Cock And Bull

• What Is In A Name, Really?

  Posted: November 21, 2008, 2:28 pm by Administrator

  My Mom joined a church sometime ago that is headed by a woman who has the gift to ‘see’. And recently at the behest of my parents, I agreed to pay her a visit. When I went to her place, we had a chat and this is what she told me: that my given name ‘Njuguna’ has a curse associated with it. The reason is because of the history of the man that I am named after; my grandfather from my mother’s side. He had two wives, and my grandmother was the second. The first wife was so bitter that she consulted powers of the darkness and in the process putting a curse on all the ‘Njuguna’ that will come in the lineage of her rival. She said that the curse has the power to affect the lives of all those named ‘Njuguna’ in our family negatively. I happen to be one of them.

  And so I asked the seer, what the solution would be. And she jokingly suggested that I could change my name. But then she said that in her next fasting and prayer session, she would present the issue to God for a resolution. She also instructed me on how to pray in order to break that curse – not just for me but also for the other males names ‘Njuguna’ in the family. I did as she instructed and believed that it was done. That was about a month ago.

  A friend of mine actually changed her name some time ago. She went about it through the legal system. When I asked her the reason why she changed it, she said that because it meant ‘The one who keeps going back, or going round and round’ – which is what she believes she has been doing all her life, and which she didn’t like. That is why she changed her name to one more in line with what she wants out of life. I remember that at that time, she asked me if I knew what my name means.

  What’s in a name? I would have to say everything and nothing, depending on who you are.

• Walk In The Spirit

  Posted: November 21, 2008, 2:05 pm by Administrator

  I got the following story from a friend this morning. I want to share it with you:

  Today God has taken me for a walk. It all started when I asked Him questions early this morning. “Why do you not answer my prayers?” “Why are you so silent?”…questions flowed and so did my tears. Then the answers came, not the ones I wanted to hear, but they came. He told me that Monday was still days away, it was not late…that Xmas was still a month away, so why the tears?

  Then came my frustrated answer, “Because I need reassurance God that all will be well.” And he took me for a walk…..in a ‘matatu’ on my way to town.

  The first seat I took, I felt that I had to move. And so I went and sat at the back seat where I had a view of everyone. Usually I would have reasoned that I am inconveniencing others by changing seats but I didn’t. A few minutes later, a lady entered the ‘matatu’ and she was wearing a blouse similar to mine which got lost months ago. I was even convinced it was the one. It was a unique blouse and all I was thinking about was that I needed to check one little mark and confirm it was indeed mine.

  Then the voice came to me again and started a revelation by answering some of my most persistent questions to God: “How do I know that you will answer my prayers? How do I know I am not doing this in vain?”

  He told me this; “Just listen to your heart, for your mind sometimes will work against you by starting to have reasons and logic. When you pray or do something and in your heart it feels right, then it is right. There should never be reason to question your actions if they feel right in your heart. You will just know it.” And for the first time in many days, I felt that whatever I was doing was right, that He is listening to me….I felt it in my heart.

  Then came the reassurance I had asked for: He made me realize that He has our life story before we even start living it. By taking the case of the blouse, he made me see sense. When I was given the top, I had sawn it at the back using a very bright thread which was visible against its black color. And all the time I considered re-sewing it with black thread, but I did not bring myself to do it. So, that bright thread was today going to help me identify this blouse. “You see, months ago when you sew the blouse with the bright thread, you had no idea why you did it, but I did, for I knew this day would come….and this is the same way that I know your life story. You may not know why some of these things happen today this way, but they happen for your life story to be. And you should not worry, for I know your future.” As I alighted from the ‘matatu’, the blouse didn’t seem to be important anymore, for the lessons I have learnt are worth much more.

  You may not understand my point or story, but it was the most amazing thing I have ever experienced. The conversation and the walk in the spirit.

• A Favorite Shirt

  Posted: November 21, 2008, 1:43 pm by Administrator

  My favorite shirt has a plain beige color, is short sleeved and has a light material. It is not my most expensive and neither is it at the top of my most spectacular outfit list, but still I often choose it over all my other shirts. And this is because it is just right for Nairobi on a sunny day. Unlike the long sleeved shirts, it enables me to directly feel the sunlight on my forearms and unlike the heavier shirts, I like the way it allows the air to circulate over my upper body.

  For God to use you, you do not require to be very smart, or wealthy, or good looking. For when God has work for you, you are the right person for the job. When God uses you, it might seem like you have to go through more trouble than other people. That just means that He needs to sanctify you a little bit more than others – just as a favorite shirt goes through more washing that all the other shirts.

• Being Straightened

  Posted: November 21, 2008, 1:18 pm by Administrator

  When I picked up the shirt that I wanted to wear today, it was creased and needed to be straightened out. And so I rigged up a temporary ironing station by spreading a towel on top of my dining table, and plugged the iron box into the socket. As the iron box was heating up, I laid out the shirt on top of the towel and was soon passing the hot box over the shirt. With each pass, the material would flatten and all the creases would magically disappear. And as I passed the iron box over the shirt and in different sections, I could see it transforming into what I wanted.

  As I thought about what I was doing to the shirt, I realized that this must be what God does with us each day we come to Him. When the many cares of the day crease our spirits, the temptation we cannot resist creases our resolve, the doubts that creep upon us crease our faith, and the disappointments of life crease our hope, God is there to straighten us out using the hot iron of his word, our prayers, and communion with Him. And as I ironed one shirt after another, I realized that the different types of cloth required different treatment in order to be straight. Some were easy and required minimal heat, while some were tough and required the iron box to be set to maximum heat. Some stubborn ones even needed to be sprinkled with water in order to straighten. Isn’t this just like the days that we have? In some days all our affairs are in order and our interaction with God is easy, some days are flaky and we need to spend a bit more time presenting our grievances to God, other days are simply unmanageable and we surrender and break down in His presence. Whatever the day might be like, He is capable of straightening us out, just as I managed to straighten out all those different clothes this morning.

• The Parable of the Fern and the Bamboo

  Posted: November 20, 2008, 7:12 pm by Administrator

  The Parable of the Fern and the Bamboo
  - Author Unknown

  One day, I decided to quit. I wanted to quit my job, to quit my relationships, to quit my spirituality; I even wanted to quit my life. I went to the woods to have one last talk with God. “God”, I said. “Can you give me one good reason not to quit?”

  His answer surprised me. “Look around”, He said. “Do you see the fern and the bamboo?”

  “Yes”, I replied.

  “When I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, I took very good care of them. I gave them light. I gave them water. The fern quickly grew from the earth. Its brilliant green covered the floor. Yet nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.”

  “In the second year the Fern grew more vibrant and plentiful. And again, nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.”

  “In the third year there was still nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit.”

  “In the fourth year, again, there was nothing from the bamboo seed. I would not quit.”

  “Then. in the fifth year a tiny sprout emerged from the earth. Compared to the fern it was seemingly small and insignificant. But just 6 months later the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall. It had spent the five years growing roots. Those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive. I would not give any of my creations a challenge they could not handle.” He said to me.

  “Did you know, my child, that all this time you have been struggling, you have actually been growing roots? I would not quit on the bamboo. I will never quit on you! Don’t compare yourself to others. The bamboo had a different purpose than the fern. Yet they both make the forest beautiful. Your time will come,” God said to me. “You will rise high”.

  “How high should I rise?” I asked.

  “How high will the bamboo rise?” He asked in return.

  “As high as it can?” I questioned.

  “Yes.” He said, “Give me glory by rising as high as you can. And remember.. I will never leave you, nor forsake you. I will never give up on you. I will never, ever quit on you.”

• Just For A Moment

  Posted: November 20, 2008, 7:08 pm by Administrator

  Up till now, I haven’t been able to post anything about my Grandmother’s passing away until today despite the fact that it happened at the beginning of July. Perhaps acknowledging it here will make it more real, and maybe I still wanted to hold on to her for a little bit longer.

  On the day that she died, a group of family members met at a restaurant in town. We just sat there and felt safe in each other’s company. By then, the initial crying had passed and we were just testing the new life without the person that all of us had known all our lives. We all felt a little lost – like the first day at high school – but we knew that we would be fine. Nearly all her children were in that meeting and they were teasing me about being a brother to them rather than a nephew. They remembered that despite the fact that she was my grandmother, she would sometimes say jokingly that she gave birth to me late in life. I had not had the need to cry that day, until my auntie remarked that I was now an orphan – just like her and her siblings. And in an instant, the tears came and flooded every part of my being. I was in a public place surrounded by people, but that did not matter at all. I cried so hard that I had to blindly walk out and sit in the car for a while.

  The tears were bitter. The loneliness was total. The loss was overwhelming. I had lost people who are close to me before, but it always felt like a dream that I would wake up from eventually. However, this felt very real; that I was now an orphan. And this is despite the fact that both my parents are alive!

