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THINGS TO TAKE NOTE WHEN COMING TO MOMBASA THIS DECEMBER

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This article (edited version) was first published on ‘Travel Log Magazine’ an insert of Standard Newspaper on 13/12/19

December is upon us and soon enough, Mombasa will be congested from droves of holidaymakers. It is no secret that we all love Mombasa, because hey! ‘Mombasa raha ama vipi?’ We definitely love our home and love being part of it; the entire thing, the good, the bad and the fun! Now here’s a few pointers for our esteemed guests when they come for holidays:

1. Mombasa is an island, and just like any island, we move in slow, calm waves. We are relaxed people; we know it, and we are totally okay with it. Our pace should not in any way make you think we are in any way lazy or too unbothered or have no worthy place to be at. We on the other hand are not fans of the chaos and wildness of the cities and if you noticed, we are doing very well as we are. No one would want to come to our home if it weren’t for this exact solace and calmness that you sometimes criticize.

2. We know that Mombasa is very hot and even hotter during December season. Please do not worry about our hijabs and buibuis. We have lived here our entire lives and this heat has become part of us, we are okay still wearing black under the scorching sun. You can term us ‘Warriors’ for that, we definitely are!

3. Please understand that Kiswahili, is a very beautiful language and has its deep history originating not just from Mombasa but other parts of the Eastern Coast and even beyond. The Swahili accents differ from place to place and tribe to tribe. Ours is as sweet as our souls and we are proud of our mother tongue. Now, do not in any way think that Kiswahili speakers are in any way less educated, civilized or modern. You’d be surprised how many scholars, educators, established business people we have, who take pride in talking in Kiswahili rather than any other seemingly ‘advanced language’.

4. We are kind people. We value brotherhood and we are always ready to assist anyone. Please note however, that when we decide to show you directions or assist you with water or literally take you on a tour, that that is not a cue for wanting small talk or giving out our phone numbers or wanting any kind of intimacy (unless otherwise clearly stated). We are simply kind people. Please get used to it.

5. Walk anywhere, and I mean ANYWHERE in Mombasa and I can promise you that you’ll find someone doing business there, or marketing or just hustling in whichever way they can. We do have idlers and drug addicts and other vices, just like ANY other town. So please, when you get back home, remember to take the report back home that we are not lazy people as many perceive. Talk of the women you saw very early before dawn, selling those delicious Swahili food. Talk of the many seminars that you saw youth attending. Talk of the protests being done continuously to fight for our rights. Talk of the men going to ‘mjengo’ every morning and returning late at night. Talk of how hard working we really are and be part of breaking the available stereotypes.

6. As Swahili people, we really value our culture and principles. We behave in certain ways, dress in certain ways, talk in certain ways…Of course we can’t hold our visitors as prisoners to our values but please, could you try to at least respect our culture? Could you try to be more sensitive to what you say to the locals, or how you dress when amidst the locals or how you behave when invited in someone’s home? We do understand that people come from very diverse cultures and backgrounds and we function in different ways. But as the common saying goes, ‘When you go to Rome, you do as Romans do.’ This is not a rule but more of a humane expectation. If the Coastal women, for example, refuse to shake hands with the male or drink alcohol or party till late night or anything else we’re not comfortable with, remember to not be prejudicial.  Respect the culture instead.

December is a paradoxical time for the Coastals. We are not huge fans of all the over-crowded beaches and extremely busy roads and places, yet we are happy to receive people and shower them with our warmth and kindness. Not to mention the business opportunities huh! To end this I say, ‘Karibuni sana Mombasa.’

Happy holidays!

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Mental Health

IT IS ALL IN HOW YOU RESPOND

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I came across this video online of a lady cat-walking in a fashion parade when she suddenly trips on her heels and falls on her knees. Instead of the expected embarrassed look, the lady stayed on her knees and made a dramatic pose like she was on a photo-shoot then proceeded to the front of the stage on all fours while the crowd cheered on. She then picked herself and elegantly walked away. Now think for a moment, had this lady ran off to backstage or sheepishly continued cat-walking, wouldn’t the reaction of the crowd be totally different as well?

In any kind of situation, it is how we respond that makes all the difference. You are allowed to feel anger, disappointment, joy, fear or any other emotion. The problem often comes in with WHAT we do with those emotions. When over-joyed, do you go for a super shopping spree and empty your wallet or do you rationally treat yourself with something nice and affordable? When angry, do you break everything in your house or do you opt to go to the gym or go for a walk? When we have faced failure, do we give up on the thing we’ve been working on or do we pick ourselves and soldier on? Most often than not, we do not ponder on the consequences of our reactions.

It becomes a bigger problem when it is conflict involving other people and our responses blow up everything out of proportion. Have you ever thought of how many fights you would have avoided had you just responded differently?

Truth be told, having self-control is one of the biggest challenges for everyone. At the heat of the moment, we are careless with our words, our actions and our body language. We feel under attack and would do ANYTHING to win this battle.

Virginia Satir, a family therapist, identified four defensive communication styles that we will most probably relate to.

1. Placating: In this case, one disregards their own feelings and worth.They say yes to everything and are eager to please everyone involved. One would take the blame for everything and be very apologetic. They also tend to walk on eggshells in their communication with others, and they tend to preface what they are about to say before they say it in the hopes that what they say won’t be misconstrued.  They do this to cover all their bases in order to preempt a misunderstanding that could unintentionally cause someone to be disappointed or angry with them.  To avoid conflict, they give up their authentic voice and opinions just to be safe.

2. Blaming: To protect ourselves, we harass and blame others; sometimes due to our own guilt. Blamers tend to look for and see problems and fault in others, and they tend to boss others around and try to manipulate and control them. Blamers can often be quite narcissistic, and they believe that they are better than everyone else. They do not believe that they are accountable or at cause for any of the problems that they face in their lives. Instead, they see themselves as victims and believe that everyone else is to blame for everything that goes wrong in their lives. They would distort events that have taken place, and their distorted, revisionist memories often serve to protect their fragile egos and preserve their pristine sense of self.

3. Super Reasonable: Also known as computing. This method of communication is whereby one focuses only on the context and superficial communication. They do not allow themselves to fully experience the feelings. Being overly reasonable means functioning with respect to context only, most frequently at the level of data and logic.  They are intent on delivering responses that are dry, cool, and calculated, and they tend to keep their voices even and often make use of abstract language. These individuals are often prone to communicating in a computing style because they’ve often developed a fear regarding expressing their own emotions.

4. Irrelevant: Uses jokes or other distractions to avoid dealing with primary emotions. Those that use this style tend to be clownish or amusing. This is an attempt to distract people’s attention from the issue under discussion. They are known to say or do things that are irrelevant to the language and actions of others; they are not emotionally attuned to others, and they are therefore unable to hold space for others because they’re so disconnected from their own thoughts and feelings. When they speak, they are often prone to being tangential and  jump from one topic to another. 

All the above mentioned styles are unhealthy communication styles because they don’t really deal with the issue at hand in an appropriate manner. One more identified style by Satir is the one called Leveling.

With leveling, it is the healthiest communication style. In this mode, one expresses oneself in an assertive manner so that one’s language and behavior is direct, straightforward, and congruent with one’s honest and authentic self.

People who adopt the leveling approach express themselves in a way where there is harmony between their actions, words, tone of voice, and posture/gestures. They engage in active listening, are comfortable with silence, and are able to properly express themselves.

Levelers seek first to understand, then to be understood.  They also tend to value partnership, and they  look to create win-win scenarios when they’re talking to people. In this mode, one shares feelings rather than trying to conceal them and they try to be empathetic as possible.

