Items by Administrator

Cock And Bull

• Joining The Relay Team

  Posted: March 9, 2010, 11:16 am by Administrator

  Each day we are called upon to join the relay team and often we reach out for our crutch and watch as the team sprints down the tracks. And as they disappear around the corner, we throw aside the crutch and continue doing whatever it is that had been interrupted. But as we busy ourselves with something we do not even enjoy doing any more, we feel a little guilty and a bit bad for the choice we had just made and we promise to join the team the next time we are called.

  Soon enough, we are given another opportunity to join the relay team and just like the previous time, we hastily reach for the crutch and put on a wounded look on our face.

  But for how long can we allow ourselves to let opportunities pass us by, knowing that we are bursting with potential? How long can we continue reaching for the crutch knowing fully well that not only are we whole, we are even capable of winning for the relay team? How many times can we bear to hear the cheers for the winning team knowing that we could easily be in that team if we just refused to reach for the crutch for once?

  When we look at the crutch – a career, a job, a relationship, a level of education, an addiction, an attitude, a tainted memory, or a weakness of any sort – can we stop blaming our circumstances and accept our responsibility: That it is time for us to let go!

  Let us join the relay team.

• The Right Key

  Posted: March 7, 2010, 7:25 pm by Administrator

  There is a man in town who is known to his close friends as Mr. Keys. When I was introduced to him by one of my friends, I sought to find out why they called him by that name. And my friend told me the story of Mr. Keys.

  Mr. Keys is a wealthy sophisticated gentleman in his 50 now. My friend told me that Mr. Keys has very little formal education and when he first came to Nairobi from upcountry, he leant the trade of key cutting from one of his friends. That is the trade that sustained his existence in the big city for many years. Looking at the man and the clout that he commands within his circle of equally wealthy friends, it is impossible to imagine that such a polished guy could one day have sat on the streets with a tiny booth similar to the ones that the downtown key cutters occupy in Nairobi, hoping that a passerby might have the need for a duplicate key. I was curious about how his fortunes changed and when I asked my friend, he looked at me and said mysteriously, “One day, Mr. Keys made a key that enabled him to open the magic box into riches.”

  Well, that is all that my friend said, and I had to walk away with that explanation. Taken literally, Mr. Keys’ is a story as fabulous as that of magic beans or a goose that lays a golden egg or finding a genie in an old lamp. It is the kind of story that we liked to indulge in and that fueled our young imagination as children, the kind that we call a miracle as adults. It is also the type that many people are ever in pursuit of – even though few will admit it. Anyway, may your goose lay golden eggs, may you find magic beans, and may you craft a key that opens the vault to fabulous riches! And may your story have a happy ending!

• The Seasons Of Honey

  Posted: March 7, 2010, 12:15 pm by Administrator

  The Japanese monkey, Macaca Fuscata, had been observed in the wild for a period of over 30 years.

  In 1952, on the island of Koshima, scientists were providing monkeys with sweet potatoes dropped in the sand. The monkey liked the taste of the raw sweet potatoes, but they found the dirt unpleasant.

  An 18-month-old female named Imo found she could solve the problem by washing the potatoes in a nearby stream. She taught this trick to her mother. Her playmates also learned this new way and they taught their mothers too.

  This cultural innovation was gradually picked up by various monkeys before the eyes of the scientists. Between 1952 and 1958 all the young monkeys learned to wash the sandy sweet potatoes to make them more palatable. Only the adults who imitated their children learned this social improvement. Other adults kept eating the dirty sweet potatoes.

  Then something startling took place. In the autumn of 1958, a certain number of Koshima monkeys were washing sweet potatoes — the exact number is not known. Let us suppose that when the sun rose one morning there were 99 monkeys on Koshima Island who had learned to wash their sweet potatoes. Let’s further suppose that later that morning, the hundredth monkey learned to wash potatoes.

  THEN IT HAPPENED!

  By that evening almost everyone in the tribe was washing sweet potatoes before eating them. The added energy of this hundredth monkey somehow created an ideological breakthrough!

  But notice: A most surprising thing observed by these scientists was that the habit of washing sweet potatoes then jumped over the sea…Colonies of monkeys on other islands and the mainland troop of monkeys at Takasakiyama began washing their sweet potatoes.

  Thus, when a certain critical number achieves an awareness, this new awareness may be communicated from mind to mind.

  Although the exact number may vary, this Hundredth Monkey Phenomenon means that when only a limited number of people know of a new way, it may remain the conscious property of these people.

  But there is a point at which if only one more person tunes-in to a new awareness, a field is strengthened so that this awareness is picked up by almost everyone!

  - From the book “The Hundredth Monkey” by Ken Keyes, Jr.

• Mirage In The City

  Posted: March 5, 2010, 12:15 pm by Administrator

  I heard about the term “mirage” when I was still a kid from my Dad. He explained what a mirage is. He said that it is a body of water that appears in a desert at a distance. When a traveller sees that body of water, it looks so appealing that they stand mesmerized by its beauty. And in that moment, they become thirsty and think how nice it would be to take a cool drink of fresh water from the lake. And with that as their motivation, they start walking towards that body of water. However when they come closer to it, it disappears, and then immediately appears a further distance ahead. If a traveler does not recognize a mirage in the desert as an illusion, he is bound to follow its appearance until his own water runs out.

  I think back then I didn’t know what a desert was, and so I had to see it through the eyes of my father. Now many years later, I seem to understand what a mirage is, even without the benefit of going to a desert. Right here in this city, I have often set out on my journey but sometimes ends up as mesmerized as that traveler in the desert in my father’s story. I ended up diverting from my path in order to follow the vision. And I believe that I am not alone.

  Right now, the hottest thing in the Kenyan market is real estate. When one is with friends they talk about the recent venture that involved purchase of a prime piece of property. When one talks with relatives, they brazenly want to know whether you also are investing in the property market. If it is not property, it is a husband or a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a wife. Other times it is jobs and careers and MBAs and evening classes. Other times it is the nice cars that everyone else but you is driving, and so on. And that list is endless.

  So what happens? One forgets what he or she was doing, or where they were going and starts to think, “Well, if so and so has made it in online forex trading, so can I!” and off they divert from their tangent in pursuit of so and sos dream. But then they realize that the online forex trading cash cows is not as easily milked as so and so claimed, and they decide to go back to what they were doing before. But soon after, someone else points to something else and off they go into the distance to follow a mirage.

  Does that mean that we should not go after opportunities? Not at all! What I am pointing at is that whatever it is that we are doing is quite right for us, and we just need to pay attention and see it through. You see, everyone’s efforts are good enough and always materialize into something. My friend’s efforts might result in a lot of money, whereas my efforts might result in wonderful human relationships. Your friend’s efforts might result in academic honors whereas your efforts might result in well brought up kids. What I am calling an illusion is disregarding or even abandoning my relationships because I want to be like my friend, or you trivializing the role of bringing up a family because your friend graduated from the university once again.

  But you might say that these opportunities are real, and everyone else is taking them and making it big. Why not take the risk? Yes, let us go ahead and consider them. But also let us consider why we are in the path that we are in right now; how did we get here, and what has kept us here all this time? Is there something that we should see that we haven’t seen in a long time? Then we can choose wisely.

  Remember that the greatest and the most rewarding risk that one can take is betting on themselves.

• When An Old Newspaper Soars

  Posted: March 5, 2010, 11:06 am by Administrator

  Walking along Muindi Mbingu Street in Nairobi, a gust of wind unexpectedly blows noisily around the City Market. It stirs some debris around the feet of a woman walking from Tuskys Supermarket across the street and she protectively presses the two plastic shopping bags held in each hand on her sides, to prevent the skirt from being hoisted up in the melee. Within a few moments the wind is gone and so is the look of panic on the woman’s face and she confidently disappears in the crowds of people walking on the sidewalk on a busy Nairobi weekday.

  The gust of wind can go unforgotten if it was not for the piece of old newspaper that was lifted from the ground by the initial gust. Long after the wind has died down, the piece of paper is still raising up in the air. And as I watch, the silent current of air drives it even higher and it is soon above the tallest building around, and still raising. And within a short time, it is soaring the height of the eagles that hang around the City Market mesmerized by the smell of meat coming from the butcher shops.

  I imagine that before the wind came, the piece of newspaper being trodden underfoot by the stream of strangers with no care for it must have bemoaned its predicament in life. It must have remembered bitterly just a few days ago when everyone was interested in what it said and held it fondly in their hands. And now that the news that the paper carries is no longer current, no one will even spare a moment for a small glance. Such a disgrace to be treated like old news! And so it just laid there watching as numerous copies of the newspaper with the current news were briskly swung past in the hands of their owners, it once again felt the crushing weight of doom at the unfairness of life under the shoe of yet another passerby.

  But as if to jolt it from its hopelessness, a sudden gust of wind swept by, carrying small pieces of debris and the old newspaper thought to itself, “That’s just great! Being swept with the rest of the filth in the street into a gutter is all I need.” But then unexpectedly, it felt itself being lifted above the ground, above the cars, above the people, and unbelievably, above the trees! While still absorbing the shock of what was really happening, the newspaper felt the power that was below it and realized that the power was still not done with it! Above the short buildings…above the tall buildings…above the tallest building. Wow! It was still being raised up. With eyes popped all the way and an unhinged jaw, the paper found itself soaring at the same heights as the eagles. And that is when it was obstructed by a building and I lost sight of it.

  Even as I wonder where the old newspaper ended up, I know for sure that it will never be the same again. For no matter what happens to it after today, it has seen what few papers have the privilege of ever seeing in their lives. On this day, it knows that it has soared higher than even the most colored newspaper with the hottest news can ever hope to soar. And to think that just a while ago, it felt as if it had exhausted all meaning of life!

  Well, that is what happens to an old newspaper that might think that the only thing that can make it feel worthy in life is to be held between the hands of its owner and admired. What is there beyond what we think makes our lives worth living?

• Getting Ready For The Much

  Posted: March 5, 2010, 10:18 am by Administrator

  I was recently walking with a friend called Njeri in town when her shoe strap snapped in the middle of the street. Limping with one shoe on her foot and the other in her hand, we walked to the nearest shoe store in order to buy a replacement. Fortunately we didn’t have to walk for long since there was a Bata shop a street ahead, that we were both relieved to duck inside.

  While inside the shop being attended to, she pointed to one of the shoes on the rack and said, “That shoe made me cry so much!” It was a kid’s shoe with a low heel and black patterned leather fronted by a small belt that was held in place by a brass buckle on the side. Njeri wanted a pair of those shoes when she was a kid, and her mother insisted on buying her a less glamorous pair of shoes. Hence the tears that are to be remembered many years later.

  As we went back to walking in the street after getting a new pair of shoes, I narrated to my friend about my desire to have brown shoes when I was a kid. Back then, we knew of only 2 shoe retail shops in Kenya; Bata and Tiger. Bata shoes were cheap and easily affordable and catered for the needs of students and ordinary Kenyans with a modest shoe budget. And perhaps as a result, the shoes were black with unimaginatively dull designs. On the other hand, Tiger shoes had a variety of colors and looked very cool whether in the shop window or on the foot of a wearer. They also had an image of a Tiger printed on the insole (as opposed to the same old Bata logo), were a bit more expensive, and if you wore a pair, you were definitely ‘with it’. One of my cousins owned a pair of Tiger shoes, and I used to think that he was the happiest kid alive. Of course my Dad would never hear of Tiger shoes especially since Bata shoes were guaranteed to last for a long time, and just required a replacement of shoe laces once every few months.

  One of my buddies called Dan told me his shoe story that still makes me laugh to date. Dan came from a very poor background and in the school where he went, only a single kid had a pair of shoes. As a result, all the other kids admired this one ‘rich’ kid and did everything to be in his favour. The best that would happen when one was in Michael’s good books is that he would let you wear his shoes during the 40 minutes break time between morning lessons. Within a short time of joining the school Michael was so popular that he had a line of students waiting to wear his shoes each break time. He came up with an ingenious solution; one kid, one shoe. As a result, Dan ended up being one of the kid’s who regularly enjoyed wearing one of Michael’s shoes over break time.

  When my Dad got his first pair of shoes in his late teens, it was several sizes smaller. Coincidentally it happened on a day when he was going on a group field tour to Ngong Hills. Excited to show off his new shoes, he put them on and went to climb a mountain. You should watch his face when he tells that painful story!

  One of the reasons why we tell such stories is to remind ourselves where we are coming from. Coming from a place where something would seem so out of reach and then being in another place where that becomes something to laugh about gives hope that there are still many great things to come. Why do I say that? Because it is an assurance that all the things that I might think are beyond my reach right now, will soon be in abundance, just as the pair of shoes that anyone who has ever cried about are right now. Can you look back and see your little achievements over the years, no matter how trivial they might seem? They say, “He who does not thank for little will not thank for much”, so get ready for the much by thanking for the little.

• Ball For The World

  Posted: March 3, 2010, 5:34 pm by Administrator

  When it became apparent that I won’t be traveling as much as I used to several years ago, I went into a gift shop in Nairobi and bought myself a globe. I then took it home and set it up in my living room so that the tip of my finger could travel to any country in the world from the comfort of my seat. Up till a few days ago, the globe was set up on a pedestal and propped up on a semi-circular metallic bar that enabled me to rotate the miniature world around its axis – just as the real world. But then Wanderi changed all that.

  Wanderi is a 3 year old neighborhood boy that I hang out with once in a while. While I was outside watering some plants, Wanderi sneaked inside my house and I heard something crash. When I quickly went inside, I saw the pedestal from where the globe was propped on the floor separate from the circular ball still attached to the semi-circular bar that enables it to rotate. Wanderi was holding the ball with both hands and when he saw me, he excitedly said, “Ball!”

  So, I extracted the globe from his hands and told him it is “World” as I tried to fit it back on the pedestal. However, the damage was permanent and the little world would not be the same again. Wanderi repeated “Ball!” and I said, “World” and shoed him out of the house to avoid further catastrophe.

  When I looked at the globe later, the only thing that remained to be done was to unscrew the semi-circular bar and let the globe become a ball – just as Wanderi had wanted. When I look at the ball now, I realize that I can look at the world in many different ways that I hadn’t considered before. For example I can look at the map of the world upside down and when I turn it at an angle, Australia takes the shape of Africa.

  I guess it takes people like Wanderi to come into our neat orderly lives and turn one or two things around, and then we are able to see the world from a different perspective. Then an ordinary world that rotates in a single direction at fixed periods of time, can become transformed into loose and carefree ball that can become fun to play with.

• Being Good Regardless

  Posted: March 3, 2010, 5:33 pm by Administrator

  Once in a while, we watch someone on TV who is good at what they do. We watch a top business man and woman giving expert financial analysis, we watch a relationship guru giving incredible dating advice, we watch a footballer being toasted after scoring a crucial goal, we watch a top actor giving a performance that moves us to our core, we watch stories or ordinary people that suddenly became heroes overnight over some fluke of fate. When such viewing catches us in a moment of weakness, one might once again stare out into the wide horizon of life and wonder when their ship will ever come. One looks at all the years of blood, sweat and tears and wonders if all has been in vain?

