Monthly Archives: July 2020

WHAT HAVE WE DONE? Sketches of a Nairobi inhabitant pt4.

I can never get enough of all this beauty bursting right before my eyes. It always all seems like I was born specifically to enjoy all this amazing flow at a time such as this.


A time with no world wars one, two, and even the three that I all missed. A time with no cold wars or Spanish flu. A time with no Hitlers or Nazis with brutal force against the world and more against the Jews. A time in Africa when in a small country at the far East quaked colonialism and utter dehumanisation. When loyalties earned you hate rather than favour and love among your kinsfolk.


So here I am today and looking up above, I am lost in the beauty and drowned in utmost gratefulness at all that is at my disposal. And yes, it is almost but not impossible for me to get enough of the clouds that constantly gather above my head. The beauty in which they collect in waves in a thick grey is overwhelming as the wind almost always guides them to the same spot above my balcony.


See I cannot even bring myself to get enough or even miss this rhythmic sway of the bluegum trees as the wind swings them into a seductive dance of grace. Foul me if I yet miss the sweet cold breeze upon my cheek and tip of my almost round nose. Yes, that would be an oh so sorrowful error my dear treader.


The remission of the coastal beach breeze, hot and salty against my nostrils is brought to birth right here in this nostalgic fete that today’s elements play across my heart.


Yet in a moment as ecstatic as this; when the cars across the road flicker through in yellow, white and red light jingle, when the sun races fast down the Western horizon and the apartment lights flick on, my heart almost comes to a halt when this beautiful weakening flow takes me back to a moment in time so distasteful yet which must tap through my trails with PePa.


He is caught in the regular evening traffic, so ironical we have even deemed it regular and a part of us we must always race with it and even live with it. More like bedmates you may call it.


So my friend here from Dendi creations, in an attempt to let time not eat the best of him through traffic decides to engage his heart in the ruminations of the day. In the wake and drift of his mind, his eyes, unfortunately, tend not to miss the play that unfolds right before him.


Protruding muscles across his lean arms and a river of sweat across his brow were a thing of awe. The setting sun did much to radiate his glistening bare chest as he heaved his way in a race against time and through the heavy jammed traffic. His athletic legs draped in tattered shorts paced in a co-ordinated pace along the tarmac road as his heavy-lad cart had no option but to follow through in his pull.


A yellow-striped green commuter bus drives fast closeby as the tout swings dangerously through the open door. It is almost as if life has always been too boring for these touts that they chose to play flirt games with danger or even tempt death at how untouchable they are.


In most unpleasant reports, however, have such flirtations been met with an angered and famished death who so easily took their daring souls with her. I mean, how do you swing and even crouch low off a huge commuter bus moving at a death provoking speed along a narrow alley or busy highway and expect to get away with it unscathed let alone alive? `


So this death-flirting citizen swinging off the bus, on seeing the cart tracker, shouts abusively at the hard-working citizen trying to make a penny or two for his beautiful loving family waiting at home.” Hey there, get your poverty out of the way!” translated in Swahili as,” Wee bwana, toa umaskini kwa barabara”. Meanwhile, the commuter bus driver honks loudly at him to get off the road, whereto? both my friend and I have no idea of.


Okay, on hearing these words am taken aback as I, for once lose the meaning of poverty and miss the distinction between poverty and riches or wealth if it counts. But to take the meaning more literally again, between these two, the cart tracker and the swinging tout, I thought the cart tracker was richer than the tout, I mean if maths didn’t depart from my fingertips so long ago.


The truth, however, if you asked me is that non of these two are poor in whatsoever way if they are honest with their work and work for the best interests as supposed. My senses break at this point as right beofore my friend’s eyes plays the very act of why we fail as human beings for we have but lost the sense of being. We have brought distinctions among ourselves and lost all reason or sense of living.


Africa kills her sun, I guess is what plays right before his eyes. The death of a citizen by a citizen and for the citizen. Instead of uplifting and encouraging one another and deeply realising that we all need each other and are equals from the start, we have discriminated against one another. Yet we are the same people who will go up in riots through the streets when a fair-skinned human has a go at a dark-skinned human. I mean, didn’t we hand them the rifle in our discriminatory hearts and acts already? Why then do we riot when they bring out our initial inhibitions openly?


In this movie called Adu, this one policeman says that the problem with humans and Africans for that matter is that when they see the west erect a wall, all they see is that the west is selfish and wants to prevent them from crossing over. A worse bit is that they see the barricador as hiding treasure and better opportunities on the other end yet the truth is that, the barricador knows, that he has problems of his own he needs to solve within his walls and you too need to stay on your end of the wall and solve your own problems.


