The Lily Review

  • Once a lover, now a killer, what is it?

    Posted: March 30, 2011, 10:00 am by arimifoods

    It is regarded as the cheapest thing in the world. It is an all-time additive in food. It is used world-wide. If it is missing in food, food is rejected. Unfortunately, it is a killer. What is it?

    Sodium derived from salt (sodium chloride), which was once a darling has turned out to be a jilted lover, incapacitating, killing and killing mercilessly.

    The United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) Recommended Daily Allowance (RDA) for Sodium intake per day is not more than 2.4g. The Food Standard Agency, UK (FSA) recommends 6g of salt per day.  6g of salt can sufficiently provide the required 2.4 of sodium.

    Putting this in context, it is equivalent to taking one teaspoonful of salt (which weighs ~6g).

    The above requirement sends strong signal that we possibly take excess salt than we need in our bodies. For example chips, barbeque (nyama choma), sausages, hams, popcorns and sauces generally have very high salt content.

    Below are the deadly health problems associated with high salt intake.

    1. High blood pressure or hypertension
    How does high salt increase blood pressure?
    High salt consumption causes an increase in salt content in the blood. This causes blood vessels to retain water in order to regulate the salt concentration. This extra amount of water causes an increase in blood content in the vessels leading to high pressure.

    Why is high blood pressure very harmful to health?
    High blood pressure can damage our hearts. Heart is used to pump blood of a certain quantity and pressure. When the blood volume increases, pressure also increases. The heart has to work extra hard to pump the increased volume of blood which is at an elevated pressure. The overworking leads to heart failure. Malfunctioning or heart failure is manifested as heart attack or stroke.

    Over prolonged time, high blood pressure can damage or weaken the blood vessels. This may cause illness or eventual death if the arteries burst.

    High blood pressure can also cause blood vessels to become narrow. This occurs because the walls of these vessels have to thicken and harden due to the hard work of handling increased blood volume at high pressure. Narrowed vessels leads to decreased blood flow to essential organs eventually affecting normal functioning of those organs.

    2. Cancer
    High salt intake can cause stomach cancer. High salt intake is thought to strip the the lining of the stomach exposing stomach to infection by a bacteria called Helicobactor pylori. Long term infection by Helicobacter pylori is considered a major contributor to stomach cancer.

    3. Kidney damage or failure
    High salt intake damages blood vessels which in turn contribute to kidney damage. Once the kidney is damaged, high blood pressure accelerates its damage leading to kidney failure.

    4. Kidney stones
    A kidney stone is a hard mass formed in the kidney from crystals in the urine. Urinary crystals can be caused by high levels of certain salts in the urine, an uneven balance of acid in the urine, or a lack of substances that inhibit crystal formation in the urine.

    High salt in the system reduces the body’s ability to absorb calcium, leading to its loss through urine and a greater risk of developing kidney stones.

    5. Osteoporosis
    Salt intake has a direct relationship with the amount of calcium we excrete through urine. The more salt we eat, the more salt we excrete, causing our bodies to excrete more calcium together with salt.

    Excretion of too much calcium may trigger the body to compensate the excreted calcium by using calcium from bones, weakening the bones.

    6. Obesity
    Eating foods high in salt lead to dehydration. Thirst is mainly relieved by high sugar or high calorie drinks such as soft drinks. These may contribute to weight gain.
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  • The Motion Setter

    Posted: March 28, 2011, 10:00 am by quill

    Michelle and I met in college. It had been a girl’s night out and we accidentally bumped into each other in the little girls’ room. She looked miserable and her eyes were puffy and teary like she had been crying. Having such a humble soul, I comforted her and she explained to me that her girlfriends had just ditched her and had left with their ‘hook ups’ from the club. I knew how it felt to be in a club all alone when the clique you had supposedly come with ditch you. I asked her to come and join a group I had come with for the night and she was reluctant to join us but later agreed.

    My friends Andrea, John, Alex, Samantha and Sheila were happy to see I had made a friend between the bar and the washroom, and understood why it had taken relatively long for me to come back. Samantha and Alex were and item, so were John and Sheila. Andrea and I were the only single ones in the group and the rest of our friends kept insisting that Andrea and I hook up. It sounded lame and Andrea was not my type, he was gorgeous, but not my type. We had loads of fun and had a good laugh, but that was the end.

    The night wore on and I noticed that Andrea was interested in Michelle and I was happy for him. He was really a great guy and I had no bad intention if he met someone he liked, because it would definitely make me happy (and sad at the same time that I would lose him as a friend). As we left the club, they exchanged numbers, and that had been the last night as college mates. I knew I would miss the clique, but change was inevitable since we had all got letters to join our respective universities in a week’s time. It had been a blast and I was happy that I had friends who cared for each other through thick and thin and Andrea had found someone whom I prayed would be the love of his life. And there is where college life ended.

    I went to campus for the first week and in a month or so, I started missing my friends since I had been used to being with them at any close moment. I had finally settled in and I wanted a life besides school and books. I had made a few friends, but I seemed not to have a lot in common with them. In time things were better and made friends who loved partying like I did.