It is without a doubt that how we choose to communicate and respond to situations deeply affects the course of our lives. Think about it, how many times have you over-reacted about meaningless things and it is because of your reaction that you ruined important relationships in your life? Or how many times you chose to be heard rather than win an argument and this effectively and positively impacted your relationships?

You should take note that non-verbal expressions like body language and facial expressions still count as communication and how you react, sometimes even without words, does impact the course of what seems like a tragic situation.

So, from the reading, what kind of style do you often use?!

REFERENCES:

https://knowhowpedia.com/5-styles-of-communication-and-the-best-style-to-use-by-virginia-satir/

https://www.theravive.com/research/what%E2%80%99s-your-communication-type%3F

http://wildwolfpg.blogspot.com/2007/07/4-defensive-communication-styles-from.html

5 Distinguishable Styles of Communication

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On another news, have you registered for our writing training yet?! If not, what are you waiting for!!! By the way, you can also sponsor another writer to attend and get yourself some free reward 🙂

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Mental Health

5 WAYS TRAVEL ENHANCES POSITIVE GROWTH

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This article (edited version) was first published on ‘Travel Log Magazine’ an insert of Standard Newspaper on 5th September, 2019.

Have you ever walked on the streets and seen someone selling very random things like belts or pesticides and thought to yourself, ‘How often do people buy such stuff? How much does this person earn at the end of the day? Is it ever enough? Are they living a miserable life? Are they content?’

Therapists will almost always advise their clients to take a walk as often as possible. This is because there is a lot to contemplate about once you step out of your home. There is so much growth to be experienced in going out, travelling, exploring…there is always a lesson to be learnt.

Here are some wonderful ways in which travel leads to inner growth:

1. Travel is the break you desperately need. Everyone needs a time-out from the normal daily pattern. Sometimes we get too engrossed in the routine, we forget how many parts of ourselves die within us or talents that remain unexplored or magic that will never be unleashed. With traveling, you get to interact with nature, breath in fresh air, watch sunrises and sunsets and take a boat ride across the ocean. It is an opportunity to break from all the city noise, the traffic jams, the toxic air, the fast foods; an opportunity for new experiences. Indeed a monotonous life is not worth being called life.

“I travel a lot; I hate having my life disrupted by routine.” – Caskie Stinnett

2. It pushes one out of their comfort zone. Now if you’re used to one particular thing in your locality and it is not available at this particular instance, you are left with no choice but to explore the other options you have. It pushes you to talk to strangers, ask for directions, taste food you wouldn’t otherwise taste and maybe even participate in group activities with people who don’t even speak the same language as you do. At this point, you are not at total liberty or in control to have things your way. You come face to face with change. You’d have to make sacrifices and compromises. You’d have to comply and obey rules of Foreign land. As they say, when you go to Rome, you do what the Romans do.

“Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” – Miriam Beard

3. It humbles you. Honestly it does, especially when you go out of your typical scenarios and locality. You meet people with intriguing stories, people who’ve fought hard and survived, people who struggle to make ends meet, people stuck in very heart breaking situations. You meet children hawking, begging you to buy from their nuts or cookies, you meet very old and frail men and women seated in intense heat, trying to earn from their own sweat; people who create their own happiness with the little they have and who are content despite what they lack.

It also gives one a very different perspective on life and people. It is a great reminder for one to be grateful, to appreciate what they have and to remember that always, there is someone going through worse than you do or what your community does.

“I am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.” – Mary Anne Radmacher

4. Exploration enhances your creativity and story-telling abilities. Being around nature, different culture, different people opens up an entire other world for you. You get to learn new things, do new things and experience new, exhilarating, thrilling adventures. You get to hear other people’s stories, you get new ideas and all the moments bring forth to you many possibilities.

“Travelling — it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.” – Ibn Battuta

5. An opportunity for introspection. One can’t possibly know everything about themselves if they stay all their lives stuck at the same place, same situations and with the same people. You know how they say if you want to truly know someone, you have to travel with them? This is why. You get to see their patience being tested, their immediate reactions, their excitement for trivial things, their mood during exhaustion, which foods they prefer or totally hate…Yet sometimes one doesn’t even know these things about themselves. It is not until they are in the situation itself, does one get to know who they truly are and what they feel deep inside. It makes one reflect and question themselves. This is the best chance for one to introspect and evaluate their emotions and behaviour.

“The best journeys in life are those that answer questions you never thought to ask.” ― Rich Ridgeway

Without travelling, without exploring, one doesn’t really get to experience the world in all its beautiful colours. You just get to see it in the shades of black, white and grey only. You don’t get to have life-changing encounters, or embrace humanity or appreciate the little things in life. You don’t get to taste kindness and witness love and light in human form. You don’t get to be amazed by the creations, by our similarities and great differences and how they make this world a more wonderful place. As the Moorish proverb goes, ‘He who does not travel does not know the value of men.’

Do not let financial constraints cage you in limited space. You don’t necessarily have to fly to a location across the continent for you to spread your wings and explore. Even sitting by the ocean some blocks away from your home or exploring your own locality can be therapeutic enough. We all need a breather, a moment to reflect and introspect.

“To travel is to evolve.” – Pierre Bernardo

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Inspiration

VULNERABILITY IS NOT A DEFECT

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I see you. I see you stare hard into your mirror till your reflection blurs. I see you follow the green veins protruding on your arm till they disappear somewhere just before your elbow. I see the sadness in your eyes. The deep, deep sadness in your eyes.

There’s this saying that goes like, “The Eyes are the window to your soul”. I believe this saying was meant for you. Because your eyes, your eyes have seen what most never have. Your eyes are a world of its own.

I see you wear your heart on your sleeves every morning as you walk out into the perfect storm. You do this every single day. Tirelessly. Repeatedly. And in the evening, you come back with your heart worn off. Filled with scratches, tears and slits from all the beasts you encounter in the wilderness. I see you sit on the cold floor, hugging yourself in between tears, slowly caressing your wounds. You lick them till the redness fades away. And you go to sleep, scared to death, with a heavy heart, really really overwhelmed brain…yet, the next day, I see you do it all over again; wear your tattered heart like it is brand new again. Into the wilderness. Into the storm. With a beautiful smile on your face. To fight like you’ve never done before. To absorb all the emotions you encounter; the pain, the misery, the joy and the love. Oh! the love!

I truly believe that you’re really brave; no exaggerations I promise. I believe that it takes a really huge heart, a very resilient human to be just what you naturally are.

I watch you. I watch you lay down the stones, leading the way to the ocean. I watch you welcome every Jane, Julia and Jessica to view the spectacular scenery. The serene ocean. The beautiful sunset. The standing-tall palm trees. I watch as they step on the stones you just laid down, sinking them into the wet sand. I watch you as everyone leaves. As everyone hurts you.

I see you open up your chest widely apart, at the middle of the road, for everyone to see what’s inside you; daring people to come closer, touch your brokenness. I see you speak your truth, honestly, maybe too honestly, it numbs those around you. I see you hand out love like free Christmas gifts as everyone stares on. I see you cry, heart-wrenching sort of cry, the is-she-crazy sort of cry.

They think you’re like a broken tap; emotions oozing out of you like a river. ‘Aint those a little too much?’ they ask.
‘Shouldn’t you be a little bit stronger?’

I watch you crumble as people stare at you. As people question your sanity. As people call you weak.