  But the thing is, in such instances we look at the people who are good at what they are doing at that particular moment and judge our entire life based on that. Rooney is good at scoring goals, but what else is he good at? When Rooney is so good at scoring goals, and I have never kicked a football, does it mean that I am not good at anything? That Rooney is good at scoring goals, does it make me worse at what it is that I am good at? Up till a while ago, everyone knew that Tiger Woods is good at playing golf, period. Is it fair to judge a man’s whole existence on the fact that he can grab a stick and follow a little ball whacking it over and over again towards a hole with incredible precision?

  Despite my failures, what am I good at? Maybe I am good at making my bed, and that might never make it on TV, but it does not mean that my bed making skills any worse now that a stranger with a skill that I do not have has made it on TV. And neither is it fair to myself to judge all the other areas on my life based of a single thing that is not working right, is it?

• Marked For Greatness

  Posted: March 3, 2010, 5:31 pm by Administrator

  I was shaving my beard this morning and thinking about the very first time that I shaved. On that day, my Dad presented me with what I can only describe as a shaving apparatus. It was one of those gadgets that one had to unscrew to dismantle, fit in a razor blade, screw it back again, lather your face and shave. That kind of shave required some skills because the outcome was usually the result of how precisely you fitted the razor blade in the gadget. If not done correctly, you ended up cutting yourself on the face and neck with the depth of the injury based on how awkwardly you placed the razor blade. When I tried it the first time, it was disastrous, and I had to postpone my shaving debut despite the fact that I had looked forward to it by carefully cultivating the wisps of hair on my face.

  Fortunately, it was the only time that I used that gadget because soon after, we got introduced to the plastic disposable shaving gadgets that are now common. After some time, the same gadget was re-introduced with two razors; just in case a single hair escapes the first razor, the second will definitely get it. Again after some time, the same gadget got a third razor; this time, to give you the smoothest shave ever. As a result, shaving has become easier and I can enjoy doing it every day.

  When I look at such events, I see the things that I am struggling with now, and know that things will get better. I remember that at one point in my life, the only promise that I had that I will one day be able to wear (not even own) a watch was a tiny dark birth mark that I have on my left wrist. And that one day I will be privileged enough to wear a tie, I had a similar birth mark on my neck.

  When we were children it was easy to keep hope alive by believing that we were destined to enjoy the things that we thought were out of our reach. As an indication that we were marked for such greatness, we looked for signs on our bodies as pointers. And sure enough, I now own a watch and I have a closet that contains many neck ties. And the fact that now it does not seem like a big feat cannot make me place any less importance to what these things meant to me once.

  That the things that seem out of our reach now, will one day be within reach is for sure. But for some reason many adults seem to wait for other people to tell then what they can or cannot be, do and have. What are your dreams? Like a little child, learn to look for the indications that you are destined for this greatness and believe that it can all be yours and it will be.

• Characters In Our Story Of Life

  Posted: March 3, 2010, 5:30 pm by Administrator

  I once in a while wonder about what it is that makes a person who they are. Take the example of Wanderi a three year old boy, whose physical development seems to be a little different from that of kids his age. I tend to think that being friends with other people is perhaps one of the most important things to him. The reason is because if you become acquainted with him, he will do whatever it takes to make contact with you at every opportunity.

  Yesterday, like many other times before, he saw me tending to the potted plants outside my door. And as usual, he shouted out my name happily and abandoned whatever it is that he was doing, all the while his eyes were fixed three floors up the stairs to where I was. And then he began coming up. In order to do that, he has to hold to the side rail and hoist himself one stair, release the rail to steady himself, take a moment to feel that he is OK, take hold of the rail once again and take the next step. When he reaches the landing, he rests for a while, look up to make sure that you still haven’t given up on him, smiles as if to reassure you that he is making progress, and then goes ahead to tackle the next set of stairs. When he reaches where you are, he just has enough strength to trot eagerly with his arm open wide for you to sweep him from the floor in a huge hug and reward his efforts with a laugh or a word of encouragement.

  Once he has caught his breathe, he will start pointing out things with his fingers and naming them for you: Yesterday, he named “Patrick’s house”…pointing to the apartment where a little boy called Patrick lives. “Bulb”…pointing to an overhead florescent lamp. “Flowers”…pointing to the potted plants on the floor. “Chicken”…pointing to an eagle flying overhead. It always is more fun for him when he thinks that he is teaching you the names of these things and he will go on and on and on. After a while, his sister will call him from downstairs, and it will be time to say good bye.

  Going down the stairs is easier for him and once every few stairs, he will look up and smile at you and give a little awkward wave from his little arm. He will make a few more stairs and once again will look up and wave at you…all the way to the ground floor where his sister will be waiting to hold his hand and take him inside the house.

  And so after another interaction with Wanderi, you realize that even after being with all the characters in the story of your life, you are unsure whether the words on your script that define what makes a person as still the correct ones.

• Easier To Be In Than Not

  Posted: March 3, 2010, 5:24 pm by Administrator

  Recently, a friend pointed out that life is all about relationships. I remember that she clarified her assertion by pointing the index finger of her right hand at the cup of tea that I was holding between the palms of my hand as an example and said, “You have a relationship with your tea.”

  When I think about it now, yes, I do have a relationship with my tea. It is a relationship that has been developed over many years. Each time I make it, the tea leaves have to boil in the water for about two minutes before I add milk. Many people who have taken the tea tend to think that it is too strong. Over time, I have developed a taste for this kind of tea and if I do not take a cup, I will feel that something is missing from my day. As far as my tea is concerned, it is easier to have than not to.

  But it has not always been this way. There are days that I didn’t care whether I took tea in the morning or not. A day would go by without taking tea, and I would not notice. But I remember that these were the days when I wouldn’t be responsible for making my own breakfast. And I suppose this is the case with everyone else as well. That sometimes, they do not care much about something simply because someone else shares the responsibility for it. When we share a house with someone else, sometimes we leave things out of place simply because we know that someone else is capable of putting them back in their place. And at work, there are always arguments about who should have done what but didn’t.

  But as my friend pointed out, life is all about relationships. And I will add that relationships are all about responsibility. If a person takes responsibility for anything – anything at all – that relationship will thrive, and it will be easier to live with that thing than not. So, what about our human relationships? If I take responsibility for the relationship that I am in, it means that it will be mine to make right. And as it always turns out, over time and with responsible nurturing, even the most difficult of human relationships become easier to be in than not to.

• Inevitable Trust

  Posted: February 27, 2010, 7:13 pm by Administrator

  My neighbor’s son is called Wanderi. He must be four years old or so. When the other children in the neighborhood are playing, Wanderi will be quietly sitting by himself with his collection of little rocks and small pieces of paper amusing himself. With his awkward lopsided gait, it is impossible for him to keep up with the fast games that other children play and his limited vocabulary and sing song voice will not let him fit in with the rest. His unusual development makes him immature for his age. On the other hand, his sister who is one or two years older is much more mature that her tender age. Amidst the excitement of all the games, she keeps a close watch on his baby brother, making sure that no one bothers him, and that he does not put unwanted objects in his mouth. She is so protective that when I first tried being friends with Wanderi, she couldn’t let it happen. Being very trusting, Wanderi has no problem approaching a stranger who calls out to him. But before he could make the few steps that will get him to me, the sister would physically step in between me and him and firmly plant herself there with a huge smile showing a set of teeth that were still growing. Eventually, she decided to approve of me and now I am free to interact with Wanderi whenever I find the group of children at play.

  Wanderi is one friend that anyone would like to have. The warmth of his spirit makes you feel warm in your heart. When he sees you, he will immediately call out your name and unintentionally mispronounce it loudly. He will then abandon whatever he was doing and stand up as quickly as he can, stepping all over his precious little rocks and papers in the haste. He will be smiling all the way and you can see his 2 cute little front teeth as he starts to run towards you. With legs that are not strong enough to carry his rocking body, he will set out in a gait that will help him move in your direction as rapidly as he can. In the last few steps, he will throw all physics out of the window and will give his all. If you do not throw out your hands to catch him, he would tumble down and perhaps roll in the great momentum gained in just a few moments. And this moment of meeting another human being is such a thrilling event for him that he will squeal with glee.

  I have watched that little moment over and over again, and it reminds me of a big jumbo jet streaking down a runway, with its wings all spread out, just about to take off. It is inevitable that if the plane does not fly, it would disintegrate into pieces. How does it feel like to have Wanderi’s brand of trusting? How it must be to be able to trust truly and completely! To trust so much as to know that if the other person does not catch you, it is inevitable – just as the jet plane – that you would literally and completely tumble down into a thousand little pieces.

• Before The Day Ends

  Posted: February 16, 2010, 11:59 am by Administrator

  When I woke up this morning, I thought about a problem that needed a solution and began wondering how I was going to figure it out. As I lay in bed for just a little while before getting up, I began thinking what I would do differently today, that I didn’t already do yesterday and the day before yesterday to solve the problem. And that is when a different thought came and I suddenly wondered how many times my heart was going to beat today. Immediately after, another thought wondered how many times my lungs would expand and contract in breathing before the day is over. And as if I had opened a dam of wonderment, I found myself wondering about the various functions that my stomach, liver, pancreas, kidneys, brain and many other organs that I might not even be aware of will be performing. As I once again wondered about how I would go about solving the problem, I also wondered who or what would be taking care of all the problems that are solved by the functions that my organs perform each day. Can I ask for assistance from that power in finding a solution to my problem today?

• Streams And Us

  Posted: February 16, 2010, 11:42 am by Administrator

  Thinking back to the conversations that I have had in the last few days with a friend, it seems like life hasn’t turned out exactly as either one of us expected. But as I think about it I am reminded of all the streams that drain their waters into the ocean each day. As each stream flows closer to the ocean it is filled with great expectations. This stream says excitedly to itself, “my water is very clear and so I will clean up the whole ocean!”, only to find that the ocean water is cloudy from violent waves and it becomes contaminated. Another stream haughtily says to itself, “my water is fresh and I will take freshness wherever I go”, and it gets into the ocean and its water immediately turns salty. Another one has known filth all its life and dejectedly believes that it will contaminate the whole ocean, until its water is sanitized and it knows cleanliness for the first time. And yet another has painfully tumbled down hills and gorges and has never known peace until it encounters the gentle lull of the ocean.

  Each person that goes out into the sea of life has different expectations until he or she encounters the world of people and mixes up with them, sometimes with highly unexpected results. So, do we cry for the purity that used to be? For the innocence that was lost? Or do we curse the callous that was developed? Just as the stream should embrace the new reality of a fathomless sea with diverse waters from a million streams, so should we embrace the strange world that we sometimes find ourselves in.

• The Slumberland Investment

  Posted: February 15, 2010, 11:58 am by Administrator

  A few years ago, I noticed that I had a bad back. Each time I stood up after bending for a few minutes, my back would unbend with a dull pain that made me want to bend back to the position that I was earlier. The pain would persist for a few minutes and would eventually die down until the next time that I bent. And so I learnt how to do my chores while standing upright. If I wanted to wash clothes, I would elevate the basin so that I wouldn’t have to bend. If I wanted to iron clothes, I would do it on the dinner table top to avoid having to bend. I also ensured that those chores didn’t last long to avoid the discomfort.

  Despite my precautions, it got worse when I noticed that each morning, I would get the same dull pain on my back as soon as I got out of bed. But then I attributed all that to my bad back, and so I started doing exercises that would help strengthen the back. I also thought that I should acquire a massager in order to ease the tension in my back.

  At about the same time, one of my friends used my bad and complained that my mattress was very uncomfortable. At first, I was defensive since it was a beautiful ‘high density’ 6 inch thick foam mattress that I had acquired a while back. But now that the seed of curiosity had been planted, I started paying attention to my mattress. I noticed that I liked sleeping on one side of the bed, and as a result had created a small impression where I dipped into each night. When I slept on the other side of the bed, I noticed that it felt strange, but I woke up the following morning without a back ache. And as if by coincidence, I went to see another friend who was attending physio-therapy at a centre that focused on treatment through correct flow of energy throughout the body. On that day, one of the facilitators was talking about the benefits of having a healthy backbone. He explained that apart from propping us up when we are standing, the backbone also acts as a centre for processing all the information collected by the nerves that are spread all over the body. He concluded that any blockage of energy in the backbone results in pain and illness in the body. In the long run, sleeping on a bad mattress or a bad bed for years will cause back problems in many people. However, since it often becomes a life disrupting problem later in life, most people attribute their woes to old age. Incidentally, the room was filled with old people with all sorts of physical ailments in addition to an aching back.

  Armed with that information, I went to Nakumatt Supermarket to buy myself a new mattress. After consulting with the helpful attendant, I ended up buying a spring reinforced Slumberland “orthopedic” mattress. It came with a user guide with the dos and don’ts of a mattress and a five year manufacturer’s warranty. For example, did you know that you should regularly flip your mattress side to side and head to toe? This is similar to fluffing a pillow and prevents creating depressions in the mattress. Did you also know that on an ordinary night, your body loses moisture that is absorbed into the mattress? It is therefore important to air your mattress by turning back the covers each day to allow the moisture to escape. This is especially important on hot nights or when you have an illness that makes you sweat.

  At KShs. 20,000, this was one of the most expensive mattresses at the shop. But exactly one year later, I am happy to say that this was the best investment of my money for the year 2009. My morning back pain is gone, and I can comfortably bend for as low and as long as it takes to finish any task. Plus I learnt a few things that I didn’t know about how to make the best use of my mattress from the Slumberland mattress user’s manual.

• Adventure At Sea

  Posted: February 12, 2010, 11:58 am by Administrator

  My friend is going for a camping trip at a beach in Malaysia. And as I think about that, I remember something that she told me that changed my perspective about the sea. She talked about standing at the beach and looking out into the open to see the meeting of the sea, the land and the sky. I was so taken back by that, that it made every trip to the beach worthwhile. Standing there observing the meeting of the 3 elements. That is a very powerful feeling.

  Her camping trip reminds me of each morning that we leave the house. I would imagine it is like taking a dive under the sea. What do we see? I am sure when you make your dive, you will be thrilled to see the crabs and the sea weeds. And at other times you might dive on a coral garden and observe the beautiful pinks and the bright colors of the rocks. You might also see the schools of fish and other interesting inhabitants of the ocean. If feeling adventurous, you might even go for a treasure hunt in a sunken pirate ship.

  But there is also the possibility of a person just staying close to the beach and playing it safe at the shallow end. Maybe when one is way past their prime and taking stock of their life, they might realize that they are still flapping their arms at the shallow end – where they started off when they were children.

  So each day that you leave the house, ask yourself where you are going to play today. Will you play where you played yesterday, and last week, or the 12th of February 10 years ago? Or will you dare to go just a little bit deeper and see something that you have never seen before?

• Body, Mind and Spirit

  Posted: February 12, 2010, 11:35 am by Administrator

  Each time I see a group of old friends and participate in conversations, I always go home with something to think about. For example after last night’s discussion about health, I was to later reflect on something that I once read.

  It talked about the 3 dimensions of life that give us balance. These are
  Physical, mental and spiritual. If any one of those areas is lacking, we feel out of control. This is despite how much stronger we are in other areas. For example, it does not matter how strong and intellectual you are; you will feel the lack of the spiritual aspect of your life. On the other hand, a spiritually rich person who has a weak body will feel lacking.

  It is important to make regular contribution in the 3 areas. And as you should often remind yourself, it is similar to making a saving in a bank account. And though it might seem as if one is living thrift, the rewards are already there if they look carefully.