    On this night we left the campus and went clubbing in town. The streets of life are narrow and small and you never know whom you will meet. I was not in touch with Michelle or Andrea since they both were in the same campus, but way out of town and thus it was difficult for us to even meet. The music was fabulous and the atmosphere in the club was amazing and time off was all I needed. Little did I know that this night was about to change my life.

    All my new friends were in relationships, others were seriously engaged and I felt lonely just like any other human being would feel. We all need love in one way or another. As I sat on the counter sipping my drink and bumping my head to the music, I heard a whisper next to me, “Your gorgeous and should not be alone, may I join you?” The voice itself was enough to make you want to scream. I did not have to turn to look at the owner of the gorgeous voice, I was stiff and my body was screaming. I do not mean I was never in a relationship before, but it had been a long time since I even had a man compliment me. I kept to myself for a long time after my last relationship ended, but it was time to let loose and enjoy life, because it was short. Back to the mystery man with a gorgeous voice. I swerved my seat and there he was, a gorgeous, man with beautiful lips and eyes to die for. My head was screaming “Where have you been all my life”. He was perfect. I was speechless and he instigated the conversation again and we had a blast the whole night talking about all the things we liked and we were 98% compatible. The 2% would take care of itself. I knew this was him, the one. I did not hesitate or ask questions, everything came automatically which was rare. We left the club that morning and had breakfast together. He was also in campus studying business.

    He was an amazing person and we kept in touch, did lunch, dinner and went clubbing together. After a month and a half, we were officially dating and it was the best feeling I had felt in a long time. One afternoon we had gone to an art gallery he loved and bumped into the last person I would never have guessed to meet, Michelle and Andrea. They looked lovely, introductions were made and we had a lovely lunch and went separate ways.

    A year passed on and we lost touch again. Michelle, Andrea, I and my now stable boyfriend met again and this time, the news was Michelle and Andrea were engaged; however they had left campus and were taking distant learning courses from their home. I had to beg their pardon, ‘home’, I assumed they were living together and I was right.

    My relationship with the “one” went on for a long time and we cleared campus, he went on to be an intern and we met ever so often. One afternoon I got a call from Michelle and her husband asking us if we could join them for a camp, which was an offer we could not refuse, and went on to join them. We had a fun time together hiking and just watching the sun set. Alongside us was a beautiful gorgeous lady who had come camping alone, we all pitied her and asked her to join us and that is how we met Sandra. A lonely, skinny looking girl with bad hair at that time. She looked lost, humble and naive when we met her .She had just run away from home because her parents did not approve of her behavior. She was fun to be with and then in an instant we all became fast friends.

    In a year’s time, Michelle and Andrea wedded and I and my gorgeous man also tied the knot. We had a bond we shared and friendship was important to us and thus we kept close to each other. Sandra had kept in touch and we never minded having her around, she was part of us.

    The ultimate question is, how did Sandra start her bad habits and what was the beef behind Michelle and Andrea?
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  • Half-truth: Microwave cooking Kills Nutrients

    Posted: March 25, 2011, 9:00 am by arimifoods

    There are claims and counter-claims that cooking vegetables in a microwave oven zaps all the nutrients and renders vegetables worthless. Does microwave oven really kill nutrients?

    What causes loss of nutrients during cooking?
    There are three key factors that contribute to the loss of nutrients during cooking of vegetables whether over open fire, by hot plate, gas cooker or microwave oven.

    If these critical factors are well controlled, losses are minimised and the cooked vegetables deliver high levels of nutrients.
    Long cooking periods using slow methods leads to high losses while fast, short cooking periods are less detrimental to nutrients. Therefore, very fast cooking methods such as microwaving and pressure cooking are offer an advantage of minimal loss of nutrients.

    On the other hand, slow cooking methods such as open fire, hot plate and gas cooker that involve long periods of cooking lead to high losses of nutrients.

    During the cooking, water soluble nutrients (mostly vitamins, minerals and other health promoting compounds) migrate from the food into water and eventually get lost through evaporation. High amounts of water provide a sea into which nutrients can get lost. That is why boiling and similar cooking methods that use a lot of water lead to high losses of nutrients.

    High cooking temperatures destroy nutrients. Most beneficial minerals and Vitamins such as Vitamin C are heat sensitive. They easily get lost at very high heat (temperatures). Combination high heat and long periods of cooking cause very high losses of nutrients and therefore are never recommended for cooking vegetables.

    Why microwaving causes minimal loss of nutrients in vegetables
    Microwave heats the food by rotating water molecules at very high speed (approximately 2450 times per second) causing them to collide and rub against each other. This leads to friction which generates heat. Therefore microwave cook foods very fast.

    It is also advisable not to add any water to vegetables during microwave cooking. If water has to be added, it should be very little. Combination of fast heating and water-free cooking is the reason for minimal loss of nutrients in a microwave oven. A research carried out in Cornell University, USA, one the world’s respected University for Food Science and Nutrition found out that spinach cooked in a microwave retained nearly all its vitamin B-complex but lost about 77% when cooked on a stove in presence of water.
    Other study comparing microwave cooking and conventional cooking reported that broccoli cooked in a microwave in presence of water lost 97% of compounds called flavanoids.

    Similarly, preparing different vegetables by conventional cooking methods (boiling) but in water results to equivalent or higher losses of nutrients.