The question, however, is that how will the African solve his own problems when he already hates himself and his neighbour so much so that he deems him more inferior when the truth is that there is no distinction between them. We can’t preach water and drink wine I guess, not that wine is bad but if drank alone then what is the pleasure in that?


Returning to our tout loose tongue and cart tracker, the movie has not seen its end yet till the cart tracker now with bloodshot eyes and using his left hand to wipe away the flooding sweat across his face looks up; having been forced to squeeze himself to the end of the road and now with one cartwheel railing over the pedestrian walk, he is angered and staring threateningly at the commuter bus driver asks him a most humiliating question, ”Unapigia mama yako horn?”Ā  to mean,” Are you hooting at your mother?”


Well, well, well. I won’t be the judge of no persons at this very point but the name mother has so been used variably as a mother still remains supreme despite all odds. The same name coming in handy as the most humiliating insult anyone could ever use on another. The same insult has been seen to bring down even the greatest rulers of all time. I think it prodes right at the core of the animal within us and leaves us all as baseless animals, right? Such were my friend’s sentiments and yet if asked, I am stuck at the derogative nature of the insult and lack of respect for mother’s supremacy.


Yet still, the same name, mother, is seen within us when we are at the end of our wits, huh? When we see darkness come upon our lives we will always call unto our mothers first. Take for example the most current happening in the US when a man was kneed down to death he could all but call for his mother for help.


My friend, however, with so much concern, still wonders what deeply motivated the cart tracker to think that the deepest language he could ever use to restore calm and re-assert himself as an equal road user needed to have a woman’s name in it?


Morals maybe? I for one will honestly not be able to get the correct answer to that sincere concern, what of you my dear treader?


Yet still, what have we done to our morals and self-esteem but flushed it down the drain quick? Why have we taken the words,” Love your neighbour as yourself,” and misinterpreted it for lack of love at all since we don’t even know who our neighbour is? The ball remains in your court I guess.


As narrated through the eyes of Dendi creations partner with the help of PePa through the sketches of life.


PePa: The Sketches Of Life.



SATURDAY CASCADES: Sketches Through My Day.

Amazing sky glazed day on the 18th of July. Note how fast time flies by, not determined by whether you began at the top or the bottom? The day still comes by and sure freezes your skin to a good 15 degrees Celcius.


Such is the day that graces my equatorial bearings of the hemisphere. In most cases such as this, I would recall a friend say that this is a bad looking day, but is it really? The little drizzles cascading my heavens assure me that despite all, the heavens aren’t yet closed and still will bring tranquil in the deepest of turmoils.


The public buses and minibusses compete to be first to get to town along the road and their blaring hoots and counter-hoots fill the roads and airs in unison. All in a rush to make the best of what little is available. The pregnant mother crossing the road ahead holding their three-year-old goes almost unnoticed as the heat of the rush rises. The yellow-lined green commuter bus misses her with a whisker as the bystanders are all but amused as they get back to their chores. Always more to rush for than stop and notice. Not to miss the fast speeding oncoming blue Subaru Impreza.


Over on the left side of the road stands one lady shouting tomato prices as the one seated quips in with potato prices. All sounds like a well-choreographed chorus only devoid of an orchestra. Their tempo however most certainly deludes you of what wares they actually are vending. Most times it fills up to noise within the soul as the wetting durst under their feet binds into a clumping mud.


As I was making the entry into the main road, I almost wondered if my apartment had shifted during the night as the sides of the main road lay in heaps of soil from earthmovers. Probably came in to work during the night amidst the 9pm curfew. Most of the roadside bandas too lay a waste and in their places stand table mats of groceries.


Man must live I guess and the quest for more money to feed the emptying tummies never ends. The disorganization however remains a menace to worry about. The commotion is at its heights as even the so required sanitization and desired hygiene levels stand wanting. Face masks rarely worn, at this point, looks more of an accessory than a necessity as what really matters is that extra coin to heavy the deep pockets and ease the pangs of hunger that so creeps the tummy.


Not one to point fingers yet at the same time I know not how to ignore the things that light creep into my eyes and with such course, seep into my conscience. These are the facets in our daily lives that stand untended yet must remain of utmost consideration as we all need a living despite the pandemic ripping through our nations.


There still lays a task force established to deal with local business enterprises I guess, right? And another to ensure safety and precautions during such a pandemic is uplifted and maintained too, huh? Yet despite all these being set in place, we too as citizens and individuals still stand accountable for our actions I presume?