  Soon I composed myself and went back to the meeting.

  It was a very brief moment that I knew what it felt like to be an orphan. And still, I cannot even tell if that is the worst of it or not. Only God knows! And so right now, my prayer goes out to God to console and take care of every single orphan in the world.

• Difference In Architecture

  Posted: November 20, 2008, 5:34 pm by Administrator

  Can you remember how Safari Park Hotel used to look like before it was remodeled to its present design? Neither can I, but its “makuti” fashion was so successful that many other public venues that were put up after the hotel became little replicas of the Safari Park. I suppose the reason is because the design is home grown, attractive, low cost, well ventilated, and makes very good utilization of space. In case you are not familiar, the “makuti” design consists of a circular building whose structure is primarily made from logs, with a roof that is grass thatched. Actually, it is simply a modification of the most common African traditional building; a circular structure made from wood and earth, capped with a conical roof made from grass and sticks. It is a good thing that the traditional style was modernized otherwise the circular grass thatched hut was on its way to extinction as we embraced the European cubical design made from stone, concrete, cement and glass.

  But I suppose the basic need that any habitation – may it be circular, cubical, or pyramid, whether it is made from stone, mud, or paper – is shelter. No matter what your house looks like, you will retire there tonight for shelter. And so will the Bedouin in the desert retreat inside his tent for shelter, just as the caveman who lounged in his cavern eons ago was seeking shelter.

  What about religion? The Christian, Moslem, Buddhist and Animist all have different worship systems and yet all of their members are searching for the same thing – spiritual nourishment. Religious tolerance is similar to the man in the cubical stone house respecting his neighbor who still lives in a circular grass thatched house. At the end of the day, both these people want to be protected from the rain, the sun, and dangerous animals that prowl the night, just as worshipers from different religions just want to commune with their exalted Supernatural Beings.

  Is Christ the only way to God? Yes! That’s a definite yes if that is the core of your religious belief. Is Allah the only one to be worship and none other? Yes! That’s a definite yes if that is the core of your religious belief. Does Ngai reside at the top of Mount Kirinyaga? Yes! That’s a definite yes if that is the core of your religious belief. How about the others who do not believe in the same Supernatural Being that we do? Think of the dirty destitute man who lives at the corner in his temporary cardboard house or perhaps an Eskimo in an igloo and ask yourself, “Why does he live there instead of a house like mine?” And you might realize that the reasons why people have different religions are similar to the reasons why they have different kinds of habitations.

• Salvaging Important Words

  Posted: November 20, 2008, 3:14 pm by Administrator

  One of my friends was recently telling me about the tremendous gains that he has witnessed since he joined the crusade for sensitizing people about HIV/AIDS many years ago. One of the greater achievements he mentioned is that of reduced stigma and discrimination on people affected. And as we talked, I remembered how absolutely terrifying HIV and AIDS was in the 1990s. That was the time when the government was involved in a vigorous campaign to publicize the negative effects of the scourge. Everywhere you looked – on posters, billboards and on TV – you would see images of AIDS sufferers – emaciated, sickly, sack of bones, and the clear message in big, bold, blood red letters proclaiming that AIDS killed. In the absence of anti retroviral drugs, being diagnosed as being HIV positive spelled death, and the government campaign made it very clear what kind of death to expect. And so, people were terrified of being diagnosed with HIV and were anxious that no one close to them would be positive.

  The message was clear – abstain from sex or use a condom, and be faithful. That was when I was in college and it came at a time red hot passions prevailed over reason. As a result, I had cause to be very worried each time I saw the posters or the TV advertisements. The fear made going for a test unfathomable and every small loss in weight, every skin infection and every cough triggered some panic. I was even afraid to seek treatment since the greatest fear at the time was that I might be tested and found to be HIV positive.

  The new millennium brought good tidings and not only did the government change its message to, “HIV/AIDS is not a death sentence”, anti retroviral drugs became readily available, people were now more open about the issues surrounding HIV/AIDS and going for a test was highly recommended. When I eventually gathered the courage to go for a test, it freed me from a terror I cannot quite be able to explain here and I was able to fully appreciate the saying, “The truth sets you free.”

  However, it was after the discussion with my friend that something came up that I had never thought of before. I realized that I am still averse to the word “positive”. The reason is because each time I encounter the word “positive” my mind unconsciously associates it with “HIV” – i.e. “HIV positive”. Incidentally, the word “positive” is currently appearing a lot in self development materials, which I am a fan of. This is an important discovery because every book I have read recently talks about being “positive” in this and being “positive” in that. If my mind associates being “positive” with the image of a dying person emaciated to the bones, would I really want to be “positive” regardless of how much sense it makes? This means that I need to re-evaluate the association in my mind of the word “positive” as soon as possible in order to benefit from this incredibly powerful word.

  Another useful word that is most probably being injected with negative connotations is “growth”. There has recently been a lot of talk about “growth” when referring to cancer. October was breast cancer month and there was a lot of talk on radio about “growth”. This might not make much sense to every reader but to a person who has encountered the trauma of cancer, he or she might unconsciously cringe inside each time they hear the word being used. Being that these words will continue being used in a negative context once in a while, the only thing that a person can do is to listen with awareness so as to note any negativity that might arise. Hopefully the person can salvage the positive benefits of these useful words. I suppose that it is important for a person to reevaluate their mental dictionary once in a while and find out what various words really mean.

• Throw Your Heart Over The Bar

  Posted: November 20, 2008, 1:58 pm by Administrator

  The following is an excerpt of Norman Vincent Peale reading from an abridged version of his classic “The Power of Positive Thinking”:

  “A famous Trapeze artist was instructing his students how to perform on the high trapeze bar. Finally, having given full explanations and instruction in this skill, he told them to demonstrate their ability.

  One student, looking up at the insecure perch upon which he must perform, was suddenly filled with fear. He had a terrifying vision of himself falling to the ground. He couldn’t move a muscle, so deep was his fright. ‘I can’t do it! I can’t do it!’ he gasped.

  The instructor put his arm around the boy’s shoulder and said, “Son, you can do it, and I will tell you how.” Then he made a statement which is of inestimable importance. It is one of the wisest remarks I have ever heard. He said, ‘Throw your heart over the bar and your body will follow.’

  Heart is the symbol of creative activity. Fire the heart with where you want to go and what you want to be. Get it fixed so deeply in your unconscious that you will not take no for an answer. ’Throw your heart over the bar’ means to throw your affirmation over every barrier, throw your visualization over your obstacles. In other words, throw the spiritual essence of you over the bar and your material self will follow in the victory groove thus pioneered by your faith inspired mind. Expect the best, not the worst and you will attain your heart’s desire.”

• What’s In A Name

  Posted: November 20, 2008, 1:48 pm by Administrator

  Since the recent victory of Barack Obama in the US presidential elections, a substantial number of Kenyan parents have picked either Barack or Obama as a name for their newborns. A few have even gone the whole nine yards and named their toddlers Barack Obama. And that might seem outrageous and laughable until you pause to give it a second thought.

  What’s in a name anyway? I guess plenty considering that during the recent US presidential campaigns Obama’s middle name “Hussein” was being used against him simply because it had already been tainted by Saddam. But that aside, I have always wondered the effect the elevation to stardom of a name that one shares does to that person’s ego. When Michael Schumacher wins in a Formula One race, I believe the victory is not only for the Ferrari shareholders, but also for every person who owns a Ferrari. But what does the victory do for a person whose name is Michael? I suppose the answer can be found in the answer to the following question, “How do you feel when someone who shares your name makes a global achievement that is acknowledge in all the world media?”

  A lot of parents want to choose a unique name for their newborns. But considering that almost anyone will get thrilled when someone who shares their name has succeeded, it is understandable why it might make sense for a parent to pick a name for their newborn that is “successful” rather than one that is unique. Parents usually want the best for their children and so would hope that the name that they choose would give the child a head start in life. So why not settle for the most promising name at the time that the child is born? But then as Barack Obama proved when he referred to himself as “the skinny kid with a funny name”, there is always a first to catapult a name into fame.

• Tiri

  Posted: November 19, 2008, 6:03 pm by Administrator

  Watching the wheels of a car next to the one I am in gather momentum as it rolls fast down the hill after the lights turn green, I remember the cars that we used to build when we were young boys in the village. Those cars – carts rather – were called ‘tiri’ in Kikuyu language and were made exclusively from wood. The city version of ‘tiri’ was called ‘mbeta’ in Sheng and was made from wood and bearings.

  The frame was simple – two parallel sticks about 3 feet long were nailed together with two shorter ones to form a rectangular frame. The long sticks formed the chassis of the cart and the shorter sticks formed the front and rear axles. For wheels, we cut down a particular tree and made thin slices by cutting across the stem. We then bored off the pith of the slices to create a hole through which the end of the axle would go into the wheel. We then mounted the wheels and fastened them with the help of nails. Several other sticks were nailed to the contraption to form the sitting area and the cart was ready for the road.

