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Creative Non-Fiction


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Creative Non-Fiction

SUCH IS LIFE

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Photo Courtesy: Dennis Onsarigo

The thought of death creeps me and the sight of death is what makes me have a sheer cold, goosebumps and shudder in my place. It takes me right to the scene; to the broken pieces of metal and glass on the floor, each tiny piece carrying a memory of the last laughter, the last talk, the last joke. It takes me right to the father’s seat, the husband who maybe had so many plans for his family, to the mother’s seat; the wife who took her last breath hearing the voices of agony at the back seat. It takes me right where the daughters were seated, as they get smashed into one end. I can almost feel the cracking sound of bones, the screams, the painful silence and the blood; blood everywhere. I am almost re-living the story; the tragic end of what could have been a beautiful life yet a new start of healing; and healing, is one of the most important stages of life. You just never know how it is ever going to be after but there is still hope because God is always awake and listening to our silent cries and prayers. And hope too, can be brought about by me and you; by humanity, by helping the people who need us.

I read the below post by Dennis Onsarigo and I just felt it important to share this message. Let’s join hands and help this family. Help with the little much you can, every cent counts so let’s do this please.

Such is life…..By Dennis Onsarigo

I promised myself that I wouldn’t post the grisly pictures of a road accident I came across on Kiambu road on Saturday. I went ahead and told myself I would not even tell my friends or family about it. But today, is a testimony that kids are God’s and maybe, just maybe we must start living before we eventually exit the stage.

It has been a few days since I pulled out-with the help of other good Samaritans- three youngsters trapped in their father’s black motor vehicle. The youngsters, hardly ten years old were shaken, some were badly off.

Let me walk you through the first five minutes of the accident: A canter going downhill, a private motor vehicle speeding uphill; one must have lost control, drove into the path of the other….the rest I was told, was a loud bang, silence and then screams.

When I arrived there, the scene was chaotic, the mother, clad in her hijab.…was trapped in the passenger seat. I couldn’t see her face but I could feel her pain, her slow but painful bouts of wailing struck me so hard. Right behind her seat was her daughter, she was the oldest among her children, she was screaming for her mother, we were struggling to keep her calm, at times our shouting for a metal bar to free her from the car, drowned her screams. She was scared and terrified.

Her legs had disappeared under the mangled wreckage of her family car. Ironically, it appears the mother had taken most of the impact aimed her way. I looked and realized if she could feel her legs, if she could scream for the mother, a few more minutes wouldn’t kill her.

Just next to her was her other younger sister, she had blood on her face, she was screaming for the mother as well; I pictured the mother, hearing her daughters’ screams and wailing but there is nothing much she could do, she was stuck, her life flashing right in front of her eyes. I took her in my arms. A woman, whom I later learnt was a relative, came rushing my way, I handed her the young girl, we flagged down a vehicle, and off they went.

Then one man pulled out another young girl, she must have been three years old. She was badly wounded; her “baby” hairstyle neatly in place had been replaced with a gushing wound at the back of her head. The man, who took her out of the vehicle now holding her by the hands, appeared to give up on her.

Her neck had given in to the weight of her head, her eyes turning into a shade of white, he body turning blue and her soul giving up on her. The man placed her on the cold ground, it had rained that day; there she was, lying on her stomach, her eyes were not moving. For a minute I thought she was gone.

Next to her was her father, a touching distance between the father and daughter. She was breathing her last, my heart racing, trying to call an ambulance, I was struck; the youngster was going to die if nothing was done urgently.

I called AAR, I described the place and nature of the accident, the man at the end of the call asked me “ what kind of a vehicle has been involved in the accident?”, I paused, mad at first, resigned second, then I told him “ it is a private vehicle”, he promised to send the first ambulance available. I called the Nairobi traffic police boss Moses Katana, he promised to send a team of police officers, and they arrived minutes later. I saw the “mother” in one of the traffic police officers, she was distraught, but composed self and she was back to the rescue mission.

I walked back to the young gal. I imagined her hearing the faint voices of strangers shouting and trying to get the mother out of the mangled motor vehicle. Then I touched her small back, she had a pulse, her heart was racing so fast, I did not know her name, I did not know what she liked.

It was ten minutes after the fatal accident. I picked her up, blood on the back of her head, she was getting cold, her small fighting spirit maybe giving up on her soul. Then I started talking to her, I suspected she was slipping between death and life. She could move her eyes, breathe and then go quiet. It was terrifying.

In the confusion we managed to flag down yet another private motor vehicle. One girl in the back seat; the one I believed was badly injured in the safe hands of a relative, a red small vehicle sped off in high speed. The youngsters left behind their mother and father.
Two hours later I walked into Gertrude’s children’s’ hospital in Muthaiga and after inquiring about the four little angels, I was directed to the emergency room. I met the oldest girl in pain but all bandaged up and a busy nurse attending to her told me she was fine. Across the room, I could barely recognize the three-year-something-old little angel that I had seen at the accident scene. She was on oxygen, but in safe hands. A nurse attending to her said she had pulled through.
As I walked back to my car, three times now since the four angels were admitted to the hospital, it dawned on me and still does that life can be useless at times, but again, it can be all that we want it is all that we crave for.

The little girl- name withheld- was moved from the Intensive Care Unit to the general ward; I was with her today afternoon, she is amazing, she had fed and she was asleep. Her oldest sister, was playing with her mobile phone, she did not even look at me despite her aunt telling her I was not a doctor and I had no plans of giving her a jab.
They are fine. But they need your help, first they need to get well soon, then we must tell them the story of their mother and father. Then tell their father who is in a coma the story of his wife and his daughters. It is a tough place to be in as a father and husband.

But of immediate importance is their growing medical bill. If you’ve been touched, don’t hesitate to go visit them, or support them.

A brother to the mother of the youngsters gave me this account number:

SABRA KHAN,

DTB BANK

5109532001

Nation Centre Branch

You can as well call Shaheen’s sister (the mother to the young girls) – Sabra Khan-0722472166. And the kids would love to have you visit them.

Such is life.

I also read this piece elsewhere too, ‘Should Ahmed open his eyes he will understand that beside losing his wife, he also has a medical bill of approximately 4 million to the 4th of May 2016 to pay. That still continues to increase as they are all still in hospital. You might all ask about the insurance. It will only cater for approximately 1.5 million and the rest are for me and you. Mpesa no: 0722472166 Sabra Khan (Shaheen’s sister). Admission no Aga Khan AK1784560, Getrudes: 491242/43/46.

Please let us remember them in our prayers and help whenever we can. May God give the family patience through this difficult time. Keep sharing this message. You just never know when you will need such help too so never ignore. Such is life; it has lots of surprises, and sometimes, they are not so pleasing.

God bless you all.

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Creative Non-Fiction

JUST A FRUSTRATED WRITER

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Photo Courtesy: http://www.amsvans.com/

Sometimes I wish I could be a drama queen.You know like,’You are going to listen to me. Whether you like it or not!’ and just make noise till I get what I want. This has been my thought since morning today. I decided to wake up and do something once again after I had given up on all the newspaper houses I knew of. Well life is all about trying again and again,isn’t it?

