Cathy

Grumpy met a girl.

He says, “she told me to call her Cathy, but she looks more like a Katherine to me, but you know how girls are, they can be a Cathy to me, a Lisa to someone, Nancy to another, Sweetie to many more and when the time’s right a Mrs. to just one man.”

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Atichart Wongubon took this!

 

On Work

Work is love made visible,

and if you cannot work with love but only with distaste;

It is better that you should leave  your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.

For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake bitter bread that feeds but half man’s hunger.

Khalil Gibrain

TMI

Word of the day:

Scripturient (adj.): Having a consuming passion to write

Listening to: Young, Wild & Free by For King & Country

 

 

What’s in my bag and snippets of advice from the market

I had no intention of leaving the house yesterday. I woke up and washed my clothes which in this case happened to be: my blue smurfs pajama pants, two pairs of black stocking, an orange tee-shirt and one floral bedsheet.

I knew the day had more in store for me, but I was stuck in a zone where I kept replaying the lyrics of Despacito…yes, catchy tune and all but there’s that part that goes something like “pasito a pasito suave suavecito,” that kept coming out of my lips like a chant! So, I took some tea, had a bath and changed into my all time fave; a grey tee-shirt and jeans and a pair of red ngomas and headed out to town. I also took my backpack along with some essentials:

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I don’t know why I always carry cello-tape but it’s better than a pair of scissors right?

So, I make my first stop at The Darling store downtown and ask for some short braids. A lady writes down my order on a piece of paper, takes my money and hands it over to the cashier. While I’m standing there, someone taps my knee…I turn to my left and see this lady, she smiles. I smile back.

“Didn’t you see me when you got here?” She asks.

Are you a billboard? I shake my head and reply, ” I am sorry I did not, my mind’s miles away. How are you?”

“I am fine, seems like it took a tap to get your attention.”

“Seems so.” She starts to say something and then the cashier calls out my order and I take the braids off the counter and stuff them into my bag and leave. James is waiting for me outside. He is basking on the motorbike a.k.a Bajaj Boxer…spotting a NASA t-shirt and cap. When he sees me, he takes his position and we head out to the market.

I pay him his due and he takes off as I walk into the market scouting for two things: eggs and sweet bananas. You can never buy just two things at the market because vendors know how to advertise their goods in such a way that they reel you in with their chants and before you know it, you’ve bought two pairs of stockings that you are never going to wear! The first guy is busy shouting “Boyfriend na soo, kau boyfriend kae gi mia, weri gi ati oh lunch, ati oh sweetie, kau boyfriend gi mia, nyathi ma nyako nyakandisre.” (Buy a boyfriend jacket at a hundred shillings, forget the lunch or sweetie , and buy a boyfriend jacket because a girl’s gotta look good)

I look through a few jackets before getting distracted by a lady selling bags right behind him. I switch lanes and check out the bags. I spot a navy blue backpack and ask the lady how much it costs. She looks at me and then lifts up a brown leather handbag and says “How about this one? This is the kind of bag for you, that one has been taken already.”

“Thanks, I just liked the backpack. I could try some other day.”

“No, wait…listen look through this pile of handbags you might find something you like. A lady should always have a handbag you know.”

I took a step back and smiled and walked away. I don’t know what she had to say as I left but the man beside her was loud enough for me to hear, “why do you always have to make someone buy what you want? You should have sold that bag, now she left unhappy and we haven’t made a sale.” Maybe I looked unhappy to them. I have been told that not only do I wear my heart on my sleeve but I wear my expressions on my face. It must have been her conviction that a lady should always have a handbag that made me take a step back. It could also be that she wanted to reserve the navy blue backpack to sell at a higher price because it wasn’t singled out when I spotted it.

As I got back home, I poured myself a cup of tea and joined my sister in watching afrosinema.

T.M.I

Currently reading: Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert

Listening to: 7/27 by Fifth Harmony

Drinking: Coffee (my first cup of the day)

Writing: Ushanga (5 pages down…a whole lot to go!)

August Reads

There is a Malian proverb that goes, “You will never drown where you always take a bath.” 

I am looking forward to reading some awesome books that I bought from Nakumatt’s #BooksFirst yesterday.  I’m dreading their shut down because my life and my bookshelves have been kept ablaze with the books I bought from their store. For August, I am looking at these four titles:

  • Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert
  • The Brazen Bride by Stephanie Laurens
  • Shadow Fever by Karen Marie Moning
  • Alexander (Book Two; The Sands of Ammon) by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

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Filters

Send me a filter,

One that hides a fighter.