“You should hold it back.
Trim down the honesty.
Reveal only a very tiny bit of yourself.
My God! DO NOT LOVE HARD LIKE THAT!!!
You need to build that wall within you.
Who cares about being raw anyway?!
Bring down those emotions a notch.
Why do you allow yourself to care that much?!
How do you expect people not to hurt you when you let them in too deep?”

I watch you as people make you question, ‘what is wrong with me?’

I watch you fight the battle within you. That only you will ever see. I watch you shower happiness into people, like you never needed it. I watch you over-pour yourself into people’s cups. I watch you care. I watch you extend the goodness in you to those around you. I watch you love like there’s no tomorrow. I watch you touch souls. I watch you attend to others’ wounds. I watch you empathize. Change lives. Make it better for everyone. I watch you soldier on, despite all they say and do to you. I watch you adapt and learn. I watch you feel. I watch you open up to the world like a flower, ready to bloom. I watch you take the risk, every single day, to be your true self. To own up to your mistakes. To reach out to others. To be genuine. Authentic. Raw. And brave, very very brave.

I don’t care what they say, I believe vulnerability is not a defect.

I see you.

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Creative Non-Fiction

31 HOURS (PART 2)

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To read part 1, click the following link: http://lubnah.me.ke/31-hours-part-1/

Our view is still the same restaurant we had been at from the previous night 3 a.m.
It is now past 3 p.m. and you could vividly see all our energy had been sucked out of us.

“You know, at some point, during this journey, I thought of Nabii Yunus and the boat he was on,” I say loudly.
“Why,” my sister asks.
“Perhaps there is someone weighing us down and jinxing this entire trip. Who should we be kicking out of the car?”
They all burst out laughing.
“Saeed, I didn’t see you at the masjid for I’sha. Did you really pray?” Farouq jokes.
“I was late for masjid but I actually did pray.”
“Ehh, maanake this is not normal,” I say.
“So we write down our names in small pieces of paper too and choose randomly who is to be kicked out,” someone says. And we laugh again.

Asr prayer soon arrives. We went for prayers then went to eat at another restaurant across the road. Chips soaked in oil nonetheless. We eat reluctantly as we entertain ourselves with nothing and everything. We then see a matatu drive into the previous restaurant we were at. Our help had finally arrived. Finally, we thought.

My brother in law Ali had come with two other men, a driver and a conductor for extra help. We take the car to the mechanic and fix a towing bar ( a metal bar on the back of a vehicle that is used for towing a vehicle) between the two cars and off we set.

My sister and I sat comfortably at the car seat, set our chairs back and closed our eyes. We were barely three minutes away from the mechanic, the towing bar falls off from our car and screeches loudly. We both open our eyes,
“Oh what now?” I say with a sigh.
The mechanic rushes to us and checks our car.
“Reverse the car. We have to fix this again,” he says.

So we reverse back and it takes another moment to fix the towing bar. We set off again and as we cross the road towards Mombasa, guess what? It falls off again. All the men come out of the car and somehow fix it. We set off AGAIN. At this point I am so convinced that this entire trip is jinxed.

For a while we drive at a good speed with no complications. In fact, at some point, Farouq who was now the one driving the matatu, was over taking other cars.
“We are now over-confident huh?” I said to my brother who was in the car with us.
He laughs while I went back to sleep.

Close to dusk, I woke up and started taking videos of the forest and images of the sunset. I even got to see a deer and a giraffe huh! Silver lining 😀 At this point, we believe that we are fine and we will totally make it home with no further complications.

In between my short naps and taking videos, another loud screech woke us up. All men hopped out of the two vehicles, fixed it again and embarked on our journey. It was already dark now and just a few vehicles on the road with us.

As if testing our patience, the towing bar now kept falling off almost after every 10-20 minutes. Whenever this would happen,I would imagine the car losing entire control and perhaps roll off to our devastating end. Despite this happening too many times already, I would still wake up with a hand on my chest, screaming ‘bismillah’ like this might just be it. The last trip of our lives. Mind you, this trip happened just a few days before eidul adh-ha. I never thought we would live to see it.

Past midnight, we stopped at a petrol station with a cool, posh, cute restaurant beside it.
“Is she asleep?” my brother asks about our sister.
“Yeah,” I say as I gaze at her. She’s been asleep for a while now. And I kept wondering how she wasn’t hearing all that commotion in the dead night with no one but us on the road.

I wake her up to ask whether she needed to use the washroom.
“You’ve slept quite a while. Weren’t you hearing the constant commotions?” I ask her.
“I took my pills remember? They make me drowsy and sleepy.”
“Makes sense.”

We walk to the restaurant. The setting was beautiful and the toilets were CLEAN and neat. Do you know how important that is when you have a break down in the wilderness?!!!
“I wish our car had broken down here,” my sister says. Yeah, same sis. Same. We laugh.
We come back from the washroom and find all the men standing between the two vehicles. Two of them were hitting the bumper of our car with a huge rock.

“What’s happening?” we ask as we wear our jackets. It is pretty cold now.
“The bumper is becoming loose. It can no longer handle the pull of the towing bar. We have to remove it entirely and connect the towing bar directly to the metals of the car below the bonnet,” my brother explains.

“Do you know how suspicious we look right now?” I say. Five men and two women, in the middle of the night, damaging what seems like a perfect car. The sound of the rock echoes in the very silent petrol station. No one from there asks anything though. The bumper is finally removed and kept inside the matatu. They attach a rope and the metal bar between the matatu and our bumper-less car and each one of us takes our places in the respective vehicles. We take off.

“We are lucky we took this trip at night you know. If it were during the day it would be way more difficult with other cars on the road and traffic police,” my brother says. Lucky indeed 😀

You’d expect with the bumper being out our trip wouldn’t have any other issue right? You couldn’t be more wrong. The car still kept on freeing itself. And as fast and efficient as possible, the guys would hop out, fix it and we’d move on. They were becoming too good at the job, with no complaints even 😀

At this point it was like we were at a state of delirium. Whenever we’d close our eyes and open them again, we’d see someone else driving our car. The guys were taking turns in driving the two vehicles. My brother Saeed and brother in law Ali are now at the car with us.

“I am sleepy,” Ali says as he drives.
To make our trip more interesting, Saeed starts telling us of another road trip with a friend who left him driving the entire night while he slept.
“The silence just makes it worse. I was literally fighting with the sleep. I couldn’t keep my eyes fully open,” he says as we listen.

At this time, almost all our phones were off. Had we died, it would have taken a while for our families to be contacted. Okay, not the time for bad thoughts.

Saeed starts eating the mabuyu that we had at the beginning our trip. My sister is back to sleep.
“Are these mabuyu nice ama ni njaa niko nayo?” (or am I just hungry)
“You are hungry,” Ali and I laugh.

I close my eyes again for another moment before we had the loudest screech yet. Both my sister and I woke at the sight of our car moving to the extreme left down a slope, the matatu moved towards the right while the towing bar screeched loudly. I screamed something, my sister’s eyes were popping. We all held our breath, our mouths agape, horror written all over our faces as the car moved fast towards the edge of the road. We could now see the ocean below us; imagining us plummeting and dropping like feathers to the ocean below. The car then came to a slow stop. We were at ‘Dongokundu highway’. The streets totally empty and the ocean almost daring us. There was a moment of deep silence as the men alighted once again. If there was any moment we felt terror to the extent of finding it tangible, this was it. Imagine waking up to find yourself almost falling off a highway into the ocean? I don’t think words can ever precisely describe the horror we experienced at this point. Maybe we should turn this into a movie so you can vividly experience the terror alongside the characters. From this point, no one dared to go back to sleep. Even my sister with her sleep-inducing pills. We had lost all the appetite for it.