I rushed into town with a very well plotted plan on how I was going to go into Nation media and approach the receptionist as confident as ever. I would look into her eyes with such a burn that she would get scared that I am just from murdering someone.I would ask for the editor and of course she would tell me he/she is not around. She would ask me what I need from the editor and that I can leave a message. I would lean forward and tell her in a deadly whisper,’I have a hot story worth your headlines. You better not let me go away from here because I am going to sell this story to the Standard and YOU (pointing at her) will be fired for letting a person like me not meet the editor. You are going to bite your fingers with regret and your editor will hit your head to the wall for making the paper go through such a loss. No other media house will take you in because everyone would have known how you let a story worth millions go to the competitor. Woman,you are going to be miserable forever.’ I would then walk away confidently and she would quickly pick her phone behind my back and whisper something before calling me out loud. I would turn as innocently as ever and ask,’are you calling me?’ and she would quickly nod before apologizing,’Sorry, the editor asks us to not let people in. They should just leave their message here.’
‘But I am not people did you notice that?’
‘Yes I did. Sorry once again. You can go in. His office is over there.’ She would say so apologetically as she shows me the way.
I would walk confidently into the office and give the editor an enigmatic smile.
‘I was informed you have a hot story. So i’m all ears.’ He would say after the greeting.
I would sit upright and cross my legs.
‘You are very lucky I choose Nation and if you are curious to know why then let not the suspense kill you. Do you remember ‘the falling star’ fiction story published 10 years back? I was just 12 years then but your paper declared me among the youngest best writers. Do you remember? Perhaps you don’t but I very well do. Let me show you (and I would hand him the well laminated piece of newspaper),this is why and how I’ve always considered myself one of you. When you declared me among the best writers, you gave me hope and this is when my writing journey started. This is when I decided i’ll be a writer for the rest of my life. So how dare you decide that i’m not worthy your newspaper now without even having a look at my CV? How dare you shatter my dream and of many other writers by letting secretaries deal with us instead of YOU deciding and listening to us and seeing our potential before declaring’THERE IS NO SPACE FOR ANYONE??! Please make me understand why things happen the way they do. Please make me understand why you let so many people give up just because of these boundaries? Someday I’m going to be the bestselling writer and I promise to remind you of all the CV’s I sent that ended to the secretary instead of the editor or HR’ *whispers ameen to that* Then I would courteously apologize for his time. The hot story was simply about the hundreds of talented writers who are never given the opportunities. I would leave my business card and my CV, just in case you know…he might still want the story…I’d say thank you and leave him as flabbergasted as never before. I wish it was as simple as writing it. See why I started with wishing I could be a drama queen? I would have spoken for so many other people who wish to do the same. But I am an activist by pen so this is what I can do best perhaps.

Well I was planning to make the editor as guilty as possible, ruin his ego and make him feel like the worst human being ever.Then after that I was going to go do the same at Standard,Nation, Star and all these newspapers I ever submitted my CV to and never got a response not even a humble one of,’We did receive your CV but unfortunately we don’t need a writer but we will surely consider it for the future.’ Isn’t there any etiquette left?

Well,being a drama queen was never going to get me a job or anyone but I needed to explode and when you have to,then make sure you do it at the right place;to the people who can change the course of things.

So when I finally got to Nation media house and as I adjusted my confident self,I got a face palm from the kind notice on the door,we have moved to opposite Pandya hospital.’ Aarrghh, my bubble burst right then. All that planning?! I console myself,’Everything happens for a reason. Everything happens for some goodness.’I look ahead and see Coast Weekly. Let me try over there.

I go to Coast Weekly and the personal secretary to the editor explains to me that the editor is not around and that she has to deal with me first before sending me forward to the editor. I was heartbroken once again.Why do editors keep these barriers always? Why do they let secretaries decide and filter whom is worthy being listened to?I saw it in ALL offices I went to and I ended up believing that to get a job especially in media industry you need to have strong connections in the hierarchy somewhere so that they can fix you the job. I do understand that secretaries are important and that without them we would have mediocre people and jokers storming in to the editor for silly issues but haven’t people seen that so much talent keeps being kicked off? What if,just what if,this person you sent away without listening to may be the light in your dark tunnel? Just what if they push your company to grow?

Anyway,I decided I had learnt from experience and said firmly I was only going to talk to the editor and no one else. I wanted my privacy I insisted but this lady explained that these are rules for the organization and had to be followed. I understood,it is like that always.Everywhere.RULES and boundaries. She offered to help and so I spoke to her. I was really pissed then. Pissed at how editors are acting like mini gods. Even God Himself doesn’t keep such boundaries!! The lady then recognized me from when I used to write for Coast This Week and praised my work. Now that she knew am talking from experience, I told her of how secretaries keep making decisions on behalf of their bosses and she said she understood me and that in their office, all that is received is open to all the key leaders in the organization. This kind lady tried to console me before asking for my contacts, just in case you know…I calmed down a bit and left the office.

Many thoughts been clouding my thoughts since then. You talk to people about these problems and they just sympathize. But we don’t really need the pity! We; writers have worked hard,got our good certificates,have the talent required yet why do we people have to treat us like orphaned children who have nowhere to go yet we have oceans of wisdom to offer? I know this happens to many other people as well in other sectors where you have to force a connection with a superior to make it through. Do our CV’s even get past the secretary or the editor just asks’what is that? A job application? Just put it on my desk’ and it rots there forever. Or is it thrown in the dustbin? Are the emails even read after we get the automated responses? It’s really annoying and sad.

I’ve always wanted to become an editor and the more I meet these boundaries so I don’t get to talk to the editors or HR managers, the more I want to become one. I hope this dream comes true someday because I will employ these writers who have nowhere else to take their work. I will make space for them even if there is none.I will give chances to these very talented people whose work is just getting old in the yellowing books. I will look beyond the certificates because I very well know of degree holders who have zero zeal while there are some local writers with so much passion that when kept on the great wall of China,it would explode from it’s weight.. I will not let any secretary or anyone decide on my behalf whether they are worth the job or not. I will listen to them myself and help if I can. I will pay them well and not peanuts like they always get. I will give them the utmost respect because these people;these writers are the people who are making a difference,they are the people who can awaken humanity.Yes, I am going to be the best editor that ever existed. You good people keep praying for me;someday by God’s will we will all be working together and we will make the best team in the world! Ameen!

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Creative Non-Fiction

WHEN THE HEART AGREES WITH THE MIND

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Photo Courtesy: http://www.loverofsadness.net/

By: Husna Lali

Remember the “Forever Alone” memes? Or the ‘mother’s’ joke that goes like “inner beauty doesn’t get you free drinks?” Not a joke anymore. Here’s why; but wait before we do please buckle up. This roller coaster will go only one way, up or down. Feel free to choose which one of the two. You’re either going to hate me for rubbing salt to that injury/ bruise that huge-like the China wall-ego and brand me a wannabe feminist or thank me for opening up your eyes to show you you deserve better/make you mend your ways.

It’s the 21st century,lower primary school kids have their ‘feelings’ all over the place, and mind you it is so normal it is frightening. I remember back in primary,having this huge crush that lasted ages, and by ages I mean years on a guy who got transferred to some other school and we never got to talk to each other way until early/almost mid 2012. Was he worth it?? Not so sure. Is it realistic?? Are you seriously waiting for an answer to that? Did I date him? Nope. But I did do some other guy. And by ‘do’ I mean go on a couple dates with him and isht.

I am going to talk about dating, and boyfriends/girlfriends and all these before marriage relationships. I won’t base it on religion. ‘nuf’s been said about that. From masjids, to IRE lessons to very strict parents who would make a very very big deal out of it to brothers who’d threaten to kick both your asses if he ever found you with some guy. I am going to base it on logic. It’s mind versus heart here. And the Genesis begins.

You know that thrill and those dopamine waterfalls that run through your nerves watering and blossoming each and every single fiber of your being? Crazy isn’t it? It went ahead and killed all your other logic senses and made you see the world in colors only you could paint, dreams only you could see and a language only you could speak and understand. You would be ready to sacrifice your own integrity and commitment just to see it work out, weren’t you? Well, been there done that. Fortunately or unfortunately I needed that just once to understand like really, it was all a mirage in this scorching desert called love. It was just some kind of a hypnosis that you seriously need to wake up from. Flick on that divergence switch and like Tris realize that it’s just a simulation. Unreal. (Divergent Fandom’s members will get this reference). It is all hormones getting excited and acting up like some chemical reactions/experiments you did in Chemistry and Physics.

Different people have different sets of DNA and other biological explanations on Genetists would care to point out. That we all know right? Ideally my levels of hormonal reactions and fluctuations are completely different from my sister’s even though we probably have a 51+% match. Again girls’ and guys’ hormones are also waaaay different from each other, making how we perceive to things differently. For example, a guy would take in pain and handle it differently from how a girl would. Makes total sense. So you can imagine how it does to a person who’s in love. Don’t get it twisted. I am for one, not against love. I absolutely love love. But is pursuing it worth my while? Is it going to diverge my focus from something that really matters, and capitulate me by gripping me with its demonic hands and make me a prisoner of my own being?

So you do fall in love, that cute guy from school, neighborhood, Facebook/Instagram, Friend of friend. The first weeks is all about the guy waiting for you to get online just so he can text you and tell you sweet words, cheesy lines and you get so invested in that relationship it turns out to be one of the very important things you got to do in a day.

I dare you to look back at such times, after you’ve been in a relationship for a few months, or give it years and then tell me if the thrill is still the same. In one way or another, interest is lost and by the time you realize it wasn’t worth it, it’s going to be too late; and a lot little.