We might have a government in place but yet we too remain as our own police task right here on the ground I suppose. Well then, my commute leads me right into the traffic packed CBD, quite strange for a Saturday morning but yet again, man must live. But with all these people packed within the CBD, why is business so slow with it?


If only I could have studied demographic flows versus business trends in tandem, such economic shifts would make more sense to me. Here we are though, a stringent Saturday morning and cold day with it yet my heart still flows with brimming joy. call it using lemons to make lemonade rather than having a choking bitter pill of the same.


Before my rumblings roll over, how are you my dear treader? Enjoying your Saturday from your end? Make the best of it and let every joy that comes by not sift through your fingers.


Stay blessed and stay safe.


PePa : The Sketches Of Life.



NOTHING TO LOSE: The sketches of choices.

Ten feet tall and bulletproof, I never thought that I had a thing to lose, but it looks like after all, am gonna have to choose…


Sometimes and in most cases have I found my back against the wall with little to no choices at all. But in all these moments has one thing stood out tall and that is; I have always had a choice however limited they have been. It is my vision of these choices and the dimension from which I view them that has always been limited and not the choices themselves as truth be told, limited choices still are choices, right?


Let us pick an example for instance of PePa who has a crushing workload ahead of his day. His alarm goes off at 6 in the morning and before he can even say grace and be thankful for his day, he remembers all the chores and targets he is supposed to meet ahead. Instead of this being a motivation for him to rise up, it instead becomes the very slump that crashes his heart to naught. He struggles to rise off his bed and all his nerves cry foul. Like someone struck them all down with a sledgehammer and from him are all wits departed.


Most of us if asked would say that PePa has no choices left as his day is already a slump to begin with. Still, you will go on to elaborate on how much bills he has to pay and difficult situations his day has ahead of him today and so he has no option but to stress about it. But tell me my dear Treaders, despite the kind of day he has ahead, is stressing over it going to pull him through and make it any better?


I hear another shout that he is not stressing but rather planning ahead for it is said that failing to plan is planning to fail. Oh my dear Treader, help me stop this rage that is building within as I know that with rage so fails my cognitive brain’s train response to proper thought.


So with utmost calm and composure filled with empathy allow me to ask,” How then is PePa able to soberly plan fro his day ahead and make it better if he is all but stress-eaten out?


Aha, now I picture you falling in line with my reasoning huh? Did you however notice that PePa had a choice all from the onset of his day and with the strike of his alarm? He had a choice to wake up and being grateful for his health and breath for that day look at the brighter side of life which was that he was alive. I mean, who among us loves not being alive? Life as they said is for the living, right? And our God and maker as we all know is not a God of the dead but a God of the living, right? Want me to quote that for you from scripture? Sorry I won’t as that would only make you to lazy to open your oracles.


Now that we are together, allow me to put a tag to what fails our choices as humans. I have no idea why the human mind in all its sanity picks with so much ease all negativity over every single strand of positivity. Maybe it is because there are a thousand possible ways for a human to die (Can you imagine they even came up with such a documentary?)… Why wouldn’t they come up with one practical way to live and explain it in detail, something like always be positive, right? But we already know that so why bother with the details, huh? Because the devil as they say lies in the details, but I never seen him so I wonder why we give him so much credit after all. truth is that there is never no devil in any details but deeper truths and power in whatever we give eminence in our hearts and minds.


There was a beautiful sunrise this morning right before the clouds took phase to cover the golden beauty. The same grey clouds have hang on for the most part of the day rendering a once-promising warm day to total cold and freeze. Despite this rather gloomy effect, my heart has not stopped beating and my skin seems to glow with beauty protected from the scorching sun’s rays by the same grey clouds. They say that PePa prefers to call a glass half full rather than half empty but just in case you never noticed…. A hand only has to be open and empty for it to be able to grasp or even receive more for that matter.


So you see my dear Treader all I have done so far is to take you through a tread of choices? And this is just but the glimpse into choices as many lay ahead with an ardent truth that it all begins with and from you.


So then, in an ocean full of troubled waters and darting alligators will you choose to see danger or to see food in the midst of a drought? The choice sure is yours. But in a world full of negativity and unending pain, why don’t you choose to be the joy, love, and kindness that the world so needs and bleeds for?


Until next time, allow me to peek out and see if any stars will twinkle back at me through the dark grey clouds.


PePa: The Sketches of Life.

HAVE I BEEN AWAY TOO LONG? sketches of appreciation.

Trying to leave the lights on when am gone, something I rely on to get home, when its cold at night you can look inside, you won’t feel so alone? Listening to this song at the moment from David Cook and the lyrics hit me deep.