  What about money? Yes, money is important. But only as an ‘aesthetic’. Meaning that money serves the purpose of coloring our lives with fine things, and we all like that. But as you go about the business of making money, remember that a healthy body appreciates walking more than a sick body appreciates being driven in a convoy of limousines.

  So appreciate all the vigorous things that your healthy body can do for you. Marvel at all the worlds that reading can open up for you to see. Be humbled by the wholeness that communing with God can restore in your Spirit.

  More power to you in body, mind and spirit!

• Life Outside Beetle Land

  Posted: February 12, 2010, 11:07 am by Administrator

  I am sitting on a table in the middle of the living room, the palms of my hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea that I have been sipping slowly for about 20 minutes. Outside the window with the curtains drawn all the way, it is a bright sunny day that promises to get hot. From the direction of the main gate leading into the walled compound where I live, a group of neighborhood children are making unexcited noises as they wait for the bus to collect them and take them to school. And as I look blankly through the window, I see a beetle laboriously walking up the edge of one of the flowered curtain partitions that dutifully hangs down the brown wooden curtain box. My eyes follow the beetle as it reaches the top of the curtain and starts walking across. Soon it disappears behind one of the folds and I take the last sip of the lukewarm tea as I stand up to start off my day.

  I find myself wondering about the beetle, and I remember one morning I found a slug trailing slowly across the green metal barrier at my balcony. Since I live 3 floors up, I wondered just how much effort it might have taken the slug to move from the ground to this level many metres up. And so I wonder the same for the beetle. When did it come from and where is it going?

  When I think about it, the beetle must have a mother and a father and probably brothers and sisters that it left behind. Perhaps back at its home in Beetle Land, it was surrounded by other beetles, just like it. I would imagine that the beetle lived in a community where every good beetle does something to enrich its life while simultaneously contributing towards the welfare of all beetles. For example, some beetles sourced for food all day while others took care of the youngsters. Some beetles taught other beetles and others fought for the rights of disadvantaged beetles. Then there was the wealthy beetle that had marked off a big portion of Beetle Land that no other beetle was allowed to access. That beetle would walk around and all other beetles would pretend to like him. On the day the beetle dies, other beetles will congregate and say how much they liked him before hurriedly sweeping him under the carpet and dividing his land amongst themselves. Surprisingly, the new owners of the land would mark off their territories and bar other beetles from accessing it. They then would walk around like the beetle they used to hate, and other beetles would pretend to like them.

  In Beetle Land, every beetle tries to distinguish itself from other beetles by making itself more beautiful, talking smarter, puffing up its body, chirping louder, and generally doing anything to outdo all the other beetles. Each day, every sphere of life at Beetle Land was filled with competition for who is more or has more. And as a result, for many generations the beetles have been doing the same things over and over again. Nothing ever changed because life was all about outdoing what the other beetle has already done. While talking to each other, each beetle looked happy and excited, but they all had a sense of sadness that resulted in a lack of real purpose in life. Only few of them seem to know why they were here in the first place.

  It was in this sense of despair that the beetle woke up one day and decided to change the course of his life. And so early that morning, he took off on a path that didn’t lead to anywhere he has ever been. The beetle knew of no other beetle that had walked this way and also understood that he would have to walk this path alone. However, any path that didn’t lead to the mundane daily existence of Beetle Land was welcome. And so he ended up having a purpose to move along in the path that he had taken. He knew the dangers of branching away from the beaten path, and so was grateful for every breathe that he took. But I guess most of all, he was glad that he was free from the daily competition at Beetle land whose bounty was vanity and price in vain. And that is perhaps how he ended up on my curtain this morning.

  Back in Beetle Land, they probable remember him and shake their heads in sadness and say how lost he is. While out there in the world of curtains, he probably remembers them and shakes his head in sadness and says how lost they are.

• Business Decisions

  Posted: February 10, 2010, 9:51 am by Administrator

  I am sure you know that feeling that comes when you are trying to get business and the person that is giving you the business becomes elusive. Sometimes you call and they pick up your phone and promise to call you back and they don’t. Other times you call and they do not pick up at all. When you come face to face with them, they tell you a story that makes you vindicate them after they promise that all will be well, only for you to call them the following day and they do not pick up your phone.
  In such cases, you are annoyed and usually promise yourself that it will be the last call that you will make. After all, you tell yourself, just how much money is the deal worth? Unfortunately, it always is at the time when you need that money and so you find yourself making the call to the same person once again.

  When you know that you are working with a person who does not have a lot of respect for you or the services that you are offering, what do you do? In most cases, we get annoyed at the person, but keep setting ourselves up for disrespect. But what else is there to do? This might be a perfect opportunity for us to examine the situation and once again ask ourselves, “What kind of a business person am I?” Well, you know the kind of a person you are doing business with, but can you take responsibility and choose to get out of such relationships? Of course the sacrifice will be the business that you will miss out. But given that you are going to be in business for many years to come, wouldn’t it be time to start weeding out the undesirable business practices before they taint your outlook?

• Who Was Mundi Mbingu?

  Posted: February 9, 2010, 2:59 pm by Administrator

  Did you know that Muindi Mbingu (for whom Muindi Mbingu Street in Nairobi is named) was a Kamba policeman who led the Akamba in resisting British colonialism in pre-independent Kenya? Read on…

  Samuel Muindi Mbingu was born in 1893 and schooled up to form four at Kabete Technical. After form four he joined the Kenya Power and later the police. During this time the colonial government had taken most of the Kamba land and the Kamba community, which was mainly pastoralism, send to reserved areas.

  In 1937 the DC with instruction from the governor took cattle from the “Nungu’s” meaning “monkeys/primitive blacks referring to the local natives. The government believed that the wealth of cattle made the kambas disobedient thus the wealth is taken so as to gain control over them. Besides taking the cattle the locals were also forced to make terraces in their shambas. This treatment provoked the vocal of fearless Muindi Mbingu to leave the police and mobilize others like Elijah Kavulu and Isaac Mwalonzi to fight for the rights of their people. Due to his fearless character, he commanded a lot of respect and obedience from people particularly from Ngelani and Kangundo regions and elected the chairman of the committee to address the people’s problems. In 1938, all the cattle in Kamba, Ngelani, Koma-rock region leaving the locals without any cattle. It was at this point that Muindi Mbingu mobilized all the people where they agreed not to let their cattle go and not to make terraces in the shambas. This agreement was summarized in a slogan “No Kikuu” meaning “as previously agreed”. From then they all refused the DC’s meeting and whenever they attended they would leave. Incase of a disagreement saying “No Kikuu”. With no solution to the problems of the local’s. Muindi Mbingu led

  All the people of Ngelani, the old and the young, men and women in the biggest demonstration to Nairobi. More than 80 km so as to meet the government or himself. They went to “Kariokor”. Then courier corps” where they stayed for one month all this time seeking to see the governor but being barred. All this time Muindi Mbingu organized how food for the people would be transported from Ngelani to Nairobi. At the end of the month the governor’s wife passed by and saw women suckling their young ones in the cold and this touched her so much and an act she wanted addressed by the governor and hence Muindu Mbingu and his committee went to the governor. Where they agreed to release the cattle to the owners.

  During the courier corps meeting, when asked what he wanted done to his people he responded in the local Kamba language – “twenda kwikala ta maau mau maitu, twithye ngombe to Mau mau maitu, nunmdu nthi ino ni ya maau mau maitu. (We want to live like our grandfathers, keep cattle like our grandfathers, for the land we live on is our grandfathers). The colonialist later accused him of being the founder of “Mau Mau uprising “- the Mau Mau is accredited to this brave nationalist.

  From this time (1938) the colonial government accused Muindi Mbingu of leading a revolt called Mau Mau. It was against this background that he was arrested and detained for seven years in the Coastal Islands of Lamu.

  After release, he was com-promised by then D.C and collaborator with the colonial government, a move, which annoyed the people, he had previously led fighting against the abuse of their rights. This led to his brutal murder in 1953; his death marked the climax of Mau Mau revolution with others like former President Kenyatta championing the Mau Mau causes.

  What Muindi Mbingu did for his people is worth remembering hence Muindi Mbingu street in Nairobi.

  From: http://www.kenyakeep.org

• Green Grass

  Posted: February 9, 2010, 2:47 pm by Administrator

  I think one of the most intriguing things in this life is the way that we never quite are satisfied with the way that our lives are at any one moment. For example when a person is single, they want to be with someone else and when one is with someone else, they want to be single again. Many people can’t seem to decide what they want. I guess it is all about the case of the grass looking greener on the other side.

  Last year, my friend Delasoi and I needed to have a talk concerning her career. She used to work along Uhuru Highway and so we decided to cross the road and look for a quiet spot to talk at Central Park. When we got into Central Park, we moved for sometime looking for a bench to sit on, but they were all taken. And so we decided to sit on the grass. It had rained recently, and so we would have to go to a spot that had long grass to avoid getting muddy. From where we were standing, there was a nice and inviting patch of green grass in the shade under a tree and so we decided to sit there. After walking for a few metres, we got to the spot and it turned out to be too wet for comfort. Again, we saw another patch of grass a few metres away and once again we walked over. When we got there, it turned out that the grass was too scattered for us to sit without our clothes getting stained by the red soil. And once again we spotted another patch and we moved there with the same results. We moved for a few more times before we looked at each other in stupefied comprehension. The reason why the grass always looked greener over there was because we were looking at it from the side; the view from the side gave it a false appearance of being more concentrated than it really was – hence greener. But when we looked at it at close quarters from above, it appeared sketchy since we were seeing the blades of grass from the top.

  So, what kind of a person are you? That is a question that you will have to answer to yourself over and over and over again if you plan to remain yourself. Why? Because that question serves as the light house that enables us to navigate the sea that comprises being a human being. At one time, we think that we ought to be more lively; we go out daily for a few nights and it drains the life out of us. At other times we want to be serious; we work with so much concentration that it dulls us to the bone. At other times we want to be outgoing; we follow other people around until we realize that we are becoming puppy dogs. And in all these times, there is the person that you are running away from. So, what kind of a person are you? Be that.

  What kind of a person are you? Never get tired of asking that question, and never be afraid of the answer. For no matter where you are, grass with be green.

• The How and What of Thought

  Posted: February 9, 2010, 1:26 pm by Administrator

  I like my friend Njeri because she is very truthful. And once in a while we have a conversation that leaves a lasting impression. Like the time she told me about the voices in her head and the way that they tell her all sorts of things. I was very interested and I asked her how she manages them. So she told me that she simply tells them to shut up. And they do.

  So I thought I would do the same with the voices in my head. The reason is because they are always talking and they often say things that are hurtful. And so I looked for a time when they were busy and told them to shut up. I think I startled them because they paused for a bit then continued chattering as if nothing happened. And so I bolstered myself up some more and ordered them to shut up in a louder voice. And for a moment there, I thought I had succeeded, until they turned their wrath on me and started to threaten me. They started saying about all the nasty things that they can make happen in my life, and that there was nothing I could do about it. I got scared and didn’t dare to tell them to shut up again.

  I continued wondering how I was going to quieten the voices. And after their threats, I realized just how audacious they were, and I knew that I had to figure out something smart. And so I began observing them in the time when there wasn’t much going on.

  After some time of paying attention, I realized that when the voices are very active there is pressure in my head. And each time I relaxed consciously, the pressure eased and the voices grew quiet, giving much needed relief. I was happy with the discovery and I started taking time to relax in order to manage the pressure and the voices. And that is when, I discovered something even more interesting; I pinpointed the location in my head where the voices were coming from.

  I learnt that when the voices were active – which was always – my attention in the brain was towards my left. The only way that I can explain it is by asking you to imagine holding a pen with your hand and writing in a book. If you are right handed, you notice that you are more inclined towards your right hand because it is ‘stronger’. I realized that when I was thinking, the left side of my brain was ‘stronger’. And when I switched my attention to the right side of my brain, the voices went off! It is like moving from the living room to the bedroom and realizing that the noise from the TV show – that you were not even watching – is no longer with you.

  It was quite a relief to realize that my brain has compartments where I can ‘go’ and discover different things. At first, it is quite cumbersome – as trying to write with a left hand if you are right handed – and you can’t seem to be able to switch at will, but with practice you slowly learn how to. Apart from switching off the voices, moving your attention from one part of your brain to another enables you to let go of unwanted emotions. For example, if one of those things that come to mind and throw you off appears – say anxiety – you simply move from one part of your brain to another and they feeling dies off completely. What is most gratifying is that the freedom is present even in the presence of that which ordinarily makes you anxious.

  All this is still new to me, and I am very excited by the possibilities. Of course at first it feels unreal and even makes you feel light headed – as you often do when something significant changes in your mind – but for anyone who has spent years trying to change how they think, this is as practical as it gets. In most cases we are taught how to change the what of thinking, but I believe what we need is to change the how of thinking.

• Real Estate

  Posted: February 9, 2010, 12:36 pm by Administrator

  Have you ever contemplated just how much space you occupy in this Universe? When it finally hit me, the thought was both scary and liberating at the same time. It was on a day when I was strolling in the City with a friend and it occurred to us that all the space that our bodies occupy in this world – in the Universe – was less than the volume of a green rubbish bin that was in front of us! It was scary to realize just how small I was. On that day in the midst of the tall buildings in the city, I saw myself as a tiny ant running up and down foraging – like all the others hurrying all around me to complete their errands before darkness fell.

  As we just stood there with my friend looking at the green rubbish bin, we started wondering aloud why we often considered ourselves so important! That we thought that God – the Creator of the 6 billion human beings in the world, and all the trillions of stars in our Galaxy, and the trillions of Galaxies known to man – depended on what we do to be happy or unhappy. That if we do ‘good’ and sing praises to Him, he would be thrilled. That if we do ‘bad’ and forget to say just how magnificent He is, He would be angry at us. That as I write about Him and write god instead of God, He will not be pleased with me. And I think for the first time in my life, I was able to understand what the word ‘Ego’ means.

  I have always known ego to indicate an inflated sense of importance, but I always associated it with having a lot of money, and machismo. But when I look at it now, I see it very much in myself as a religious and spiritual person. Just like a person would pop up a name of a famous person just to show how important he is, we often do the same as ‘Godly’ people. Have you heard people gossip maliciously about another and then conclude the session by saying, “Let’s pray for him/her”? Or when someone says magnanimously, “God spoke to me and said…..”

  I am not saying that there is anything wrong with God speaking to anyone, but it is just that when one uses that claim as mileage to justify lack of reason, or to show off, then the motive is wrong; that’s ego. Incidentally, what many people consider to be the voice of God speaking to them, is the ‘voice in the head’ or the voice of ego.

  Anyway, on that day, I felt liberated. Why? Because I was able to see that I do not have to change the world in order to feel purposeful. What do I mean by that? That my primary responsibility is to manage this small space that I have been given. And why is that so important? Because anything else is beyond my control. When I direct loving and generosity and compassion and praise and understand into that space, it quickly fills up and starts to overflow, and I can genuinely give to others. On the other hand, when I attempt to give these things to others with a hope to get back, I often feel cheated since I give what I never had in the first place.

  When everywhere you look, people are scrambling for every available piece of land to occupy it is good to realize that I have my prime piece of real estate – right here.