I am going to point out only two reasons as to why you shouldn’t date; instead get married:

1) It’s a diversion to your life goals. As dead shot from comic says: “It’s a bullet to the brain (He meant love; but that’s just it). So you have goals in life; you want to be that teacher, media person, doctor, lawyer or engineer but you also wanna be that hopeless romantic actor, only this is a reality show. You can’t be two at the same time, as much as people claimthey can multi-task and isht. Take one step at a time and everything like the thought through chess pieces, will fit in the jigsaw of life.

As Lady Gaga says, if you ever think of choosing between your career and a love interest. Choose wisely because not a single day would you wake up to your career saying, “It’s over between you two” (Google the exact quote). I am not even a nerd, who would say I spend my free time studying, but I know that pursuing love is not worth this tie. That time will come, and when it comes you’ll know it.

Someone/some of you would say, it’s because I am afraid of love. That might be true. but then, putting all matters of the heart aside, why waste time on uncertainty, when there is the naked, crystal clear, staring right at you option of standardized certainty waiting for its turn to be coveted. Most of us have misunderstood or taken for granted what love is. Falling in love is not just falling for the appearance and the time spent together. Those are just spices to the word love. Love is devotion, caring, uplifting, compassion and most of all, building each other. You cannot be doing all this if you are diverging focus on what matters in life and call it love because come a time when shit is getting complicated, you can’t /won’t just rely on hormonal influx.

2) It’s definitely bound to become one sided. In a few-living together and merry making months of being in an illusion, one of you is obviously going to wake up and in turn burst the bubble. This could be because they realize the thrill is over, because yes, you let your guard down and got comfortable and there is no more masking your true self. And the other person becomes disinterested in the other, or it could be because they need to try out new things but you won’t do it with the one person you once found cute because there is another one ready to give just that. It doesn’t happen that way in a marriage and I am sure you know the “how’s the knot” narration because that union was built in a knot in the first place. It was meant to last forever in a marriage and you have witnesses. As for the dating period, it was just you, your boy friend and Iblis pumping his way down your vein. And this is where the one-sided love comes in.

I have been a Sydia shipper (the teen wolf fans will get this) since 2011 and believe me, I know the agony of waiting for someone to notice you, to notice your worth, to notice your existence in their life. As Stiles says, “unrequited love is a bitch.” So if it’s just a crush on a person, and it feels that way. How about someone whom you consider to be in a relationship with. FYI am talking about this on a shipper’s perspective; and it is tiring. You editing images of them and be like “one day yes.” “Drown your thirsty soul in the ocean!” says the little sensible voice,”because that thirst is unquenchable and you know it. “Get over it , and find yourself a Malia.

Guys (am not saying all) can be pretty much jerk-asses for all they know. The minute they know you’re into them, that’s like an agreement you cannot come out of. They can make you do stuff, (sometimes not even directly but they push you to) like post your half-naked pictures, post pictures of him, write your heart breaking story (after you are hurt) in the social media hoping that he will see it or someone will forward it to him yet all people will ever do is have pity and talk about you. Sweetheart, you’re a princess. Know your worth. Keep that head high because your tiara’s falling, for all the wrong reasons. By all means, if it’s anything that you should let fall, it’s that deadest of all weights you’ve been carrying around, waiting for it to realize your worth or even worse, making excuse for him while you’re at it.

There’s some post from @ silent perception, and it said something like, it’s not nature for a guy to sit around and let the girl do all the loving, caring and all devoting shit required in a relationship, while he sits around ignoring you like some celebrity who’s never met their fan. Most guys be ignoring their girlfriends because as they all put it, “Bro’s before hoes.” First, she’s not a hoe, and second, if you (lady) know your worth and have some self love and esteem, you would know there’s something called (“Homie-hoe-stasis”) and I bet we all know what that means. So the next time he avoids you severally in a row, and claims, he’s hanging out with some ‘bros’, just know he doesn’t deserve every second you’re wasting on him. Life is too short to waste on things that have no soul.

With this said, I might have seemed against loving/caring and giving your all in a relationship. Love, by all means love; but then again unless it’s passionate thrilling, satisfying, erotic and most of all mutual, there are so so so many mediocre things in life and love shouldn’t be one of them.

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Creative Non-Fiction

LIFE IN THE STREETS

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Featured Image: Salem_Beliegraphy

Slideshow by: Lubnah Abdulhalim

When I first started my work in Gladshouse (an NGO dealing with the homeless) in 2014 and saw the pathetic state of street life, I thought I wouldn’t make it to the end. Surprisingly, I was happier than usual and I gained weight. My mum always kept asking, ‘what are they feeding you there that’s made you gain? I think I should let you stay there always.’ Well I wasn’t surprised by her surprise. Everyone who knows me well, knows that I only gain weight when I am very much relaxed; something I’m not really good at. And ironically, out of all the places I’ve been, this depressing place made me happy. One of the first things I was asked when I joined the team was, ‘Ain’t you scared?’ Yes I was. My colleagues had already told me of the risks available; they lie. They steal sometimes. They can be flirty when high on glue and sometimes even without the glue. Nonetheless, they respect you when you respect them. Treat them like normal human beings, come down to their level and act like their mate to understand them.
Perhaps it is true when they say, for you to find happiness; you should first offer it to someone else. I didn’t have any specific post for I was a teacher, a social worker, a journalist and a marketer all at the same time. I wasn’t particularly a hero or anything, yet I worked with the real heroes who worked day and night to ensure the homeless are not forgotten. Volunteers from all over the work coming over just to make a difference in someone’s life. It was more of an exposure and adventure to me; something I had never seen in my life. Something worth seeing, experiencing and telling the world about.

Just the other day, one of my many bosses bumped into me as I headed to work and he offered me a lift as he too was heading there. We stopped in a store and my boss alighted. Just a few minutes after, one of the homeless boys I knew came and knocked on my window pane. I hesitated; I didn’t know how my boss would react when he sees me talking to him so I decided to step out of the car.
“Do you remember me?” I asked almost in a whisper but he didn’t reply. He was high on glue I noticed so I didn’t bother ask my question again. I remembered his name; they call him Mowgli, a very thin guy almost always walking with a stagger. He had escaped from the center several times as he went through rehabilitation and he was among the oldest survivors in the streets. He wasn’t really old in age, just old in the streets. I never knew his real name though. You never get to know because they keep changing their names as much as they change their stories of survival. I also never knew why they call him Mowgli, perhaps he was like the Mowgli we know of from the jungle book or he just liked the story? I never knew. Anyway my boss appeared shortly after that and quickly asked, ‘is everything okay?’ Mowgli went away…and my boss wanted to know more of his story. Several times in different times, I met several others on the streets in town. They come to beg for money and I realize they don’t remember me. They perhaps meet so many volunteers and perhaps we never really impacted their lives as we thought we did or perhaps they are just too busy surviving. (Call them survivors. They prefer that name).You can’t really blame them. But I never forgot them and I remember a few names still. I remember them for they impacted my life more than I did to theirs. And most of all, I really miss that place.

When you walk around town and meet those small children running about to beg for money, most of them are not homeless. For someone who has experience with street life you can almost identify and pinpoint exactly who is a beggar and who is homeless. Most people don’t understand that; Not all beggars are street children and not all street children are beggars. Most of the children begging in town have homes and sometimes, healthy parents who have just decided that the shortcut to survival is using the kids. So they come all the way from their homes and spread across town. The children are sometimes threatened to bring a certain amount of money, if not, they face the consequences. They never want to admit how they are forced of course but when persuaded they speak out. It can be so depressing listening to them. They will tell you that their mum is on the other street and their other siblings in other parts of the town. True that most are from very poor families and some have single parents, yet it doesn’t justify the use of blackmailing children to gain money. And these kids are really experts in convincing. When it is on a Friday they will tell you, ‘Leo ijumaa nisaidie nikale’ or how they would tell you of not having fare going back home and they can be so persistent in begging for the money. Wonder what the consequence is when they don’t meet the required amount. Perhaps no food tonight? Or being beaten? Or what other kind of punishment? I remember what one of my lecturers told me when we were approached by a boy who was begging. “Never entertain the habit of beggars. Perhaps if we all stop giving them whenever, then they will be forced to work like the rest of the world.” Of course there are those very genuine beggars who really deserve to be helped but not the ones who use their children as a source of money. For a while now, I detest walking in town, seeing all those children rushing to cars and people and insisting on getting something. I detest seeing them being used like that yet I am helpless so I just close my heart; (if there is anything like that), close my eyes and my ears. Walk as fast as I can as I still debate what exactly is the right thing to do; give them the money they are blackmailed for, or simply not entertain the bad habit of begging?

