lady with a ruddy face,just from bidding her hubby goodbye and can’t seem to get off the phone with him,no sign of joy on her face.

Why does it hurt so much right now yet picking them up at arrivals just a few weeks back was quite a joy?

The sun has no remorse as it downs and reminds my soul that the same tree that brings food is the same tree that falls upon the roof of the house when it is old and wary and the rain beats hard on it.

Slowly it dawns that these are the sorrows and joys of air travel,the actual paradox of life;to those coming in amazing joy and those leaving terrible hurt.No photos Today,no moments for that…

My Italian friends Govi and Franchie cried the other day as they hugged us and never wanted to leave,the Philippine,I named him Philippe though actual name Jerrick never wanted even a handshake as a goodbye.

So now I can’t afford to give Morena or Janex a proper hug,the sorrows of goodbyes.

The best you can do is to face the truth and seize the day as the greeks would have it written in italics “CARPE DIEM”.

IS LOVE AN ILLUSION:the sketches of growth.

Am standing here,in a place of no return,or so I heard they call it.My heart sinks as waves and waves flow through it.

Down the side-walk stand a couple,middle-aged I guess,the lady looking petite with a beautiful grin upon her chin,clasped in the right of her hand is a handsome middle-aged man,chocolate to almost ebony in skin tone,he should be in his early thirties with the lady approaching her thirties,quite a match I must admit.

A stare at them with his magical smile that seems to be engraved onto his lips is inevitable;he draws her closer and looks into her eyes,an action of affection I believe it is,which even in my withdrawn state still curls a lump down my throat.Did I say down?an actual lie that is,for even to swallow is a struggle as the pain is eminent.

The sun is calmly and annoyingly sinking over the horizon,an action which on normal occasions would have been a sight to behold.Today though and this evening in particular I envision no beauty in it.

It lies a reminder of the things I’ve lost,the beauty that so embedded my heart.The stare into the horizon that brought nothing but warmth,joy and peace to the darkest corners of my innerself.

Yes,through the drive they kept asking me if I was okay but the lump was too deep to even give an answer,so I shut them down with a smile,all so superficial it left doubts in the trail as they came back to the same question after much laughter and tales shared.Very interesting topics I must admit but asked of which I would remember non for my thoughts,O my thoughts some day I hope won’t become the loss of me.

So I tried to lie right through my teeth that I was okay.My friends they sure cared but my thoughts I couldn’t divulge,so raw,so deep yet so painful to even share.

Am confused to say the least,cuz if I used distraught they would call an ambulance or I dunno if they’d use the cops but one thing am sure is rehab would be a good place for me.

But no,I won’t,I can’t even afford to think about it.But still my heart it sinks.

So my love for sunsets has to forgive me for once,the alliance and affection we once shared is proving unpalatable.My eyes try to look but my heart is not convinced,that one day the sunset calms you and the next it burns you inside.

See am trying to be positive but just like these young,sexy and if I may say even optimistic lovers.Just as they stand in amazement at each other was I the other day.Or was it a dream or just a voice inside my mind that crushed in an avalanche?

So no,I don’t hate the sunsets,I don’t even mind them right now but,but you know what PePa?The sunset reminds me of all my joy and my happiness,all my warmth and the peace that lay within my heart.So I try much not to look at it with beauty because in it lies a reminder of my ache that if I had the will to,I would reverse.In a snap of a finger I would.

So as I stare at these two lovers if I may call them,my heart goes out to them but more to God in prayer,that this warmth they have stirred may grow into a fire,a fire that if love is true can only be quenched by more of it.

So down lower the sun sinks it reminds me of a song I once loved;-

Tonight the sunset means so much,the one thing that you know,you never touch;like the feeling,the real thing I reach out for that sweet dream,but somehow the darkness wakes me up,and I’ve felt this emptiness before;

But all the times that have been broken,I still run right back for more,You’d think that I’d learn my lesson by now,you’d think that I’d somehow figure out,that if you strike the match,you’re bound to feel the flame.

So forgive my dislike for the sunset right now.It makes me doubt love in all its essence because it creates a depth of emptiness within.An emptiness that I never knew only a single one soul could fill.

But it is just me and deep down I know that love is a beautiful thing.So with this realisation I look at the couple down the sidewalk and that pain fades away.