  The track was a slope at the side of the hill. We would take the cart at the top and liberally smear some fresh cow dung on the wheels for lubrication. The driver would then be given a small shove and the rest was up to gravity. Getting to the bottom of the slope was a huge achievement considering that the carts had unevenly sized wheels that wobbled, and whose shapes were not necessarily circular. Despite that, it was quite a thrill that a boy wouldn’t mind carrying a scar for for the rest of his life.

• Grillz

  Posted: November 19, 2008, 5:32 pm by Administrator

  Last year, I wanted to motivate my 13 years old niece into performing better in school, and so I asked, “When you start earning your own money, what is the first thing that you will buy?” My expectation was that depending on the answer, I would make a deal with her; work harder and I will surprise you with it! But when she said “Grillz”, I almost missed a step in dismay. Luckily, good sense prevailed and I just bit my tongue to avoid commenting. Grillz?

  Grillz are a type of jewellery worn over the teeth and are fitted to the tooth impression of the wearer. They are made of metal and are generally removable. They are popular with hip hop artists and can cost anywhere from fifty dollars to thousands of dollars depending on the materials used.

  When I was young, my dad made a similar deal with me. When he asked me what I would want as a gift, I said a bicycle but he convinced me to choose a travelling bag instead. I believe he had expected something functional, but I never was quite happy with a bag as a replacement for the bicycle despite the fact that when I got the bag, I slept with it slung over my shoulder that night.

  I considered my niece’s choice quite mysterious and so I will try again soon and see if she will come up with something that I might know where to buy. I wouldn’t want to buy her a travelling bag. But Grillz!

• You As Caterpillar

  Posted: November 19, 2008, 4:53 pm by Administrator

  The caterpillar resting on the leaf stalk did not seem to be keen on being bothered. Each time I attempted to make it crawl by poking it with a small stick, it would just bristle in annoyance and then try to burrow its head inside the leaf. It was an OK caterpillar – green with two neat rows of brown dots running parallel to each other on each side of its back. Its body was ridged with each segment carrying a pair of short legs. By caterpillar standards I would say it was pretty good looking. But it was obvious that today was not one of those days that the caterpillar feels pretty. When I poked it again, it curled its head under its head as if thoroughly ashamed of its very existence as a caterpillar.

  As I left it in its misery, I knew that in a short while, it would become lethargic to a mummy as it became encased in the cocoon that would hold it until the day that it finally emerges as a beautiful butterfly. And I thought about the person who might have reached the end of the tether, and feels like he can go no further. Have you ever felt like you would want to go to a place far away where no one knows you and where there are no phones or computers and just stay there for a while? Would you envy the caterpillar that has finally reached the stage in its life where it sleeps in its pupae house as it awaits to emerge as a new creature?

  Perhaps what the caterpillar experiences physically we experience in our minds. When everything stops working and we seem to be mummified and the only thing that can wake us up again is a radical change: similar to that of the caterpillar emerging from its cocoon with a new body and wings and the ability to fly. However, just as the unenthusiastic caterpillar on the leaf stalk is not aware of what is in store for it, you also might not know that you are destined for better things soon.

• Fear Of Soap

  Posted: November 19, 2008, 4:47 pm by Administrator

  I have never seen a human being afraid of soap until last night. I was walking home and decided to stop at a grocery to buy some vegetables. The grocery consisted of a small shop that had been extended outwards with some shelves where the green vegetables were displayed. The grocery was manned by a woman who had 2 little girls; the older was about 4 years and the younger about 2 years old. As the woman was preparing the vegetables for me, the small girl was crying hysterically and her older sister was laughing. All the while, the mother would call angrily at the older daughter since it was apparent she was enjoying her sister’s misery. The poor little girl had literally plastered herself against the glass partition that formed the front wall of the small shop and when I moved closer, I saw the older sister sitting at a stool at the furthest corner of the shop holding up a bar of blue laundry shop.

  When I enquired what the trouble was, the older girl told me that her sister was afraid of soap. By then, the little girl had calmed down and was now looking at me with huge round eyes showing the relief of the brief respite that my presence was giving. “What are you afraid of?” I asked the older girl. “Snake!” she quickly replied. “Supposing I come with a snake and throw it at you. What would you do?” I asked her. “I would scream and run away!” she replied. “Would you scream and run away like your younger sister?” I asked. “Yes!” she replied anxiously. “Then why are you making your sister scream and run away with soap, if you would not like it if I threw a snake at you?” I asked. And she immediately became aware of what I was trying to make her see. I then turned to the little girl and said politely “Please give me a packet of tea,” and having observed how sales are made in the shop, she eagerly went and picked a yellow packet of tea that was at a low lying shelf. “Please give me a loaf of bread,” once again the little girl walked over to the shelf and lumbered back with a loaf of bread. “Please give me a bar of soap,” again she went over to another shelf and came with a bar of blue laundry soap – exactly like the one she was running away from. I then gave her back the soap and asked her to give it to her sister. With her unsteady gait, I watched her take the soap to her sister who extended her arms and collected the soap. By then, the mother had finished packing the vegetables, and I paid for my shopping.

  As I walked away, I was hoping that the little girl will forget that soap is something to be feared and that older girl will be kind to her sister. I was also marveling at how easy it is for a human being to acquire any new fear; it just requires for another person to teach us how to. Bearing in mind that everyone is born with only two fears– height and loud noises – how many have you acquired along the way? How many of those fears have you already unlearned? Personal growth is as much about unlearning the negative as it is about learning positive new things.

• The Nairobi Inspiration

  Posted: November 19, 2008, 2:31 pm by Administrator

  One of the reasons why walking though Nairobi is so eventful is because of all the people that you come across as you move from one place to another. You go against a current of people walking alone, walking in doubles, walking in a group, people with grim looks, others looking amused, some gesticulate to others, others gesticulate to themselves, young and old…and if you stand in one location, they flow past like a stream. One time I stood on a high floor of a building with a heavy chin on the palm of my hand weighed down by circumstances in my life. And I looked down at the river of Nairobi people as it incessantly flowed many meters below me. And I realized that with an average age of about 30 years, each one of the people walking below has had to deal with various problems for (30 years x 12 months x 30 days) = 10,800 days. The fact that each one of them was walking on their feet meant that for each of these days and for each unique problem that was encountered, there are an infinite number of solutions that have been tested and found to work. If I could just focus on finding a single of those many solutions that had already been discovered to solve each of my problems, then I would not need to hold my chin any longer.

• Knocking The Door

  Posted: November 19, 2008, 2:10 pm by Administrator

  We have an unwritten code in the office for anyone who decides to go to the toilet. The office is converted from a residential apartment and so we all share a single unisex toilet. Anyone who approaches the white wooden toilet door knocks. If there is no response from inside, that is an “all clear” sign and the person turns the lock handle and gets inside. However if the toilet is in use, it is common practice for the person using it to knock back as a signal to the other. The knocking reminds me of the following verses from The Bible’s Matthew Chapter 7:

  Ask and it shall be given to you; seek and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened to you. For each one who asks receives; and he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, it shall be opened. Or what man is there of you, if his son asks a loaf, will he give him a stone? Or if he asks a fish, will he give him a snake? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Father in Heaven give good things to those who ask Him?

• Fate

  Posted: November 19, 2008, 2:01 pm by Administrator

  How do you react when you hear the words “your fate” or “your destiny”? Many people become apprehensive and usually receive those words as ominously as they do an owl’s hoot in the bowels of a moonless night. But why, considering that fate can best be defined as ‘a person’s overall circumstances or condition in life’? True, everyone has a fate and as a matter of fact whatever you have gone through in your life has been your fate to date. Is it perhaps because fate makes us look at the future, and at the inevitable outcome of life on earth; death?

  Anyone who is afraid to face their death while they are still alive will always fear the words “your fate”. And that is regardless of how colorful their past, how satisfying their present and how bright a future they might have. What does the end of the physical life on earth mean?

• Giving And Receiving

  Posted: November 19, 2008, 1:30 pm by Administrator

  The man who sells fruits at the roadside was there as expected when I went to buy some bananas. As usual, I selected 4 bananas and gave him 20 shillings as payment. When he received the money, he said, “Pick one extra banana”, and I thought to myself, “Wow! A bonus!” With that, I looked at the various bunches of bananas and decided to pick the ripest banana I could see. The banana was rather small and its skin was dark in some area, but I was sure that inside it was still fresh.

  When the man saw the choice that I had made he said, “Please pick a better banana”, to which I said, “I want to take this one with the shortest shelf life”. Knowing that his is the kind of business where the sale of one more fruit might guarantee a square meal for a whole family, I didn’t want to take a banana that he could sell to someone else tomorrow and leave one that he might have to throw away this evening.