The homeless people on the other hand lead quite a different life. Some are beggars yes but when you go to the slum area where they live, you would see most of them hustling in one way or another. Some collecting garbage, some collecting bottles, some are conductors and many other of these petty jobs. You won’t believe this, but one fellow in the street even has a video room where they play movies and he charges his fellows for entrance. Some wear so neatly that you may never guess that they are homeless. The ladies are most of the times prostitutes and some give birth right in the street. I remember one of the very young girls in the street told me that the past three generations have lived in the streets; her grandmother, her mother and now her and her many siblings. Many girls are raped and used by men at very young age. It is so heart breaking when they tell you their journeys. Well some are very well-fabricated stories that can make you break down in tears. Damn they can lie! They know how to make you so empathetic and make you want to offer your entire life for their sake. But for the social workers they’ve known for years, they are able to play with their psychology and know their true stories. Some are so addicted to street life that they can no longer stay out of it. They are taken to centers for rehabilitation but end up running back to the street; they can’t live without the glue and many other of the practices only allowed in the street.

Years on after leaving the organization, I learnt that their ‘leader’ who used to take control of everything going on in their slum area (the place is called Maboxini because of the houses made of boxes I suppose) used to sodomize the young boys. I was shocked, perplexed, surprised, disgusted all at once. The same man whom we had trusted to take us around the slum area safely; the man everyone outside and inside the slum area had faith in. The same man who was considered the hero of slum land. The same man who was the hope of the children turned out to be a beast. I got to hear more of such heart breaking stories in the streets. Very small girls being made wives to big boys and of families separated by fate. Stories of boys and girls who couldn’t stay in foster care due to drug addiction. Stories of stigma and isolation by the society etc etc. There is a wall right at the end of the slum land; a huge wall separating them from a totally different world. On the other side is a playground where private school children come to play. And sometimes, standing on slum land, you could see the swings moving high up and down rhythmically. I used to wonder how it really feels for the street children who used to sit right on top of the trees and seeing all that; what are their thoughts in such moments? Perhaps, ‘this could be me?’ or ‘maybe some day this would be me in a private school, neat uniform and a huge smile as I swing and play?’ Sigh. But perhaps what made me relaxed with them was how happy they were despite their very sad state of living; how they play football of no rules. The games are quite funny, how the ball keeps going over the fence because some are high on glue and kick the ball with so much vigour and how the games are played with all age ranges and genders. How they would eat so excitedly and ask questions as they are taught the basics of education. How they would be concerned about their homeless mates who are locked up in cell. How they really really appreciate the food in their plates. How they never hesitated to show their gratitude to the volunteers who have dedicated their lives to help them. There were some good stories as well; like how one of the oldest boys in the street got to meet his mum after 20 years of separation by the efforts of Gladshouse, stories of street children going through rehabilitation and joining school again, stories of children being taken in foster homes and living well, stories of street world cup, stories of survival and hope. How they find joy and happiness in the smallest of things. By the time you leave that place, you know the real meaning of hope, struggle and perseverance. I remember talking to one dumb boy who was in the street world cup team. I interviewed him right before they left to Brazil. Can you believe it? Some people out there make it possible for street children all over the world to meet on a football tournament! and in Brazil!! You can imagine their excitement. So my interview with him was on written paper and in English because they are only taught in English in the special care schools. It was one of the cutest interviews I ever did I my life!

I made the above clip right before the world cup team left to Brazil for I was completing my attachment too. I remember how the CEO broke down in tears after seeing it. Amazing right? Amazing and amusing how someone who has dedicated her entire life to street children still cries for them. When I showed the clip to the boys, they were really excited about it. Well, majority don’t understand English so they didn’t really get what the clip was about but they kept laughing at their photos and shouting out the names of their colleagues. It made me overjoyed.

Working here, I saw humanity being restored. I saw love being painted on a dirty patch of white paper. I saw rainbows of hope and flowers of faith in a place where a seedling would never bloom. I learnt to appreciate life and most importantly, that no one should never under estimate what you can do for people less advantaged than us. Take part in restoring humanity today. Make a difference.

Still, I miss these beautiful souls.

#The best way to find yourself is in the service of others. -Mahatma Gandhi

If you liked this article then you might also like: “The tender forgotten side of the assumed devils” and ‘a ray of hope’ right here in my site. Don’t hesitate to ‘search’ for it.

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DEAR WIFE

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Photo Courtesy: http://feelgrafix.com/

By: Ahmed Shayo

Dear wife,,

How are u doing? It has been quite a while since i felt the familiar pleasure of watching the sun dance in the brown of your eyes. As you can tell, I miss u dearly, so much that I spend my days hear at work loosing myself in the gravity of thoughts that always lead me to you. I pray you are doing fine & well.

I must confess, it is rather unorthodox for me to write a letter, not because there exists a new technology that’s easier & simpler & faster to use than the internet, but because the last time i did this in primary school it turned out to be quite an embarrassing experience for me ?. Then again, since u got out of your way to write down one for me, i’d say I’m obligated return the favor, tat for the tit right? *wink* [no pun intended] ?

So where do I begin? Ironical how you think about someone for so long but when it comes down to putting words to the thought it all goes away. Then again, its always been the effect that you had on me. It should come as no surprise that my love for you seems to supercede the extent of what I can comprehend. Like color, its indescribable how a simple pigment pulls the attention of the eye to the detail it describes,, like the pink on your lips… Or the brown on your skin.. Or the light in your smile. It just is. And i cherish that, not coz i wanna sound like a love lorn Romeo in this letter,, but because they are the 1st things that made me attracted to you. [ps: i still do] ?

As a husband, i find it difficult to adjust to this life of commitment & mutual understanding. Before you came into my life, I ate irregularly, slept in a 1 bed-roomed apartment & rarely stayed home. Being a bachelor back then [a very eligible one i might add] has been a lifestyle i easily & naturally adopted to. Now I’m married with kids & am thinking, damn! I grew up too fast. But I have different priorities now. I have someone I can sacrifice my pleasures for. I have someone that waits for me to get home & when I do, she’s always complaining that i should avoid getting in the house past 10 pm. But hey, a man’s gotta do what he must, and since u decided to steal my heart I gotta work out how am gonna take care of u [i am not complaining by the way so you can relax]. So i’ll do what I can, keep u warm.. Satisfy u to the limits of my abilities [except during soccer matches, hapo itabidi umezee roho safi hadi game iishe ?]

You know, now that I think about it, I am actually proud that I got quite the exquisite taste in choosing a wife. Then again, my dad did have the same taste too so i figure it runs in the family. You are beautiful, so much that I wanna show u out to the world for a brief moment then hide u kabla mafisi wachangamke. That said, I expect u to maintain your dignity, not as a wife.. but as my wife. Ur the epitome of my pride, and if I loose that then I loose my worth. So take care of yourself in as much the same way that u’d take care of me. And i don’t need another wife and have to juggle in between sleeping in separate houses and satisfying both of y’all at the same time. Juzi tayari u almost bit my head off coz nilisahau kukuchukulia slippers kwa fundi ???

So anyway, I don’t really have a lot of standards. & thus letter wasn’t written just so I tell you how to be a wife and behave like one. You are matured. Am sure you have it all under control. This letter was simply to send out a declaration – everything i do, will do, and will never get tired of is keeping u happy. That’s all that matters to me, because as a husband, i believe that should be my top priority. The things we do for love right? You are lucky you married a luhya, cheki vili unatunzwa hapa ?

Am signing out now. These bills won’t go away even if I kiss them like I kiss you *wink*. I love you gorgeous. Take care.

