My love’s like a butterfly,

It knows when to fly away.

My love’s like a butterfly,

Oh, baby, it will stay.


Updates on the writing life

Hello Friday! I have been looking forward to this day for two reasons:

  1. I finally get to share the second issue of Nilichoandika magazine.
  2. I can sit back and work on the draft I’ve written this week.

Writing has been a thrill, but what’s been better has been listening to new music albums and reading books. I haven’t stopped listening to three albums:

I have indulged some awesome books this week and from a funeral director, to an Assistant District Attorney, a well renowned Pastor, let’s just say that my week’s bee interesting.

Here’s to a lovely weekend and as I raved on about earlier, grab your free copy of the second issue of the magazine. Nilichoandika


I heard them say,

“You’ll get over this, come this way,”

I let my mind sway.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday,

What day you say?

I heard them say,

“You’ll come out of this stronger.”

I wanted to be bolder,



I wanted it all, but I received none of it.

I knew I’d been swayed,

But I didn’t know how much until she said,

“Show me your scars and I’ll write your story.”

Valentine's Day single red rose flower lover symbol love red rose red roses valentine I told her and she looked into my eyes.

Dried up, she said “Come back and tell me tomorrow.”



I swayed. She stayed.

Dried up, hollow and sore, she said “you heard them say, and you swayed.

Why choose to sway when you can it have your way? Listen to yourself…love,

listen to yourself because when you sway, then it’ll be like a flower in bloom,

like you were born to dance.”


A magazine…a maga-what?

That’s exactly how my friend reacted when I told her that I’d created a magazine.

Well, I am all for trying new things and using different mediums to share stories and insights and when I was scrolling through Canva, I thought why not use their templates and create a six-page magazine.

Grace saw it, read it and she loved it! It’s her job to love everything I do as a friend 🙂 and so, now, hello world…here’s a copy of the Nilichoandika Magazine!

Nilichoandika (2)

Birthday blues and dues

Hey, it’s been a year already and we all agree that 2017 was crazy and it seems like 2018 is the KARMA Menu.

I could probably list a couple of presidents who got what was coming to them served this year, but Kenya tops the list. We’ve got two presidents, a curriculum that’s flopped in the pilot phase, health practitioners on strike, an increased number of unemployed people, depleted forest cover and going on about it makes the bulk of this post.

Well, I’m turning a year older this Thursday! Last year was quite interesting because of all the books I got for my birthday but I’m nursing the blues this week.

I’ve been coughing throughout February and now I’m on medication which means more bed rest and very little time being up and about. I yearn for this cake from Java but the good Doctor told me today “no sugar, or processed sugars and cold drinks until you come back for check-up” . 

I should have told him it’s my birthday on Thursday and I’m too old to get only best wishes and no treats!

So, I put my playlist on shuffle and guess what song came up?

Yep! Trust me the gods of truth were summoned to perch on my shoulder and reign on my sick parade today, but I did hum to the tune as I made my way to the Jubilee market here in Kisumu. I went to get some sukumawiki and eggs for supper because I was drowsy and every time I coughed people seemed to want to run away from me like I was a TB advert. Getting supper at 11:00 a.m. was the best idea I came up with today.

So, I got into the matatu and this guy gets into the seat beside me just as we make a quick stop outside Kisumu Girls. He looks at me and smiles “sasa,” and I respond “poa sana” because at this point my voice is super smokey I feel like hosting a late night talk show on radio.

He asks me what I’m listening to and I say “Daughtry,” and he says “tell me about Daughtry, I’ve never heard of them, or is it a he or she? Just don’t laugh, I’m more local.”

I tell him “We have different tastes in music, so, no worries. Daughtry’s a rock band but it’s actually named after Chris Daughtry, he was a runner’s up in a season of American Idol.”

“Yeah, it’s always cool that those who come in second always hustle and go further than those who get the crown or gold medal. I wonder, like why is that?”

At this point, I’m almost at my stop but it’s also great conversation and besides, this guy has maintained eye contact and he’s not ducked when I coughed, how awesome is that? So, I tell him, I’m at my stop and he says “Sure, you get well soon and I can’t wait to read Sifuna. You know, you should have hard copies here in Kenya so fans like me can brag about knowing you.”

I was too stunned to come up with a response and by posting this, I hope he’s going to stay tuned and reach out to me via facebook because I went through all my friends and followers and couldn’t spot him! So, yeah…”guy who made my sick day, quite okay by not ducking when I coughed or looking at me like I was a dog inside a human, send me a message and I’ll be sure to get you a signed copy of Sifuna.”

I got home and passed out on the couch. I woke up an hour ago and started typing this. I’m a year older and grateful for this life and for a very awesome family that’s had my back since I stopped working last year.