I am now wondering if I have been gone away too long, and if I have neglected my genuine followers up here and with it left no light on when gone? Far be it from me to be so ungrateful.

I have always known that these posts might only reach a few, sometimes only one or even two persons but then, when I started writing I didn’t think even a single person would take their time to even read a single piece.

I was then very encouraged when my close friends started reading and even giving suggestions on what they think I should write about. This was a gesture for me that writing and expressing my deep thoughts was never really about me from the onset of the sketches of life.

I realised right then that the sketches were never really mine in the first place. That these sketches I was so passionate about spoke deeper truths of each and most of us and from hence, I got a deeper desire to reach more and more people.

One such sketch inspired thus was THE PARADOX WITHIN: Sketches at the airport suggested and inspired by Dave, my all-time friend, and confidant. With it came a mix of nostalgia and melancholy. You can check it out here in case you haven’t.

So sitting here and listening to David Cook chyme slowly with a song from 10 years back, it revives my love for soft rock within and fills my heart with appreciation for all of you guys who have genuinely followed and supported me through the sketches.

Another such friend is Morena, of course Dave’s espoused. She diligently read through my first pieces as if they were her own, even going to the extent of suggesting the vulnerability with which she thought I should write. Of course she got busier with time and could only read less and less.

I will be selfish to forget other genuine blogger followers and just to mention but one from the many is my big brother Richard who blogs in I found his choice of blog name quite inspiring as it represents his huge American sky and he writes like the watcher of those beautiful skies above filled with inspiration and unrelenting love.

I will be rather selfish if I miss out on these young and talented poets from the East and especially India like

who has very thoughtful poems.

To match her writing style are :who inspires your inner artist with his live sketches. Another interesting blogger is this funny

Note irony in his blog name?

Sue W amazes me with her farm backyard stories.. While some of yus thought staying in the countryside was a streak of poverty, she will awe you with the little beauty that nature spruces behind her back… Now we know better. Check her out here


Well, these are some of the few bloggers I don’t like missing. Others too are amazing and truth is I can’t list all of them in a single post as I would have way too many links in one go. Blurring to the eyes that would be, right?

Wondering why I am doing this post? Wonder no more because it was all about appreciation to both followers and fellow bloggers. Imagine living in a world where no one appreciated you even once in a blue moon, how sad could that be knowing that even blue moons don’t exist but is just a metaphor ? Sad, right?

This post is hence all about deep-seated gratitude and to inform you that I haven’t gone and forgotten but been half sick and half working on my YouTube blog at the same time. Some of you know much about pepasketches on YouTube but most am sure have no clue.

The point as always has been about reaching as many people as possible and some if not most of us being lazy readers, I thought a YouTube channel would work best for those who say seeing is believing.

Does that in turn make us a faithless generation? haha, I will not answer that as I know not what happened to the doubting Thomas till he had to see and touch the scars on Jesus’ palm. Not saying that you are a doubting Thomas but who doesn’t love visuals to quip the hoarseness of an African voice? Haha, before i get over myself right there, hit this link below and please subscribe and comment.

You can also start by watching the latest post in this link I called a walk through the storm

You know what to do of course if you love what you see, right? Share share share and let everyone enjoy this pie that is the sketches of PePa.

Well, I might have become a bit rusty after three weeks without writing hence I think I should stop at this point as I may go on to add clutter as Dave and Morena would put it.

Since however am in a spirit of thanksgiving and appreciation, I would like to appreciate a friend called Christine who assisted with the design of the YouTube channel into something presentable. It might not look like much but its beauty lays in the kindness behind her gesture. Hit me up for her contacts in case you need such help, doesn’t matter which part of the world you are in as she helped me with it being miles off from where I was at.

Over and above all, God has been faithful in my life and has kept me all this time. Been ill twice and now I feel perfectly healthy. I thank God for His health giving kindness.. Oh and Dave and Morena feeding me through last weekend like a spoilt baby. Evah, you thought I forgot your generous lunch hamper, huh? You was and are a blessing. Lady in red you too have been amazing, taking such a big baby to hospital is no mean fete… Be blessed.

Just in case you thought the sketches were gone, nope, the sketches are a part of us so we will sketch on through life.

In case you feel like I should touch on any personal narrations, be free to hit my email or if you got my personal cell, just buzz me up. Together let us live each moment life presents us.

Until next time my dear Treader, adios from PePa and be blessed.

Remember to love others if you love God for what is love for God whom we don’t see if we don’t love our friend, brother, neighbour or stranger whom we see?

Be real.

PePa The Sketches Of Life.