My mind strays and so does my eyes across the road and there stands an older couple,years have passed together and they look like they just met Yesterday,they look amazing and the warmth between them magical.Fifty and going strong….then it hits me that the friendship had solid foundations,roots upon which an amazing tree grew…the tree of love.

So PePa,maybe love is real,maybe not an illusion,it just needs roots upon which to sprout and foundations to lay on.A foundation of strength and friendship.

So the sun goes down and up comes the moon.Out of the gibbeous and approaching it’s fullness.

So from my initial question of love being an illusion,my very rumblings of the sunset are rubbed off by the growing moon,and the chicken sure come to roost as realisation is built.It all takes patience,a patience though learnt the hard way makes all noises of sense and triumph.

Only true love grown over a toil of patience and sweat of friendship grows into the fullness of a moon to behold.Or a sunset to gaze at with nostalgia?



Deep in my world,I am lost in my sketches of encounter,a piece I did before actually having a real encounter,a tangible one that is.Now I look and it seems prophetic,even dejavourish,like I had had the encounter all within myself.

The encounter itself,borne from nothing but a play in mind.And then from the looming shadows,filled with fear and uncertainities,filled with consternations and broken pasts,all lost in trials and traits of heart-aches,no,the encounter cannot be possible let alone imaginable.

Filled with fear,fear from past mistakes and constant failures,the encounter looks far-fetched,not even closely warranted at this very moment and not welcome in the slightest bit.

I reflect on the sketches;That boring start,sure was boring,who woulda thought it would bear any fruits?then come the thoughts through the night,a nation on foot that led to a walking or working nation,I was on it,three hours in traffic on a stretch of 5meters;the perils of my city and lack of planning though…

Good side to this though is that the sketches of life came to play,an amazing sketch that took me deep into life as it is with all its flaws and I sure learnt to look beyond the flaws as portions of beauty playing intricately.This led me to break the chains and see the wonders beyond the eyes,into a world of possibilities,into believing everything was possible.I then meet the sketches from my past with grandma and her fireside stories;tales which lead to the uncertain death of a hunter.

A death which builds an amazing growth within and leads to the birth of the sketches which I would certainly call my own.

In times gone I find myself in a coffee house,same place am at right now,I would have done the same spot but different is sometimes good,creates more memorable moments even in the midst of obscenities.In this same place I found a tirade of sketches,those of diversity,the diversity that we are so scared of but makes us who we are.

This same scary diversity leads me to encounter,in the outskirts of the city and down in the Mara I find myself.I go through travel chronicles,chronicles that happen quite after the glint within is discovered.A glint that fills an empty space with hope and joy,with visions and aspirations.

The glint’s discovery takes route and sure form after a dance with fate at the embers by the fireside.An amazing evening at the Mara that was,you are present but lost in your wiles at the same time,lost in thoughts only embodied in laughter and stares into the dark skies amazingly lit by constellations,of stars and hope,a jump into a new beginning.

So am seated here and it makes sense,why all the sketches piled up together;why my life will always be sketches,why sketches amaze me more than flawlessness,more than make-up and lipstick,more than perfect hair and well manicured nails and toes;why the very chips and skin breakages are such an awe to me.

I now realise that it is these same sketches that mould together into what God has in store for me.They define my every moment.

These sketches led me to this encounter,I would call it the encounter of a lifetime but PePa won’t let me for flow of plot.This though is an encounter of self discovery;discovery series huh?

A discovery that my past doesn’t define my present and not even my future.A realisation that the sketches help build an unbreakable foundation,that through them I shall not see my past as broken but my present as laid on foundations of rock and steel.

So am no longer scared of the encounter,for this encounter just as or based on the sketches is the beginning of something good.Though I could be scared or almost give up,now I see,now I realise that my scars they don’t seem to matter anymore,my sketches led me right here to this very point.

Now I know that it’s gonna take sometime as a friend once told me.I have to admit that the thought has crossed my mind and this might end up as it should.So at this point I got to say what I need to say,and hope to God that it don’t scare you away,still I don’t want to be misunderstood but am starting to believe that this could be the start of something good.

PePa nods in affirmation so am going to cross my fingers and wait to see.