So, here are some of my birthday blues and dues:

  • I’ll be on bed rest dozed up on medication for Pneumonia.
  • Happy International Women’s Day to all the wonderful women and men out there. #GiveLove #PressForProgress
  • Writing Sifuna is on hold until I’m better.
  • I’ve learned that everyone’s got expectations but what’s important is setting my own and living up to them, because seriously…living up to 7 billion plus expectations is a nightmare.
  • There’s something blissful about falling in love and also something necessary about falling out of love.
  • YALI was the beginning. I’m already on Teens Kenya working to reach out to young boys and girls in my county.
  • #WakandaForever am I the only who wishes #Shuri was my younger sister?
  • Staying away from roasted maize and popcorns has been torture during this past month because nothing irritates the larynx like those two!

Here’s to me getting better, stronger, healthier and looking younger as I age. Here’s to your health and life!

#HappyInternationalWomen’s Day in advance y’all. 🙂

Image result for strong woman african
Credit: Pinterest



How to gain perspective on your work

I came across my 2010 journals this morning. I sat down, opened the first journal and read my daily experiences in the month of February 2010 and something caught my attention.


I wrote about my frustration at not being able to read more books because I couldn’t check out all the books I wanted from the school library. I also shared insights on the story I was writing then “Yellow,” and made notes on revisions to make to the final draft.

As I kept reading, I realized that even back then I sought insights and wanted to gain a better perspective of my work. I wanted to be able to step back as a writer and go through my work as a reader to see if it resonated with me.

I’ll admit that editing and draft revision are the things I often struggle with but over the years, I have found that some things do help in gaining this much needed perspective and these are:

  1. Put you work away for some time. Yes, simply set that manuscript aside and give yourself time to be engrossed in other things and then you can come back to it later. This gives you the clarity to focus on your flow of writing. I found new insights when I read through what I’d typed after a week or two, sometimes even a month.
  2. Get better or like Stephen Covey says in The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People- “sharpen your saw.” For years, I would freak about about the potential of getting a writer’s block by stepping away from my work. There’s nothing wrong with improving your mindset or your writing skills. Take time: read another book, listen to music, eat, dance, walk or go out with friends and then come back to your writing refreshed!
  3. When in doubt, ask. A lot of writers would not do this. Let’s be honest with piracy and people who’d steal your ideas, who would want to share a snippet of their story line? Well, if you have a blog- share a snippet (check out how I did it) or if you have beta-readers, send them a sample chapter and get feedback, or bounce off your writing on another writer.

I’ve got these three insights in mind this weekend as I look forward to another week. My writing’s coming along just fine and I am trying not to revise so much that I end up losing the plot. It’s a laid back Saturday morning.

I’m nursing a very bad cough. I’ve had two cups of tea and cannot wait to brew some coffee after I’d had a cold shower.

What are you writing this weekend?

What book are you reading this weekend?

Have a lovely one.


I’m into Hillsong and looking forward to their upcoming release “There Is More.”


The Place You Call Home

Our journey started long before my feet could meet the ground. It must have been past nine o’clock at night when we heard the chants outside your parents’ house. Your Father, Omutete, stood up and approached the door but it was your mother who knew it before they begun.

She pulled me aside and said, “You have to promise me that you will protect our daughter, listen, I know people think you are lazy and a drunk, but she needs a Father and you are the only one I trust. Do not even mention my people, because ever since I came here they have not bothered to visit me or send their best wishes. My own mother has forgotten me, but what would you expect of them given that I married beneath their expectations? Now, listen, I have wrapped some ten thousand shillings in this lesso and packed a few clothes for Maria. You have to go with her and protect her. I will not ask anything of you again, and Juma, you should not come back here. These people will take everything away from you when you can have three meals in a day.”

She placed you in my arms and threw the strap of the bag around my neck and pushed me out of the house through the small back door that led through the cow shed. I stood there for what seemed to be my whole life, thinking of a cold glass of busaa and a few women singing my praise. How could I have told you the truth then? For years, I went back to that night wondering what happened but nothing comes to mind. So, I held onto you and walked away carefully making my way through cow dung and maize fields until I got to the road where I boarded a matatu to Kisumu.

They said that my brother and his family were burned alive and their property destroyed by cattle rustlers, but I know that those were not rustlers. They were Omuchai, my brother’s rival, and his men out to avenge a business deal gone wrong. Weeks later I heard it on the radio that they believed I was also killed in the fire because I had gone to visit my brother that afternoon. Maria, I told you that our journey began long before my feet met the ground, but I was never prepared for the life of bitterness that followed.

Excerpt from:

To read the whole story, download a free copy here