  I packed the bonus banana with the rest in a plastic bag, thanked him for his unusual gesture and was preparing to leave when he said, “A person does not give because he has too much. It is because of the love in his heart.”

  As I walked the short distance to the office, I turned the statement over several times in my head. I realized at once that the man who sells fruits at the roadside had just taught me several lessons. One; that it is not the gift, but the thought that matters. Second; that if I did not take it upon myself to fuss too much about the giver, I might actually receive incredible gifts from places that I might never imagine. Third; that if someone should choose to grant me greatly, I shouldn’t second guess the gesture and should accept graciously. Four; that I should find the answer to this question, “do I truly believe that I deserve the best?”

• Boy, Bug and Uncle

  Posted: November 18, 2008, 3:41 pm by Administrator

  I watched a young boy and his uncle on an evening. The boy was about 4 years old and had eyes that see everything and drink it in with the same urgency that fire fizzles up a strand of hair that falls in its flame. The uncle was in his thirties and his eyes were on his little nephew with an understanding in them that could shelter the boy like an oversized umbrella during a rain storm. And yet, both sets of eyes were glued on the TV. That is until the winged insect flew into the room through the open door and settled on the folds of the curtain hanging next to where the older man was seated.

  The boy was startled and he suddenly became alarmed since the bug landed close to where his uncle was seated. He shouted out to his uncle saying ‘Dudu! Dudu!’, in order to alert him of the imminent danger. Calmly, the uncle reached out and carefully scrapped the bug from the cloth and it fell on his open palm. The bug seemed more startled than even the boy and started clawing frantically with its many legs as it helplessly lay upside-down. The uncle then picked up the bug deliberately and without a care in the world, placed it at the top of his head. “Shriiieeeeeek!!”, the little boy went looking horrified, and “Bzzzzzzzzz!” the bug went as it tried to find its feet through the thick canopy of tough, unkempt black hair.

  When the uncle bent his head towards the little boy, the youngster’s first instinct was to scramble off the sofa, but then he seemed to gather his wits when the uncle make some incredibly comforting sounds. And when the uncle asked the boy to touch his face, then his hair, and then the bug trapped in the hair, it was with a lot of jitters and many more shrieks. And as they repeated the procedure over and over again, it turned from raw nerves to excitement. When the dazed bug eventually flew away, the duo watched it go with some hint of disappointment.

  I was later to think to myself, “Will the little boy ever be afraid of bugs again?” But then I realized that the lesson would perhaps be that it is possible for us to be weaned off our fear by watching someone we trust deal fearlessly with it, or if we may, ask for that person’s help in dealing with it.

• Hitting The Wall

  Posted: November 18, 2008, 3:08 pm by Administrator

  Good old wisdom tells us that if we come across a wall, better to find a way to walk around it than to fight it. If you ever tried to learn Karate, you might have felt adventurous at one time and punched a concrete wall. When that happened to me, I realized that my Karate was more in my head than anywhere else, since the pain was just as much as if I had never taken up Karate.

  Like a naïve Karate trainee that keeps punching a concrete wall in order to prove that he is learning, we do not have to keep hurting ourselves through making the same mistakes to prove that we can do better. Karate is not about punching concrete walls just as life is not about perfecting the art of failing. So what can be done about the walls that we encounter in our lives all the time? I suppose the most important thing is to realize what a wall is: that it is just a barrier that communicates to us that we need to take a different approach.

  A wall has nothing against us. Although a wall might seem unfeeling, it is not totally inconsiderate; walls have a door or a window through which a person can slip through. Other walls that you might encounter might give you the opportunity to practice on walking to where the wall ends, or to use your skills as a climber in order to scale the wall. All these options are available and do not require us to hurt ourselves by hitting the wall with bare fists.

• What Never Happened

  Posted: November 18, 2008, 2:34 pm by Administrator

  I really have nothing against Alex and I consider him one of the finest people that I know. And yet on more that one occasion, I have fought him with so much ferociousness that if he had fought back fairly, we most probably would not have talked as we did this morning. Alex owns a business next to my office and once in a while, he calls me to sort out his company’s computer problem.

  In our last fight, I was going home after a hard day, part of which I had spent figuring out a disgusting computer virus infection in the network. While stuck in a traffic jam, I remembered that I had given him a call earlier and he had promised to respond within 10 minutes. It was now over 2 hours later and I had just remembered that he didn’t call. And so, I turned to him and accused him of taking my work on his computer network for granted, otherwise he would have called. I even remembered several other times the same thing had happened, and I felt some real anger building inside me. And as I reminded him of all those incidents, I remembered that I had forgotten to ask him for 1,000 shillings he owed me from a past engagement. Being broke, that added to the heat of the moment and I was really going at him with all the intensity that I could muster. Fortunately, I reached where I was going and I had to disengage from fighting Alex and do something else.

  All the while, Alex did not respond - just like all the other times I had fought him. And like those times, I didn’t hear his defense. Did he forget to call like I had forgotten that he was supposed to call me? Did he forget to pay me just as I had forgotten to ask for my money? I would not know until the next time I meet him and ask.

  The reason why Alex did not defend himself is because I didn’t allow him to. You see, all that fight was happening in my head and Alex didn’t even get to know about it. As I think about it right now, I laugh at myself and think that Alex was lucky since if it were a few years ago, it might have been a big spectacular fight that would have involved punches, bruises, and the cops. Talk of a storm in a teacup! When the mind is idle, it can take a route – all by itself – that we might not even be aware it has taken. The path might be petty, debilitating, annoying, even dangerous; but how can we control it?

  A lot has been said about taming and disciplining the mind – including by all religions - , and I believe that this is a venture that each one of us should undertake seriously. The effects of a rogue mind can be summed up by the following quote by Mark Twain: I have been through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.

• Clearing The Sink

  Posted: November 18, 2008, 1:51 pm by Administrator

  If you live alone, one the important lessons that you learn is that when you leave your sink piled with dirty dishes before you go to bed, you will most certainly find the same mess when you wake up in the morning. What if you make breakfast and still do not clean up? It means that when you get back to your house in the evening, you will have a greater pile of dirty dishes to clean. Unfortunately, things do not get better since you might realize that the dirty dishes have started to smell. The longer you choose to leave the sink unattended the worse the stink becomes and the more unhappy you become with your home.

  And so it is with our hearts and the sin that accumulates there. At first it appears small – even harmless – and can easily be ignored. However as days go by and if more is added, the burden becomes murkier and heavier and makes our lives more miserable each day. What is the remedy for dirty dishes? You should preferably clean them after every cooking to ensure that you keep an orderly kitchen. What is the remedy for sin? Reconnecting with God as often as you can so as to clear any disorder that you have inside you.

• The Sweet Life

  Posted: November 18, 2008, 1:26 pm by Administrator

  Like every kid at one time, I thought that sugar was the most important thing in life. As a result, it became almost a full time job for my mother to prevent me from getting my hands inside the bowl of sugar. However, I was very adamant about my right to sweetness that I cried ‘tears of a cup’ even when she gave me food without sugar.

  One day, while I was eating my salted food with tears in my eyes, my Mom did what was rather unexpected. She unlocked the top drawer of the cupboard and pulled out the carefully hidden jar of sugar and set it before me. She then gave me a clean tea spoon and told me that I could add as much sugar to my food as I wanted. I could not believe it! As much sugar as I wanted in my food? Yes!

  And so I scooped sugar from the jar and added it to my food. I was careful to pile up the spoon just in case my mom changed her mind before I had the chance to add the next spoonful. However, she just looked at me patiently as I added the several spoonfuls and then mixed them with my ‘githeri’ until the brown soup almost turned colorless. And then with much anticipation, I tasted the first spoon. It was the worst tasting food I have ever encountered in my short life!

  When I attempted to push the food away, my mother put on her stern look and carefully informed me that unless I finished my sugar syrupped ‘githeri’ I would never eat anything else. I can’t quite remember how much time it took for me to finish the awful tasting food but even my crying ‘tears of a bucket’ didn’t move my mother. After that incident I learnt that sometimes, salt and not sugar is required to make something palatable. Needless to say, my mother and I never had any sugar related disagreements after that.

  As grown ups, the scene plays up often when God presents us with what we need, and we throw never-ending tantrums because it is not what we want. And often these disagreements come as we assert our rights to what we consider to be the sweet life. But the sweet life is not the only thing that we need. Sometimes we need some saltiness, some heat, some spice, and even some bitterness in order for us to grow as human beings. And as we go back to gladly accepting what he gives us, we realize that God always knows what is best for us at any one time.

• Terrific Tuesday

  Posted: November 18, 2008, 12:41 pm by Administrator

  Today is ‘Terrific Tuesday’ at Nandos Pizza Inn in Nairobi. That means for every pizza you buy, you get one for free! This sweet deal usually has pizza lovers queuing at the Nandos Pizza Inn’s Moi Avenue outlet till late at night.