Yours eternally,
Ahmed

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THE DEMONS WITHIN

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CONTINUATION OF THE ARTICLE, ‘WHEN BULLYING GETS SO REAL’

Photo Courtesy: pinterest.com

As I write this, I know I am speaking for so many people who have been victims of bullying and thereafter became either of two; a doormat or a monster they created. Being treated like a doormat sucks. It can happen for no apparent rhyme or reason; people using you, treating you like a dogsbody, walking all over you or not thinking about what you want or what’s best for you. The trouble is, the more it happens, the more you feel like you can’t change it; the more it happens the smaller you get.Being a doormat makes you become a people-pleaser; You do everything to please everyone. As for the monster created; a person becomes so bitter about life and people and just hate the idea of having to deal with human beings. They become like an angry lion who doesn’t want to speak to anyone and just wants to be alone because people can’t be trusted and are just too evil.

For a long time my personality fluctuated between being a doormat and being the bitter monster. Between trying so hard to please people and pushing them away at the same time. I read this from an article called, ‘From Doormat to Bitch In 5 Seconds Flat; Assertiveness: The Happy Medium’ about another victim who says, ‘Those of us with Borderline Personality Disorder ( a condition characterized by difficulties in regulating emotion. This difficulty leads to severe, unstable mood swings, impulsivity and instability, poor self-image and stormy personal relationships) often think in black or white terms (all or nothing), or dialectics. In the case of being passive versus assertive, in the past, I saw no middle ground. I’d either respond in a completely passive way, allowing others to take advantage of me, or I’d turn into a complete and total bitch, full of anger, hostility, and judgment. I would go from feeling like a doormat to exploding in response to the resentment, and I could be quite cruel. There is a middle ground, and the journey there is paved with learning boundaries and self-care.’ And I too go through the same extremes being submissive and being too bitter. You just get too moody and trust me, it’s not the life you’d wish for.

I didn’t even know that this is the consequence of the childhood bullying I went through and I kept asking myself, ‘what is wrong with me?’ This question can be so damn irritating and annoying because you don’t know if you are the problem or the rest of the world.

The seeds of people-pleasing are usually planted in childhood, according to Jay Earley, author of Finding Your Life Purpose. “Often, parents will simply tell kids what to do and never encourage them to assert themselves,” he says. “When the kids obey, the parents give them conditional love.”

Such an environment sends a subconscious message to children: The only way to feel valuable is to comply with others’ demands, give others what they need, and “go with the flow.” The pattern only solidifies as children grow up, fearing that if they do not strive to please, people will not love them. They respond to this perceived threat by becoming obsessed with meeting others’ needs. Because girls are typically trained from an early age to accommodate and defer to others, a disproportionate number of people-pleasers are women.

Once established, such behaviors become self-reinforcing which makes them difficult to uproot. They get rewarded by bosses, co-workers, and friends just as they do by parents, prompting pleasers to assume doormat postures over and over again in hopes of receiving more kudos.

A doormat typically thinks he is below everyone else on earth. He/she apologizes a lot. And by a lot I mean A LOT. I have been apologizing my entire life; saying sorry for things I didn’t do, taking the blame, apologizing to people who don’t even deserve a greeting let alone an apology. I said sorry like it was the only vocabulary in my dictionary. And even when saying this I feel sorry for myself; for having neglected myself for too long. No, this is not for you to feel pity for the ones with doormat syndrome/ personality. It is for you to watch up your actions when dealing with emotionally ‘weak’ people rather than taking advantage. Nonetheless, doormat personality never really made me weak; it made me stronger and a survivor. It made me know how to cross oceans on foot and how to walk on cactus. It made me value the true people in my life and appreciate humanity.

A doormat easily gets walked on by others and is a victim of mistreatment. He/she believes she is always in the wrong somehow and thus the continuous apologies. They often feel life is unfair and wants people to feel sorry for them. They need approval from others because he/she doesn’t approve of herself. I for example have been seeking approval of everything I do and say; of every single thing with the exception of going to the loo maybe lol. My friends are my witnesses. I always needed someone to tell me ‘you have done the right thing’, ‘yes you should do that’ ‘Yes you are not wrong.’ And even when I do something without an approval, I would still seek it after. It’s depressing because you will never miss someone opposing your thoughts and in turn, it makes you start feeling guilty that you did the ‘wrong thing’. As such, doormats are very poor decision makers and being put in situations where they must make a decision is a great dilemma. This does not only go for great life decisions but also simple issues like choosing a dress. This makes them go for anything and accepting being kept as the last option because they don’t really know their worth.

A doormat complains to others the unfairness of others because they get comfort in sharing their pain with others. They are easily taken advantage of and are afraid to confront people in their lives. They can rarely say no when asked to do something by others and they usually find their power by making others feel guilty. Lol, the latter has always been my number one weapon to deal with wicked people (followed by my number two weapon of using sarcasm). And the more bitter I was, the more i’d make you feel guilty. Well, it’s never on purpose. It just comes automatically. Yes, I will re-tell what you did to me, how you hurt me, how it damaged me and how you are going to regret 😀 Yes, you are definitely going to regret especially when you see my 50 messages and 20 missed calls 😀 Yes again, I am that paranoid but I have always believed that confronting people who have hurt you is always best than telling it to other people. So I usually write to the people involved; I’d write until the pen goes dry and my hand aches. I’d make sure to describe my every feeling at that moment and send it to the person who hurt me. When I am too angry, I could write it in both paragraphs and point form. You know, to make it more interesting 😀 The ones who have fallen victims of my very long paragraphs will vigorously nod at this and be like, ‘damn she can write!!’ 😀 Trust me, it makes you damn satisfied. That you were able to make a heartless person have a pinch of guilt in their heart is not a joke you know? 😀 You feel accomplished; like you have put that person in their place and now let karma and guilt deal with them. Well, making someone feel guilty has never been the right way to deal with villainous people because even their guilt is never long lasting, but when you are a doormat, you barely have anything to make you feel better. To make it worse, very few people actually understand what you are going through and the support is little so you just do whatever makes you feel right and for me, it has always been to write you a detailed description of the state of my heart. Oh yes, it works miraculously. Always made me feel like super woman, cat woman or something like that 😀

So how does a people-pleaser end the cycle? While perpetual pushovers often lack self-worth and clear direction in their lives, breaking the cycle is complicated. The cure is not abstinence—neglecting others’ needs entirely means crossing the border into narcissism. Take a close look at what situations trigger your pleasing behavior and why. “People-pleasing behavior comes from fear, from an assumption that others are in control of you. Healthy behavior comes from genuinely wanting to be connected to people,” Earley says. “Ask yourself, ‘Why am I doing this? Is it because I really care about this person, or because I’m afraid I’m going to lose them?’ ” This kind of questioning can help you uncover the source of the fears underlying your people-pleasing bent. Did your parents’ conditional love lead you to dread abandonment? Did the pain of a past heartbreak make you overly anxious about offending or disagreeing with your new partner? Consider the answers and discard fears that don’t make sense anymore.

Be receptive to others’ concerns, but don’t leave your own by the wayside. How to make sure you’re the one manning the controls:

1. Start with you: Change starts with you dialing up your self-worth; something that can be started in the following ways:

a. Really give yourself credit for your achievements—all those things you’ve done and gone through in your life.
b. Get to know your values—those things that are woven through you and are the cornerstones for who you are.
c. Prioritise the nourishment of your body, mind, and heart—nobody else can keep you nourished and caring for yourself.

2. Start teaching others: “You teach people how to treat you“. If someone is regularly treating you like a doormat, their behaviour is not okay. Your task, and I get how scary this might seem, is to change your response to start giving them that message. This doesn’t have to be a big, dramatic showdown; it can be done gently and with the same respect that you want. You might be scared, but you know what you need to do.
As the famous line goes, help them help you.

3. Stall for time. If someone puts you on the spot, politely defer: “I’ll check my calendar and get back to you tomorrow.” Then you can assess whether the request fits in with your schedule and goals.

4. Examine your motivations. People-pleasing seems like the epitome of niceness, but pleasers may assume their submissive postures because of what they expect in return. Being a people-pleaser might begin with the best intentions, but if you’re not careful, you keep on doing so because you want to see how pleased they are with what you’ve done or even to hear those magic words: “Thank you”. Being a people-pleaser can turn you into a bottomless pit—that not only sees others take advantage of you, but seriously damages your self-esteem. People-pleasing is not a selfless act; it’s a selfish one. It’s a flawed way to feel good about yourself, so stop it. How can you be more generous with yourself? And how would it be if you could be generous for others, not because of any validation but because there’s value in the very act of giving?
If you grant someone a favor, do it because it fulfills you—not to get something back. As a famous quote says, ‘when you do someone a favour with expectations, it’s business not kindness.’