• Something To Live For

  Posted: February 8, 2010, 12:40 pm by Administrator

  A friend sent me an SMS on my phone asking what I would die for. At first I thought the answer would be easy but an hour later, I still hadn’t replied and so she called to ask. I didn’t have an answer to what I would die for. The reason is because in the time that I had thought about it, the question had seemed trickier than I would have imagined.

  When I thought about the things that one should die for, my mind went back 2 years ago to the time when we had our last presidential elections. The results of the election were disputed and as a result, violence broke out and many innocent people lost their lives and property. In that group of people who lost their lives were a posse that went out into the front line in the name of the politician who they supported and hence believed had won the election. In other words, they were willing to give up their lives for the cause of the politician. And they died.

  When I thought about it, I realized none of the politicians from the two parties in contention was willing to give their lives for their cause. Neither was to be seen anywhere near areas where the asphalt was burning with tires. And when they appeared in public to give statements – and sometimes pour more fuel into the fire – they were very well protected by professional body guards hired for that job.

  Were the politicians willing to die for their cause? No! In fact the irony is that in any battle, it is the ones who have the least to gain that are always putting their lives on the line. The ones who have the most to gain are never willing to die.

  Conventional romantic wisdom tells us that the ultimate test of love is when one is willing to die for the apple of their eye. If a boy loves a girl so much and even dies for her, common sense tells me that she will grieve for some time and then put the sorrow away to make room for love with someone else. I also suspect that when the girl is 90 years old, she will most probably consider the boy who lived with her all this time to be a hero. Wouldn’t it make more sense to find something to live for instead?

• Expanding Boundaries

  Posted: February 8, 2010, 11:57 am by Administrator

  One of the most challenging conversations that I ever had was with a friend called Tom. He brought up the conversation by wondering why our fathers didn’t buy land in the City Centre when it was readily available many years ago. At the end of the conversation, Tom warned that 20 years from now, our children will be questioning about the same thing about their parents – us. After that conversation, one of the things that became very clear to me is that in 20 years’ time, that which will be of great value might not necessarily seem important today, and is most probably readily available; just as land in the City Centre was much cheaper and abundant to our fathers when they were young. The challenge is to identify what is readily available to us today that will be of great value 20 years from now.

  Each time I think about it, I always conclude that that ‘thing’ that will be of great value in 20 years is consciousness. For the purpose of this article I will look at consciousness in terms of the scope that is defined by the boundaries of our mind. As we know, these boundaries are defined and marked as we develop in life. Up till our 20s, the boundaries are defined by our parents and teachers and relatives and friends. But then when we come out of the school and into the world of careers and jobs, the boundaries expand because we realize that it is mandatory in order for us to cope in our new found reality of financial responsibility. When we get married and start families in our 30s, the boundaries expand some more as we learn how to take on even more responsibilities in the world. By the time we are getting into our 40s, we more or less have found a handle on life and tend to settle into a routine that works very comfortably with us and those around us. And there lies the danger, for many people decide to settles into their mental boundaries for good.

  What happens when a person settles into a fixed consciousness for good? Well, they remain in the same state of affairs year in and year out. And I am sure that you know of people who just settle into life and every day looks like another. In most cases, they hold the same job for years, maintain a predictable daily routine, go to the same social venues, maintain the same circle of friends and generally like their boats not to be rocked. If any of the parameters of such a person’s life changes, it appears as if their whole world has collapsed.

  But is settling into a comfortable lifestyle so bad? No, it isn’t. But you see, there is a better way. What is that better way? The better way is for a person to take it upon themselves to expand the boundaries in their minds. How? Through ‘personal development’ initiatives. Such as sports and fitness, reading books, learning new skills, developing hobbies and so forth. Of course the benefits of such an approach to life include a healthy and happy lifestyle and even financial gains. For such a person, no day is like any other since the mental boundaries are always shifting and their consciousness is very dynamic.

  If you compare the person who ’settled’ into their mental boundaries and the person who made a conscious effort to expand their mental boundaries, what will be the change in 20 years? I will tell you that if the difference were to be measured in acres of land, the first guy might have a quarter acre where he has his small comfortable house, and the second person will have hundreds of acres spread across various parts of the globe. And in 20 years time, what will the children say? The children of the first person will be wondering what their father did while other men developed themselves, and the children of the second will be increasing on what their father continues to build on.

• Progress In Bytes

  Posted: February 6, 2010, 9:38 am by Administrator

  I couldn’t wait to get to the office this morning. The reason is because I was excited to see if my downloads completed overnight. Among others, I am downloading Season 5 of “Entourage”, the complete works of George Michael, Celine Dion, Dido, and James Last, and my favorite – a whole 95 episodes of “The Muppet Show”. When I look at the statistics on my computer, I have downloaded 10 GB or data and uploaded 5 GB of data. Part of the excitement is because until a few days ago, Safaricom would sell 1 GB of downloaded data for KShs. 2,500. Now, for KShs. 1,000 you have unlimited internet access for 7 days. In just 2 days, I have downloaded data worth over KShs. 25,000!

  For me, the proliferation of the Internet and the mobile phone are among the top indicators of just how much things can change in a few years. Slightly over 10 years ago, we would leave a 1 MB download to run overnight for 2 reasons; One, because it would take hours, and Two, because it was only at night when there would be a good chance that the download would complete successfully without timing out. It could take up to a week of daily attempts to successfully download a 1 MB software using a computer modem over the Kenya Posts and Telecommunications Corporation’s telephone line. Of course back then having a land line was a great achievement.

  In 1990, I met a girl who had a key like none I had ever seen before. When I enquired what the key was used for, she said, “It is for my family’s home computer.” At that time, I had never seen a computer, and I couldn’t believe that anyone might have one at home. And from her description, I imagined that a computer had to look like a TV, but my deduction led me to conclude that it required an ignition key to turn on, just like a car!

  In 1999, I was ecstatic at buying my first computer – a Pentium 1 with 4.3 GB hard disk. I remember the Dixon my Tech savvy friend telling me, “The hard disk in this computer has so much space that even your children will never fill it with data!” Given that the largest storage medium I had at my disposal was the 1.44 MB floppy disk, that was easy to believe. Now, I don’t have children yet and have already filled hard disks with hundreds of GB worth of data.

  From how we know it today, how different will the world be in 20 years?

• I Bet You Can

  Posted: February 6, 2010, 8:50 am by Administrator

  The other day, I made a bet with a total stranger who didn’t believe that it is possible for anyone to swim 50 lengths of the swimming pool without stopping. And it all started when I mentioned that I like swimming. That is when she asked how many lengths I can make in a pool. And so I said 50 because that was the number that I had done earlier in the day. She called me a liar, and that is when we shook hands on the bet for KShs. 1,000.

  But neither would I have thought that swimming for a long distance was possible had I not lived in Mombasa about 2 years ago. In fact, I would have summed it in the same way that my friend did in an email, “When I go into the pool I’m so anxious to make this lap… and that lap… up to there, then I have chlorine in my eyes and in my mouth and after a few minutes I want to get out .” In the 6 months that I stayed at the coastal town, I would swim out into the open sea each day that I went to the beach. I would swim for as far as my courage and strength would allow me to. In the process, I learnt that the secret to swimming for long or far is to be relaxed; and especially if you are swimming in salty water, and against the waves.

  Now, what is the number 1 secret to being relaxed? Breathe!

  If you breathe effectively as you swim, it can become as effortless as walking, and with a little practice with your stroke you can easily do 50 or more lengths. It is possible to do this because it requires very little effort from your side to float or for your body to move through water. Why? Because of the buoying properties of water. Now imagine, if you were to walk up and down the length of a pool, how much effort would you require to do 50 lengths? Now imagine once again, if you were to walk up and down the length of a pool while holding your breathe, how many lengths would you be able to make? The only reason why many people only manage to blindly churn across the pool for a few meters and come up dazed is because they do it while holding their breathe. For anyone who thinks that swimming is hard work, learning how to breathe while in water totally changes everything!

  If you can breathe effectively as you swim – or as you do anything else for that matter – then it becomes as effortless as walking.

• Happiness FM

  Posted: January 28, 2010, 7:43 am by Administrator

  If you have ever listened to news on a radio on Short Wave (SW) frequency, then you know that it is as dodgy as an artist trying to make a painting of clothes on a hanging line on a windy day. The voice of the announcer seems to drift in and out of clear hearing range, and one is forced to impatiently tinker with the dial in order to lock in the sound, if only to hear an importance announcement.

  And so it seems to be for most people as far as happiness is concerned. One moment they have it, and the next they are trying to do something in order to get it back. It becomes a very fleeting business that is rife with frustration. And looking for happiness can become a very unhappy affair!

  But is it possible to have a strong and purposeful grip of happiness? Can it be as clear and focused as the sound that comes from a radio of Frequency Modulation (FM)? Yes. And the reason is because it is something that is within our conscious control. Perhaps the virility of happiness can be captured in the meaning of the following quote by Abraham Lincoln (16th President of the United States):

  “Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”

• Comfort Zone

  Posted: January 28, 2010, 7:21 am by Administrator

  Someone asked me about the ‘Comfort Zone’. The first thing that came to mind is the fact that we all are looking for happiness in life. And each time we find happiness, we simultaneously discover a comfort zone. And yet, we are discouraged from being in the comfort zone. Conventional wisdom seems to suggest that we should always be looking for the bigger, better, shinier thing, and (quietly) implies that once we get it, we will be happier. In other words, postpone your happiness for another day or month or year. Surprisingly, the ardent proponents of this theory always tend to change their minds when all is said and done, and instead argue that people find out what is truly important in their lives early enough and enjoy it often.

  So, what is it that is important in life? Is it wealth? Is it serving others? Is it giving time to religious causes? I have seen people who spend all their waking hours serving humanity, yet they do not consider what they do to be important enough to warrant a life time commitment. I have seen people who ‘work for God’ gladly walk out of that obligation to take up ‘human work’. We all have heard about or seen people who give up their wealth and affluent living to settle for modest lifestyles.

  So, what is it that is important in life? If I was to think of the one single thing that I would say gives life meaning, it would be that which makes us happy. And yet, happiness puts us squarely in a comfort zone. Now, is that so bad?

• Swimming Goggles

  Posted: January 27, 2010, 8:42 am by Administrator

  I recently discovered a nice swimming spot in town. It is at the Meridian Court Hotel near the Globe Cinema Roundabout in Nairobi. The swimming pool is at the roof top of the hotel building 6 floors up. Compared to other swimming pools in Nairobi, it is large and clean, and not crowded at all. The cover charge per day is KShs. 200 and it is open to the public every day till 6pm. When I went there to swim on Sunday, I became concerned since my eyes became red and irritated. That usually happens each time I would go swimming and I attributed it to the Chlorine that is used to treat water in a swimming pool. Since I plan to swim at least 3 times a week, I decided to get myself a pair of swimming goggles to try and remedy the situation.

  I did not know what to expect since I have never used swimming goggles before. Actually, each time I see anyone with a pair at the pool, I always assume that they are expert swimmers. In my mind, I associated anyone with a pair of swimming goggles and those tight briefs to be an expert swimmer. Maybe in the same way that I would expect anyone carrying a surfing board to be able to ride a wave.

  And so yesterday I went to Nairobi Sports House to buy myself a pair of goggles. I have to admit that I was surprised to find most of them to be over KShs. 1,500. The most I had expected to spend was KShs. 600. Anyway, I got a good pair after parting with KShs. 2,100. The sales girl assured me that the ‘Speedo’ goggles would serve me well, and I said to myself “They had better!”

  When I got to the swimming pool later in the afternoon, I wore my swimming goggles and got into the water. Even though I was expecting that my eyes would remain dry throughout the swimming experience, I was surprised to realize that I had a window through which to look at life inside the swimming pool! I am sure you know how the pool water usually looks cloudy when you look through it and you can’t even see other swimmers until you are just about to painfully bump into them. With swimming goggles, everything is bright and clear. It actually feels like looking into an aquarium.

  At first, I kept getting out of breathe since I would forget that I was under water and stay too long without coming up for air. However, once I got used to the new vision, I began realizing the benefits of wearing swimming goggles. The first and most obvious benefit is that with a clear view of where you are going, it is so easy to free your mind to focus on your swimming techniques. For example I was able to practice swimming in a straight line since I could easily follow the small lines that are traced by the joints where two tiles come together on the swimming pool floor. Another benefit is that even when swimming under water, I could see the approach of those energetic guys who can easily mow you down as they furiously churn across the pool in a blind effort to get across by sheer brute force. And while steering clear of other swimmers you get the additional benefit of the guilt free thrill of discreetly checking them out from the waist below. Of course my eyes remained dry and for the first time, I came out of the swimming pool without any redness or sore vision.

• The Thinker and the Prover

  Posted: January 26, 2010, 9:39 am by Administrator

  My head is toying around with a quote that I read in a book; “The Thinker Thinks and the Prover Proves”. This saying is used in reference to our Conscious and Sub-Conscious mind. In general, it refers to the Conscious mind as the Thinker and the Sub-Conscious mind as the Prover. Being one of those people who once in a while gets lost in the woods of the concept of Conscious Mind and Sub-Conscious Mind, any explanation that comes along I welcome.

  I will try to explain what I understand about this saying by telling you a story of what happened on Friday evening. I got home early expecting to have a quiet evening when two of my friends called and said they were coming over. I was glad because we hadn’t met in a while even though we had been trying to set up a meeting for some time, in vain.

  When they arrived, we were all excited to share the news of what had been going on in our lives. But eventually, the conversation turned to an incident that happened in one of my friend’s office. It involved some two young men who were talking about drugs; in the casual way that two girlfriends might discuss the merits and demerits of a particular facial cream. In the course of that conversation, it emerged that the effects of one of the drugs is to make a person hallucinate ‘a little green man’. So, one of the young man advised the other, “If you see a little green man, just ignore him.” I would imagine that the little green man is a party pooper.

  My friend was so petrified at the prospect of seeing a little green man that the rest of us brought up all sorts of stories to make fun of her. Soon, we exhausted the story of the little green man, and it emerged that my friend was carrying a copy of a movie called, “What the Blip do we Know?” None of us had watched it and when I put it in the DVD player, we all found ourselves captivated by the promising beginning. And so we decided to settle down and watch the movie.

  The movie generally explains how we can free ourselves from destructive tendencies that we all find ourselves acting out over and over again in our lives. It talked about taking charge of life through understanding how we get ‘hooked’ into destructive cycles and addictions that we just cannot seem to break out of. For example, there was an overweight man at a party who was gorging himself with food to the point of bursting, and yet he continued even though he wanted to stop; he was addicted to food. In the explanation to how the situation comes about, the movie talks about the emotional attachment that the man had on food, and the dependency that his body had on the chemicals secreted by the thoughts that trigger the eating binge. Those retrogressive thoughts were represented as little green men that talked to the overweight man and mercilessly prodded him to eat.

  When we got to that point of the movie, my ‘little green man’ friend suddenly shot up in disbelief. She just couldn’t fathom the fact that she had ‘attracted’ little green men in her life! It was pretty amazing to watch her reaction. She was even concerned that the overeating man didn’t take the advice to ignore the little green man!

  “The Thinker Thinks and the Prover Proves”: My friend consciously thought about little green men, and her sub-conscious mind – the Prover – materialized little green men.