  I can’t quite remember the first time I tasted pizza, though it is not very many years ago. I remember looking at it and observing that the legendary pizza that I had heard so much about is simply a bread-like crust covered with seasoned tomato sauce, cheese, and other toppings such as sausage or olive. However, I clearly remember the taste of the pineapple pieces embedded in the Hawaiian pizza, and my surprise that such an ingredient could be used in cooked food.

  Since then, I have often wondered, “What would pizza be without the bread-like base?” The answer to that question usually comes in a very unexpected way. Have you ever seen or heard of a person who seems to have everything – wealth, beautiful spouse, bright kids, enviable career – and yet appears deeply unhappy? That person would seem to be missing something that in not visible to the naked eye. Something that only he or she can feel, and that has been ambiguously described by many people as a ‘hole’ or ‘void’ or ‘emptiness’.

  What is it that misses in the ‘hole’, ‘void’, or ‘emptiness’? I tend to think it is love. The kind of love that I am talking about is the one that is so basic that it is easily ignored, yet so important that we cannot really appreciate life without it. It is that which makes us love ourselves, love our neighbors and love God. It is that which enables us to accept ourselves unconditionally no matter what our external circumstances are. It is that which enables us to accept our neighbors no matter how different they are from us. It is that which enables us to accept God’s grace and appreciate the myriad of things that He has done for us. This love is as critical to life’s fulfillment as the bread-like crust that creates the base of pizza.

  “What would pizza be without the bread-like base?” It would be ingredients – cheese, oregano, egg, sausage, salami, garlic, capsicum, olive – and not pizza. A relationship without this ‘love’ is simply a red hot sack of passion that burns itself out sooner or later and leaves the couple wondering how they ‘fell out of love’. Wealth without this ‘love’ results in the kind of money that can buy a ‘Bed but not sleep Food but not appetite A house but not a home ‘. A career without this ‘love’ results in a cranky larger-than-life boss who is very alone at the top of his corporate ladder. A family without this kind of ‘love’ results in a violent parent parent; one that causes the kids to sneak into their rooms in suppressed terror as soon as he gets home.

  And yet with this ‘love’ it does not matter whether we have ‘someone’ or not, whether we are wealthy or not, whether we have a job or not, or whether we fit in the society or not. Neither is it the kind of love that you can find…especially not from someone else. If you find the ‘right person’ and you lack this ‘love’ inside you already, the relationship might be as illusory as having a pound of mozzarella cheese and no bread base and still expect to come up with pizza.

  With this ‘love’ we are bound to have a terrific Tuesday whether there is a Nandos Pizzeria in out town or not.

  Have a terrific Tuesday!

• Compassion Far Away From Home

  Posted: November 15, 2008, 5:20 pm by Administrator

  Here is an email I received from a friend recently:

  Hi Ken,

  Have you ever come across racism? Has the issue ever arisen where you were concerned? When people don’t see you as a person but as a fraction of a race? Have you heard of “She’s Chinese, don’t bother she won’t understand what you’re saying”, or “He’s British, he’s a snob”?

  I have read it in books and heard about it, but until today I never had to worry about it. Many take pride in themselves by noting that they can get along with anyone, despite color or origin. And true, anyone can claim that. But when that value is tested, that’s when we know for sure.

  Today, walking home, a boy collapsed in front of me. He fell backward and at first I was looking to see if it was a movie scene being filming. I live in a town where lots of pictures get taken and filming happens all day long. However, no camera was in the vicinity and so I ran to assist. I didn’t know what to do; I wasn’t sure if he had fainted or he was dead. I removed his earphones and shoes, as I tried to gesture to people to please come and help. They were just walking oblivious of what was going on.

  How do you just walk by someone who falls backwards in broad daylight? In our modern society, have we become so pre-occupied with ourselves that we don’t see beyond our eye lids? Or are we unsure of ourselves and don’t know how to react to such situations? Or is it fear? Do we fear that we could be blamed if the person we are trying to help dies in our arms?

  Think about this; what if someone you love fainted in the street, and passersby just went on their way, and he or she died because of lack of attention, then a day later the police call you. As you listen to their details you realize if only someone had ran to you friend’s aid, their life would have been saved. You wonder how insensitive society can be!

  As I tried to get the boy some help, I went to a nearby guard house and asked the guards if they could help. They came, smiling, wanting to know - was he my boyfriend? They said I could take him to the guard house. I motioned to some young men to come and assist, they reluctantly came and we shuffled to the guard house. When the guard called first aid post, they wanted to know what race because I kept hearing him repeat “Negro”, “Negro”. There was a girl among the onlookers who knew where the boy was from, and she called someone to inform the ambassador of his country.

  It was only after he came that the first aid person made her appearance, fifteen minutes later, with bidding from the ambassador. But then she left after checking his blood pressure. We stood there, the ambassador and his assistant, the former trying to get an ambulance and me feeling guilty that there wasn’t much I could do. I stayed on, holding the boy’s keys and brief case.

  I stayed because I come from a culture where someone in need despite tribe, color, age, etc, will get assistance when they need it and because I believe in helping where I can. Well, what if one day something happened to me? What should I expect from people who still refer to darker skinned people as Negro?

  The boy was lying in the guard house for 40 minutes, he had difficulty in breathing. But since the paramedic had just made a brief appearance and left, no gas mask was available. The ambulance had not arrived. When he came to, his head pained and he didn’t know what had happened. I left at this point.

  I haven’t felt as sad in a long time. I have been sick many times, but never fainted. I felt sad for this boy, far away from home. I felt sad for all others who try to make a home in foreign lands, where acceptance doesn’t come easy, and where even writing this kind of an article might earn me the electric chair.

  ———–

  My Friend,

  That is quite a nerve racking experience!

  I do not have first hand experience about racial discrimination, but I totally agree with you when you say “Many pride themselves noting that they can get along with anyone, despite color or origin, and true, anyone can claim that but when that value is tested, that’s when we know for
  sure.”

  There are many things that people claim that they are prepared for, but never quite know how they will react until they are tested. I know that feeling different is never a comfortable feeling, but when it is constantly pointed out to us, I suppose it takes us back to lower primary school when being different was something of a novelty and something to be made fun of.

  Your story reminds me of my older sister who has been epileptic since we were kids. We used to be classmates in class 2 when she began getting the fits. Of course when that happened, other children would look at me, and I would feel very helpless, especially since in most cases, all of them would back away and I would be expected to attend to her. Even today, I can tell you by name all those kids who used to laugh at her and call her nicknames and how bad it made me feel. I often wonder how much worse my sister must have felt. Most of the times, I just used to pray that she doesn’t get an epileptic fit. I still dread those episodes and to this day, I get nervous when I am around her. I sometimes feel as if I wouldn’t know what to do if it happened.

  Another thing that your experience reminds me is how lucky we are to have compassion. I have experienced total strangers taking care of my sister whenever she got a fit when none of us was around. I even remember one woman who fished her from the river one morning when she fell on her way to school. She saved her life. I believe it is this remarkable quality that made you look after the boy and stay on until you were sure that he was safe.

  These kinds of experiences come to us in order to teach us the not so much talked about lessons in life: Lessons about being human. All those people who walked by must have had thousands of lessons in being engineers, or salespeople, or secretaries, or businessmen, or even doctors, but what about compassion…being human? But please, do not let what happened blind you to the fact that there are many people with compassion burning inside them all around you. Yes! They just didn’t pass-by that day. Compassion is a human character everyone has, but that becomes temporarily obscured by busyness, like the sun sometimes disappears behind the clouds for days. Look up! There are many beautiful things that you have already experienced in that country that should not be stained by what happened. And still there are many more beautiful things to come. Anticipate them.

  Make the most important lesson out of this experience not to be about racial discrimination, or other people’s ignorance, but one about your gifts as a compassionate human being, regardless of where you are or how inconveniencing it is to you. As you said, anyone can claim anything but it is not until that value is tested, that one knows for sure. On that day, your compassion was tested. What do you now know for sure?

  God bless you always, my friend.

  Regards,
  Ken.

• Thorns And Horns

  Posted: November 15, 2008, 4:28 pm by Administrator

  There is bush with long, sharp, hard looking thorns just outside my office. The thorns stand out with an intimidating starkness that silently informs you that you are at risk of being injured if you get too close. But then once in a while, the bush produces some amazingly beautiful red flowers that have a sweet fragrance. On a sunny morning, and with numerous bees buzzing around, it creates a refreshing spectacle of color, smell and sound that more often than not will drag you into an involuntary daydream. Yesterday, I went to the plant and examined it in more details. And I realized that at close quarters, the thorns are not as terrible looking as they are from a distance. In fact, they appear a natural part of the bush – a harmless extension to the plant - just like the leaves and the flowers. And that reminded me of the brown cow that my family once owned.