‘What if our car fell off into the deadly waters?!’ I kept thinking to myself.

We were right at the road when a trailer drove past us at a super high speed, startling the guys away to the side. It was a close brush!

“Why do you keep being scared whenever the bar falls off?” my brother asks me after they were back in the car.
“I keep imagining the car losing control and driving us to our demise.”
“That can’t happen. Despite the engine being dead, we are still controlling the car…unless God wills of course.”
“Oh…” I say with relief. How comforting to know 😀

We finally drive past Changamwe into Mombasa. Wow, that came with an excitement of its own, ‘we are close enough to home!! Alhamdulilah’ Only that home is in Mtwapa and we’d need another hour or so to get there with this constantly falling metal bar.

As we drive past Bamburi cement, we stop again. The men hop out as usual. But this time, we have an audience. The bodaboda guys start speculating us closely. One of them is seemingly drunk and starts threatening the men to report them.
I’m at the back of the car and I don’t get it.’Report us for what?’
The bodaboda guy then signals to his fellow to note down our plate numbers and I think to call the police or something like that.
He is shouting loudly at the guys, throwing insults at a time.
“What is wrong with this guy urgh!’ I say.
“And why are you agitated?” my sister asks.
“Because these guys have been driving the entire night, and he is pushing their buttons. People are exhausted! We don’t need any more problems bana!”
As I had guessed, Ali and Farouq starts answering him back. Not on full blown angry mode but you can see they are REALLY trying to ignore him.

Suddenly we see a police car drive by. We all freeze for a second. But the police just slow down a bit to peep what we were and they went on with their way.

The guys come back to the car. Farouq comes back and joins us as Ali takes up driving the matatu.
“What was the bodaboda guy threatening about?” I ask.
“He was assuming we had caused an accident thus the missing bumper,” Farouq replies.

Saeed drives the car past Borabora and we are thrilled.
“Getting home soon in shaa Allah,” Saeed says.
“Hehe not yet. We are yet to be stopped by the police,” Farouq laughs.
“Don’t jinx it,” we urge him.

We drop the matatu driver and conductor at some point around Shanzu.

We get to Mtwapa bridge and just as we cross, guess what? The police stop us.
Ali explains it to them that before coming with the Matatu to pick us from Mtito, he had talked to their head about it and had approved.
The police became agitated.

“Are you teaching us our job?” They were around four or five of them.
“No but why do you want to hold us back while we got the approval from your boss,” Ali is officially pissed.
“Kuna leo na kesho,”one of the policeman says.

And we all know what that means in Kenya. You could find yourself in a very muddy situation you were never really in.

Saeed and Farouq take Ali aside then talked to the policemen, trying to calm them down. They apologize on his behalf. They say it has been a long journey and bargain with them. They fold a note into one of the hands and finally let us go.

Broken system. How sad.

“That was close,” one of us says.
“Si mimi nlisema,” Farouq laughs. (Didn’t I say we’d be stopped by the police?)
“You’re the one who’s been jinxing us Farouq,” we all say as we laugh at him.
“I am not going to be excited anymore till we are finally INSIDE our home,” I say as we get closer and closer.

“You’ve had a lifetime adventure you will never forget,” Farouq says, “Mwanzo, have you guys ever been on such an adventure?”

“Of course not 😀 We can rejoice about the adventure AFTER it is over,” I say.

We can now see our home at the vicinity and I still say, “I am NOT going to be happy till I am inside. No less. No more.” This is the kind of trip you think, ‘Oh I am finally home. Nothing bad can happen now. I am safe.’ Only for robbers to appear in front of you with pangas. Okay maybe that is too movie-ish but can you blame me at this point for thinking of the worst?

I see my dad waiting for us at the door. I quickly alight and head towards the door. Guess what happened?!

Nothing. Relax. 😀 I just hugged him. Never felt happier to be home. Alhamdulilah.

I rush into my room and my younger sister is startled from her sleep.
“Oh you’re back?!”

“I am baaackkk!! Alhamdulilah!! You won’t believe what happened oh my God. Very long story. Will tell you tomorrow in shaa Allah.”

It is past 3 a.m., closer to 4 a.m. I rush to the washroom, clean up and repay my missed prayers. I am thrilled to be home. So excited. All the while during that terrible journey yet thrilling adventure, I couldn’t stop thinking, ‘Wait till this over! I can’t wait to write about it!’ To date, I believe I was meant to experience that adventure because I love adventures despite them wrecking my nervous system 😀 At least I can boast that I survived the thrill without having a mental breakdown 😀

Next morning everyone at home is asking for details of the trip. What exactly happened.

“Just wait till I write about it!!”

They’ve been waiting for too long! 😀

***
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Creative Non-Fiction

31 HOURS (PART 1)

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Submission for the https://timbu.com/ creative writing contest

Having anxiety and being adventurous at the same time, is an extreme sport. It is like your DNA is on a constant battle on which personality should possess over your body. A forever tag of war. But whenever things go unexpectedly, anxiety ALWAYS wins.

So here we are, at 2 a.m. at the middle of nowhere, bushes everywhere and smoke emerging from our car. There is a deep moment of silence.

‘Hapa ni kubaya,’ (this is a bad area) Farouq says, holding the door handle hesitantly.

‘Ehh lazma tukae chonjo,’ Mullah says, looking at the other two men at the front seats; my brother Saeed and his friend Farouq. Seconds tick away as the men still contemplate what step to take.

‘What is happening?’ I ask from the back seat.

It is obvious. The car has broken down. Heavy smoke is still rising from the front bonnet of the car. My mind is already imagining a group of shaggy looking men with blood-shot eyes emerging from the bushes with pangas and rungus. ‘Ni kubaya’ keeps ringing in my head. Is this how we die? Be attacked by some idle, ruthless, heartless humanbeings and be slashed to be unrecognizable pieces of meat?

‘I can check the smoke while the two of you look out for the animals,’ Farouq says.

‘We have a panga here,’ my brother Saeed says.

‘Wait, what animals?’ I ask.

‘We have lions here…and all types of wild animals roaming around the forest,’ Mullah says.

Wait what?! So now we won’t be victims of a ruthless, idol gang but of wild animals who would carry our helpless bodies to the bushes for a feast.

My elder sister is calmly seated next to me, focused on what the men are discussing.

‘This panga is small,’ Mullah says, ‘and rusted.’

‘Why do you drive around with a panga under your seat anyway?’ I ask my brother.

‘For emergencies. Like these.’

Seems wild. I wouldn’t be able to carry a panga with me around without thinking that it is exactly what will be used to slash my head when I run into bad people. You can’t blame me for thinking like that anyway. Have you watched the news lately?

‘We need water,’ someone says. We pass the only gallon of water left with us.

The three men step out of the car. Mullah is hanging on the doorway with his phone torch looking towards the forest. All doors have been left open, you know, in case an animal emerges out of nowhere and they have to jump back in. But what if the animals decide they are the ones to jump in huh?!

Farouq is pouring the water into the car while dubbing it with a piece of cloth. My brother Saeed is in between watching the other side of the forest and helping Farouq. All the water is eventually used up. They all rush back into the car, close the door, shut the windows and put off all the lights.

‘We just have to wait for the car to relax,’ Farouq says, as we all burst out laughing. ‘It is true. We just have to give it time to relax then we will be good to go.’

‘By the way do you know that a lion won’t attack you if you don’t provoke it?’

