I am Thinking

I am Thinking.
I take the spoon, I want to brush my teeth
Someone is looking at me, I don’t want to feel absent minded. So I use the spoon to scoop some sugar I have dropped it into a basin of water. My cup of tea has no sugar, my bathing water is tasty. I am thinking!

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I am Thinking. I want to comb my hair. I take a brush and throw the comb out through the window. I should have opened the windows. Idon’t want to look odd, I use it to brush my beards instead.

My hair is shaggy, my beards straight. I take the spoon, I want to brush my teeth. Someone is looking at me, I don’t want to feel absent minded. So I use the spoon to scoop some sugar. I have dropped it into a basin of water. My cup of tea has no sugar, my bathing water is tasty, I am thinking!

The gas burns noisily. A sufuria of milk rests on it. The milk threatens to spill out as it boils. My hands are on the gas knob, I look at the milk. Swollen, aggressive, hasn’t it some freedom? The freedom of swelling, bulging out of the sufuria. I am still thinking, soon, my floor is covered by milk. The free milk, sweet freedom. I was thinking, just thinking

There is flower, a beautiful flower, rooted inside a clay of pot; decorated pot. I look at it, weeds are almost eating it up. I want to weed it, uproot the weeds.

One, two, I am thinking. Can’t the weed be left to live alone? Has not a weed a desire, a longing, to be cared for, tendered like the flower?

And, I am thinking, what a lonely flower, a slave of the pot. Only conversant with the soil, just a shovel of soil in a pot. Does it really know how it feels to root itself on the ground? I am thinking

I have left the weed, watered. The flower will have to die, I think because I am thinking. Or just thinking that am thinking.

Do not write a poem after this Oj’bi

The walls have the slander ‘s ears. And her slanderous tongues were left with men.

Do not write a poem after this Oj’bi, I beg,
Oj’bi I beg, do not write a poem after this;
These words I say are only for your ears to sip.
Never trust a person who spells gonorrhea right on the first attempt. Continue reading “Do not write a poem after this Oj’bi”

Splashly imperfect

 ‘There are neither good or bad people. There are imperfect people, with both streaks of good and bad.’

Hello world, been quiet for quite awhile. Let me call it quite quiet because I was still in and not lost. Missed you so much! September ended with us drifted but with October am now am here, all yours. 

Continue reading “Splashly imperfect”

Tell your story, Africa

The world needs our stories, which we are the only ones to tell. I encourage Africa to be brave before this vast multicultural audience.

Most of the time I like it when filling applications online – because they make me feel so great. Not because I enjoy the reviews, or the pressing of the keyboard. It’s the fact that this world always want to know where I come from. 

Ceaselessly, the sites often ask me to fill my nearest town and street while myself I’m at the edge of the earth’s core. Know what I mean? If you ever read articles  of people climbing trees, or hilltops to tap network, then you sure read our story. We recently improved though, for we now have rental tree houses so you can take as long as you want – but you must pay for it. It’s a blooming business, and the scenario from that vantage is breathtaking. It is what I mostly like about it.

So proud of these streets

In this scenario that has repeated itself over and over, I proudly fill Kanyamgotha Street in the slots knowing very well that this in fact is the footpath leading to the late Kanyamgotha’s home – who happen to be my late grandfather! You know, I say, since these people, neither their system know this place, let me put it into the map! That’s why Kanyamgotha gets into the Google Maps and also into the dictionary. Isn’t that proud, that my Kanyamgotha gets into Google Maps? Someday it would be defined and illustrated like Tom Mboya Street and Boulevard Street, I pray.

We’ve named this paths as we’ve always known them, and that’s how we would like the rest of the world to identify them. So if a tourist visiting this region was to ask where he or she was, I think I would have done him/her a favor. I would proudly say, welcome to Kanyamgotha, even try googling it. And I’m sure it would surprise them to fine the online reviews of the cafeterias that are now booming in this area. That’s how I want it to be.

I’m proud of my origin, in Africa. Our heritage is so unique that the whole world can’t help to admire. In fact, I no longer feel insecure at the peculiar questions, stares and questions anymore, leave alone the prejudices and stereotypes. It is stories that define us that they lack. We’ve lots of theirs in books, and movies, why not even us tell ours to them, in the ways we know best, through this technology?

The world needs our stories, which we are the only ones to tell. If only all of us could tale to them our stories as I do. I encourage Africa to be brave before this vast multicultural audience. In their lands, they face almost the same thing as we do, they just don’t know how we cope. The vastness of the world we’ve watched and read, but ours is still muffled in our fear. And day by day it gets tainted when we alienate ourselves to the foreign cultures. We’ll leave no real history if what we live is the lives of others, if what we wear and the names we give to our homes and streets are not our own.

Where is us in us, Africa?

Random  puzzling thoughts

Why is letter W in English called double U, shouldn’t it be called double V?

When I am bored and just puzzling a few things don’t make sense. . . like:

1. If poison expires, is it more poisonous or is it no longer poisonous?

2. Which letter is silent in the word “Scent,” the S or the C?

3. Do twins ever realize that one of them is unplanned?

4. Why is the letter W, in English, called double U? Shouldn’t it be called double V?

5. Maybe oxygen is slowly killing you and It just takes 75-100 years to fully work.

6. Every time you clean something, you just make something else dirty.

7. The word “swims” upside-down is still “swims”.

8. 100 years ago everyone owned a horse and only the rich had cars. Today everyone has cars and only the rich own horses.

9. If you replace “W” with “T” in “What, Where and When”, you get the answer to each of them.

10. If you rip a hole in a net, there are actually fewer holes in it than there were before.

It really bothers me. . .  my friends think I am crazy because I talk to myself about these things. 

Break her legs…

A newly married man must be watched in the morning
For the elders’ eyes are on his wife’s dress
When will it push?
When?
When will you break her leg, Jairo!

Jairo, son of Oloo
A woman is not a harp that you play for other men to dance
Or a dead snake that you scare children with
As you head to the anthill
The sun illuminates her endowments for the world to see
In the broad daylight as she bends to fetch the low-level waters of River Nyando

Continue reading “Break her legs…”