  The brown cow had been blind for as long as I could remember. When it walked, its muzzle would be thrust ahead and its front legs would step forward with great care to avoid making any mistakes. But in most cases, one of us would lead it by pulling a rope attached to its neck. The brown cow was the gentlest creature I knew. If you massaged the bottom part of its neck at the location where a cow’s Adam’s apple would be if it had one, it would stop all activity, lower its head and become very still. So still that you could hear food being digested in its many stomachs. However, many people would run away from the brown cow. Why? Because it had a formidable pair of horns unlike other cows that had been de-horned. While taking the brown cow to the grazing spot, the people we encountered would ask loudly if the cow ‘fights’ while still at a safe distance. And despite telling them that the brown cow did not ‘fight’, they would walk around it in a wide circle – just in case.

  But it is not just the thorny bush or the brown cow that look menacing and yet are harmless, people too. Like the thorns of a plant and the horns of a cow, people develop defense ‘fronts’. Have you ever talked to someone and found yourself wondering, “Why did I use to be so afraid of him?” This usually happens when you realized that the person who you imagined was fierce, or a snob, or a bully, or obnoxious, is actually easier to interact with than the people you considered to have a ‘normal’ demeanor. A person you considered very quiet might actually turn out to be a chatterbox and one you considered a bore be the most interesting person you ever knew.

  All these – the looks of fierceness, or aggression, or boredom, or ‘stone face’, being loud – are our thorns and horns. For inside, everyone just wants to love and to be loved; even the person who says; “I am better off without anyone”, or “I am done with relationships” or even, “I don’t care!”

  The thorny bush cannot retract its menacing thorns, and the brown cow lived all its life with its terrifying horns. You and I, we can try and tone down out thorns and horns and make ourselves more approachable.

• Lands Of Opportunities

  Posted: November 15, 2008, 2:02 pm by Administrator

  Like many in the US, we Kenyans are still swirling the phrase ‘yes we can’ in our heads, hoping that after the euphoria of Barack Obama’s win has waned off, it will leave a strong enough aftertaste to actually move us to take our chances like so many remarkable people whose skins have color; may it be black, brown, white, pink, magenta or in between, have done. Of course, Obama’s victory is an inspiration that many people needed to feel at this point in the history of the world and I welcome it.

  With Obama’s win, America has proven itself yet again to be the land of opportunity. But whether you reside in a land of such spectacular opportunity or not, we all should be taking the opportunities that are right for us. I am especially talking about the ones that everyone has…the ones that are readily labeled as simple and are easily taken for granted; such as having better and more communication with family, spending some time with youngsters, loving more wholly, getting a better understanding of God, writing whenever you can, appreciating nature in your wonderful country, enjoying your business ventures…such.

  Witness the obvious – like the changes in weather - and savor the opportunity to learn something new from it. I understand that in the US, winter is making a strong appearance and I am wondering…how is it like? It reminds me that I have never had the chance to be present when snow is falling. Of course I have seen the phenomenon on TV, but my mind tell me that it is about as exciting as watching a newspaper photo of a slice of pork sizzling on a pan; Where’s the ssshhhhhhhhh sound? Where’s the smell of frying? Where’s the heat from the stove? Where’s the sting of tiny rogue droplets of hot oil that land on the forearm? When I hear that each snow flake is unique in its design and that it falls only at the place where God has meant for it to fall, the anticipation deepens and I wonder if a snow field would be like the picture that I paint in my head of the first morning that manna fell from heaven. I can’t wait to witness that!

  Let us all appreciate our lands of opportunities.

• Flowers In Her Hair

  Posted: November 15, 2008, 11:51 am by Administrator

  In the public transport ‘matatu’ today as I was heading to town, then was a middle aged woman occupying the seat in front of me. From where I was, I could see the back of her head and her shoulders, and there was nothing at all remarkable about her. She was wearing one of those synthetic sewed on ‘hairpiece’ that create the illusion that its wearer has a lot of clean, long, straight, smooth, and silky hair. She also had a beige sweater on, and could easily pass for any of the thousands of middle aged women you will see in ‘matatus’ today. But then I noticed that there were a few tiny wild flowers entangled in her hair. The flowers made the little curls at the back of her head look very cute. But it was obvious that she must have walked through a bush and the miniature red and yellow flowers had somehow ended up there without her knowledge.

  When she alighted from the ‘matatu’, the woman walked away oblivious of the fact that she had flowers in her hair. And I wondered what will happen when she eventually finds out: Will she be pleasantly surprised, or visibly upset, or totally indifferent? Whatever her reaction, I was happy that her hair had reminded of the lyrics of an old song:

  If you’re going to San Francisco
  Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair
  If you’re going to San Francisco
  You’re gonna meet some gentle people there

  I pray the middle aged woman met some gentle people wherever she was going.

  That reminded me of a scene I witnessed a while ago while stuck in traffic along Chiromo Road in Nairobi. There were two ‘shoe-shine’ men sitting under a tree, looking bored as they waited for customers who would want their shoes to be cleaned. The tree they were seated under provided good shade and was covered with a bloom of yellow flowers. It was a windy day and each time the tree branches were shaken, the tiny flowers would fall to the ground, with some landing on the two men. This would bother them and they would unconsciously flick away the flowers that fell on their bodies, as they continued sitting, lost in a world of thought. This went on for a while and then suddenly, there was a huge gust of wind and the tree was now violently quivering from side to side. With that, a hail of tiny yellow flowers descended and within a very short time, it covered a small circle on the ground – literally painting over the two men and their shoe shining paraphernalia with a coat of yellow petals. It was as if the poor tree just couldn’t take all the shaking and had just thrown up yellow all over the place! The two men were so surprised and overwhelmed at the same time that they sheepishly looked at each other and burst out laughing. I was amused by their reaction and as I looked around, I realized that many other people had either started laughing or were now smiling. And as if by magic, the tension of sitting in a Nairobi traffic jam for ages with imminent rain on the way was gone.

  At first, an event that brings happiness or even joy can seem to be a bother, until you pay attention to what its message is.

  May you meet some gentle people wherever you go today!

• The Last Resort

  Posted: November 14, 2008, 1:22 pm by Administrator

  Does it bother you when people come to you as a last resort? Say, a person is looking for something and only comes to you when they cannot get it from elsewhere?

  A friend once told me:

  When someone comes to you as a last resort, always take it as a compliment. Whenever human beings are confronted with a problem, they always try various ways to solve it by themselves before asking for help. When they cannot solve the problem themselves, they usually go to the people who might help, but in the order of importance – with the person who gives the least help first. The person that they go to last is the person who they believe cannot fail them. Take the example of when a person is sick in Nairobi; usually they start with self medication, then the local clinic, before trying a real Hospital as the last resort. Consider even the money in your pocket. When making payments, do you start getting rid of the big notes or the small notes? What about at work? Don’t you start trying to borrow from colleagues before presenting your financial problem to the boss? She continued to give me the example of God. She said that people usually go to God as the last resort after trying everything else, right? And so she concluded that when you are the last person that someone comes to, realize that to them, you are very close to God.

  My friend’s is definitely one way of looking at it.

• The Revolving Round Hut

  Posted: November 13, 2008, 6:10 pm by Administrator

  I have just remembered a story that a college roommate called Rashid told me about his first drinking experience. It was back when he was a teenager and it was during the village circumcision season.

  On the run up to the actual day that the circumcision ceremony would take place, the villagers had prepared traditional alcoholic brew from millet and stored it in a small round hut. Feeling adventurous, Rashid and one of his cousins decided to sample the brew and so they discretely made their way into the hut when no one was looking. Once inside they sat down on the floor and hurriedly gulped down the liquor while looking out through the door to ensure that no one was coming.

  After they imagined that they had had enough of the not-so-nice tasting beverage, they decided to leave the small hut. However, they encountered a problem as soon as they got on their feet. The circular interior of the small hut seemed to be spinning! But what made it so complicated was that the door was going round and round and each time they attempted to walk towards it, it would shift from where they had last seen it.

  After a drunken consultation, they came up with a plan: they would stand at one spot and then wait for the door to come round. As soon as the door was straight ahead, they would make a mad dash through it and would then find themselves outside. And so they waited and would excitedly tell each other to jump each time the door came around. Unfortunately the timing was rather awkward and after missing the door and hitting the wall several times, they knocked themselves unconscious. When they came to, someone had mercifully removed them from the small round hut, and put them on the same bed where they had both thrown up all over each other.

  And that was the beginning of Rashid’s drinking adventures.