‘Who said?’ Someone asks.

‘I know so. Hyenas are the worst. And I hear they are common here.’

‘This is a bad area to stop,’ Farouq repeats.

I am surprised how everyone is staying calm. We are about 10-15 kilometres away from Mtito Andei. All cars passing by are moving at a super speed. The engine won’t start. The smoke in our car won’t stop. My sister is chatting away something while laughing. My mind is distracted. I can point out a hundred things that can go wrong right now.

‘Lubnah,’ my brother calls out my name, ‘you wanted a road trip huh? Here it is. The real road trip,’ he says while laughing.

I laugh nervously. I had just completed my final semester exams the evening before and upon reaching home, my brother suggested I accompany them for their road trip to Nairobi. What better way to treat yourself after a hard paper?! I had been too excited; rushed through the entire packing process because I could not risk being told last minute that they changed their mind or there is no longer space for me. I didn’t want to waste a minute in the house anymore. Road trip huh?!

It is almost half an hour later and there doesn’t seem to be any progress. The men step out once again and this time, Farouq tries to stop the lorries with his flashlight. One lorry seems about to stop but decides it is not wise to stop by a forest at past 2 a.m. Another lorry stops but the driver doesn’t have a rope to pull us to Mtito. Mullah is holding a panga like he is ready for a fist fight with anything coming his way. He is skinny and kinda short. Would he really manage? I admire his confidence though. If he dies, at least he dies a hero.

The three men rush back into the car. A moment of silence. My sister and I are saying all sorts of prayers now from a book we had with us. But my mind is too distracted I tell my sister I will recite whatever I know off head. You should know, anxious people have some six common ways to deal (more like reacting) with situations, ‘panic, cry uncontrollably, over-eat, not eat entirely, over-sleep or have insomnia.’ I can’t panic. I see it in movies all the time. Anxious people tend to make a situation worse 100% by panicking. I can’t panic. I shouldn’t panic. Because now we are stuck just beside a forest with wild animals roaming freely, waiting for free meat. I can’t be the free meat that calls for the animals’ attention. I try to breathe in deeply. And next, I decide to stress-eat the mabuyu we had carried.

People are telling dark jokes now. Coping mechanism I believe. When there is nothing to do, you can try to make it funny. At least if we are dying, we die laughing right? My sister and brother tease my quite silent and tense self. They know what is going on in my head.

It is already 3 a.m. Mullah decides to light a fire just beside the road to scare away the animals and hopefully, make some driver stop and help us. Farouq goes back to waving his flashlight towards the passing cars.

‘This fire is risky. There is so much wind and this is a big forest. It could start a huge fire that we can’t control,’ my brother Saeed says.

‘No it will be fine. This is what will keep the animals away. They can’t come near the fire,’ Said says.

We stay like that for a while and the fire seems to get bigger. My brother decides to push the car behind because it is a petrol car and we don’t really need another tragedy right now.

The fire is making me nervous. What if it decides to spread its wings and conquer the land of the wild? Mullah is guarding it closely but I can’t help but imagine it really spreading, our car catching fire and exploding, turning each one of us into fresh kebabs for breakfast for the animals. The imagination is vivid. I can imagine the headlines in the morning, ‘A huge fire burnt down a big part of the forest and has killed five people beyond recognition.’

I shake my head in an attempt to throw out the thoughts. I can’t tell them to anyone else because anxious people tend to make situations worse remember? Everyone else is trying to stay calm and still making dry, dark jokes. I should adjust like everyone else.

‘Tell him to put it off,’ I suggest. Saeed had already suggested that previously but Mullah was insistent on keeping it burning.

A lorry finally stops several steps ahead of us. All three men rush to it. And finally, they come with a rope. Our hope has now been reignited. Mullah puts out the fire with his feet. Don’t ask me how. He just did it.

We watch keenly as we start being pulled towards Mtito. We say our grace to God. (The driver later tells us that he saw a rhino nearby when he was pulling over to help us. He almost didn’t stop. True Story)

We get to Mtito minutes to 5 a.m. We have our very early breakfast, perform our prayers and get back to our packed car and sleep. Short, restless naps. We can hear people moving in and out of the restaurant. We had two options; either leave one of us with the car while the rest take up another car/bus to Nairobi or wait for another car from Mombasa to take us back home. We weigh our options. We have to go back home.

Saeed and Farouq escort Mullah to the roadside and get him a ride to Nairobi. The four of us are now left. When you have several free hours at hand, is when you take notice of every minute passing by. We chit-chat a bit, eat, eat more, sleep again, laugh at whatsapp videos and memes, eat again. I am busy eating half the time. The overwhelm has to be taken care of somehow. So food it is. I pretend to be a youtuber for a minute and take images of the very aesthetic blue and grey clouds. I am searching for the silver lining I say.

It is only 4 p.m. when help finally arrives from Mombasa. We are extremely tired, sweaty, smelly and sleepy. We get a mechanic nearby who fixes a metal between the two cars so we are pulled back home. You think that is the end of the journey? You are mistaken. The journey has just begun…

To read part 2 click on the following link: http://lubnah.me.ke/31-hours-part-2/

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Creative Non-Fiction

PIECES OF MY HEART (PART 2)

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Image Courtesy: Ahmed Elmawi

Continuing swiftly from where we left off last time: http://lubnah.me.ke/pieces-of-my-heart-part-1/

6. PURPLE HIBISCUS BY CHIMAMANDA ADICHIE

A beautiful, moving and intriguing story of a teenage girl Kambili and her older brother Jaja who come from a rather privileged and respected family. Their father is very generous and admired in the community. However, he was also fanatically religious and tyrannical with his family. Despite the perfect outward image this cute family portrays, there is a lot of tension within the house, built on deep fear of ever crossing their father’s limits and set rules. A military coup becomes the reason these young siblings get to experience freedom and deep joy when they move to their aunt’s house, outside the city. But when they come back home, the tension heightens. The two young siblings with their mother silently endure the unendurable until they no longer can and someone goes to jail…

It is an emotional roller coaster built upon the family bonds. You will definitely love this one because it is very relatable. High chances you will relate to Kambili and Jaja or you know someone who lives what they’ve lived through. I am very fond of this book I think mainly because it is family based and really moves one to the core.

7. BORN A CRIME BY TREVOR NOAH

Trevor Noah is one of my favourite comedians without a say but that aside, this book is magnificent by its own glory. In his book, Trevor talks about being ‘born a crime’; having parents who are black and Swiss, something that was totally forbidden during the apartheid period in South Africa. He struggles in a huge way to fit in anywhere and he ends up being the boy who could survive everywhere. He learns five languages and how to adapt to the rather racist system.

His mother is a very firm, independent woman who plays a huge role in raising Trevor into being a smart, witty young man. The best part for me is how they develop a tradition where she’d write him letters on his chores and his duties in the house and Trevor would write back to her 😀 And she would write hilarious statements (in their context) like ‘Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child; the rod of discipline will remove it far from him’ which is an excerpt from the bible just to threaten him. His mother is literal goals! Then there’s his beloved dog Fufi who disappears for a while before learning that he actually has another owner. This also became one of my favourite pieces in the book with the moral of the story being that ‘You don’t own what you love.’

This book is not only hilarious but there are many instances where we get to learn from the experiences that Trevor lived. The most tragic one being his mother being shot by his own step father. Intense! I know! However, it is always lovely to know the back story of our favourite people in real life. We get to understand where they are coming from and why they are who they are!