    This shows that the actual cause of nutrients is the presence of water and length of cooking and not the microwave oven.

    Tips on cooking vegetables in a microwave oven to reduce loss of vitamins and minerals.

    1. After cleaning, rinse the vegetables in cold water, this leaves them with sufficient water.
    2. To make it completely water-free cooking, dry the vegetables with a kitchen towel.
    3. Place the vegetables in a covered, microwave-safe container.
    4. Do not add water (some times it is recommended to add 1 to 2 tablespoonfuls of water-this depends with the type of vegetables).
    5. Heat at the recommended power as indicated on the packaging instruction.
    6. For the vegetables bought in the open market, cook for three to four minutes or until vegetables are tender. This requires trial and error. Do not overcook.

    Bottom line: Microwave cooking causes some loss of nutrients, but when compared to conventional cooking such as boiling and steaming, microwave cooked vegetables retain higher level of nutrients due to rapid heating and use of little or no water.
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  • The Rebound

    Posted: March 23, 2011, 9:00 am by lawrence

    Oh, don’t we all just Love the rebound? The moment in Limbo between a wonderfully great romantic odyssey and the ‘moving on’, during which you simply let go and let loose. The marvelous blend of scum berg, complete a**hole, freaky dare devil, reckless nincompoop and awesomely funny potato head is something of a master piece.

    You see, the rebound comes after three stages. It’s that one last stage before you finally recover from the grand breakup that got you down this road in the first place.

    STAGE 1 – WHY, WHY, OOOOOH WHHHHHYYY!!!!
    For me this lasted around one week. Yep, just a week. I realized I have an unbelievable capacity to recover from huge heart breaks. Plus the escalating stench from kicked around socks, unwashed dishes, overflowing dustbins and unchanged beddings hastened the process.

    The Whys, oh the whys, I have never felt so pathetic. I learnt half the break up love songs in the universe. I vented the residue anger on my glassware and ended up with bandaged hands for my work.

    Tim had to endure hours on the phone listening to me rambling over and over about the same point. All that idiot could offer me was a tired ‘It’s going to be fine dude’. Why I’m still friends with this guy I don’t know. But he was there. And he made it through the most bizarre of questions without losing his mind.

    “Did you realize she was such a bitch?”

    “I mean, how can someone look so perfect for you, yet be so wrong?”

    “What would you do if Christine pulled a fast one on you?”

    “Hey, could I have Christine for one night bro? For old time’s sake.” He actually said yes to this one, but insisted I’d have to ask Christine. We’ve laughed about this so many times since.

    STAGE 2 – OK, I GET IT. SHE WASN’T THE ONE!
    Here is what I like most about being a man; the tough talk. I hear that stage 2 for the ladies is the ‘HE WAS SUCH A PIG!’ stage where all the ugly words are used to express why the guy wasn’t worth it, in an effort to make the betrayed soul feel better about herself. It works for them. Men, real men, don’t know how to bitch.

    Here is the problem though. Your close friends won’t come up and tell you the hard-to-swallow truth.

    True story. We actually care about each other in a non-gay bro style.

    The tough talk will always come from an external source. A friend of a friend of a friend, brought into the picture by the forces of nature when the time is right, at the price of all the hard drinks still left in your fridge.

    “Listen man, imagine your Mac book. A sweet little machine, so perfectly designed to suit your needs. It feels right. Nothing could be better. At least that’s what you think. Until one day, you rise up from the sofa, and accidentally knock it over. It falls, gets damaged, and can’t get fixed because some core hardware got damaged. You could fix it. But it will cost you more than buying a new Mac book. As perfect as it was, or seemed to be, there are falls it can’t recover from. You pick up the pieces, curse yourself for being so clumsy, throw it into the junk box, and out you go to get another machine. You deal with it like a man! That’s the only way to get past it.”

    STAGE 3 – ALRIGHT, LET’S HIT THE CLUBS!
    I think this stage is overrated. But it’s essential. Here is the logic. If you truly want to get back at the enemy, find them at their most humiliating point. Point your finger at them, and laugh your head off til your lungs hurt.  At this stage, my enemy wasn’t just Daisy (God I hate that girl!!), but the whole generation of females. I subconsciously needed to get back at them, feel superior and somehow revive my ego again.

    So I hit the strip joints across several counties in Kenya and picked up random girls. During my brief absence from The Lily Review, I threw wild parties, got hopelessly drunk, went bungee jumping and rock climbing, did speed racing in remote areas I’d never heard of before (and had great fun scaring poor old women coming from their Shambas).

    My friends and foes alike had a great time thanks to my hapless condition. That stage cost me a fortune.

    It took one almost fatal accident for me to realize I was probably taking it too far. If you have never been in a car that went tumbling down a hill, don’t look forward to it.

    Daisy visited me at the hospital. A bitch with some nerve is what that girl is. I told the nurse I didn’t want to see her but she somehow got into my room.

    STAGE 4: THE REBOUND
    Some people think stage three is the rebound. It’s not. A rebound is meant to spring you back up, give you a chance to sort of do it over again and hopefully get it right this time. If you get stuck in stage three in the ruse of a rebound, you never get a second chance. Life as you knew it is over.