TRAVEL CHRONICLES :-Sketches after the embers

So from the waves of the previous night,a rusty dusty ride down the broken roads enjoined by portions of murram and in some cases,pieces of tarmac.This as I learn originates from tarmacadam and man don’t I feel learned at this point?If only I din’t miss that single history class on Industrial revolution and it’s propagaters.

Oh and before I loose me in my excitement,tarmacadam is basically the surfacing material made from combining marcadam surfaces.Materials which in my opinion are a rare commodity in this part of my world,or maybe there lack of is of aesthetic essence,but what do I know un-classed me?

A retort to the same brings me to the realisation that a great safari is entailed in brisks of discomfort,dust and sometimes even a broken bridge.After all,this is Africa and we doing the Mara,right?

The ever keen tour guide cum driver even quips in that a drive down this road in the rainy wakes warrant a push and tag at the trucks.Now this is a total 3-D video image in my mind and my excitement rides high.Call it mud-lust if you may.

It is a drive that bumps our now sore behinds,our eager eyes and ears for any new vision not giving any air-time to the pain of the bump.A worthy drive I must admit.

Gulleys are common and by now they have gotten my eyes and mind used to them,even missing them when there are non visible to snap.

The caravan heads deep into the wild and beauty unfolds in arrays of health and life all in a race to win.Lazy gazelles feed aimlessly like the lions and leopards not to mention the crazy racing cheetahs lurking in the bushes are no threat to them.But this is the wild and everything can change from calm to crazy.A constant watch out for survival.

Survival did I mention?Am reminded my arms shouldn’t be hanging out the van as this would attract lions;for a moment sounds like even lions have joined “Team Mafisi” out here in the wild.But still I could have heard wrong so don’t take my word for gospel truth now?After all we have all heard of false prophets huh?But am no prophet so lets get wild buddies.

Still staring at these lazy gazelles I realise why they all got nowhere to go;this is a freaking harem,one male and a frenzy of 40 female or more.Too exciting as a single female straying off the harem is hunted down,sorry chased down to submission by the male who brings her back to the flock.If only men could have this same privilege then there would be no cheating.

And did I mention a male fights to the point of losing a horn or both just to lead a harem?Hahah true display of politics in the wild,difference is that after they win they still protect their catch.

My friend Morena at this point is so excited and has in her books a favourite gazelle.Am sorry guys for me only the harem is a marvel so I quickly forget the name of her favourite gazelle whose under thighs have grey beautiful markings alongside a splash underbelly and majestic horns.Give me credit for the description if the picture comes to life.

So on we go as the terrain remains nothing but lustrous and captivating.The kind I would have wished to write stories about back in primary school of my hunting escapades during the holidays;I mean the whole composition would have been a description of the terrain with a last bit of a chase of the hair down the valley with no catch achieved.

Pepa stares as I loose trail but back to the present terrain is a stretch of greenness mixed with dry bare-barked trees along the banks…such an irony but all the same captivating to the eye.The van sunroof must sure go off at this point as the view is intense.I call to Brian who is busy engaging the driver at the front.The dad he is he tells us to enjoy the view as it will not last forever.True to his words this view is taking every effort at leaving me breathless.

So down we head and right ahead lies a caravan watching down at a pride tired from the days heat.At this point Giovanni remembers the lions he has seen in zoos and sure these look quite healthy out in the wild.No wonder wild things are attractive.One lion charges at the car as if to attack and he runs to the end of the van.We all laugh as we remember him saying he would outdo the morans in fighting with the lion.

And what a set of teeth these beasts have,I pity the lazy gazelles mating and chasing down each other just across the ravine.

I am still in awe as these beasts are sure casanovas.When I thought all they do is eat and eat and run and chase and eat and sleep.Down the savannah are two buddies,a lion and lioness hot on it.A view to behold.For a moment I actually thought they love better than humans.And do you know what makes them even worse Casanovas?They would actually kill the cabs of a lioness to get her back on heat and get some…Who even does that?But these Kings of the jungle do.

The drive is nothing words can explain as this view marks the highlight of our day,it is evening and we have to take another drive back the dusty but amazing road.An epitome of nostalgic beauty..

The birds sing their last as they return to their nests in a display of magnificence.A cloud of them if not in a form of net up in the skies.Nothing can beat this view save for the heart-warming sunset over the horizon.A view that reminds Pepa of the true essence of the Mara.

So to camp we go as we await the rise of another dawn with a promise of dizzy joy.