8. THE ALCHEMIST BY PAULO COELHO

You definitely, DEFINITELY saw this coming didnt you?! Paulo Coelho is one of the best authors of our times and his books never disappoint but to date, in my opinion, this is his best work yet!!

The story revolves around an Andalusian shepherd boy named Santiago who travels from his homeland in Spain to a desert in Egypt in search of treasure supposedly buried at the pyramids. This young man is both ambitious and thoughtful. Filled with hope, he follows his dreams and explores the land. He meets many different people along his journey to his quest and learns a lot of lessons. At some point he reaches a dead end with his search and he is robbed too. The different experiences push him to take control of his own life and seek out the spiritual world. He gets to the alchemist; who claims he can turn metal to gold and also meet Fatima who affirms to him the reality of fate and the spiritual forces that align with our dreams, goals, choices and beliefs.

The book is magical in its own way and very intriguing. It makes us readers reflect on our inner world and how our core beliefs inevitably affect our lives. This book is almost always amongst everyone’s favourite books.

9. THE PARTNER BY JOHN GRISHAM

John Grisham is a master of thrillers and mysteries. This is one of the books that at the end, you throw it to the wall and stare for many moments at nothing; dismayed, shocked!

Patrick Lanigan,the main character of our story is a lawyer who decided to steal 90 million dollars from his law firm then proceeded to fake his own death in a seemingly brutal car accident. Patrick manages to run to Brazil where he changes his entire appearance and changed his name to Danilo Silva. He starts everything afresh so as to not get caught by the FBI who were looking for him. However, four years down the line he is arrested by the FBI agents at a small town called Ponta Porã.

During the years of his escape, he had a partner by the name of Eva Miranda alias Leah Pires. He entrusts her with EVERYTHING. From covering his tracks to hiding the money, to withdrawals and deposits to disappearing from the world’s existence. She was the perfect partner…until she wasn’t…

I’ll leave it at that so y’all can read it on your own. Nonetheless, it was really captivating and intriguing 😀

10. LAND OF THE LIVING BY NICCI FRENCH

I came across this book by mere chance at second hand book stalls and I was hesitant because I had never read the author. But then I went ahead and took it with me (see? sometimes you gotta give unknown authors to you or new ones a chance) When I started reading, I COULD NOT PUT IT DOWN. The books puts you at the edge and the suspense is intense!!

The story is about a young lady who finds herself in a dark, unknown location and quite disoriented. Abbie Devereaux can’t remember her recent past or how she got here with a strange man who keeps promising her death. Abbie stays for long hours alone, imagining the sun and butterflies while still having nightmares;

being hopeful that someday she will make it to her world again. However, a twist of events happen when Abbie finally gets to escape and resume her normal life…but guess what? People don’t believe her story. Her doctors think it is a fantasy merely made up by Abbie. It is then that Abbie realizes that her before life had been destroyed too. She is terrified whether her kidnapper would find her again. Would she ever remember what exactly happened to her? Abbie therefore desperately tries to reconstruct her life, taking step by step into the past to find out what exactly took place and also prove what everyone didn’t believe…Exciting, thrilling, terrifying!!! If you love thrillers, you should consider this.

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Now something I learnt, people have different tastes in books just like everything else. Been checking reviews od the different books I have mentioned so far and I was shocked to find some of my favourites were somebody’s ‘total waste of time’. Sooo…I am not promising anything but I believe my taste is above average good 🙂 Enjoy!!


Other great books (in my opinion):

-Reclaim your heart by Yasmin Mogahed
-Enjoy your life by Mohammad Al-Arefe
-I know why the caged bird sings by Maya Angelou
-When Breath becomes air by Paul Kalanishi
-I too had a love story by Ravinder Singh
-A walk to remember by Nicholas Sparks
-Nothing lasts forever by Sidney sheldon
-Tell me your dreams by Sidney Sheldon
-The Street Lawyer by John Grisham
-The Poet by Michael Connelly
-The Spy by Paulo Coelho

Local authors (with their instagram handles to get yourself some copies ?)

-The Striving Soul by meeeee (Contact me at 0704 731 560 to get yours now!!)
-Point of deflection by Dr Mohammad Bahaidar (and 3 other books) @dr.bahaidar
-The billionaire sahaba by Suleiman Ndoro @_draudi
-A Painted Inspiration from the Palm-Fringed Beaches: A Collection of Inspirational Quotes by Salma Abdulatif @expressing_through_salummy
-Building a Million dollar business by Aminah Suleiman @wa_kwale_
-Drunk by Jackson Biko @bikozulu
-Too pretty to be broke by Joan @joanthatiah

Among many many other great books!! Pardon me if I forgot to mention your favourite ?

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PIECES OF MY HEART (PART 1)

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Image Courtesy: https://www.bookurve.com

I am not an avid reader. There, I said it! In broad daylight! (Or rather, in dark nightlight 😀 ) Do nerds do honor killing as well? Coz I could be the next victim of a ‘ruthless word-murder case on twitter.’ It is always on twitter, right? However, I am a big believer of quality over quantity (See my excuse 😀 ) I love taking time with books so that I can really absorb and ponder what’s in it. Also, overthink about everything in it, the sequel if there was any, feel the pain of the characters excessively to a fault and take time to heal too lol. The only books I don’t keep down are the thriller/crime/mystery books (which are my favourites by the way) because I totally love how they keep me on the edge. Sometimes though, we have the reallllyyy moving books that are just too profound to keep down, those too. Otherwise, I’m not rushing anywhere. Quality reading y’all! (P.S I really respect avid readers. I admire their deep commitment).

Good Lord. We have some really A.M.A.Z.I.N.G books out there and picking the best ones is really a task. Nonetheless, here are my top books that I’ve read so far:

Please note that there may be a feeew spoilers here!

1. THE KITE RUNNER BY KHALED HOSSEINI

I LOVE THIS BOOK. I LOVE KHALED HOSSEINI. And to date there is no single book I have ever read that made me feel what I feel about the Kite Runner or even Khaled Hosseini’s works. He is the absolute best writer ever. Don’t argue with me!

The Kite Runner is a coming-of-age story revolving around Amir (who longs deeply for his father’s affection), his best friend Hassan, Hassan’s father Ali (who is the servant of Amir’s family) and the very tragic war in Afghanistan. Amir and Hassan share an extra-ordinary bond of friendship and love but the unthinkable happens when Amir betrays his childhood best friend at a very critical moment (no spoilers!) They eventually separate when Amir immigrates with his father to US. The story has a huge plot twist, a very sad one,towards the end of the story concerning the two boys.

This book is very sweet, and heart-breaking, and sad, and heart-warming and very moving at the same time. An emotional roller coaster. And perhaps I love it deeply because the story-line concentrates a lot on friendship, something I really value. It has a special place in my heart and I never lend this book to anyone unless I REALLY trust you because ‘I AM GIVING YOU A PIECE OF MY HEART’ 😀 It is one of those books you finish reading and you HATE that you are done with it, yet you are crying and you hate that it made you cry but you still text your friend and say, ‘You MUST read this book. 11/10 recommend!’

Honestly, Khaled Hosseini is my writing guru. Ultimately, I hope that one day I can write and move mountains within people like he does with his stories (and in real life too!! He does a lot of projects helping refugees!!)

2. A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS BY KHALED HOSSEINI

YES!! HIM AGAIN!! And when you read the book you will understand why.

This book will STING you to the core. The story revolves around two women; Mariam and Laila.