    “Will you be ok Lawrence?” Daisy asked.

    “If I don’t ever see you again I will”

    “I’ll stay away. But please let me know when you are discharged. I can’t sleep knowing you are here because of me”

    “Don’t flatter yourself Daisy. You’ll hear of my discharge from the grapevine. Now go.”

    “Ok.”
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  • I need a ‘girl’

    Posted: March 21, 2011, 9:00 am by bakhita

    Oedipus explains the riddle of the Sphinx, by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres

    I don’t believe in the theory about how women date/marry/seek out men who resemble their fathers. In some ways I think it’s a little too incestuous/ Oedipus complex for me! It’s not as if I don’t have a fantastic father to model my future mate(s) on, it’s just not a quality I particularly seek out. Not consciously at least. Granted the subconscious is the subconscious so lots of things tend to occur without our having realized!

    But now as I critically looked back at all my partners I realize that there was a little of my dad in some of them, at least those who at the very least I had serious relationships with. So what exactly are these qualities one ought to find in a partner? Loyalty, respect, sense of humour, responsibility and a loving and selflessness nature etc… right? Then sure any man could have these traits. For me I have never met a man quite like my dad, I have only met a woman, me.

    As I continue my search for love and wisdom I realize that I’m not looking for a man like my father because I have his traits, I need to seek out a mate who is more like my mother. My parents were married for 18 years, about 8 of which I was around to see. By a sad turn of events she passed away. From what I hear of them and saw in the years until he eventually went to join her in paradise, they were a match made in heaven, pun intended.

    I’m not naïve, neither I’m I saying in my 8 years as the child of mama na baba I was paying close enough attention to the nature of their relationship. All I’m saying is that all evidence points to them having been highly compatible and deeply in love. My father not remarrying in the 11 years since her passing is rich testament to the fact. At least to me.

    So what is the point to all this? We all have relationships we adore, whether real or fictional. Those we’d love to model ours against or if we are lucky enough morph into. For me it’s my mother and father, the Huxtables, the Obamas, a lovely old couple I saw on telly who got married after about 50 years together and if have to keep it to just five then Maria and Ralf in Paulo Coelho’s Eleven Minutes.

    All these couples seem to have struck a balance among love, respect, friendship, ambition and the natural failings of the human being. Basically I’m saying, in my eyes, love carried the day or perhaps a deliberate rotation or battle with these elements. It’s that thing they have that has them one day look up and realize how much time had passed then looked down again and keep fighting to stay together.

    That’s what I want in a partner, someone with staying power and the ability to fight for me and with me to keep what we have alive. Granted not a physical battle of blows and kicks And as I grow older I also realize that not knowing my mother well enough is such a huge loss. Especially now that I have had my relationship ‘light bulb’ moment! From what I know she was fun but strict, was the life of the party but shy, ambitious but sacrificial [is that even right?] she was also a very reserved individual. Now how do you find the equivalent of ALL that in a man? It’s a tall order but what I now know is that I need to find my opposite and match. Hmmm. Well, at least it’s good that I finally know what I want-ish.

    Sigh.

    Signed,

    The girl who had wants to find a Mr ‘Mrs. Huxtable’

    Photo credit: wikipedia
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  • Sticking to your happiness goals

    Posted: March 18, 2011, 9:00 am by Maria

    Early this year, I set out some goals for myself. I wanted to walk more. I wanted to learn French. I wanted to take care of my hair. I wanted to go out and do interesting cultural things in Nairobi. While these were all things that I knew would make me *happy*, sticking to them was the challenge. On a scale of 1 to 10, my attention span is … by the way have you ever noticed when you say a word over and over it loses meaning .. cultural. cuuulturall…

    Surprisingly though, I’ve had good progress on my goals, far better than I would have expected of myself. The most important factor that has helped me is accountability. If your friends, family and even total strangers know about the goals you’ve set, you’re more likely to follow them through, especially if there is something at stake, such as your reputation or even a friendly bet. Social “commitment contracts” are all the rage with behavioral economists, prompting websites like stickk.com, where you sign a contract staking some money with your friends/family against a goal.

    So the first quarter of the year is almost over, and to keep me honest, here’s where my books stand.

    Walking
    I hate walking. So in a flourish of self-defeating rationale, I picked it as my first goal of the year. On my way home from work, I walk (almost) every day from the OilLibya on Mombasa Rd (Galito’s) to Wilson Airport, through South C and Nairobi West. While I still am not a fan, making it a part of my commute means that I can’t give up halfway through. And although I constantly swallow a delightful blend of car exhaust and dust, I’ve got my earphones in, and a mix of Classic 105′s Busted and BBC World Service keeps it interesting.

    French
    As for French, it makes me happy for no reason. It’s kind of a lame language to learn these days, Mandarin will probably be much more useful when the Chinese become our masters and overlords. But there gurgling, strangled-cat sound of the language has a certain… je ne sais quoi. (See what I did there?). I’m doing an audio language course, which fits in nicely with my daily walk.

    Hair
    I’ve had my hair natural for about two years now. While it’s been *amazing* learning about a part of myself that was oppressed and repressed by Dark and Lovely for so many years, I tend to get a bit lazy about it, and just braid it, take it out, braid it again. This is the third week I’ve worn my hair out, and people at work are taking it fairly well, although there’s plenty of side-eye being dished out in my direction. This is hair naturally growing out of my head, people, quit acting like I’m a lab specimen.