• The Tree And The Woodpecker

  Posted: November 13, 2008, 5:30 pm by Administrator

  A former classmate called Patrick Njiru opened my eyes in a fascinating direction when he confided about something that used to puzzle him when he was younger. He told me that each time he saw a person walking, he used to wonder what prevented that person from toppling over and sprawling onto the ground; especially when one leg was lifted. You see, he could understand it when a cow or a dog walked since at any one time it had at least two alternate legs firmly planted on the ground, but not for a human being. I don’t quite remember what my reaction was to that revelation, but I know that I have always remembered Njiru’s arguments and was impressed that a person might be so curious as to wonder about the obvious.

  I remembered Njiru when I looked outside and saw a woodpecker attacking a tree with its beak. And as I looked, I imagined how much the tree might wish it could shrug off the annoying bird that was slowly drilling a hole in its body. That reminded me of a TV story of survival when a mountaineer was trapped under a boulder overnight, and had to endure the pain as a family of crabs slowly and meticulously buffeted on his foot. From his immobilized position, he could only watch as one crab after another dipped its claws inside his open wounds and scissored out more flesh in a feeding frenzy that lasted for hours until the rescue team arrived.

  A tree can appreciate just how much it means for a creature to be able to have the volition to move, no matter how slightly. A person who is bedridden can tell you about the value of the ability for anyone to walk around. Someone who is locked up can talk about the value of being able to travel from one place to another. You and I, what can we appreciate about our abilities today?

• Class At The Nairobi Arboretum

  Posted: November 13, 2008, 3:39 pm by Administrator

  The Nairobi Arboretum is just a short distance from the city center and is a good place to hibernate to for a while when one is looking for a little quiet. It is a recommended venue for a person who seeks a perspective of issues, especially if what you are looking for is the end to the thread with which to tie events together. There are numerous paths through a wooded area that at first appears like a maze especially if you are visiting for the first time. But I suppose it is by finding your way through it that you are able to figure out whatever other puzzles there might be in your life. As you walk along the paths, you easily become distracted by the sights, sounds and fragrances of the trees, the flowers, the birds, the insects and an occasional monkey. There are also strategically placed benches that you can relax on as you trade in the noise in your head for the silence of the park.

  It was while I was sitting on one of those straight backed benches made from bamboo that a troop of school children approached like tiny soldiers on the move. They had a maroon and blue uniform and were all around 10 years old. From the bubbling excitement and stars and flowers painted on their faces, it was easy to assume that they were on a class field day out. They were being led by their teacher and as they approached where I was seated, she asked if I knew where the water tap was. I told her no. With that, she instructed the children to walk no further as she disappeared around the wooded path in a solo search for the water point. The children looked lost for just a bit, and suddenly, they began to congregate around the bench on which I was seated. I guessed it must be their training that kicked in, to look up to a grown up for directions. I was surrounded by about 100 little faces of boys and girls whose hullaballoo suddenly hushed as if waiting for me to address them. I was bewildered for a moment but I decided just to keep quiet. In that little while, there was total silence but for the jostling of impatient feet and I remembered the email conversation that I had earlier with a friend who is about to start teaching class 1 pupils for the first time in her life. In part it went:

  New challenges are coming up my way next year. I begin my life as a class teacher for Standard One and that will be a huge milestone for me. I am really anxious but I know that this is one thing that God keeps bringing me back to and that quote from the Apple CEO is so true:

  “You’ve got to find what you love. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do.”

  It is quite interesting because this week I am leading devotions and what we are discussing is pursuing excellence God’s way. The stark reality is that I will never pursue excellence in my workplace for instance if I do not have the right attitude and that will only come if I know that I am in the right place… I sincerely pray that I have found that, for what I do gives me so much joy and satisfaction despite the fact that it does have its downsides to it too. Yet it is those very challenges that make it all the more beautiful… all the more worthwhile!

  And continued….

  Do you marvel over the monumental task of being able to raise a child, and impart the values that are going to guide them for the rest of their lives? Now that you will be a teacher of young brains, do you realize that your role in shaping the future of Kenyans will even be greater than that of the parents? Do you realize that you have a chance of having every single dream that you ever had for this world come alive through your interaction with those children for the amount of time that God will grant you? At the same time, you will have the opportunity to make friends for a lifetime – valuable friends. I would have to say that the friendship of children is similar to the one that a person would make with flowers. No one quite understands what it is with human beings and flowers, and yet the connection cannot be denied.

  So, what makes us be able to do the ‘little’ things what we do despite the scorn and skeptism that often comes from ourselves or that might come from those that think we should do different things; such as channeling energies to efforts that translate into a fat bank account or an executive position in a big company? The belief that we are not doing this for our own sakes, but for a more profound reason that we might not yet understand. That, rather than you or I being the architects of our careers, we have accepted to become vessels through which God can reach out to others. We become like a trough that God daily fills with water and all sorts of creatures have to come for a drink. That takes sacrifice, takes submission, and might even require for God to bring us on our knees. The many ‘bad’ things that have happened in life might just be that; God bringing us to our knees.

  And at that moment, the teacher came back and the children were given fresh instructions on where to go next. I had just learnt my first lesson of what it would take to become a school teacher; a strong conviction of being at the right place at the right time doing the right thing.

• Orchestra Without Musical Instruments

  Posted: November 13, 2008, 1:06 pm by Administrator

  On the day that Barack Obama was declared the winner of the US presidential election, we were watching the developments with friends at home. We had just watched Obama’s acceptance speech and McCain’s speech for conceding defeat, when the TV station turned its attention to the local reaction to the event. Being that Obama has some Kenyan roots, there were pockets of sporadic celebrations in Nairobi and a huge breakout of festivities in his biological father’s home area.

  What caught our attention was a small group of supporters that was captured on camera in Kibera. Kibera is a sprawling slum area that houses some of the poorest people in Nairobi. The happy parade consisted of a band of about 20 men and women. The group was walking slowly in a small dancing procession with the leading man carrying a rainbow flag – I guess for lack of a US flag. Within the group was a man blowing the whistle with as much gusto as his need to breathe in and out could allow him. And then there was a woman carrying a paper egg tray. She was waving the egg tray above her head in a way that a musician might move a tambourine during a live music extravaganza. She was simultaneously ululating loudly and the unadulterated joy that radiated on her face was something to look at. We all agreed that she might have been on her way to the market to fetch eggs for her small business, when she received the news and everything else was forgotten as she plunged into the aliveness of the moment.

  When we later had a discussion, we talked about what brings happiness. That was when someone pointed out that despite McCain’s phenomenal endeavor and gallant efforts in the election, despite his dramatic past as a soldiers and his colorful career as a politician in the world’s most recognized country, the woman having a gay old time with the egg tray in Kibera was definitely happier at that moment. Life has a way of showing us that which can bring out the most happiness from inside of us. And if we allow it to show us, we rise above class, race, religion, gender and transcend all our present circumstances to create an orchestra even without a single musical instrument.

• The Shoes That Keep Coming Back

  Posted: November 12, 2008, 9:38 pm by Administrator

  Once again I am wearing the shoes that I have had since 2002. I bought them in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia and have carried them with me to all the places that I have lived since. Though they are made from high quality leather and have a genuine rubber sole, I rarely wear them and so they are still in remarkably good shape. I am wearing them today because my favorite office boots are torn. It must have happened yesterday since I notice the hole this morning. It is a rip actually, and from the look of it, it seems like the shoe got caught by a sharp edge and tore violently, perhaps in a moment of haste while walking through town.

  Unlike the office boots which look costly, shine to a high glow and have ‘manly’ written all over them, the 2002 shoes are dull at their best – both in design and even after intense shining – plus they have a flat sole which is not quite my style. In fact, the only reason why I still have them is because they never got picked whenever I gave away shoes. With the boots, many people have paid their compliments and with the 2002 shoes, only my sister-in-law ever noted that they are made from good leather. Between 2002, many shoes have come and gone and these shoes have prevailed, it even seems like they are the shoes that keep coming back. Why?

  Perhaps it is to remind us about the cyclical nature of life and all those things that often pop up in our midst once in a while…or perhaps to show us that there are many good things that are already in our lives that we rarely use and that we should perhaps pay more attention to…or perhaps to remind us of those people that can always be counted on during tough times despite the fact that we rarely remember them unless we need them.

• Everlasting Rain

  Posted: November 12, 2008, 8:28 pm by Administrator

  Yesterday it rained. The downpour just came out of nowhere and I was caught between my house and the bus stop. And so I ran for a few meters to shelter at the local meat shop. Njino the shop owner was sitting on the customer’s wooden form looking at an old newspaper. After saying hello and having a small conversation about the unexpectedness of the rain, Njino went back to his outdated newspaper and I leaned against the door frame as I watched the rain fall. The huge rain drops landed heavily on the ground and immediately made numerous small ochre colored splashes on coming into contact with the pool of muddy water that was frantically looking for the easiest route to flow downhill. I could hear the roar of fury as the rain drops pounded the iron sheet covered building that houses a morgue across the road. And as a phrase came to mind, I idly wondered if this is the kind of ruckus that would qualify as ‘noise that would raise the dead’.