5. Role-play to practice asserting your needs. Get a friend to play a pushy boss, parent, or acquaintance—whoever triggers your people-pleasing. Then practice saying no to unreasonable requests until it starts to feel natural.

6. Apply confidence: If you’re used to people walking all over you, it’s likely that you’re not used to asserting yourself. Natural confidence is being able to trust your behaviour with implicit faith in your abilities, so when you’re doing something, there’s no doubt about your ability to do it—you have full confidence. Applying that same sense of confidence to a new situation is what allows you to operate right at the edge or just out of your comfort zone, and this will feel uncomfortable. That feeling of discomfort isn’t the enemy and it doesn’t mean you don’t have confidence, it just means you’re someplace new. Trust yourself to do what’s best.

7.You’re Not Alone: If your ill-treatment has been happening for some time you might be feeling isolated in your experience, so it can be extraordinarily useful and important to talk about it, or even to ask for some support or help. Other people are going through what you’re going through, and you don’t have to do this alone.

Asking someone you trust to talk about what’s happening is not only a great way to offload a little, it just might allow you to step back enough to see a fresh perspective or another way through. You don’t need anyone to fix things for you, so don’t let that be your motivation here—the point is to connect with another human being so that you’re supported through this.

Think about it this way: if a good friend of yours was going through the same thing, wouldn’t you want to hear about it and support them in attaining something better?

8. Raise your expectations: There’s a massive cost to lowering your expectations to that kind of level, and the act of lowering your expectations and accepting bad treatment can be more damaging in the long run than the bad treatment itself.

Don’t ever make assumptions about what you should put up with or what you should expect. If you’re going to have any expectations about how things should go, base them on what you’d love to see happen, not what you wish wasn’t happening.

9. If All Else Fails
If you’ve truly done all you can to change things and to stop being treated like a doormat and nothing seems to work, then get the hell out. Life is way too short to have your experience of it and your self-esteem damaged by someone else, and sometimes you need to make a brave choice.

If you need to, be willing to remove yourself from the situation or relationship and start building the kind of life you’d love to live.

10. You deserve better: You don’t need to “keep on keeping on”, and you don’t need to put up with being treated like a doormat.

You deserve better, so make a start.

It’s not easy, I very well know but this is our journey to self-love, to happiness, to healing and to have wings. Let those demons out. Do not let all the bitterness, anger and pain destroy you. Again, do not forget, you are not alone. Seek help and most importantly, learn to forget. It may take time for you to forgive the people who made you what you are but do know that forgiving people is good for your soul. Do it for yourself. Do it not because they deserve it by because you deserve the peace of mind. Because you deserve better.

Also do know that not everyone will be happy that you are changing. For now people may shower you with praises and say you are the best but that’s just because you are always there for them and ready to serve them in whichever way. Well who doesn’t like to play the queen/king role? They are glad to have you because you can easily be manipulated and controlled. Perhaps this self discovery journey is what will make you know your true friends for they are the ones who will support you to change and to become assertive and firm.

Before I end this, I’d really like to thank my family and very few friends who’ve been SO patient with me; my mood swings, my bitterness to the world and my low points. And to my best friend; for always pushing me to be assertive and for fighting for what I deserve from other people. Thanks for trying to understand me and for encouraging me to seek help. My most sincere gratitude to Mrs Salma Bashir for leading me on this healing path.

REFERENCES:
http://www.my-borderline-personality-disorder.com/
Psychology today
self-love-u.blogspot.co.ke
www.lifehack.org

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THE INTUITIVES VS THE PRACTICALS

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By: Rashid Hussein Shariff

Photo Courtesy: ravenessences.files.wordpress.com

It’s been quite a while since I spoke to my former classmate.Tonight she’s calling from Germany. Immediately,Imaginations of Berlin wall conjure up,and as expected,my mouth is executing as fast as my thoughts are formed are formed.Call it “Thinking aloud”.The next thing i know,I’m spewing historical facts of Berlin wall and how it was destroyed in 1989.At this juncture,a sigh -pregnant with boredom- is heaved on the other end.Alas! I am talking to a ‘practical’ human being living in 2nd April 2016.This and many other instances,remind me about two kinds of people:The ‘intuitive’ and the ‘practical’.Some of us are at the extreme end of either personalities while others oscillate in between.

So who’s this ‘intuitive’ person? She’s the kind who looks beyond the facts.In fact,she gives meaning to everything she sees.While you see a finger nail,she sees Keratin, and if you’re keen enough she doesn’t mind bombarding you with information on the chemical structure of the amino acids that make up Keratin.I proudly identify myself in this category,though with time i have learn’t to bite my tongue when talking to a ‘practical’ character,as is the case tonight.At this point, our conversation hovers around the German car industry,we talk about the pristine design of the Mercedez Maybach .Meanwhile, my mind randomly picks a principle of design ‘form follows function’ from an archive of industrial design literature that i have,thus so far,read.But with grace i swallow it back as quickly as it came.Of course,for the sake of a lively conversation with my ‘practical’ friend,on the other side of the phone.In a nutshell,these ‘intuitive’ types like to see the big picture,they trust impressions,symbols and metaphors more than what they actually experience.They’re fond of leaping between ideas and possibilities when solving a problem.They are dreamers who see possibilities that sometime exceed their ability to turn them into reality.These are ‘intuitives’.

On the opposite end,are people like my friend.Unlike their intuitive counterparts who would imagine the pixels making up the screen.To the, the screen is just that:A screen! They’re concerned with what is actual,present, current and real.A very efficient way of losing their attention in a conversation;is by ranting theories-explaining why things are the way they are.They trust experience more than they trust words and symbols.They start with facts then form a bigger picture.They pay so much attention to facts that they miss new possibilities.Be actual,be real. That’s how you appeal to these kinds when communicating with them.

Either way,I don’t intend to say which is better.As a matter of fact these personalities can work seamlessly while occasionally complementing the other.At any given time the intuitive will see the bigger picture within a project and thus provide direction through plans and strategies while the ‘practical’ asses and operationalize those plans..

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FAILURE

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Poem By: Aydaah (13 years)

Photo Courtesy: www.goodenessgracious.com

Failure is indeed the worst,
The disappointment inside your heart,
It haunts you from the present to the past.

Misery and pain rule the universe,
Failure a burning curse,
The failure has defeated each and every one of us.

To think that you have done enough,
To think that you have done you’re very best,
It always breaks even the little stuff,
Well what you thought was not the case.

Failure is in our blood and veins,
It’s washed your happiness with massive rains.

Failure will always, always shatter you,
From a beautiful painting,
Into a disastrous view.

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DEAR HUSBAND

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Photo Courtesy: www.ayeina.com

Dear Husband

Please notice that I refrained from using the term future because let’s face it, you were my husband ever since our fate was sealed by The Sealer of all Fates. Cool? Okay.

So lately there has been a brawl about future husbands and wives and space and marriage life; I tell you the cycle is vicious. I thought about it and decided, let me give him a heads up on the load of weird and a spicy amount of old-fashion he is about to spend his entire life with.

First things first, or last. Who cares? Spontaneous and flexibility is paramount…as one of my friends keeps it. I am not sure if this is true but my mother always has us like “the way to a man’s heart is his stomach.” Either Biology went wrong here or mother nature is a freak. Again, who cares? I am not as good a cook as your mother or mine is simply because my mother’s recipes do not have exact measurements of the ingredients. She puts everything together and it comes out a nice aromatic pile of edible stuff. Don’t get me wrong. I have done a fair amount of cooking (my ungrateful brothers once said my cabbage stew tasted like weeds). I usually like to think that they were being realest…you know criticising me on my face and praising me behind my back. Either way what I cook has never caused them any food poisoning. So yeeeey!! You know the statement “Cooking isn’t obligatory for the wife. It’s a favor”. I just want to let you know that I am so honored to do you that favor and I promise that in between our careers and job schedules we’ll have at least 2 home-made-by-me meals. I might need help sometimes, please make it easier for me and be considerate when need be.