    Events
    Here is where I’m slacking a bit. I rocked it out in February, attending a bunch of things including a film retrospective at Goethe, Indian dinner in Westlands, two tech talks at the iHub and finally the Sauti Sol album launch which had a funny watchman reselling tickets at the sold-out show. 500 bob a pop, do the math. I’m sure that guy was a hero at his local that night. March has been quieter, although I had a great Italian meal at Osteria for my lovely friend L’s birthday. I need more suggestions of good upcoming events!

    All in all, I’m pretty happy with my progress on my happiness projects. Let’s hope it lasts!
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  • The Hand of the Pink Slip

    Posted: March 16, 2011, 9:55 am by Naomie

    To me it seemed the most traumatizing experience I would ever face. But I guess I was simply being rather dramatic as a woman. Most of my friends who I told I had been retrenched almost didn’t look moved. Yes they were apologetic, but not moved to the extent that I would have liked them to be. The earth was shattering in my world but all I got was “eeeisssh, you’ll get another job, relax” Retrenchment has happened to many Kenyans in the work place, but the worst kind is where you are given no notice and you absolutely do not see it coming your way. That’s the kind I experienced, right at the beginning of December, the festive month! All I could muster in my mind was “Are they for real, ama I’m dreaming?” Oh they were for real alright.

    We sometimes identify ourselves with our jobs or professions so much that we lose our selves. You define yourself by what you do or what title you have yet in a different thought line we are the same as any other human being.

    It was definitely a hard battle, one which saw me jobless for about 8 months or so. I was lucky though to have gotten that time to simply meditate on other things about my life. There are a couple of things that I would like to share just in case you are going through this or you know someone who is going through this.

    I think the most important is to simply allow yourself to grieve, if you must. Ok for men maybe not so much, they pretend to be hard core anyway so by the next day they have moved on. I would have liked that, but it wasn’t so. Grieving meant prayer, crying, chocolate and movies for a while.

    What many need to realize is that when you lose a job you have sort of lost a part of who you thought you were. You are not defined by your job, there is surely much more to you than a mere 8 to 5 and if there isn’t you either haven’t realized what it is yet or you need some help. Yes we consume ourselves with work, but have a life aside from work.

    The great thing about accepting the pink slip is that you now have a chance to do something you have always wanted to do such as go back to school or find a job in an industry you have always wanted to work in and for some they finally have a reason to start that business they have always known they would be good at. Grab your every opportunity with bells on and go with it because it is a life changing experience that may lead you where you least expect.

    At the point where I got my next job I realized that a job is so easy to come and go. Blink of an eye, drop of a hat, that’s how fast it can all happen. I am now not too worried about the whole retrenchment scenario because it made me a tougher person, I think it’s now more of do I want to spend the rest of my life working so hard for someone else. If I can work this hard for someone else, imagine how much I can put into my own business. You should be thinking in the same light as well!
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  • Being an apple

    Posted: March 14, 2011, 9:53 am by cazz

    I was born in the early 70’s (I know quite shocking!). The privileged first born child I was fed like a prize calf. Happy, healthy and chubby I was the apple of my parent’s eye.

    Fast forward to present time – still an apple. The apple shape is top heavy … you know the generous boobs, equally generous midriff, slender hips and legs and pseudo waistline. I wistfully look at my pear friends – their voluptuous curves, their waistlines and wonder if I should get a butt job. Shift the belly fat to my butt. You know use what’s so readily available! To be an apple in Africa is not easy. The guys love the curves.

    At 27 I contracted TB. Six months into the typical signs and symptoms I continued to refuse to seek any medical advice and simply believed I was working too hard and, of course, pressed on. I even found one major advantage… quick weight loss. Yipee! I began to look forward to skimpy tops and baring my midriff.

    Well things don’t always work out the way we plan. By now skin and bones I eventually developed a terrible cough and collapsed in a pool of blood. Quarantined I fought to simply breathe and spent the next 6 months in bed on drugs and being fed full fat cream to put the weight back on.

    I admit that nearly dying did put things into perspective. At the end of the ordeal I was very much alive, apple fully restored. And for a while I just loved myself completely ….

    But the poor self image crept back. You see I have always hated this apple shape. I want to wear belts. I want to fill my jeans not just the tops! My bottom half is nearly 2 sizes smaller than my top end. And while the boys love the boobs I just want hips. I feel completely unbalanced.

    Ladies I am of small frame and not overweight in anyway. I have a great life, kids, career, and lifestyle and avoid my full length mirror. And while I have consistently degraded myself my beautiful tummy has consistently remained the same. She has been there for me; has literally never left me no matter what I do.

    What’s it going to take for me to return the love?

    PS: If you follow this blog you’ll know that I’ve committed 2011 to internet chatting, meeting, kissing and dating as many frogs as I possibly can in my search for the Prince who will hopefully stick to his vows and do the happily ever after with me.

    Euphoria is a wonderful thing …so what’s been happening since I made my declaration? A lot of sightings, conversations, detailed grilling by girlfriends or simply: nothing!