  How do we end up with a habit? When the Thinker thinks and the Prover proves for long enough, then the Prover will become so competent that he will prove even without the Thinker having to think. The Prover just needs a signal – for example an image that existed whenever the Thinker thought – to know that it is yet again time to prove. The habit will become as automatic as looking up and down the road before crossing, or opening the mouth when a spoon approaches with food. Do we think about such things? And yet at some point in life, we had to learn by consciously thinking about it.

  How do we break a habit? By having a different thought each time we are confronted with the same old situation that we do not want to re-live. The Thinker will think a different thought and the Prover will prove a different reality. Which comes down to what we already know; to break a habit, replace it with another habit.

  It has been proven that when you follow a sequence of events for 21 days in a row, or for 21 times, then you form a habit. Any subsequent time you follow the same sequence of events, you reinforce the habit: similar to how the wheels of a car make a deeper imprint onto a dirt road with each subsequent pass. To break a habit? Try having a different thought each time confronted with the same old situation that you do not want for 21 days in a row. Not necessarily easy to do, but possible.

• Taming

  Posted: January 25, 2010, 9:58 am by Administrator

  I have a friend who wakes up one day and re-organizes her whole house. Prior to that, she would be brooding or be in one of those places where people go to when they need answers. Then one day I asked her, “What would happen if you felt the urge to re-organize and just resisted it?” The reason why I asked is that I figured that at that moment of re-organization, she has very powerful energy inside her that was capable of seeing the same puzzle but with the pieces arranged differently. If she didn’t spend it on organizing furniture, then it would be used inside to re-organize the pieces of the puzzle of her life.

  Well, I never got to convince her not to re-organize, but I often thought about it. And then in a discussion with another friend, she told me that when sexual energy threatens to destabilize her, she uses it to write poems. However, she couldn’t offer the explanation of the steps of how that happened because to her, it was normal.

  The reason why I was curious was because I couldn’t have imagined how one can ignore the furiously pounding heartbeat of a lustful mind for anything else in this world. At least not until I asked myself; “What if I use that energy instead to re-arrange my house?” Incredibly, I was able to shelve lust in that moment and managed to re-organized my house; furiously. And I remembered my friend.

  And even sometimes when I am in the middle of a storm and I feel compelled to do something – if only to get a distraction from the battering – I decide not to do anything at all. When that happens, you might get bewildered to feel the energy burn itself out like a wood camp fire when the campers retreat into the tent for the night. Have you ever opened a Coke bottle and the drink just bubbles to the top and you were afraid that it would pour? You moved the bottle away from you in anticipation of the dark liquid cascading over and making a mess on clean surfaces. But then, the hissing bubbles barely make it over the rim and quietly hiss back into the bottle. Can you imagine the relief? Well, that is how it feels like when you feel the tornado die down slowly to a wind that only flutters the leaves on a tree.

  Just ask yourself, “What if I use this energy instead to….?” And something just might happen.

• One Eye and Then Another

  Posted: January 23, 2010, 10:27 am by Administrator

  In a conversation with his friend Andre Marchand, the French artist Henri Matisse described the process of passing perceptions from one way of looking to another:

  “Do you know that a man has only one eye which sees and registers everything; this eye, like a superb camera which takes minute pictures, very sharp, tiny – and with that picture man tells himself: ‘This time I know the reality of things,’ and he is calm for a moment. Then, slowly superimposing itself on the picture, another eye makes its appearance, invisibly, which makes an entirely different picture for him.

  “Then our man no longer sees clearly, a struggle begins between the first and second eye, the fight is fierce, finally the second eye has the upper hand, takes over and that’s the end of it. Now it has command of the situation, the second eye can then continue its work alone and elaborate its own picture according to the laws of interior vision. This very special eye is found here,” says Matisse, pointing to his brain.

  Marchand didn’t mention which side of his brain Matisse pointed to.

  -J. Flam
  Matisse on Art, 1973

  As Quoted in the Book ‘The New Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain‘
  By Betty Edwards

• The Making of Daily Bread

  Posted: August 29, 2009, 12:38 am by Administrator

  I haven’t seen one of my neighbors in a while. And so when I met him changing a flat tire of his truck at the parking lot this morning, we had a chance to catch up on what has been going on for the last few months.

  Well, my neighbor’s name is Joel and he has been in Narok town for a while. Narok is a farming town located some 2 hours drive from Nairobi. Narok is in the heart of the wheat producing region of Kenya, and I hear that it is dry and dusty. Apparently, it can be a shrewd business decision for anyone to lease land in which to farm wheat, and make a handsome profit from the venture. That is what Joel is currently doing.

  I remember him telling me about it a few years ago. At that time, it was just an idea that he way toying around with. Talking with him today, it is easy to tell that experience has a way of bolstering the words that come from a man’s mouth. Joel now talks with the authority of a seasoned wheat farmer, complete with a dusty, weather beaten, all terrain truck to prove it.

  Most of the small details about wheat farming that he mentioned with so much excitement I cannot remember. And as I said goodbye to Joel and went ahead to the shop to buy some breakfast, I wondered if this is a business I should consider getting into. But them I remembered that Joel told me that wheat season – from preparing the land for planting to harvesting – lasts a whole year. And that is when I saw the bread that I was holding absent mindedly, and realized that it has been a whole year in the making!

  It has taken a whole year – and all those things that Joel informed me that go into wheat farming – for the bread I was about to eat to land on my table. And as I went ahead to have my breakfast, it occurred to me that each time that we pray the simply line of the Lord’s prayer; “Give us this day our daily bread…” we usually are asking for instant outcomes that usually require tremendous input from individuals like Joel and many other people for hundreds of days.

  Most people are familiar with delayed prayers. Delayed prayers are the number one reason why people come out waving placards and protesting loudly (to anyone who will care to listen) about God’s unfairness. But what if the answer to our prayer is delayed because there were some unforeseen circumstances that Joel and his partners encountered in the current season, and they have to patiently wait until the next season before they can get a harvest? Or perhaps there is someone else who needs the bread as a matter of life and death and got preference over us? Or perhaps we took such a small thing as a loaf of bread for granted and forgot to give thanks?

  Well, who knows? As I said, most of the details that Joel mentioned about wheat farming are still vague to me.

• Gratitude in 20 Years

  Posted: August 29, 2009, 12:36 am by Administrator

  A friend once noted that when our parents were much younger, it was very easy for a person to acquire land within the relatively undeveloped Nairobi town back then. The observation came up during a conversation in which we were complaining about the high cost of office space within the city centre. My friend said, “If our fathers had acquired land in the city in the 60s and 70s, we would now be enjoying the benefits that the children of the men with vision now enjoy.” We both kept quite as we imagined the benefits that children of visionaries enjoy. But before long, my friend intruded into the daydreams by saying, “You know what? 20 years from now, our children will be having this conversation if we fail to acquire that which will be valuable to them then.”

  Looking back at that conversation, I often wonder what it is that will be of value in 20 year’s time. That thing is currently readily available, and as a result has a very low value attached to it – just like land in the city was readily available, and hence had much lower value in the 60s and 70s than in has now. But I suppose the challenge is to identify that thing and invest in it now. But given that people have the tendency of coveting the thing that seems overpriced at any particular moment, it might seem kind of foolish for a person to get his or her eyes from the ball and run after ‘useless’ things: maybe as ridiculous as Noah might have looked when he spent a good 100 years of his life constructing a boat in the desert.

  I suppose the consolation here is that that ‘useless’ thing that you or I spend so much time doing today, might just be that which will give our lives work meaning in years to come and perhaps that which our children will thank us for in 20 years time.

• Gratitude in 20 Years

  Posted: August 29, 2009, 5:54 pm by Administrator

  A friend once noted that when our parents were much younger, it was very easy for a person to acquire land within the relatively undeveloped Nairobi town back then. The observation came up during a conversation in which we were complaining about the high cost of office space within the city centre. My friend said, “If our fathers had acquired land in the city in the 60s and 70s, we would now be enjoying the benefits that the children of the men with vision now enjoy.” We both kept quite as we imagined the benefits that children of visionaries enjoy. But before long, my friend intruded into the daydreams by saying, “You know what? 20 years from now, our children will be having this conversation if we fail to acquire that which will be valuable to them then.”

  Looking back at that conversation, I often wonder what it is that will be of value in 20 year’s time. That thing is currently readily available, and as a result has a very low value attached to it – just like land in the city was readily available, and hence had much lower value in the 60s and 70s than in has now. But I suppose the challenge is to identify that thing and invest in it now. But given that people have the tendency of coveting the thing that seems overpriced at any particular moment, it might seem kind of foolish for a person to get his or her eyes from the ball and run after ‘useless’ things: maybe as ridiculous as Noah might have looked when he spent a good 100 years of his life constructing a boat in the desert.

  I suppose the consolation here is that that ‘useless’ thing that you or I spend so much time doing today, might just be that which will give our lives work meaning in years to come and perhaps that which our children will thank us for in 20 years time.

• The Making of Daily Bread

  Posted: August 29, 2009, 3:44 pm by Administrator

  I haven’t seen one of my neighbors in a while. And so when I met him changing a flat tire of his truck at the parking lot this morning, we had a chance to catch up on what has been going on for the last few months.

  Well, my neighbor’s name is Joel and he has been in Narok town for a while. Narok is a farming town located some 2 hours drive from Nairobi. Narok is in the heart of the wheat producing region of Kenya, and I hear that it is dry and dusty. Apparently, it can be a shrewd business decision for anyone to lease land in which to farm wheat, and make a handsome profit from the venture. That is what Joel is currently doing.

  I remember him telling me about it a few years ago. At that time, it was just an idea that he way toying around with. Talking with him today, it is easy to tell that experience has a way of bolstering the words that come from a man’s mouth. Joel now talks with the authority of a seasoned wheat farmer, complete with a dusty, weather beaten, all terrain truck to prove it.

  Most of the small details about wheat farming that he mentioned with so much excitement I cannot remember. And as I said goodbye to Joel and went ahead to the shop to buy some breakfast, I wondered if this is a business I should consider getting into. But them I remembered that Joel told me that wheat season – from preparing the land for planting to harvesting – lasts a whole year. And that is when I saw the bread that I was holding absent mindedly, and realized that it has been a whole year in the making!

  It has taken a whole year – and all those things that Joel informed me that go into wheat farming – for the bread I was about to eat to land on my table. And as I went ahead to have my breakfast, it occurred to me that each time that we pray the simply line of the Lord’s prayer; “Give us this day our daily bread…” we usually are asking for instant outcomes that usually require tremendous input from individuals like Joel and many other people for hundreds of days.

  Most people are familiar with delayed prayers. Delayed prayers are the number one reason why people come out waving placards and protesting loudly (to anyone who will care to listen) about God’s unfairness. But what if the answer to our prayer is delayed because there were some unforeseen circumstances that Joel and his partners encountered in the current season, and they have to patiently wait until the next season before they can get a harvest? Or perhaps there is someone else who needs the bread as a matter of life and death and got preference over us? Or perhaps we took such a small thing as a loaf of bread for granted and forgot to give thanks?

  Well, who knows? As I said, most of the details that Joel mentioned about wheat farming are still vague to me.

Haidhuru

• Shouldn’t I be over this isht by now?

  Posted: May 8, 2009, 1:57 am by Administrator

  So, as y’all know, I heeded the siren of “the motherland” and found myself home. Yay! (for me). Not so yay! (for all those who owed me pints). And found to my amazement and shock, that news of the total mortuary that is the pool of eligible, hawt jamaas (over a certain age that is) had been greatly exaggerated. And also found out to my surprised delight that yes, even “old broads” (like me- as didn’t you hear? If you’re over 22, you’re like so not supposed to be buying unripe mangoes and stuff) can still pull a nice jamaa. What can I say? I’m fabulous *Mutumia strikes a Kimora Lee-Simmons pose*

  But yet… still… despite my obvious bliss at having a hawt, eligible jamaa who my mum finally approves of as “He’s from a good family. Actually, we’d gone with his mum for the wedding of his uncle who is a very, very senior sergeant in the army” (and having to break it down for my mum “Mummy, but surely, there is no such thing as a ‘very, very senior sergeant’ tondu sarge is a rank.” Yeah, conversations that needed a lot of tea coz mathi hachezi!! She goes down hard!!)….

  Still…bado, there’s a fly in my ointment. A bone in my papa-samaks fish fillet. A crusty elastoplast in my chips masala.

  What’s that you say Mutumia?

  Glad you asked. See, for the life of me, despite my father , my brothers, sijui cousins and cousin-brothers being Kenyan jamaas. I still.do.not.understand.them!!! Like for example, when did our guys get so good at the Houdini aka the art and craft of giving perfect answers to a question that HE wants to answer, rather than the question you asked? Ama at the second cousin of the Houdini the “say whaaa???” where YOUR question is deflected with a question that seems to answer your question. Only it doesn’t? Kwa mfano…

  Xhibit Moja
  Her: Um… baby… so what do I put in my Facebook status? ‘Cause you know, ‘It’s complicated’ is just… well, silly. So? I tag you we’re in a relationship?
  Him: Now… yaani. Chick- you think a guy crosses 50 kilometers to see a chick that is just fua? Gas is still hovering closer to 100 hundred (pronounced “one handa”) than fifty bob. Ama you see me as that frivolous burning gas for no reason?”
  Her: Awwwwwww…

  Exbibit 2:
  (after realizing three days later that above question was not answered)
  Her: So… what exactly did you mean? Are the cows for my folks landing soonest or not? (Hey! My mayais as I learnt, are the same ones I was born with!!! They needs to be used soonest before they expire. Um.. sort of… After we see the world a little bit. And play house. And build a little bit of the empire. So sue me, my clock ain’t quite ticking yet).
  Him: *bursts out into a belly shaking laugh* … Yaani chick- that’s the shiz that keeps you awake at night? Nah, nah, nah. Stop losing sleep over stuff that is not [insert wavy hand motion here that I think means ‘quit worrying’ only I don’t really know as I’ve also seen it done by watchies who are ‘helping’ you park your car by motioning how you should go and they throw you a ka-wave a la Breakdance and jiggle their body to show you how your car should go] …

  *sigh*

  But yet, it’s all gravy. So good to be back. So here’s to Senior Sergeants, sex boycotts, that abomination from hell called football, and understanding the K-man.

Cock And Bull

• Come and let me Look in Your Eyes

  Posted: February 23, 2009, 9:45 am by Administrator

  I guess growing isn’t hard to do
  Just stand against the wall
  Once I was just two feet high
  Today I’m six feet tall

  But knowing who to listen to
  Is something else again
  Words just whistle ’round my head
  Like seasons in the wind

  All across the water the clouds are sailing
  They won’t let me look at the sky
  All I want to do is try and find myself
  Come and let me look in your eyes

  In searching for the way to go
  I’ve followed all the rules
  The way they say to chooses between
  The wise men and the fools

  I listen to the words they say
  I read what I should read
  I do whatever’s right to do
  Try to be what I should be

  Someone let me in I think the sky is falling
  Seems I’ve gotten lost on my way
  All I want to do is try and find myself
  Come and let me look in your eyes

  Ah, but wisdom isn’t underground
  Nor on a mountainside
  And where am I to take myself
  There’s no place here to hide

  All across the universe the stars are fading
  Seems we’ve gotten lost on our way
  All I want to do is try and find myself
  Come and let me look in your eyes
  Come and let me look in your eyes
  Come and let me look in your eyes

  Words by John Denver and Joe Henry
  - Music by John Denver

• Dance of Life

  Posted: February 23, 2009, 8:02 am by Administrator

  I read somewhere a few days ago that ‘the real dance of life takes place between the person that you once were and the person that you are becoming’. Since then I have thought about life and about the dance floor.