Mariam is the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy businessman which makes her and her mother, Nana as outcasts. Mariam loves her father dearly and yearns to live with him at all times. However, this desire leads to her mother’s death and eventually her forced marriage. On the other galaxy, is Laila, a young girl loses both her parents due to a stray rocket during the soviet union invasion in Afghanistan. Laila loses her best friend too, Tariq whose family decides to move to Pakistan.

An unexpected twist happens when Mariam’s husband decides to marry the young Laila as his second wife since Mariam had failed to conceive. The two women don’t get along at first but they eventually realize they are both on the same side.

The story is about their huge struggles as women, instances where society fails them in a terrible way and how fate brings them together to become co-wives. The story has themes on fate, war, marriage, domestic violence, machoism, the plight of the girl child, culture, family and mostly love; the struggles that Laila and Tariq experience (don’t ask me if they meet again. READ THE BOOK!!), in pursuit of their happy ending. This book will make you CRY (or maybe I just cry a lot lol) but either way you will have that kiazi on your throat in several instances in the book. It is a master-piece. A tragic one but a really beautiful one nonetheless.

You can thank me later!!

3. A TEMPORARY GIFT BY ASMAA HUSSEIN

Amr Kassem a 26 year old man, was murdered in 2013 while going home after a peaceful protest in Alexandria, Egypt.  Him and the many other people were rallying against the mass injustices under the command of AbdelFattah al-Sisi. He left behind his very heart-broken widow, Asmaa and their daughter Ruqaya. The book consists of journal entries of his widow, Asmaa, two years after his death. The book is sweet, heart-warming (concerning the two as a couple), spiritual but mostly heart-breaking. The intensity of it is on another level. I however love how despite the deep darkness, Asmaa was always seeking God and light. She would find the courage to trust that God’s plan is the best.  It is definitely a spiritually uplifting book that will be a game-changer for so many people.

The book talks on love, marriage, fate, death, deep grief, faith, and outstanding patience.

By the way, this is a true story, not fiction. You can check out her page on Instagram @ruqayas.bookshelf or her website: ruqayasbookshelf.com in which this book is sold as well. Help a widow by buying her book y’all 🙂

4. THE BOOK THIEF BY  MARKUS ZUSAK

First, this book is very unique because DEATH is the narrator in the book (Imagine hearing Death’s point of view of people and life!) He tells the story of Liesel, a young girl who has a traumatic experience of losing her younger brother during their journey to the Hans family (which adopts her) and thereafter losing her mother who leaves never to return. Liesel steals several books in the story, thus becoming ‘the book thief’ and it is this deep love of books that eventually saved her from death.

The family that adopted her was of Hans Hubermann and Rosa, who she doesn’t like much at first. The story happens during the world war II in Germany and despite them not being Jewish, they do not agree with the Nazi regime. They then hide a Jewish boy, Max, in their basement to protect him, who thereafter becomes very fond of young Liesel.

Liesel also forms a special friendship with Rudy Steiner, who impacts her life in a huge way. Their bond is highlighted in a large part of the book which makes it very intriguing.

The story takes a slow move at first and takes a while before it catches up speed (It is a big book). I almost underestimated it because I am not a big fan of slow moving stories, however, I am very glad to have given Markus a chance and read his work to the end.

I believe this is one of the most powerful books ever written. Liesel will steal your heart with her innocence, her pain, her love for books and her sweet nature. The story revolves around war, love, kindness, books, friendship and cruelty.

5. TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE BY MITCH ALBOM

This is a memoir of a student, Mitch and his ailing professor, Morrie who is diagnosed with ALS (a disease that causes the death of neurons controlling voluntary muscles). Upon knowledge of his professor’s ailment, 16 years after his graduation, he visits him and spends valuable time with him. For the next fourteen weeks, Mitch visits Morrie every Tuesday and they discuss issues like death, self-pity, family, marriage, aging, and a wide variety of other topics. We get to experience death alongside Morrie whose health deteriorates over the weeks but in the meanwhile, learn very valuable lessons that Mitch learns from him.

I say this is a book of wisdom, especially considering this is a true story. The bond between teacher and student is very beautiful and from the two, you learn truths about life and you are challenged too. This is the kind of book you sit with a pencil or a highlighter because it is a journey worth noting down.

There are many many books I want to talk about and deserve to be talked about but I chose this because I learn a lot from the above mentioned. I also now realize all these are rather ‘sad’ stories, but good news is, it is TOTALLY worth the tears. Enjoy!!

P.S. Part 2 will be more exciting stories I promise! In shaa Allah.

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Coast & Culture

THIS IS THE DAY OF EID

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Photo Courtesy: Majdermind

Buzz! Buzz! You check your phone for the fiftieth time. You scroll lazily through the messages; Eid Mubarak, Eid Saeed! Each one more similar than the previous. You create a quick broadcast of all close friends, family and colleagues and forward the last message you just received. Okay done, one less thing to worry about. It is almost midnight but the house couldn’t be livelier. The smell of fresh paint, oud and freshly baked cookies choke your throat. Your elder brother is changing the curtains, your mother is still whining about the slightly burnt cake and your teenage brother has made himself the designated taster, picking the well laid snacks one plate after another. The kitchen is a big mess. The sitting room however, is spick and span. If your nosey neighbours were to come as early as 6 a.m. you’d be proud of your little home. We can worry about the kitchen in the morning, everyone suggests. Yet everyone knows that the morning would be more hectic than the last ten days combined.

You try to sleep but your anxious mind wouldn’t let you close your eyes. Did I return the remaining milk in the fridge? Ah, I forgot to send an Eid message to aunty. I should do that first thing in the morning. Now what will we do about the burnt cake? Your eyes finally shut but your mind is still racing with thoughts. Your back is aching from bending over at the traditional ‘mbuzi’, grating several coconuts to prepare mkate wa sinia. You remember your pretty, flowery dress and smile, satisfied. It doesn’t even last you a minute, your mother knocks at your door. ‘Minal aidin!’ she wakes you up. You have barely slept and you have too many reasons to whine about. But it is Eid isn’t it? It is a big day and plus, there’s no time to ask for more time to sleep. So you jump out of bed and kiss your mother, ‘Minal faizeen’.

The entire family is awake for the dawn prayer. Your father and brothers go to the mosque while you, your mother and sisters pray at home. Everyone thereafter disperses to a corner; your brother is ironing his kanzu for the Eid prayer about to happen in almost two hours. Your younger sister is laying out her entire attire from head to toe, ready for a shower while your younger brother is still ‘tasting’. Your father is watching the Eid celebrations in Makkah while your mother is setting up the table. You are in between cleaning the kitchen, checking social media, sharing Eid messages and taking bites here and there.

The table is a beautiful sight. All kind of food is laid out from your slightly burnt cake, to cookies, to donuts, to samosas, to home-made chocolate, to mkate wa sinia to meat pies. Coffee and dates wouldn’t miss either. No one has the time to sit and eat yet so everyone is picking a bite in between doing other things. The phones keep ringing; aunties, friends, cousins, all calling to wish your family Eid Mubarak. The kitchen is finally clean and one by one, each dresses up for the special occasion.

Oud fragrance fills the air and soon enough, we’re all taking photos. The entire family heads to the open-ground where the Eid prayer would be performed. There’s a lot of laughter, hugs, kisses and merry everywhere. Little children are running around in cute dresses and kanzus, greeting almost every elder they meet. It is a reunion; old friends, relatives, all neighbours are there. A beautiful moment. A memorable time. The takbiras can be heard all over the area, people chanting and chorusing, ‘Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar, La ilaha illa Llahu. Wa Llahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar wa lillahi Lhamd…’ (Allah is the greatest, Allah is the greatest, there is no god but Allah. And Allah is the greatest, Allah is the greatest and to Allah belongs all praise.)