    Will keep you posted.
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  • Believing in Love

    Posted: March 11, 2011, 11:15 am by rico

    I believe in love, I have to. Being a bachelor and all hoping that one day I will settle down with a drop dead gorgeous spinster I have to believe in love. What worries about it are the non-believers. The love atheists acquire it on some stage in life. This is after they have believed in love all along; they wake up one day maybe on the wrong foot and decide their love beliefs are gone. They proceed to say love is over rated and stupid. Only fools fall in love.

    My bachelorhood has been one long episode of converting believers in to non-believers. This is mostly caused by my set out conditions when it comes to love. I believe in love but I do not believe in the baggage that comes with it. I do not believe in commitment, what is called the fear of the big C. I am proud to be a coward when it comes to that. I also don’t believe that love can outlive life and last forever. I know things that can outlive human life and love is not among them. Wine in a cellar can. I do not believe in reading minds simply because I am not a magician.

    I have had my share of relationships. All of them failed like many African states. Each and every one of them has been borne out of pure love. It is all fun with no worries at first. Trouble comes when she starts demanding that we have to move the relationship to the next level. Picture this conversation:

    Her: Darling, I have something to tell you.

    Me: What is it honey?

    Her: Don’t you think it time we did something about our relationship?

    Me: ( confused) and what might that be? I…I mean what are we not doing right now?

    She does not answer me but I have been through the situation so many times that I perfectly know what she wants. I usually play dumb pretending I do not understand a thing of what she is talking about. This goes on until the subject is changed on to creep back again in another conversation. Sooner or later she announces she wants to know where the relationship is going on which I reply it is moving forward when it actually the reverse. She needs me to promise that I will forever be with her. Red signals start flashing on my mind telling me to stop and go back. This is when I make her a non-believer.

    We break up and she opens her eyes to see how much love is overrated and useless. I leave her heartbroken. She regrets why she fell in love only to come out hurt. She announces to all and sundry how she doesn’t believe in love and why it is only fools who fall in love. This always makes me pity them. How can someone get hurt by something she does not believe in?
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  • The Meaning of Life

    Posted: March 7, 2011, 9:30 am by crystal

    I’m not particularly religious. I was raised in a Christian home and attended the obligatory Sunday School until one day, Mum got clever. She realized that we hated going to church, and that we’d rather stay home and watch Saber Rider. She figured if she just gave us an option, we would choose voluntarily, and it would spare her the drama of dragging us out of bed each Sunday morning.

    So Mum announced that church is between us and God, and that we should only go if we want to. We boycotted church for about three weeks before we found ourselves back there with pinched ears and sore bottoms. There has been no mention of personal faith or free will since.

    At age 10, I got saved. I had no idea what it meant, and I did it because my cousin said I should. We said a little prayer, my heart felt buoyed, and when I got home, I prayed about a headache and was cured. Hurray for faith healing!! Two days later, I got a bigger headache, but this time faith healing didn’t work. I concluded that I didn’t have enough [faith], and my belief quickly dwindled.

    By Class 6, I would walk into a church and quickly doze off. My eyes were always open, but my mind was miles away. Still, I woke up for Praise & Worship and Communion. The youth pastor was hot, the altar wine was sweet, and the Praise Team played guitar. But after a while, my conscience caught up with me. I realized I was going to church for alcohol and music, and that I hadn’t heard a sermon in three years, so I stopped going. I later attended a Catholic High School, and SDA campus, a Muslim workplace, and several Hindu festivals, so I know a bit about religion.

    My dad thinks that’s why I hate church. He thinks mixed doctrine disillusions. That’s not really why though. All religions leave me with questions. They all think they’re right, so which one of them is wrong?

    In the end, I settled for New Age because it makes me feel at peace. Granted, it has some strange ideas like reincarnation, and it has no place for heaven or hell. But it makes me happy, and that’s all I need in life.

    New Age allows for belief in a higher being, but like all belief systems, it doesn’t say where the being came from or how it got there. It’s like the scientific principle of energy. It can’t be created or destroyed blah blah blah. My mind has issues accepting the concept of anything ‘just being there’ even if that thing is God.

    Anyway, whether you’re religious or not, if you’re a thinking being, you’ve wondered why you’re here. Granted there are people in life who are content to work, eat, and sleep, and sometimes I envy their lives for being so simple. But most of us wonder why we’re here and what our purpose is. Maybe it’s to get ready for eternity, to take a journey and learn lessons, to join with the ultimate life force, to discover and remember who we are.

    We spend lifetimes trying to find that reason. Even in sacrilegious movies like Dogma, the Scion asks God why she put us here. That’s a really good movie by the way. It stars Alanis Morissete as God and Chris Rock as the 13th Disciple. He allegedly got left out of the gospels because he’s black.

    Matt Damon stars as The Angel of Death, Penelope Cruz as Muse, and George Carlin as a golfing cardinal. Ben Affleck is in it too, and it’s the only role in which I actually like him. It’s an awesome movie, but you probably won’t like it if you enjoy going to church.

