This year for me has been far from good. It has been like one of those evenings where you get home after a long day and as you take a shower, a blackout occurs. There’s soap in your eyes and cold water hitting you on the back and you can’t see shit. You grope on walls and walk cautiously because last time you hit your pinky toe against the corner of the wall. Your phone sadly, is at 11% and its torch is the only source of light you have since you never bothered to buy candles because KPLC hasn’t misbehaved in such a long time. So you sit on your bed, naked and wet (not in a good way), and hope the lights will be back soon because if they don’t you’ll be alone in your darkness.
But thing is with tough days, they give you the best lessons. Here are a few learnt:
Only the greats live on. I lost my grandmother this year. Mom’s mom. Before this, I had been lucky enough not to have lost anyone from my immediate family. So when this came, I was devastated. My mom was worse.
There’s no conventional way to deal with grief. You just soak it in until it starts to hurt a little less. And that’s what I did. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought her. Her wonderful smile and beautiful soul. And her tea. Oh my God, her tea! She made the loveliest tea you’d ever taste.
That’s how she lives on – in my memories and in my heart.
Your mother is your biggest fan. If you’ve been here long enough, you know my mom reads this blog. Sometimes, she comments. Sometimes, she shares on her social media. Other times, when I’ve written something risky, she doesn’t comment or share. She asks me politely to take it down or remove the defaming parts. I oblige because after all, she’s my mother and I love her and I know what she can do with a belt and slippers. Lol.
(Always wanted to use lol here. So urbane)
You won’t remember that idea in the morning. The mind, with all its power, is a scam. Don’t believe too much in its power.
I always get the best writing ideas when I’m in bed just about to fall asleep. That’s when an intro to a story pops into my head. Or an opening scene to a psycho-thriller movie I want to one day write and direct. Or a profound line I want the antagonist to say.
Here’s where the scam is. Your mind will convince you that the bed is too warm and comfy to get your phone from the charger and type the idea down. Instead, it will offer you a better solution for your troubles: Repeat the idea over and over in your head and you’ll remember it in the morning.
(This next one is an unspoken truth. It is spoken of in low hashed tones and whispers)
Looks are paramount for YouTube vlogs. No one will ever tell you this but it’s the truth. A bitter one. Like biting into raw lemon. I’ve watched many vlogs this year. Lots about sex. Relationships. Lifestyle. Beauty. Travel. Reaction videos, etc. And in these pool of different content and different people, one thing stood out. ‘Better’ looking people or the impression of it, had better numbers than ‘average’ looking ones. You don’t believe it? Just go online and do a bit of research. The truth is there is such a thing as ‘pretty girl privilege.’ Google it, it’s a thing.
The world is truly an unfair and harsh place.
Biko should brag more of his height than his forehead. I had the delightful opportunity to attend Bikozulu’s Masterclass. I arrived that early that morning because I’m in the almost extinct group of Kenyans that keep time. And guess who was at the door to receive me? Biko himself, in the flesh and a fancy Polo sweater. Thing is, though, I was looking forward to finally seeing his forehead but when I saw him, it wasn’t what stood out. It was his height. How he towered over me blocking light from my face. How I felt small in his presence because -and any man will tell you this- standing alongside a considerably a taller man than you brushes your ego the wrong way. However, though, he is a chocolate man as he says.
I’m an adult now. In the Masterclass, I thought I’d be the youngest in the group, I was looking forward to it actually. I wanted to be the light to guide the oldies on how the peculiar millennial mind works. But I wasn’t the youngest. And it hurt a little because I took it like a sign from the universe that I’m not young anymore. That I’m now considered an adult. That when they say in ruracios that watoto watachukua chakula wa kwanza, they don’t mean me. And when people pick a soda at the end of the queue, I shouldn’t pick Fanta Orange because Fanta Orange is for watoto. Even more preferably is that I shouldn’t pick a soda but a bottle of 500ml Keringet Pure Water.
Money, in campus, does buys happiness. A uni student doesn’t need much in their life, at least the ones in public uni like me. They only need booze, music and girls to be happy. We don’t need profound things like true happiness or true love. Those will come later. For now, we want to survive a day at a time because campus education is brutal. But to keep up with this party life can be a costly affair. With a bit of money we’d buy happiness. They sell it at Quickmart’s Liquor Section. Check it out next time.
Don’t drink and drive.