Guys’ Time?? You have it. I have learnt from my brothers that watching football by yourself doesn’t give you the thrill. Yeah, go watch it with your buddies but I will totally need a payback (before or after…just to make me feel ‘not less important. Heads up…that large container of ice-cream or a weekend get away or even a little help with something in the house would soften me up 😉 ). Since we’re on this subject, please do not feel bad or abandoned when I say I am going to spend time with luby or the girls or even mum. I think that is a fair tat for the tit. In short do not make me feel guilty or have to choose between them and what you love to do with your buddies.

Emotions Sheet?? They say marriage is not a bed of roses. We’re probably going to have rough days and nights. Argue about stuff that may seem silly to either one of us. One or two things I would like from you.
1) we will not do it in front of the kids.
2) we will not take for granted the other’s side/perspective and or thoughts.
3) we will be clear and precise on what is needed to be discussed
4) we will not go to bed angry at the other. (Just in case it’s a huge mess up..dude, I am so taking the bed)
I am going to be honest with you here. I usually have my temper and emotions in check. Learnt it from my old man and brothers. I will be the water when you’re the fire but please do not make me so angry that I end up comparing you to them or wishing I still lived with them.

I am very choosy when it comes to talking about my feelings; especially when I am having a meltdown. I have been known to be bricky. I go silent or rather low-key for a while, it is not your fault, that is usually how I recharge my system. My best friend usually has a hard time getting me to talk about such stuff. My mother, my big brother and her, are among or rather the fewest who know what my mind thinks of or wanders to. Just in case I will lose any of them in the process, please be there to fill in their shoes, or most importantly, take over their place when I am living with you. I have, on several occasions been told that I am good listener and a mood lightner. So if you’re having a stressful day with your workmates, I promise I will be there to talk about it. Or if it’s stuff from work that had to be finished at home, I will help you with that, even if it just means sitting quietly across the table or floor as you work. All in all I wanna be that person whom you can’t wait to tell what happened when we were not together.

Family?? This is one thing I am most afraid of. You know how girls feel threatened by mothers and sisters in law? I have a history of really not caring what people say about me. My mother for example has tried to change me to wearing and acting like a girly girl because I am not like the others or that is not what is expected of me. I like to do things my way. My comfortable way. I am not going to disregard whatever they are going to advise me. But please let it be just that. Advice. Which I am entirely free to choose to follow or not. I am going to defend your honor in front of my family, please do so in yours. I know it might seem like I am asking you to pick my side, but it is not. I am simply asking you to put yourself in my shoes when it comes to such situations and act wisely. I will accept faults when due. I will not accept you siding with your mother or sisters just because “they know you better”. While I am not known to be violent, I am known to be cold and calculating when it comes to proving a point. P.S Your mother and sisters can come over anytime they want. They just shouldn’t interfere with how am raising you and the kids.

Social life?? I do not like people. That is one thing you should know. But when forced to interact, I charm people at it. I am not a fan of huge crowds, so on most occasions where I have the liberty to choose between going to events and staying at home. Home is the definite answer. I like staying at home and having an alone time, but I promise if it’s a work event, or your friend’s or work mate’s wedding, I will definitely be your plus one. I like to think myself as adventurous. Please have a hint of that. I am talking road trips (even if it means going to your mother’s place.), long lazy walks, sight seeing, trying out new risky stuff like bungee jumping (I will never do this…but I suppose I should trust you enough with my life to do this with you because am not even kidding you when I tell you I would NOT do it with my brothers. This is because I learnt my lesson when I let one of them put me in his bicycle’s ‘basket’ and we ended up rolling down some hilly/unleveled grounds.) Though me and Lubnah have stuff in our bucket list, if it’s not accomplished then or she gets a very strict husband who wouldn’t let her or do it with her, please make this bucket full by supporting me/us (you get the point here.)

And now to the most delicate most unappreciated and most sensitive subject. Co-wifing??
This is settled, though my sisters and married friends say it’s hard and that they cannot handle it. I would like to say otherwise. I don’t see it big of a deal that I have a lady whom I share a husband with. Let’s be realistic here and try not to use hearts to think. See, the ratio of men to women is a little unbalanced and kind of favors us more.Fortunately or unfortunately. So I think I would rather you married her so she gets a better life than either letting her suffer or you commit zinaa. I know it’s going to sound ridiculous to the girls, but yeah..that’s just it. Buuuuuut….just because I said this doesn’t mean you do it out of sheer spite or the fun of it. Do it if you feel you must and when you know you can be just with both of us. I mean I will obviously be jealous of her or you and her but I promise I will not be malicious. If I am going to be a co-wife I wanna be the kind where she is comfortable enough to leave her kids with me and know that they’re in good hands. Before we wrap it up, just in case it wasn’t clear, I wanna be the first wife, not for superiority reasons, but just in case she’s not as cool with it as I am. I do not want to be hated for ‘stealing someone’s spot in their husband’s life’.

I think we’re great for now. Just in case you need clarification or I was vague about it. I am not going to be a housewife. I did not just spend at least 22 years of my life getting up and going to school and trying my best just so you let me waste away. That is not fair. To me, my parents and siblings, who’ve always had my back when they weren’t holding my hand. I don’t wanna be that brick in your wall of life. I wanna be the cement that’s holding it together as you build our empire. Do not make me choose you over this. Because trust me, I will not hesitate choosing the latter and I will have nothing to lose in thee process.

On a completely different yet relatable subject. I love reading can we please have a space where I can consider it my personal library?? Also if J.K. Rowling or John Green releases new books. Please get me a copy? Yeah thank you. And I love you for this

Thank you in advance. Feel free to be awed, intrigued, threatened or all at once. See you in a while.

With love,
Your wife who has her priorities and visions set straight.

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Creative Non-Fiction

WHEN BULLYING GETS SO REAL

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Photo Courtesy: www.ayeina.com

When you have been a victim of bullying for a greater part of your childhood or even adulthood, the effects of it can be long-lasting. We often take for granted what we say and do to others; very much such that we ignore how much we have affected their lives. My mum told me her story of when she was very young of maybe not more than 10 years. So she was living with her aunty and cousins and one day her aunty trusted her with some money to go deliver to a teacher in her school, who was also a family member. She was so proud of herself. You know the feeling you get when you are trusted from a crowd and given the honour of delivering an amanah. As young as she was, she felt so confident and she walked into the staff room full of teachers with her head held high. She gave the money as expected but unfortunately, the teacher didn’t count the money when she received it (this again shows the importance of checking and confirming what we receive as soon as we get the amanah). Later on, the teacher reported that she received less money. So mum was summoned and asked why the money was less and she obviously defended herself that she gave it as it was. Three of the family members started interrogating her one after another taking turns. One would ask if she had taken the missing money and beat her up in the process, when he got tired another would come and do the same. They kept beating her and beating her until one of them said, ‘we won’t stop beating you unless you admit you took the money.’ Having no other way out, mum confessed of a crime she hadn’t committed and it was only then that they stopped beating her. Although she was let go, she admits that to date, that is one thing she will never forget in her life. That she was declared a thief and harassed and hurt badly for something she hadn’t done. While growing up, she kept saying that she will never forgive those who did that to her. No I don’t blame her. I have several people that to date I say I will never forgive. It’s not easy as one may presume. One side of me really wants to forgive and forget but there is that bitterness you live with for the rest of your live. You become just so annoyed with people and life. You really can’t wait for karma to get back at them. In fact you wish that when it all happens, you be right there to remind them, ‘remember what you did to me? Now this is karma paying you back.’

In psychology, bullying is a distinctive pattern of deliberately harming and humiliating others. They couldn’t exist without victims and they don’t usually just pick on anyone; they single out people who lack assertiveness and radiate fear far long before they encounter bullying, which is so true. I have built walls as big as the great wall of China around me. Its defensive mechanism on always. You don’t wait to be attacked, you are already keeping guard. Most people think bullying is just the physical; pushes, shoves, hitting, kicking and punching yet there is the verbal one of name calling (which I’ve been a victim of), taunts, threats, ridicule and insults. There is also the psychological/emotional manipulation whereby someone blackmails you emotionally so that they can get what they want, a tactic which is mostly used by girls. They keep you close by, discovering your secrets and weaknesses then pap! using you by that. So girl bullies mostly use intimacy as a medium of control. Oh please don’t ask me what I have had to do because of girl bullies. They sometimes spread vicious rumours, mock you; mock you really badly at your looks, your tribe, race, your name, just anything they can mock you about; openly and secretly but since some girls can barely shut up, word will always get back to you. They tell others to stop liking you, they try to dominate you, look at you like crap, Intimidate you, threaten to withdraw friendship in order to get their way or simply giving you the silent treatment. As for boys, their aggression plays into goals shown to be important to them such as physical dominance, have things or instrumentality.