  There is a dance that is energetic and fun and very joyful and life is filled with sunshine and butterflies, and the dance that is fast and furious and almost violent and life is filled with drama and tempest. I have thought about the dance that is slow and sensual and very calming – one that happens when a person knows the place of love, and the one that is slow and melancholic and very lonely – one where a person will not find completeness even in the middle of a crowd.

  When who I have been and who I am becoming are too radically different, my dance of life is like that of partners that have never danced together before – quite jagged and might result in smarting toes. On the other hand if who I have been and who I am becoming isn’t much different, my dance of life is very lethargic – and yet it gives a chance to feel and to savor and to appreciate. Whatever the case might be now, life does not let us dance to the same rhythm for too long.

• The Simple

  Posted: February 20, 2009, 7:59 am by Administrator

  I first saw him about two years ago while I was walking down the corner from where I live; a young man in his twenties. He was looking up at a banana tree where a small ball with a string attached to it was hanging. It was obvious at first glance that he was different; from the way that his mouth was twisted in a wet grin and the hand seemed to hang half-heartedly on his side. I concluded that he was one of those people that we call “mentally retarded”. On that day, I quietly went past him without much thought, and left him behind in his serious contemplation on how to get the ball from up the tree.

  I saw him again about a month ago. On that day, he was running behind a huge truck in high excitement. The lorry was traveling slowly on the bumpy road and he did not have much trouble keeping up. As the lorry passed by in a cloud of dry February dust, the young man jogged behind it, pointing it out to me and shouting “kilori!” – meaning – “big lorry!” Since that day, I have come to learn that he really likes lorries since I have seen him hanging around a neighborhood yard where lorries are parked – just waiting for one to move so that he can run after it.

  The day before yesterday, I was walking around the corner from where I live and came across him. It was the same place where I saw him for the first time. This time, he was just standing as if confused by a decision of where to go next. When he saw me, he shouted “Mambo!” – meaning “What’s up!” That word was uttered with the difficulty of a heavy tongue that people with such a condition endure, and yet there is only one “normal” person that I know who says “Mambo!” with as much enthusiastic sincerity as the young man. And as I said Hi to him, he extended his arm for a handshake. When I extended mine, he grabbed it with an oversized palm and covered it with his second palm in a ‘power handshake’ that many seasoned politicians would envy. And then, he held on to my hand briefly and started walking in the direction where I was going. He walked with me for about 20 meters and in that time, we had a little conversation. He can only manage one word at a time and when I asked him his name, he said “Annan”. When I asked him where he lived, he pointed towards the direction we were walking from. When I mentioned the word “lorry”, he became animated and started uttering words such as “big lorry” and “road” and “town”. By then we met another person and he once again offered a warm, “Mambo!” to the man. The man responded warmly to him, and it seemed like they knew each other well, and I left them together.

  It was simplicity that the young man reminded me of. I vividly remember how much fun it used to be when I was a boy to run after a lorry on a dusty village trail. What is a lorry now? A noisy engine that disturbs my peace when I am on the cell phone and covers me in dust when I am hurrying along in my bright shirt? It was sincerity that the young man reminded me of. When did I last feel compelled to use a double handed handshake molded by the warmth of the heart? When did I say “Mambo!” to a total stranger without a second thought? It is such encounters that remind us that humanity is much more than what people look like and that the spirit cannot be suppressed by any human condition.

• The Diamond Necklace Of The Heart

  Posted: February 19, 2009, 1:30 am by Administrator

  There is the story that is told of the woman who owned a diamond necklace. One day she was at home frantically looking everywhere for it – from room to room in her mansion – not knowing that all the while it was hanging around her neck. This story was told to illustrate to us that we might look all around us for Peace, joy, health and well-being not knowing that these treasure can only be found inside us. If the woman had looked at a mirror, she would have seen that she had the precious necklace all the while. What is the mirror that we can use to see the treasures inside? Awareness. Awareness gives us the eyes to see the diamond necklace of the heart.

• Perhaps Love

  Posted: February 19, 2009, 1:04 am by Administrator

  Perhaps love is like a resting place
  A shelter from the storm
  It exists to give you comfort
  It is there to keep you warm
  And in those times of trouble
  When you are most alone
  The memory of love will bring you home

  Perhaps love is like a window
  Perhaps an open door
  It invites you to come closer
  It wants to show you more
  And even if you lose yourself
  And don’t know what to do
  The memory of love will see you through

  Oh, love to some is like a cloud
  To some as strong as steel
  For some a way of living
  For some a way to feel
  And some say love is holding on
  And some say letting go
  And some say love is everything
  And some say they don’t know

  Perhaps love is like the ocean
  Full of conflict, full of Pain
  Like a fire when it’s cold outside
  Or thunder when it rains
  If I should live forever
  And all my dreams come true
  My memories of love will be of you

  - Song by John Denver

• The Keepers

  Posted: February 19, 2009, 1:01 am by Administrator

  I bought an internet modem from Safaricom about a month ago. It was at a time when the modems were going at a huge discount and it took me at least 2 hours of queuing before I could purchase the modem. After getting the modem, I asked for help from one of the assistants who showed me how to set it up on the computer after unpacking the modem from the box. But as soon as I got home, I realized that I had forgotten to re-park the card containing the details of the pin number for the sim card that the modem was using. However, the thought of the crowds as Safaricom lounge along Kimathi Street kept me from going back to look for the card. I wondered, where would I start looking anyway?

  Today, I needed to load more credit in order to continue using the modem, but I realized that I needed one of the numbers on the card that I left on a bench at Safaricom about a month ago. So, I decided to go back to the Safaricom lounge on Kimathi Street and ask for help. Hopefully, the technicians would figure out how to add more money to the modem without the missing number.

  When I arrived at Safaricom, there were relatively few people, and I went to the nearest technician to explain my problem. When I told him that I lost the card about a month ago, he put on a forlorn face and told me that customers always make the mistake of leaving behind their cards and it would be almost impossible to trace mine amongst the hundreds available. With that, he asked to see my modem. When I gave it to him, he turned it around and looked at the markings on the sim card. He them reached into his wallet and removed a card and compared the numbers on it with the numbers on my modem’s sim card. He then said, “This is the card that you lost. It is good that you have come back since I have kept it in my wallet since that day.”

  Two things surprised me; that of all the cards that have been left behind, mine was the one in his wallet. Why would he think of putting it in his wallet? Of all the technicians that were there today, I went straight to him. How did he even think about comparing my modem’s sim card with the card in his wallet? I couldn’t hide my curiosity and so I asked him about the coincidence. To which he said that he remembered me from that day that I bought the modem and he knew that I would go back.

  I have now become used to these kinds of coincidences and no longer spend too much time with my jaw hanging open. But as I was walking away from Safaricom, I was reminded once again that despite our not knowing it, there are forces that are always working in our favor in the background. Our Keepers. About the incident, my friend said, “Some things are meant to be.”

• The Reassured 50

  Posted: February 19, 2009, 12:21 am by Administrator

  As I clear the clutter of receipts and scraps of papers that accumulated in the pockets of the clothes that I wore today, I look inside my wallet and see a tattered 50 shillings note. It is among other notes that are clean and crisp. Of all the money that is in my wallet, the 50 shillings note is the only one that I did not get from the bank. I think about removing it from the wallet, but then I change my mind and decide to let it stay. And as I finish clearing the clutter, the story of the tattered 50 shillings note suddenly comes to mind.

  While I was going to work in the morning, some school boys boarded the public transport matatu that I was traveling in. When the time came for everyone to pay their fare, one of the boys gave a 100 shillings note, and was given back a 50 shillings note as his change. However, he angrily thrust the note back at the conductor since it looked old and dirty. The conductor must have been offended by the boy’s rudeness since he refused to change the note for him, and they began arguing over the issue. I was amused when the conductor matter of factly told the school boy that the 50 shillings note was not meant for hanging in the house, and so its beauty did not really matter. But that only incensed the boy who insisted on getting a different note from the conductor to no avail. And that is when I fished a clean 50 shillings note from my pocket and exchanged it with the school boy’s. That is how the tattered 50 shillings note ended up in my wallet.

  When I look at the tired 50 shillings note, all I can think is that rejection can sometimes make a person lose themselves in self pity and easily forget his or her true value. In the face, the 50 shillings note looks tattered, and yet its value is exactly the same as all the other 50 shillings notes in the country. And as I think about the 50 in my wallet hanging out with all the 100s and 200s and 500s and 1000s, I know that this might just be what it needs right now; to know that others accept it as it is. For just like each one of us once in a while, a tattered 50 needs to hear someone tell it that everything will be OK.

• Garden Song

  Posted: February 3, 2009, 8:39 am by Administrator

  Inch by inch, row by row
  Gonna make this garden grow
  All it takes is a rake and a hoe
  And a piece of fertile ground

  Inch by inch, row by row
  Someone bless these seeds I sow
  Someone warm them from below
  Till the rain comes tumblin’ down

  Pullin’ weeds and pickin’ stones
  Man is made of dreams and bones
  Feel the need to grow my own
  Cause the time is close at hand

  Rainful rain, sun and rain
  Find my way in nature’s chain
  Tune my body and my brain
  To the music from the land

  Plant your rows straight and long
  Temper them with prayer and song
  Mother earth will make you strong
  If you give her love and care

  Old crow watchin’ hungrily
  From his perch in yonder tree
  In my garden I’m as free
  As that feathered thief up there

  - Song by John Denver

  Watch Youtube

• What Is Meant To Be

  Posted: January 22, 2009, 12:25 pm by Administrator

  I stopped by Mambo’s shop this morning on my way to work when he invited me for a cup of tea. And while I was being handed over the tea in a blue plastic mug by his wife, Mambo was busy shoeing off an eagle that was circling in the air. The eagle had come dangerously low to the ground where several young chicks were busy feeding on some morsels of grain. And as Mambo came over to join me after scaring off the eagle, I inquired about the whereabouts of the mother hen. To which Mambo answered that it had been stolen. But before he could elaborate, a policeman from the local cop station passed by the shop and Mambo started exchanging morning pleasantries in a loud jovial voice as is common for him when any of his customers or person that he knows passes by. And at that point, Mambo’s wife picked up the story about the mother hen.

  A while ago, the mother hen laid its eggs and when the time to brood came, it faithfully sat on them as is normal for a mother hen. Ordinarily, it would sit on them for three weeks, and then the chicks would hatch. However, the Mambo family was shocked to discover one afternoon that the mother hen was missing. This was 16 days into the brooding period. The mother hen had been stolen! They did not know what to do with the eggs since without the mother hen to provide warmth, the developing chicks would die within an hour.

  But as fate would have it, their neighbor had a mother hen that was also in the brooding stage. And by another stroke of fate, the mother hen was without eggs to sit on since the neighbour’s family had eaten all its eggs. And so Mambo borrowed the neighbor’s hen and it gladly sat on the eggs and kept them warm until the chicks hatched 5 days later. The surrogate mother hen then was allowed to take care of the chicks for a few days before being returned back to its owner.

  What struck me about the story was the happy coincidence of having another brooding hen at the neighbour’s. When a chicken lays its eggs and the brooding stage or time to sit on the eggs comes and there are no eggs to sit on, then the stage passes within 5 days. That is why it is easy to see the serendipity that brought the chicks to be.

  And as I finished my tea and walked away from Mambo’s shop, I knew that my belief that what is meant to be will be had just been affirmed once again.

• Habit

  Posted: December 24, 2008, 2:50 pm by Administrator

  I am your constant companion,
  I am your greatest helper or your heaviest burden.
  I will push you onward or drag you down to failure.
  I am at your command.

  Half of the tasks that you do you might just as well
  Turn over to me and I will do them quickly and correctly.
  I am easily managed; you must merely be firm with me.
  Show me exactly how you want something done.
  After a few lessons, I will do it automatically.

  I am the servant of all great people
  And the regret of all failures as well.
  Those who are great, I have made great.
  Those who are failures, I have made failures.

  I am not a machine but I will work with all its precision
  Plus the intelligence of a person.

  Now you may run me for profit or you may run me for ruin.
  It makes no difference to me.

  Take me, train me, be firm with me and
  I will lay the world at your feet.
  Be easy with me and I will destroy you.
  I am called Habit!

  - Author Unknown

• A New Earth

  Posted: December 9, 2008, 7:49 am by Administrator

  A New Earth - Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose by Eckhart Tolle the best selling author of The Power of Now, is one of those books whose review would best be left to the reader. If you have read it, you might know what I mean. You might also know that on Monday, March 3rd 2008, TV personality Oprah Winfrey attempted something that’s never been done before. Over 500,000 people simultaneously logged on to watch Oprah Winfrey and Eckhart Tolle lead a live interactive classroom discussion. Each Monday night for the next ten weeks, Oprah and Eckhart Tolle held meetings with people around the world to discuss A New Earth and the significance it has for each of our lives. Each weekly class corresponded to a chapter from A New Earth, with the discussion focusing on the chapter’s themes. Each class was at least one and a half hours long. You can watch or download the webcasts here. Alternatively, you may download the following torrent. If you are in Nairobi and would like a DVD copy of all the ten episodes of the webcast, contact me.

• 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!

• Tuesdays with Morrie

  Posted: September 17, 2008, 5:50 pm by Administrator

  Tuesdays with Morrie is a bestselling nonfiction book by American writer Mitch Albom, published in 1997. It tells the true story of Morrie Schwartz and his relationship with his student, Mitch Albom. The book chronicles the lessons about life that Mitch learns from his professor, who is dying from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease. Here is an excerpt from the book…

  One afternoon, I am complaining about the confusion of my age, what is expected of me versus what I want for myself.

  “Have I told you about the tension of opposites?” he says.

  The tension of opposites?

  “Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn’t. You take certain things for granted, even when you know you should never take anything for granted.

  “A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle. ”

  Sounds like a wrestling match, I say.

  “A wrestling match.” He laughs. “Yes, you could describe life that way.”

  So which side wins, I ask? ”

  “Which side wins?” He smiles at me, the crinkled eyes, the crooked teeth.

  “Love wins. Love always wins.”

  I flew to London a few weeks later. I was covering Wimbledon, the world’s premier tennis competition and one of the few events I go to where the crowd never boos and no one is drunk in the parking lot. England was warm and cloudy, and each morning I walked the treelined streets near the tennis courts, passing teenagers cued up for leftover tickets and vendors selling strawberries and cream. Outside the gate was a newsstand that sold a halfdozen colorful British tabloids, featuring photos of topless women, paparazzi pictures of the royal family, horoscopes, sports, lottery contests, and a wee bit of actual news. Their top headline of the day was written on a small chalkboard that leaned against the latest stack of papers, and usually read something like DIANA IN ROW WITH CHARLES! or GAZZA TO TEAM: GIVE ME MILLIONS!