    I may not have found all my answers, but I’ve found a life philosophy via Mike Dooley. He’s written a book called Manifesting change and I listen to the audio quite regularly. As part of the programme, he gives an exercise called Three Things. In the exercise, you write down:

    1. Three things you like about life
    2. Three things you like about yourself
    3. Three lessons you’d like to learn before you die

    It’s a pretty basic exercise, and it’s also pretty telling, because usually, when you’re asked to list things, you’ll automatically pick the most important things first. That way, you end up with your favourite items and priorities.

    My list looks a little like this:

    1. Food, laughter, music
    2. My looks, my mind, my world view as a dreamer
    3. To stop being jealous, to be more secure, to be a good mum

    That’s all pretty basic, but when I look at that list, I realize the key goals in my life. I notice that I have consistently placed myself where I am. I’m happiest when I’m doing things that make me laugh, and I gravitate towards people that amuse me. I’m blissful when I eat something I enjoy. [One of my happiest memories is eating an entire Hawaiian pizza all by myself. *Sigh*] I like how I look, so diet and exercise is a challenge. In default mode, I sit alone, staring at walls and thinking, yet I don’t even know that I’m doing it.

    I passively chose to raise my baby on my own, because I want to be a good mum with no interference or influence. I subconsciously ward off relationships and marriage by loving the wrong guys. I’m plagued by jealousy and insecurity, and the day that I shall conquer this, I’ll settle with the man that I love. But it’s unlikely before princess is 18, because to me, that would mess with being a fruitful independent mum. When I look at things like that, my life begins to make sense, and I can’t help smiling about it.

    I’m sure you have other priorities like money, good health, prosperity, beauty pageants, and world peace. But when you break your mind down into Three Things, you’ll realize what’s important to you, you’ll see that you’ve been on it all along, and you’ll begin to do it and enjoy it.

    So that, ladies and gents, is the purpose life, broken into nine simple items by Mike Dooley. Try it. You’d be surprised how much your mind can change you.
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  • Where did my baby go?

    Posted: March 3, 2011, 9:00 am by bakhita

    I used to be a proud pet owner until a few weeks ago. At first it didn’t really register that I had indeed lost the cat. It happened over a very busy weekend full of never ending wageni and chores. So it wasn’t until two days later, when I finally came up for air that it finally sunk in that my cat was gone.

    Taking care of a cat in Nairobi is fairly difficult. Aside from the usual feeding and petting, you have to find a place for it to ‘make pee-pee and poo-poo’. You have to get used to having fur all over your clothes, furniture and sometimes in your nostrils! But on the up side, you have a faithful little friend who is always eager to cuddle up with you, listen to your woes, and whose purr can be interpreted as ‘ehe/nkt/wacha jokes/yeye ni fala” etc.

    So when I lost my little kitten, I was crushed. And some questions started to crop up in my mind. Everyone says that a pet is like a trial baby. Ok not everyone, but I know I heard that in some movie. And ok maybe they said that within the context of a couple getting a pet but woreva! A pet is a trial baby as far as I’m concerned. And in that regard, I have lost my baby. Of course this reflects very, very badly on me. Does this mean I shall be a bad mother? I fed, petted, made-place-to-pee-poop for the cat but clearly I did not give it the most important thing: attention. I was too busy flying in and out of the house, attending to this or that issue meanwhile my little baby was left alone.

    I knew this was to be the case from day one, I knew that I’d be busy but now I wonder if I really thought things through? Had I thought about the cat’s emotional needs? It sounds weird but think about it. I gave it lots of food and shelter but I didn’t have time to really give it affection. Not lately anyway. Most of the time I got home tired and even when she curled up next to me I would pet her a little bit then go to bed. Next morning shooop, mimi huyooooo handling business. Cat’s have feelings too. How do I know this? Well I have plenty of scratches to establish a case!

    It normal for cats to scratch and bite as play but somehow I could detect a little bit of malice and sadness in the cat’s scratches. There was a ka-vibe hapo kati kati saying ‘woishe look at me, play with me, ooh you don’t want to? Well take that, and THAT and THAAAAT’.

    Sigh.

    Why do we get children anyway? Sometimes I look around at the street kids, the mothers shouting and insulting their kids, the women who bite back the words ‘if only I didn’t have you I’d be so far ahead in life’. Fine the last one is a little rude but sometimes I can almost see it in some women’s eyes. The what-ifs of it all. I love kids I think they are heavenly. But I know the realities of child-rearing and the sacrifices one has to make. They are not flowers or ornaments meant to garnish our lives. They are little beings that we have responsibility over.

    Perhaps that is the lesson that my brief stint as a ‘mama’ so-and-so was meant to teach me. Perhaps it was my dress rehearsal for the real thing. And hopefully this time I will not neglect my ‘baby’ nor [God-forbid!!!] lose him/her.

    Signed,
    The girl who misses her kitty cat
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  • Misconceptions ladies have defined

    Posted: March 2, 2011, 9:00 am by rico

    I received a very long message on Facebook last week from this one girl. She was telling me what a waste of a man I was. First she said I was hooked to TV, watching football. She got that one wrong I also watch a whole lot of other programmes. What I don’t watch is what hooks her up on TV. The teary Mexican telle novellas, you learn nothing from them. The only benefit from them is different ways of crying and wailing. It’s not even entertainment.