  Suddenly Njino startled me from my thoughts by saying, “It is amazing that even after this rain stops falling, there will still be more where it came from in the sky!” I agreed with him as he continued to marvel at the fact that there will still be more rain in the sky next year and the next and the next…despite the fact that it rained last year and the year before that and the one before that…” I once again was impressed by Njino’s simple logic that always makes sense often when I listen to him.

  “Isn’t God great!”, Njino exclaimed in reference to the abundance of the rain falling on earth and that still waiting to fall from the sky. “And yet, people take God for granted and turn away from Him”, and as I thought about this he added, “Fortunately God is merciful, and His compassion is as much as the rain that is falling now”. When I looked inside the shop at Njino unsure about what to say, I saw that he was still engrossed in reading the outdated newspaper that he would later use to wrap meat for his customers. And as suddenly as the rain had started, it stopped.

  As I bid Njino goodbye and walked towards the bus stop, I realized that in those few minutes, I had learnt a lesson that I will want to remember for as long as I live.

• Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish

  Posted: November 12, 2008, 7:37 pm by Administrator

  The following is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005.

  Watch Video

  I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That’s it. No big deal. Just three stories.

  The first story is about connecting the dots.

  I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

  It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: “We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?” They said: “Of course.” My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

  And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents’ savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn’t see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn’t interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

  It wasn’t all romantic. I didn’t have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends’ rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

  Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn’t have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can’t capture, and I found it fascinating.

  None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

  Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

  My second story is about love and loss.

  I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

  I really didn’t know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

  I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

  During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple’s current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

  I’m pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith. I’m convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don’t settle.

  My third story is about death.

  When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

  Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

  About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn’t even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor’s code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you’d have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

  I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I’m fine now.

  This was the closest I’ve been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

  No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

  Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

  When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960’s, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

  Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: “Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.” It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

  Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

  Thank you all very much.

• The Two 100 Shilling Notes

  Posted: November 12, 2008, 7:07 pm by Administrator

  When I got into a number 48 public transport “matatu” near Odeon Cinema in Nairobi today, I sat next to a guy with Indian features. He seemed a bit agitated and was preoccupied with tinkering with a fat expensive looking Nokia phone and didn’t look up until the conductor began collecting fare from the passengers. The guy put his hand in his pocket and came out with several bank notes from which he selected an old and battered 100 shillings. In the meantime, I had reached into my wallet and fished out a crisp, very clean 100 shillings note. When we handed over our fare, the conductor looked at each of the notes briefly before folding them horizontally into half and wrapping them around his middle finger as is common in the “matatu” .

  As the “matatu” moved towards Kileleshwa, I began thinking about the two bank notes lying next to each other. What were they thinking about one another? Perhaps the crisp new looking note was looking down at the dirty old note and wondering how on earth it ever allowed itself to become that way. And perhaps the old note was looking at the new one and envying it for looking so clean and fresh. But what if the two bank notes were to tell their stories to each other?

  The crisp note would most certainly talk about exciting escapades. It would talk about being handled by soft, carefully manicured hands and sleeping in an alligator skin wallet, surrounded by the waft of ethereal fragrance inside a lady’s handbag. It would talk about gracing exclusive clubs and what the thrills are inside of an international Casino. It would talk about how important it feels to be part of a bundle of a million, and about the rude awakening of being ejected from an ATM. If the bank note was to sum up its existence in one sentence, it would say; “What a life!”

  The old worn out bank note would talk about the feel of the rough hands of the peasant woman who got her pay for laboring in the countryside farms. It would explain how it was folded many many times in order to be tied into a tight knot on the edge of the woman’s headscarf. It would talk about being exchanged for flour and cooking fat and beans at a local shop, and riding in ramshackle rural “matatus”. It would describe the smells of fish, cow hide, and spices on a market day and how stuffy it is to be hidden inside a brassiere. If the bank note had to sum its contribution to the world in one sentence, it would say; “What lives!”

  As I thought about the story of the two bank notes I wondered which one had a more meaningful existence; one having lived the crème de la crème life of money in glamour and the dazzling lights of night life, or the other that lived the seemingly mediocre life of the poor; the feeding of a family for several days or financing a trip to take a sick person to hospital or buying the local brew that was used to make merry at a wedding?

  That is when I was startled from the reverie by the conductor as he gave out the change: For my crisp new 100 shillings note, he gave 70 shillings change. For the Indian looking guy’s old and worn out 100 shillings note, he gave 70 shillings change. The value of a 100 shillings note is the same whether old, new, crisp, folded, clean, or dirty.

  Between any two bank notes of the same denomination there are differences in looks and experiences in their existence. And yet, even though one bank note might feel superior to another, the fact is that their value remains the same. It is clear for you and I that if this kind of thinking were going on amongst bank notes, then it is very foolish for any one of them to judge themselves as better or worse because of being old, new, crisp, folded, clean, or dirty, or because of being exposed to any particular lifestyle. But what about human beings?

• Allowing Life To Work

  Posted: November 12, 2008, 5:20 pm by Administrator

  I have been trying to make my life “work” for a while now. That meant getting more serious with my business with the focus of making bags of money, settling down with the love of my life and starting a family, cultivating more “serious” social contact, keeping regular schedules with the hope of being more accountable with my time, and so on. By yesterday, I was so tired that I couldn’t bear to hear my cell phone ring and so I switched it off.

  When I woke up this morning, I didn’t jump out of bed as usual, and neither did I switch on my phone. I lingered under the covers until around 11 o’clock when it finally became apparent that life has to go on. And as I ate my breakfast, I half distractedly watched a program on TV as I also prepared to go to the office. The program was about the life of a wild hamster in the bush.

  The particular family of hamsters that was the focus of the program consisted of a mother, father and their seven children. It documented about how the mother takes care of the children, the challenges of life through the seasons of the year, and how the rodents survive in an environment surrounded by predators. When the seven youngsters left the nest for the first time, they were so overwhelmed by the new world that many of them forgot to look out for predators and they perished. I remember one that was whisked off by a kite while it was in the process of grooming by licking its paw and slicking it over its face.

  It was while I was watching this program that I realized that there is much more to a hamster’s life than meets the eye. For example during winter, a hamster’s metabolism, heart rate, breathing, all slow waaaay down in a form of hibernation called torpor. Animals that hibernate go into a deep sleep during the winter months when it is very cold, and their food is in short supply. But before hibernating, the animal eats more food than usual, which is stored as excess fat. The animal then lives off that fat as it sleeps through the winter. Another interesting fact about a hamster is that it eats its own poop. Yes! Hamsters have a different digestive system than humans. Hamsters produce two types of excrement - one that is partially digested containing lots of nutrients, and one that is just garbage. Hamsters practice coprophagy, eating the nutrient-filled excrement to get the nutrients from it and digest it fully.

  It then occurred to me that there must be a higher intelligence that orders the lives of not only hamsters, but all the other animals in the wild. That intelligence understands that it is just as important for some hamsters to live to adulthood as it is for others to be whisked off as food for birds of prey. For a while this higher intelligence which is what I have learnt to label as “God” seemed to metamorphosize from just a concept in my mind that I have to worship and into something that not only contains my existence, but that of everyone, and everything else as far and my thinking will ever go and imagination can ever take me, and beyond.

  When I asked myself if I could trust this intelligence to guide my life, I decided to suspend making my life “work” for a while and see what happens.

  As I stepped out of my house, I met the neighborhood kids and spent a few minutes helping them with their bikes. It felt quite good to share just as small bit of what I know with them, and they seemed quite happy. On a day of making life “work”, perhaps I might just have rushed off with all my thoughts focused on what I would need to do as soon as I got to the office. I might not even have noticed or welcomed the warm sunshine on my skin or the clean dustless air after the last few rainy days. As I got into a public transport “matatu”, I realized that a story had began to form in my head, and that I would just need to sit at a computer to put it down. On a day of making life “work”, I would not entertain day dreams considering that I would have more important matters of “business” to think about. When I got to the office, I couldn’t wait to sit down to start writing, but then I was called to look at some computers that had some minor problems – the kind that take a lot of time to sort out. Well, it didn’t take as much time as I initially thought and the computer users were genuinely grateful for my efforts. On a day of making life “work”, I would have fixed the problems while grumbling to myself about being above “manual” computer work, and would most probably have made the users feel like it was their fault that the computers had problems.

  After several months, I am inspired to write and post something online. On a day of making life “work”, I normally do not have what is required to write what is in my mind coherently enough for any other person to read.

  In Matthew 6 in the New Testament Bible Jesus Christ said:

  “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

  “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

  With this in mind, it is easy to let go of all those things that don’t seem to “work” and let God take care of them: at His time, in His place, in His way. Amen!

Blah blah blah

Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

Guess what ... yeah ... fish cakes.

The end of the fish cakes