Something like what happened to mum happened to me too in my primary school. It was a boarding and day school but the rules were so strict that no day scholar should ever share or bring food to the boarders. Well it is an absurd rule but they say it is for ‘health and hygiene’ purposes. So my ‘friends’ yes, in quotes, used to borrow me food nonetheless. And since many know of how it’s hard for me to say no, I still used to buy them food or share the one from home as well. So there is a day the boarders were summoned to name out all the day scholars who offer them food. Majority of the boarders in other classes refused to mention names but apparently that wasn’t really my lucky day. So someone, from among’st the ones I used to give food to, mentioned my name. Don’t ask me how I was punished that day. Ask me what my skin colour was by the time I left the office. I had been caned below the knees and the place had turned greenish black such that my aunty had to come to school and complain about the severe punishment. Then you go to class and someone simply says ‘sorry?’ SORRY?!! Seriously?? No, you are not about to say sorry and expect me to forgive you. Some of you will probably think it’s silly to have not forgotten such a small thing. It may be a small thing to you but for me it wasn’t. It was betrayal. Betrayal that made me unable to walk comfortably for a number of days. You know, when you have been a victim of bullying for a long time, you become submissive, so did I. So yes, I still kept sharing my food with these same ‘friends’. I still kept doing homework for people, still giving out my book for people to copy, still giving and giving out more, still doing so much for people I called ‘friends’.

You know, it is so unfortunate that we come from a society that doesn’t value emotions or at what stage of our emotional make up we are at. All we care about is how far we are in material life and the only other important issue we ask about is why or when you are going to get married. It is so unfortunate because people keep their calm in these issues and be like, ‘who in Africa commits suicide because of bullying? I mean, we are born in a scorching sun continent in a hungry continent in a miserable continent where slavery took place. You have no right to be in pain, hurt or even say what you really feel. You have no right to be suicidal, I mean did you forget that the Maumau fighters died for you to live in this independent country?! You forget that what goes into your stomach is more important than those silly thoughts and complaints you have about everything and everyone? You forget that Mandela was jailed for 27 freaking years in jail confined to a small cell, the floor his bed, a bucket for a toilet, he was forced to do hard labor in a quarry. He was allowed one visitor a year for 30 minutes. For you; people like you; for Africa and Africans, for racism to end!! Grow up kid, grow up!!’ And then after that we are surprised when we see people become monsters. You made them so. You, who keeps being reckless with your words and actions. You who keeps complaining whenever victims talk and write about it. Oh, today, for once I won’t bother what anyone will say about this. Please, if you are in pain, if you feel like your world is crumbling by, if you feel like you are just being used then talk about it. Take a speaker and shout it out if it is what makes you feel better. Write. Write many many paragraphs as you wish. Write because it is the only thing that will make you relieved. Draw, shout. Do whatever you want. Please do it but just don’t kill yourself. Do it because you are the only one who knows how much pain you are in. You are the only one who knows what is your drug and what can make you feel better. Let them call you an attention seeker, they called me that several times but are they any better being egoistic judging you by your pain? NO. So let them call you what they want but do what it takes to make you feel better.

Never underestimate the effects of bullying and manipulation. It is like a ghost haunting you forever and unfortunately for me, it took me so long to realize that my ugly past made me end up to be a door mat in my adulthood. So heal yourself in your own way. I usually take these breaks from the world I call, ‘self discovery/realization breaks’ where I just sit alone and think about my life, how I have been and how to be better. I cut out communication with people and log out of social media. Trust me, it is healthy. People will think you are just being a weakling but again, never mind. They know not what your journey has been or is.

There are several reasons why a bully becomes a bully and why a victim becomes a victim. A bully is someone who hasn’t learned kindness, compassion and respect. They usually don’t need a reason to hurt others, they just want to feel stronger, smarter or better than the person they are bullying. They direct their frustrations, hurt, anger and difficulty to others. They just like to feel tough for most of the times they are more physically built than the victim. Sometimes people engage in bullying simply because they are part of a group and not because it is their behaviour. But since they want to feel part and parcel of the group, they participate in anti social behaviour. Well for those who know Miss Agatha Trunchbull of the Matilda movie, then she is definitely the perfect example of a big bad bully. And as for the victims they usually fall into the bully’s trap probably for being at the wrong place at the wrong time i.e. working in a place where the bully considers you a threat, being competent i.e. successful, innovative , creative…you are just prone to envy. Being popular, having strength in character i.e. honesty, integrity, trustworthy, having vulnerability i.e. low assertiveness, Revenge i.e. sometimes a person responds to bullying with bullying or having raised concerns about bullying, fraud, safety or any matter where the bully feels implicated or at risk as a result.

Most of the times, victims cry and assume defensive postures. Being submissive is one of them. Not only do they not fight back, they hand over their possessions, handsomely rewarding their attackers psychologically and materially; powerfully reinforcing them. Perhaps another worst memory I have of my past as a child was how I sometimes used to really convince and persuade my sister to give out her stuff to ‘my friends’ even when she didn’t want to simply because they liked the thing. It haunts me to date for in turn, it made me a bully to my sister.

Bullies’ ultimate goal is to get a response. When they manipulate you psychologically or emotionally, they want to use you to get something i.e. ‘You know you are my best friend and I have no other friend but you, please help me do this…or give me this thing i really like it’ and when they get physical, it is usually to get to your nerves. They want you to fight back and most importantly, LOSE.

The best way to handle a bully is by avoidance; just know when to walk away. You don’t have to listen to them. Sometimes you can use humour to defuse a bully who may be about to attack i.e. ‘guess who is talking? The one with a D at school wants to give me life lessons’. Well maybe not exactly humour but sarcasm. Trust me, sarcasm has been my number two weapon. Well you will know of the first weapon in my next article where i will write about the door mat personality in shaa Allah. Anyway, another way to handle a bully is being assertive i.e. ‘Just back off please…’ or ‘Get a life’. Also you can recruit a friend. Having a friend is one of the most powerful protective measures. Oh ask me about it. I’ve been hiding behind my best friend in forever and she is just untouchable lol. She is God sent trust me 🙂 Another way, you may seek friendly people to be one of them. It helps when you have people to support you and help you stand up when you fall.

As for parents, you need to ensure your children have assertive behaviour. Ask them how their peers treat them, model good relationships at home because bullies are not born, they are made and it starts from the home they grow up in. Instill in your children empathy and compassion; let them learn how to be humane from a young age. One other important thing we should know and let children know too is that bullying is bad for the bullies themselves more than anyone else. It makes them angry and furious people which later on greatly affects their relationships i.e. they become batterers. They usually make identical cognitive distortions and attribute hostility to others where it doesn’t exist. This misinterpretation gives bullies and batterers alike a way to justify violence. It is the greasy gear with which they typically shift onto others the blame for their own misdeeds. Bullies also tend to have their children becoming bullies for they feed the next generation with a belief that the world is an uncaring place, an excuse for another go at hostility.

This thing is very real. Just because we rarely have suicide cases in Africa for bullying as in Western world doesn’t mean people are not victims. Be careful how you treat people. You may have forgotten something you did to someone which you may as well be taking so lightly or silly but someone out there is so bitter with you and forgiving you is not in their dictionary. As for you my dear who has or is a victim, learn to stand up for yourself, and this message comes back to me for I am in my healing stage; trying to calm down all these demons that have been long hidden. Seek help, talk to people you trust and not just anyone or ‘friend’, write do whatever makes you at ease. This is in the long run your journey and no one else’s. This is your shoe that no one has worn so own it by standing up for your rights, your thoughts and your happiness! And share this, share as much as you can. Let others know it is okay, that you are in a journey, that you are growing, that you are healing. Let others know it is okay to seek help and talk of it. And by help I mean going for therapy to a counselor, psychologist or psychiatrist. Don’t let them swallow pills. Be there for victims and most importantly be understanding. I am going to be forever grateful for all those who stood by me when I was too weak to stand up; my family and close friends. Those who forever encourage my healing. Do the same to someone else please. Make a difference today in someone’s life.

References: www.psychologytoday.com
Bullyonline.org

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