  People scooped up these tabloids, devoured their gossip, and on previous trips to England, I had always done the same. But now, for some reason, I found myself thinking about Morrie whenever I read anything silly or mindless. I kept picturing him there, in the house with the Japanese maple and the hardwood floors, counting his breath, squeezing out every moment with his loved ones, while I spent so many hours on things that meant absolutely nothing to me personally: movie stars, supermodels, the latest noise out of Princess Di or Madonna or John F. Kennedy, Jr. In a strange way, I envied the quality of Morrie’s time even as I lamented its diminishing supply. Why did we, bother with all the distractions we did? Back home, the O. J. Simpson trial was in full swing, and there were people who surrendered their entire lunch hours watching it, then taped the rest so they could watch more at night. They didn’t know O. J. Simpson. They didn’t know anyone involved in the case. Yet they gave up days and weeks of their lives, addicted to someone else’s drama.

  I remembered what Morrie said during our visit: “The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it.”

  Morrie, true to these words, had developed his own culture-long before he got sick. Discussion groups, walks with friends, dancing to his music in the Harvard Square church. He started a project called Greenhouse, where poor people could receive mental health services. He read books to find new ideas for his classes, visited with colleagues, kept up with old students, wrote letters to distant friends. He took more time eating and looking at nature and wasted no time in front of TV sitcoms or “Movies of the Week.” He had created a cocoon of human activities conversation, interaction, affection-and it filled his life like an overflowing soup bowl.

  I had also developed my own culture. Work. I did four or five media jobs in England, juggling them like a clown. I spent eight hours a day on a computer, feeding my stories back to the States. Then I did TV pieces, traveling with a crew throughout parts of London. I also phoned in radio reports every morning and afternoon. This was not an abnormal load. Over the years, I had taken labor as my companion and had moved everything else to the side.

  In Wimbledon; I ate meals at my little wooden work cubicle and thought nothing of it. On one particularly crazy day, a crush of reporters had tried to chase down Andre Agassi and his famous girlfriend, Brooke Shields, and I had gotten knocked over by a British photographer who barely muttered “Sorry” before sweeping past, his huge metal lenses strapped around his neck. I thought of something else Morrie had told me: “So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they’re busy doing things they think are important. This is because they’re chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.”

  I knew he was right. Not that I did anything about it.

  At the end of the tournament-and the countless cups of coffee I drank to get through it-I closed my computer, cleaned out my cubicle, and went back to the apartment to pack. It was late. The TV was nothing but fuzz.

  I flew to Detroit, arrived late in the afternoon, dragged myself home and went to sleep. I awoke to a jolting piece of news: the unions at my newspaper had gone on strike. The place was shut down. There were picketers at the front entrance and marchers chanting up and down the street. As a member of the union, I had no choice: I was suddenly, and for the first time in my life, out of a job, out of a paycheck, and pitted against my employers. Union leaders called my home and warned me against any contact with my former editors, many of whom were my friends, telling me to hang up if they tried to call and plead their case.

  “We’re going to fight until we win!” the union leaders swore, sounding like soldiers.

  I felt confused and depressed. Although the TV and radio work were nice supplements, the newspaper had been my lifeline, my oxygen; when I saw my stories in print in each morning, I knew that, in at least one way, I was alive.

  Now it was gone. And as the strike continued-the first day, the second day, the third day-there were worried phone calls and rumors that this could go on for months. Everything I had known was upside down. There were sporting events each night that I would have gone to cover. Instead, I stayed home, watched them on TV. I had grown used to thinking readers somehow needed my column. I was stunned at how easily things went on without me.

  After a week of this, I picked up the phone and dialed Morrie’s number. Connie brought him to the phone. “You’re coming to visit me,” he said, less a question than a statement.

  Well. Could I?

  “How about Tuesday?”

  Tuesday would be good, I said. Tuesday would be fine.

• The Wolves Within Us

  Posted: July 15, 2008, 5:59 pm by Administrator

  Here is an email forward that I would like to share with you:

  A Cherokee tribal elder was telling his grandson about the battle the old man was waging inside himself. He said, “It is between two wolves, my son. One is an evil wolf: Anger, envy, sorrow, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is the good wolf: Joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.” The boy thought this over for a minute, and then asked his grandfather: “Which wolf wins?” The old Cherokee replied simply: “The one I feed.”

• Business As Unusual

  Posted: June 27, 2008, 1:07 pm by Administrator

  I had been noticing it much too often for a while, and so when I saw another blind man, I asked the business man from whom I was making a purchase, “Am I the one who is seeing too many blind people or is it a fact that there is an influx of blind beggars in town?” The business man straightened and walked towards me from the back of his shop as he said, “You are right that there is a sudden increase in the number of blind beggars in the streets.”

  If you live in Nairobi, you must have noticed the blind beggars being dragged by hand from place to place by young school going children. The beggars usually have a small plastic container with a few coins that they juggle periodically in order to attract the attention of any sympathetic well wisher. Perhaps you might even have been bothered by the fact that the young children seem to be wasting their school going days after being forced to accompany their ageing relatives on begging missions from street to street, inside businesses, and from drivers stuck in traffic jams.

  As he smiled, he added, “Begging has become a business just like this one I run.” And as he laid down the merchandise I had requested on the counter he continued, “Don’t be fooled into thinking that the children are relatives of the beggars. The are usually hired for the day to accompany the baggars.” And on seeing the bewildered look on my face he added, “There is a place where the beggars pick the children every morning for a standard fee, and so you see, both that boy and that blind old guy are in business.” He finished as he made a gesture with his lips towards the duo that was disappearing down the corner. With that, I made my purchase and walked in the direction opposite the one that the blind beggar and the boy had walked. Without a doubt, I knew I would be seeing many others in the course of the day. In Kenya if it is not business as usual, then it is business as unusual.

• President Ken’s Neighbor

  Posted: June 26, 2008, 6:21 pm by Administrator

  Last night I dreamt that my neighbor had become the president of Kenya. In the dream, I was there when he got the news and vividly remember the look of bewilderment that crossed his face. And so I asked him if he expected to become president to which he replied “I have been thinking about it since the beginning of the year.” When I woke up, I thought that it would be good if I could be able to share it with him. When I looked out of my window, I thought I might not get a chance since I saw his wife leaving the house and so I assumed they would leave together. And anyway, I have not seen him for several weeks.

  Three hours later when I was walking towards the road to town, a strange car pulled up to where I was and the passenger window was automatically wound down. I realized that the driver must be someone who knows me and who wanted to give me a lift. And when I looked, I saw that it was the neighbor from my dream. From my experience about the way ‘coincidences’ play out, I was not really surprised that it was him. And after exchanging hellos, I excitedly told him; “You are just the person I want to see…last night I dreamt that you became the president of Kenya.” To that he said, “Really?” with just as much excitement to match mine. He then said, “That’s a very good thought!” And from the way that he was fidgeting on his seat I could see that he was actually imagining himself being the president of Kenya. I continued to tell him the rest of the dream and when he drove away after I declined a lift, I could see that what I said had a positive effect on him.

  I suppose what struck me was the fact that he did not for a moment talk or act as if it was ‘just a dream’. The fact that he said “That’s a very good thought!” instead of “That was a very good dream!” made me realize that our dreams do not necessarily have to originate from us. It makes me smile to think that today I might have planted a seed in my neighbor’s mind that might blossom and make him the president of Kenya. If that comes to pass, I know it is not the seed, but rather, how he is going to nurture the resulting shoot until it becomes a whole tree. It is not the dream, but how much he is going to cherish the thought and work towards making it a reality. For even when I talked to him in the dream, he told me that he had been thinking about it for some time.

• Choosing Labels

  Posted: June 26, 2008, 5:46 pm by Administrator

  During one of my very first visits to Addis Ababa, I was given a traditional Ethiopian shirt as a present. The heavy while cotton fabric was hand woven and the embroidery had the yellow, green and red colors of the Ethiopian flag. I treasured it immediately, and thought it was the perfect outfit to wear on the day I was invited for the Ethiopian Easter celebrations at a friend’s house. When I arrived, the compound was crowded with guests and I soon lost sight of my friend soon after he welcomed me. But I didn’t mind since I felt quite at home and immediately began heading for the counter where I could get a drink.

  But before I could reach the counter, I was beckoned by a guy in a group of about 5 Ethiopians. And even without a hello, the guy started pouring out an order for drinks in the Amharic language, pointing to each person’s drink as he mentioned the name of the drink. When he finished, I politely told him in English that I did not understand the Amharic language since I was still new in Addis Ababa. With that, he immediately looked acutely embarrassed and profusely apologized while saying that he thought I was an Ethiopian. As I walked away, I was smiling to myself thinking that with my looks, I would not have trouble blending in with the people I was going to live with for the next 3 years. And as I was walking to find a place to sit after grabbing a drink, I felt a touch on my elbow and another Amharic order for alcohol was repeated.

  I was to later learn that during such social functions, waiters usually wear the traditional Ethiopian shirt in order to distinguish them from the guests. It then followed that whoever saw me wearing the shirt immediately assumed that I was a waiter and hence the order for drinks. When the host finally caught up with me, he was very amused by my unexpected experience and we laughed about it and hastily made a round in the compound as he introduced me to the other guests. Thus ended the short lived career of my Ethiopian shirt as a favorite wear during social occasions.

  That memory came back when I looked at the waiters at Ronalo Restaurant in Nairobi. They all have differently colored sleeveless sweaters to distinguish their various roles, with green for the ones who serve food, red for the ones who serve drinks, yellow for the ones who clean the tables and black for the supervisors. If you call a green topped waiter and send him for drinks, he will immediately summon a red topped waiter for you to send. Similarly, a yellow topped waiter can never agree to be sent for food since his job is to clean the tables.

  These waiters at Ronalo Restaurant often make me understand the power of labels in our lives. What’s in a label? A person who is defined by the name ‘waiter’, only does the job of waiting upon tables while others enjoy their meals or drinks. As long as he bears that label, he has no right to sit down, or mingle with other people, or seem to be enjoying himself by laughing with other waiters. Despite the fact that the waiter is simply an ordinary person such as you and I – and maybe just as brilliant – it would seem like his life is severely limited by the role given to him by the label. When that same person leaves the restaurant, he is at liberty to become whatever else he wishes. It would not be surprising if he was to transforms from a humble servant of the people to an aggressive member of the human society capable of doing and saying much. He can even become a customer in a restaurant to be waited upon by another waiter.

  What about the labels that people give themselves or are given by others and that define their performance in life? If one believes that his label is ‘rich’, then it is automatic for him to live in affluence in order to conform to the label. On the other hand, a person whose label is ‘poor’ will do whatever it takes to live in conformity with the definitions of the label. Incidentally, a person can only act out a particular label only if he accepts for it to define him regardless of whether he labeled himself or was labeled by others. The waiters at Ronalo Restaurant were labeled by the management as red, green, yellow, or black and accepted to play out the responsibilities that those colors carry.

  Fortunately it is a good thing that a waiter will only have that label for the period that he is working in a restaurant and drop it as soon as his shift is over. Labels that people accept in life like, ’successful’, ‘wealthy’, ‘loser’, ‘lucky’, ‘godly’, ‘important’, carry a more weighty significance since they define us in all our waking hours. So, whatever label that you choose to accept, make sure its definitions are worthwhile to you and the kind of life you plan to have.

• Choosing The Dog Or The Tail

  Posted: June 23, 2008, 2:55 am by Administrator

  Back at the university, I once found myself in trouble after mixing up with the wrong crowd. It happened when I was caught doing the senseless vandalism and destruction of property that university students are infamous for after a drinking spree. Several days later, I was summoned to the disciplinary committee after which I was suspended from the university halls of residence for a month with a heavy caution against such behavior. But the appearance before the group of university dons and administrators did not worry me half as much as facing my father. And since I knew he had been contacted by the university by post, I knew it was just a matter of days before I faced him.

  I think I was worried because I had generally been a well behaved student and had never had any kind of disciplinary problems from school before. How would I be able to explain to him that I had to wait to get to the university in order to do the foolish things that I could have done and gotten over with at nursery school? I decided that I would just tell him that I allowed myself to be influenced by others and it would not happen again. Anyway, when the day came, I went before him with all the courage I could muster. He was sitting from across me with a table between us and the letter from the university open before him wearing his spectacles in that ominous way that tells you that a hurricane is on the way. As I took my seat, I braced myself for the tirade and rehearsed my defense in my head one more time.

  But quite unexpectedly, his hot gust of words failed to come and instead he told me about the dog and its tail in a soft sorrowful voice that I hear in my head till today. He said that since time immemorial, the dog has had a tail. He added that always, the dog had wagged its tail, but never once did a tail wag the dog. Then he added, “You can decide to either be the tail or the dog.” I suppose the shock for me was in the approach that he took and what it meant; he did not ask me for the circumstances or the reasons as I would have expected. Neither did he give me a lecture about being a good citizen of the university or about right and wrong. He just asked me to make a decision that if made correctly was going to guide my life successfully from that time onwards.

  When I look back at that day, I realize that what he did was to throw my life at my feet and forced me to look down and decide what to do with it. It was a huge challenge after having been used to doing things to please him, and often doing others while looking over my shoulder to see if anyone was looking. The thought that I was now alone to guide myself through life was frightening and I even felt abandoned despite knowing that he was still there whenever I needed him. But since then, once in a while I will pause to examine myself to see if I am the dog or the tail. And whenever I hear an exasperated woman in a talk show exclaim, “All men are dogs!” I want to reassure her that the actions of one person do not characterize what all the others do and so she should probably look out for the men who are not dogs.

• Desiring a Graduation

  Posted: June 22, 2008, 1:27 am by Administrator

  In my primary school days it was imperative that one passes the exams for a certain class in order that they may be allowed to move to the next class. If a student failed to pass the exams, he or she would be forced to repeat the class all over again sometimes for several times until they passed. As a result, it was common to find a class of youngsters with one or two grown men or women who had been repeating their classes for many years. Right now there are many arguments in our school system for and against repetition of classes by students as a result of failure to make the pass mark with the opponents preferring for the students to continue with the next class whether they pass their exams or not.

  If you look at it, you realize that when it comes to personal development, life seems to favor the old system from my primary school days rather than smooth sailing from class to class regardless of the score sheet. That is why many people have asked the question, “Why does this happen to me all the time?” many times over, each time that they find themselves in the same trying circumstances. The circumstances keep repeating to the same person when he or she fails to analyze the problem and find the lesson that they are supposed to learn from it. As soon as the person learns a lesson that life is presenting to them and musters it, it automatically follows that the challenge is over and they rarely have to struggle with it again. On the other hand, when someone sees the challenge as life’s persecution of a good person for no particular reason, then they do not deal with the problem and hence it is bound to come back again. In other words a person fails to take responsibility for their own lives and leave it up to fate to decide what to do next. And since fate tends to be a strict class master, it does not allow the student to move to the next class and hence one is forced to repeat; the person is made to experience the same situation and once again is heard to moan, “Why does this happen to me all the time?”