The prayers are done and a multitude of people walk home together; many white and coloured kanzus and bright buibuis. There’s a heavy traffic jam, cars hooting and lots of smiles on the road.
Back home, your mother sets aside plates with food for the neighbours and your younger brother is tasked to make the deliveries. You’re not sure if the food will arrive safely without him ‘tasting’ some more but you’ve given him enough warning to scare his ever-hungry stomach. You can’t wait for the plates to be brought back from the neighbours’ because they never come back empty. You’re eyeing for the very sweet ‘mkate wa mayai’ and kebabs that mama Zeinab makes.

You now all sit down to officially feast and taste the fruits of your labour, literally! Children soon come knocking on the door asking for ‘Eidi mbarak’ and your mother has all these coins and sweets prepared for them. After the heavy, palatable breakfast, you now have the energy to go visit your relatives one after another.
You decide with your siblings on the map to follow, from house to house. Everywhere you go, you are fed once more and the juices are enough to last you the entire week. Your baby sister is given ‘eidi’ with your aunties and uncles and you see her boasting to other cousins the amount she has received yet. It makes you nostalgic. Gone were the days when you’d be the one receiving the money. Ironically, aren’t you the one needing the money more than your baby sister?! You sigh. Before you drown in your financial crisis thoughts, your mother pulls your baby sister aside and whispers, ‘let me keep the money safely for you. If you need anything you’ll tell me.’ You laugh. You know the trick but your naïve sister hasn’t learnt yet. So she gives out the money not knowing she’ll never see it again. You can’t wait to do that to your own kids someday…just for the culture!

Lunch hour, the extended family gathers at the eldest uncle’s house for his famous biryani. The house is full, the stomachs are fuller and the hearts are fullest. The elders sit together at the sitting room conversing endlessly and laughing loudly. The children are running around. The young adults are confused as usual, trying to be everywhere with everyone.

The afternoon sets in and Eid is never complete without the gwaride. Drums and trumpets blowing loudly within the Old town. The team moves from one household to another in their red, blue and black uniforms and ugly masks. Children and adults altogether following the troupe as the kids jump up and down, singing and chorusing along, ‘twataka leo leo!’ When they’ve had enough of the singing and the troupe has gone further way from home, the children come back.

Your baby sister comes and whispers in your mother’s ears while the other children wait at the door anxiously. They want to go ‘bembeani’ at the famous Makadara grounds. As usual, you and your other cousin who’s your age mate are the allocated baby sitters. You are given some money to spend on your baby sister’s games, play and food. Off you set with your group of naughty kids, babysitting them at home is hectic enough let alone in a public, crowded space. However, you and your age mate have plans to have fun too because who said swings have an age limit?! You just have cross your fingers that you don’t lose any of your ‘ducklings’!

Eid Mubaraaaak!

***

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Creative Non-Fiction

GUESTS: A BLESSING OR A BURDEN?

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This article (edited version) was first published on ‘Travel Log Magazine’ an insert of Standard Newspaper on 1/8/2019

There is this Albanian proverb that says, ‘Every guest hates the others, and the host hates them all.’ As arguable as this can be, we can all agree that there are certain kinds of guests we detest to the core. However, there are those we long to meet again.

During the last edition, we looked at different kinds of hosts, and now we get to have a look at the opposite side. What kind of visitor are you or what kind have you received?

1. The Entertainer

They come with all the merry the house needs. They will tell endless stories, crack jokes, play with the kids…the house couldn’t be livelier. Once the visitor leaves, you can feel their absence due to their charm and happy spirit. You can’t wait to host them again.

“If it were not for guests all houses would be graves.” -Kahlil Gibran

2. The Worrier

They are constantly worried about all their moves. ‘Is it okay to use their toothpaste or should I have bought my own?’ ‘Am I too loud on the phone?’ ‘Is it appropriate to go to sleep before they do?’ ‘They are whispering…Are they talking about me?!’ The visitor is walking on eggshells and can’t do a single thing in the house without over-thinking the consequences of their actions.

3. The Over-stayer

Prince Philip once said, “ The art of being a good guest is to know when to leave.”
Dude doesn’t know the meaning of ‘time-to-go’. They initially came for a three day visit and ended up staying for three months and counting. They are unapologetic about their over-stay and act totally unbothered whether the host is happy about it or not.

“The first day a guest, the second day a guest, the third day a calamity.” –Indian proverb

4. Lazy-bone

However long their stay is, they still act as a visitor. They wake up very late, leave their plate on the table, never offer help not even a fake, pretentious one. They don’t help AT ALL. You could be drowning with chores and errands to do but they’d still go about with their own business; unbothered. You are alone mate.

5. The Foodie

They eat anything they come across in the house so long as it is edible. You dared leave your pizza in the fridge overnight? It became their midnight snack. You bought biscuits for your children? They needed something to munch. You set aside some ugali for your brother? Your visitor wasn’t satisfied with the initial lunch you offered. The moment you see them, you just put away all the food you have, including the sweet your kid is eating.

“A daily guest is a great thief in the kitchen.” -Dutch Proverbs

6. The messy one

They expect you as the host to do all the cleaning. That includes making their bed after they wake up, clearing their messy room, washing their dirty clothes that they intentionally left mixed up with yours. In short, you are there literally at their service.

7. The nosy gossip

They have a keen eye to details. They know which part of the house needs some cleaning, how your child is a total failure at school and when last your husband came home. You won’t even know how much they know until after their departure and your other gossiping aunty at the village, miles away, will inform you of what they heard. Funny enough, despite all they’ll say about you, they won’t be ashamed to come over at your place again. They act totally innocent and oblivious of their actions and even bring you some other gossip when they come around.

“A guest sees more in an hour than the host in a year.” -Polish Proverbs

8. The Chef

They love cooking and are too good at it. They always offer to make themselves helpful at the kitchen and everyone can’t wait to eat their meals. They will prepare full course meals from starters to dessert and you couldn’t be a happier host. In fact, you want to suggest they move in with you. These are the kind of blessings you need to keep, aye?!

9. The over-compensator

They feel highly indebted for all the host is doing for them so they try all they can to ‘return the favour’. They will wash the dishes, pick your child from school, and buy gifts for your family every time they leave the house. They will do chores even when it is uncalled for. This is their way to say thank you only it is more of THANK YOU in bold, capital letters, underlined being screamed at the top of their voices.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, ‘The ornaments of a house are the friends who frequent it.’

10. Non-commenters

As a host, you could go out of the way to please them and make their stay as comfortable as possible, but your honourable guest will always be expressionless about everything. They leave you guessing all the time because you never know when they like something or not, what they prefer and what not. They don’t give comments, suggestions or criticisms even when you ask them. It may be hard to make them happy because you don’t really know how to…

11. The Demanding one

They don’t really care how your ‘pocket situation’ is or whether it is beyond your means, but they’d always make demands. They’d ask for special meals, special tours or even want some of the objects/materials in the house for themselves. They will, without shame, ask for these favours and sometimes make the host feel guilty for not meeting their needs, or rather, their high demands.

“The guest who seeks special attention muddies the host’s tea.” –Japanese proverb

Truly, guests make our home more beautiful, livelier and lovelier. We just have to ensure to know our boundaries and be more sensitive when staying at other people’s homes.

“The house that receives no guests, never receives angels.” -Turkish Proverb

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