I’m thinking Gingham, or Reyes, but not Sierra,

No, definitely not Sierra.

I’m thinking Hefe, or Nashville, but not X-Pro II,

No, too much color that one.

I’m thinking Clarendon, or Lark, but not Juno,

No, Juno reminds me of a pregnant teen.

I’m thinking Slumber, or Crema, or Ludwig,

Listen, how about Amaro, or Perpetua what of Aden?

No, Aden is not as bold as Ludwig neither is it as fancy as Sierra or Reyes.

I’m thinking Hudson, or Mayfair, but not Rise,

No, I’ve used Rise in most of my pictures.

I could use it to get a rise out of my followers,

I bet they’d never notice…1,000 is something right?

The more they are the fewer the likes, the more the stream of photos…I could use Rise.

Wait, you can’t settle for Rise?

Why not? It’s my photo and my Gram.

Yeah,but there’s Moon, Lark, Willow and Inkwell,

Why not give them a try, see how your photo gains a different perspective.

Is it about perspective?

Yes, why do you use filters?

Hello, are you there? Why do you use filters? I asked a question…

Hello?

Send me a filter; one that hides a fighter.

Okay…

Send me a filter, a good filter, one that hides a fighter, a fighter who’s forgotten what she’s fighting for.

Send me a filter, not because I asked for it,but because you feel every ounce of your soul slowly slipping through your version of events.

Send me a filter,

Send me.

Send

End.

Make or break; safeguarding a relationship

It is 8:15pm as I write this. I had tea and a chapati for supper then took a motorbike to Nakumatt where I bought a 250ml strawberry yoghurt. I bet you don’t really need to know that, but I am prone to digress, for it takes a while for a story to develop. 

This will be my last night in Bungoma and I am not looking forward to sleeping early because last night all I heard was the sound of someone snoring like a truck.

I sat up in bed from 1:44am to 3:45am reading Americanah by Chimamanda Adichie. The snoring ceased at 4:20am and by then I could not go back to sleep.

What’s more important in a relationship? 

A lady asked me this particular question at the restaurant where I was having my tea for supper. She’d joined her friend, someone called Milly, yes, she said “Milly with a y sio e!” They were sharing about a friend who seemed to make wrong decisions thinking she was doing the right thing. This friend was struggling to save the trust they’d built with a certain guy and her actions seemed to generate the unexpected results.

They turned to me, “what do you think? Like, don’t you think she should forget him, I mean if you don’t trust each other why stay together?”

“No, but why would you walk away without sorting out your problems, Milly,imagine leaving a guy and constantly wondering why things went wrong, si utarudi kwa ex yako kila time,” added Fannie. They went on for a while as I stuffed my face with chapati hoping for a clear exit because they did not need my opinion.

It is true that when a couple openly express their views and emotions, it fosters an understanding that with time builds on trust. On the other hand I have seen couples who in their need to be open and be true, drift apart. It’s not that they did not love and cherish one another, but in their communication, they managed to push their partner away rather than draw them closer.

When such situations arise, three things could happen and if I could dig into some psych understanding, these are; fight, flight, freeze. Let’s call them the 3 F’s.

The disconnect in how they communicate and express themselves can lead to a fight, or it can make one to opt out of the relationship either emotionally or physically and finally it can stagnate the relationship, where the couple cannot grow psychologically or emotionally and it’s a constant case of ‘it’s complicated.’

Milly and Frannie went on debating on who was right and which action was best so much so that they did not see me make an exit. If they did then they did not mind my absence as much as they minded my presence, but between you and I, the friend they were talking about was Fannie. 

So, Fannie, if you are reading this, I hope I spelled your nickname as it should be. I also hope that you look within to understand your actions, were they initiated as reactions or to support what you wanted? I am no preacher of love. I however love writing and reading romance novels. I am also not a guru, if I were, I’d be having a show on “Love,here’s what I did” on TV. All I know as I type this is that inasmuch as we speak the truth, and strive for openness in any relationship, there’s also the need to safeguard trust in how we pay attention and focus on how we express ourselves and the effect it has on the other person.

A friend was once given the silent treatment for six months because he told his expectant wife “unakula nyingi sana.” She said, her decision had nothing to do with hormones but when he told her that she almost went to the kitchen gorged the baby out of her womb and inserted into his stomach. She felt as though she was the only one who was involved in conception. 

Now that I think about it, I reckon she might have thrown everything at him had her hormones been involved, but hormones or not Fannie, words can slice and sink deeper than claws.