    She said I was afraid of her because I had failed to ask her out. It got me laughing out loud. It is not a must. Though it is a gentleman’s virtue to do it, not every girl is worth the pain. It depends on where she measures on the scale of ten. If she is below six, a try is not even necessary. Besides, these are hard economic times. Each and every penny must be saved so that the pounds take care of themselves. You don’t have to go and pump money to somebody’s belly at java. The current manager might follow his predecessor to kamiti and I don’t want to be blamed.

    Taking these necessary measures does not mean that I am stingy. No. Avoiding risks is just nature and a positive human characteristic. There is only one fear which I admit. Dating is very much like going to a restaurant with your friends. You order what you want, and when you see what the other person has you wish you had ordered that instead. Queer business isn’t it? That’s the only thing I am afraid of.

    She added that I was not romantic enough. Now, that’s something hard to define. She drew a list of it. I had to get her sticky notes with romantic stuff like ‘honey you are sweet’ and stick them in the weirdest of places like a lecture room door, behind her desk etc. I had to get her some flowers and chocolate, that’s normal I can do it anytime. The sticky note bit I cannot do because if that is what being romantic is, then am not. According to her, I didn’t know how to care for a lady.

    Other than those romantic candle lit dinners which I thought she wasn’t worth of them anyway, I had to walk around town holding her hand. That is P.D.A [public display of affection]. It is not really African to do that. The only people who are allowed to do it are teen love amateurs and newlyweds. I was just too busy for that and I could not do it no matter how hard she pressurized me. I had to create time for her in my busy schedule each and every day. That is like being a prisoner to her. Squeezing myself to fit in to her plans is just unrealistic. Other than dating her, mine was a whole lot different life from hers. I have to do what any normal man got to do, have my occasional weekends alone and later go to watch a football game with the boys. Sitting curled up in a couch the whole day whispering sweet nothings and watching a movie was just not my thing. That is what she suggested I be doing on weekends and it is just not manly.

    That gave her the guts to call me an old fashioned man. If modern men get all that foolishly lovey dovey it was a pleasure to remain old fashioned.

    She added guys such as me like to talk big about themselves. Giving yourself praise for visible and non visible achievements is not a bad thing. After all we have grown up listening to our dads talk big about themselves every time. I guess am just a chip off the old block. It’s not abnormal. She concluded by saying I was commitment phobic. Who is not? Every man has the fear of the word C. Being tied up by somebody that you even lack breathing space is just too bad. You have to keep yourself open lest something happens. You never know when the craving will strike. You must be ready to jump ship anytime.

    I would like to say men are creatures which you cannot tame. The best thing to do is just keep mum about their behavior. This will save ladies a few headaches and heartaches down the line but sometimes stick on his neck, you never know. He might have already jumped ship.
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  • Choosing the Right Bathing Suit for Your Body Type

    Posted: March 1, 2011, 11:30 am by admin

    There are many types of swimsuits in the market, and some will flatter your shape better than others will. Despite the many styles, the bathing suit will be either a one piece or a two-piece swimsuit. Cut, design, print, and fabric, will all play together to either enhance your shape or not. If you choose swimwear according to your body type, you have a better chance of liking the fit and how it enhances your shape.

    Whether you prefer a one piece or a two-piece, you can find a style that fits your figure. If you are an avid swimmer, you will feel more comfortable with a one-piece bathing suit. Therefore, consider the type of activity as well. Always go for fabrics that can stretch and give you some support, as well as breathable fabrics. Some bottoms are too loose and will keep riding up, no matter if they are the right size.

    One great solution is to buy separates that you can mix and match. Some women have problems finding a swimsuit in a size that will fit well top and bottom; however, if you choose separates you can find the perfect fit. You might wear one size on top and another at the bottom; this is common with pear shape women.

    If you are small on top, separates will benefit you as well, but stick with a top that has some padding, and lift to enhance your bust. Bandeau tops look good on women with smaller busts only; if you have a big bust try to avoid a bandeau top. In addition, if you are heavy on top, you will need to wear an underwire top for lift and support. Look for one piece that will enhance your cleavage and offer support, especially if it ties in the back of your neck. Tops that have thin straps might not work well for the full figure woman as they will not offer the needed support, and may contribute to a saggy bust look. Keep the straps as wide as you can, sporty tank tops offer great support. Match it to a cute bottom and you are set for the beach.

    When choosing a bathing suit it is all about balancing how your figure looks. Women who want to conceal a tummy may benefit from pieces that have built in tummy control fabric, and a waist enhancement such as scrunched fabric. One-piece styles will flatter best.

    If you want to create the illusion of longer legs, try a high cut bottom, use fabrics that lengthen the silhouette such as vertical stripes, and try to wear a top that will get the attention away from the bottom part. Women with long legs can try horizontal stripes and a bottom that has a skirt or ruffles. Avoid anything that will lengthen your legs or torso more, such as vertical lines. A balance can be found with short style bottoms or a connected two-piece that looks like a one piece, but is open at the sides.

    Overall, play with different fabrics and styles until you feel the one that balances your body.

    Image credit: nruboc

    Author: Hannah Derrah
    Bio: Hannah is a hardworking freelance writer that enjoys her spare time by getting herself in her beachwear and having some fun in the sun.
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