  Whenever we are faced with a problem we usually react to it in one or more of the myriads of ways available – maybe getting upset, running away, crying, asking for help, passing it one, and sometimes even blocking the problem. It would therefore not be fair to ourselves or to others to claim that we are not doing anything to solve a problem. It would be more helpful therefore to recognize that when a problem persists or escalates it is usually as a result of reacting in an ineffective way for solving that problem more or less in the lines of the saying that goes, “When all you have is a hammer, then all problems look like a nail”. It would therefore be an excellent idea for each one to examine his or her life and identify which “hammer” he or she is holding in their hands. Anger is one of them, so is denial, blaming, violence and many others that are readily available to various individuals. Stopping to look at a problem that keeps recurring might enable a person to choose a swat to kill a mosquito, rather than continuing to cause havoc in the bedroom by trying to bring it down with a shotgun.

  Each time we find the same thing happening to us all over again, or recognize a cycle in our lives that we do not particularly like, we should stop and ask ourselves, “What should I do differently this time?” That might save us from the trouble of using the same ineffective tool to deal with it, and keep us from the heartache of experiencing the same situation repeating itself all over again. Of course one has to strongly desire a graduation from his or her current class in life and into the next. And as strict a class master as fate might be, you will find that she will readily smile at you if you do your homework well.

• Walking in Auntie Rose’s Plastic Shoes

  Posted: June 22, 2008, 11:26 pm by Administrator

  One day, Auntie Rose from my mother’s side visited our home for the weekend. What impressed me most about her visit – even much more than the presents – were the shoes that she was wearing. It was at the time when plastic shoes had just hit the Kenyan market, and ‘Sandaks’ were all the rage for the people in the lower income bracket. For the first time in the Kenyan history almost everyone could now wear shoes thanks to affordable plastic. Auntie Rose was wearing white plastic shoes that were molded like a moccasin. Again, it was around the time that moccasins were all the rage for teenagers from rich families much to the envy of boys from ordinary homes.

  It happened to be the weekend that my sister and I were going to visit my brother at his boarding High school and so in my most polite voice, I asked to borrow Auntie Rose’s shoes for the day. I did not like my leather ‘Bata’ shoes much, especially since one of the laces had been joined together in a knot after breaking. Auntie Rose was much older than I, but her feet were smaller. However, she had a large heart and so she readily agreed to lend me her shoes. And so after managing to stuff my feet inside the plastic, and smiling broadly to hide any sign of discomfort, we set off to visit my brother. In my eagerness to prove that the shoes were a prefect fit, I forgot to wear socks and being a hot and dusty day in February, I was in trouble as soon as we left the house.

  If you know about plastic ‘Sandaks’, then you know that wearing them at all was a blunder. And so putting them on without socks on a hot day was similar to walking inside a thermos flask filled with steaming mud. The reason is because the sweat from the suffocated feet mixed with the dust and created a quagmire that would make the shoes noisily slip on and off as I walked. Being a tight fit, the on and off motion was made excruciating by the fact that the toes were being pinched mercilessly with each step. To make matters worse, we found that my brother was away on an impromptu school trip and so we had to walk back as soon as we arrived hence missing the chance to rest my feet after walking a mile with my sister seeming to be oblivious of my ordeal. Of course she had warned about the tight fit, but I could not miss a chance to show off moccasins for once – even if they were plastic – had the formidable village council of elders been summoned to discourage me.

  When we got back home, I gave Auntie Rose her shoes back after cleaning them and thanked her profusely as if everything went perfectly. The next day, she seemed just as dashing wearing the white plastic shoes and she had when she arrived. And as I escorted her to the bus stop, she seemed surprisingly comfortable in her shoes and I could feel the blisters on my feet that came with a lesson that will last my whole lifetime.

  Often when we look at others, we tend to see what looks so good on them and in our envy, we imagine that the same would look just as good on us. I think it might take the form of what is called keeping up with the Joneses in some parts of the world. However, as I came to learn that day, the shoes that looked good on Auntie Rose were definitely not as good looking on me. Worse, they actually were much more uncomfortable than my ‘Bata’ shoes, despite their plain style and a knot on the shoe lace. When I look back at that day, and at life in general I understand that once in a while, we have to walk for miles in fake shoes in order to appreciate the true value of our own good pair of genuine shoes that we left back home.

• Unhiding Flesh and Blood

  Posted: June 22, 2008, 9:51 pm by Administrator

  The only toys that I have in my house are turtles. I now have 3, but I remember that I had more than that but reluctantly gave them away to kids who needed them more than me. I bought the toys some time ago when I had a project that required me to critically look at the features of a turtle. When the project failed to take off, I was left with a living room with many turtles and a drawer stuffed with materials for the project.

  Looking at a turtle, with a shell on its back I start thinking about our human condition. No one likes getting hurt. And that is why we sometimes become so afraid of feeling the pain that we create a tough amour in order to protect ourselves. Like the turtle and its hard shell that it can withdraw into, we create similar protection by erecting a wall that we can hide our hearts behind when we see danger approaching. And just as no one might know what really happened to the tortoise that it has to carry a bunker everywhere it goes, we feel that others might not quite understand why we have to erect the walls no matter how hard we might try to explain. When someone is concerned about us and wishes to spend time to listen to our side of the story, then we feel that we have a friend and it is easy to lower our guard and talk to them without running behind the wall.

  What if turtles really have shells in order to hide something from other turtles? Then if turtles were to have a consensus and decide to remove their shells one day, then they would all realize that what they had been hiding and protecting so fiercely all this time is simply flesh and blood. And not just the ordinary turtle would get this revelation, but also the king of turtles, the preacher of turtles, the blogger of turtles and all the others turtles that live. They would perhaps realize that they had all been hiding their turtleness, just as we often feel obliged to hide our humanity. Finding someone who looks at you with the same eyes with or without a shell on is a true blessing from God. And so I thank you my friend.

• Choices of Now

  Posted: June 22, 2008, 9:06 pm by Administrator

  I was recently talking to my grandmother who is celebrating her 90th year of age about a fact that seemed to surprise her; the fact that she now can sleep any time that she chooses at the drop of a hat. As she put it, God seemed to have given her back the sleep of a baby. And she is perfectly happy with that arrangement since she is getting sickly and being awake for long does not make as much sense as it used to. The sleep pattern and other new feelings she did not have before seemed to mesmerize her and she said audibly more to herself that to me, “I guess all this is new to me because I have never been old before.”

  When she said that, it caught me off guard because it never occurred to me that one would consider the discomforts and inconveniences of old age as a learning experience. As you know, nowadays old age is mostly viewed as a nightmare rather than a blessing and in the process of fighting it off, few would have a moment to sit in its classroom despite the fact that joy and peace of mind in at least a quarter of their lives depends on these lessons. But one might argue that this is the only way to look at the situation considering that the days of having an eager brood of grateful children, grandchildren or even great grandchildren to watch over you and take care of your needs as you wait upon the Lord are slowly coming to an end. That is one thing that my grandmother has, and which she attributes to her faithfulness to God since she was a young girl.

  All this reminds me of a time when she explained to me about what it feels like to be as old as she is. She gave me an example of an old person who would want to run to accomplish an easy errand such as a pressing bathroom call but cannot, and has to contend with the slow hurried gait of the elderly even as he feels the weak bladder give up its dignity right in the middle of the carpet in a living room full of people. She made me understand that for such a person though the spirit remains ageless, and the mind might be as active as ever, the aged body will not allow him or her to do the things that would have been easily possible when younger. And that is why old people are often filled with bitterness when they remember all the things that they could have done when they had the chance but didn’t. It is also the reason why the advanced in age see folly in many things that the young do, since they have the knowledge of what really matters in life, plus the experience to back it up. Unfortunately, it is to such people that the young do not listen to.

  If a person takes time to find out what truly matters in their lives, then they can choose it and move on with life with the confidence that whatever the discomforts of old age, they will not have a moment to look back and regret about the decisions they made or failed to make when they had the chance. May God make it easy for us to make the choices and accept the decisions that will propel us to where He wills for us to end up in this life and beyond.

• The Family Blanket Tradition

  Posted: June 21, 2008, 6:19 am by Administrator

  Each day that I make time to go and see my grandmother, I often find myself learning something so profound that makes the visits to the ailing 90 years old woman extremely worthwhile. Take the day before last as an example; she told me about the origin of the tradition that requires any groom marrying into our family to present the parents of his prospective wife with a blanket before betrothal. That story took us back to the time my grandmother got married to my grandfather in 1937.

  When the two did their wedding, she was 19 and he was 32. However, they had to overcome many hurdles even before they could walk down the isle. For a start my grandmother had many people – especially her age mates - discouraging her from getting married to him because of the age difference. There was also opposition from her own family since the man was very poor and came from a background of poverty as opposed to her wealthy upbringing. More opposition came because she was a saved Christian and he was not and also due to the fact that he had been in a marriage once before that did not work. But all that did not matter because both of them were determined to live their lives together.

  She told me the reasons why she decided to get married to him; because he did not take alcohol, because he was not the kind of man that fooled around with women, because she believed that they could become partners to rise above the challenges of life including poverty, and because she trusted that God had shone her the right man for a husband. With a smile, she told me that my grandfather was smitten by her beauty and the fact that she was what he was looking for in a wife. He was so determined to catch her fancy that he enrolled into school for the first time in his thirties in order to learn how to read and write, just so that he could be in the same school as she was. He also started taking an interest in Christianity and even got saved after they were married.

  In order to frustrate their efforts to get married, her family imposed very stringent dowry conditions such that it took many installments and a long time before my grandfather could ‘afford’ to walk away with my grandmother. My grandmother’s family would ask for some seemingly impossible payment after another, and each of these required my grandfather to go and find casual labor in Nairobi until he could earn enough money to pay for what was required. She told me of an occasion where he was asked to bring a sheep for a ‘get together’ slaughter, but it was rejected on the eve of the occasion on account that it wasn’t fat enough. Luckily, his determination had earned him enough goodwill from the village folks and the man with the fattest ram offered it to him for the slaughter.

  When he finally met all their conditions, it was time to take him wife. However, her parents said, “It is not fair that you should take away our daughter who used to light the fire to warm our aging bones without giving us a blanket in return.” And so once again the frustrated man had to go to Nairobi to find money for a new blanket. On the day that he bought the blanket, he was in the presence of his bride to be and he said loudly, “I swear that if we ever get daughters, each man that wishes to marry any one of them will have to buy us a blanket!” And so it was that the family tradition was born.

  God blessed them with 5 daughters that are all married. Apart from one of my aunties who eloped with her husband all the others had a blanket ‘paid’ for them at the right time. My grandmother explained that one day, my auntie got very sick. He legs were swollen and she could not move for the pain. When my grandmother saw her, something told her that the reason why she was suffering was because of the unpaid blanket. By then, my grandfather had been dead for years. Being a saved Christian, she was at a loss at what to do since she did not want to contradict her faith by talking about superstitions. At the same time, she could not demand for a blanket since my aunty and her husband were very poor then. And so, she decided to call the mother of my auntie’s husband and requested her to convince her son to buy a blanket and present it to his wife’s family as a matter of urgency. Luckily, he obliged even without knowing the reason, and my auntie got better soon after.

  That story got me marveling once again about the power of the spoken word. However, what was really my prize from that story is the prayer that my grandmother used to say before she got married. She told me that she would simply pray; “God, choose for me a husband that is suitable for me.” I found myself thinking of all those times that I dictate to God what I want in a situation, and then end the prayer by asking for His will to be done in my life without even considering that which would result from God’s will might not necessarily be the same as what I asked for. I suppose if we were to analyze our prayers and look critically and the requests that we sometimes make, we would realize that the reason why our lives have not turned into catastrophes is because those prayers were not answered at that particular time. I now think that making a prayer for God to choose that which is suitable for us at any moment would not only align us with God’s will, but it would also save us a lot of anguish. For as Mother Teresa rightfully said; “More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones.”

• My Apology

  Posted: June 19, 2008, 12:43 am by Administrator

  When I decided to write the recent article on my past sexual bondage, it was under great and lengthy conviction from my conscience and my greatest motivation was to share my story with a person or people who might be in a similar situation and who will be comforted to know that they are not alone. The most burdening thing about walking around with this kind of a secret is the fact that one believes that it is impossible to talk to anyone about it since he or she feels that no one would understand. As a result, one is reluctant to ask for help. There is also the haunted feeling that somehow the secret will come to light and that the people who matter would know about that which had been so carefully concealed by the darkness. That thought is as terrifying as imagining one being undressed in public.

  Every person carries a secret and no matter how big or how small it is, each one imagines that his burden is the heaviest and would be glad if they could tell it to someone else who will listen just so that it can get lighter. In most cases, such a person will choose a complete stranger – say a shrink – rather than someone who is close to them. To tell the secret to someone who knows us would require a guarantee that the person not only seals their lips for ever but also accept us completely and Love us without any judgment. However, the terror of realizing that we might not be acceptable in the eyes of those who we desire to Love us makes us model ourselves from copies of what we think is acceptable as a human being. And that is how people end up splitting themselves into multiple persons; one for each occasion as need be.

  If we decide to accept ourselves as human beings capable of falling and rising, then it is possible for us to let others see us for who we are. I am saying that as someone who for years, has desired forgiveness from God, from other people, and above all from himself and not being capable of receiving it because of imagining that his mistakes are too great. It is very hard for a person who will not accept forgiveness to forgive and accept others. I am praying that God gives me what it takes to accept others just as I expect them to accept me.

  I am naturally wondering what the people who know me are thinking after reading the article. I realize that there might be someone or people who will feel offended or betrayed not only by those decisions I made in the past, but because these people can directly be associated with me through various liaisons. I know it might even seem inappropriate that I should air my linen in public so shamelessly, but the fact is that truth eventually heals after seeming initially to sicken. And so to all I say that I am truly sorry. I am totally responsible for my behavior and so have no excuse to give for all the things that I did that hurt others.

  Each one of us is made right by the grace of God, the Love of Jesus Christ, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit. May God continue to give all of us what it takes to ask for forgiveness whenever necessary and also to forgive those who have wronged us always, Amen!

• Removing the Obstacle

  Posted: June 18, 2008, 10:04 am by Administrator

  A few years ago, we traveled for a funeral of a relative to the agricultural town of Nyahururu in the Rift Valley. When we left Nairobi, it was bone dry but when we reached Nyahururu, it was pouring with rain and that is how we ended up in the sticky mud. When the bus that was at the head of the convoy got stuck, we all came to a standstill and the only alternative was for us to push it from the quagmire.

  Initially, just a few men were deployed to push the bus, and it seemed like they were not doing any good. After a while, several more joined them and still the bus would not bulge. Soon after the rest of us stepped into the rain to try and help the already soaked men in order to save the day. Still the bus would not bulge and its back wheels skidded in place while throwing mud at our clean clothes as if in protest. But we continued pushing and pushing until we all got exhausted and could push no more.

  It was while we were in this broken state that someone looked under the bus and realized that there was a stone that was lodged firmly in front of one of the front wheels. The stone was frustrating all our efforts to make the bus move forward and it was embarrassing that no one had bothered to look before. After the stone was removed, the bus was able to move almost without being pushed.

  This incident set me thinking about life; how we sometimes struggle so much with pushing when what we really need is to remove the obstacles that prevent us from going forward. Someone said that in every life, we can identify a single thing that if we change will enable us to succeed in ways that we had not imagined before. In Christian circles, I believe that this is referred to as a breakthrough. Take some time and look through your life, identify the single most important obstacle that you need to remove, and you will realize that instead of needing 10 of you in order to push through a day, you might just need yourself.

Blah blah blah

Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

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

The end of the fish cakes