The Musings Of An African Writer
I blog to leave footprints in the sand. It’s rather ironic considering how quickly they disappear in the ebb and flow of the sea. Still, a fool’s errand as it may be, I do it with pride.
My reason for blogging lies in part on a love of the sea. The smell and look of it is glorious. Although I’ve never been much for swimming in it. Too much dirt and perpetuated fear of giant octopuses.
Continue reading “Footprints In The Sand”As far as positive emotions go, inspiration hits me the most. Granted, it doesn’t bite as often as I’d like, neither does it last long enough to count. Nevertheless, inspiration feels quite good when it lands.
I used to depend on it a lot as a young writer. As a storyteller, I’ve had to learn to forge it in the land of procrastination and responsibilities. It’s very easy to be inspired when things are going well. It’s a lot harder when shit hits the fan.
Continue reading “Tools of the Muse”“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”
Matthew 7:3-5 NIV
A mirror is, to me, the most important thing to carry with you all the time. To see one’s own true reflection is to know one’s current true state. To know one’s true state is to avert any and all forms of public embarrassment as well as an affront to your own individual standards.
Continue reading “The Mirror”As the deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. – Psalm 43:1
I begin today with scripture because it is necessary, at least from my point of view. Allow me to expound.
Continue reading “Exhausting State of Affairs”I am in the business of creating. This is not only limited to my art or writing. It extends to everything else that I do.
You could even go so far as to say that my life in totality is creativity. I’ll explain what I mean.
When I sleep, I dream about stories. Sometimes it’s deliberate because it’s all that’s on my mind. Other times it’s very much a construct of my psyche.
Continue reading “The Business of Creating”The general call for restraint and obedience bothers me and I’ll tell you why.
I am very well behaved. Have been for the majority of my life. This of course stems from seeing how misbehaviour was dealt with.
Swiftly and unequivocally with increasing force.
Continue reading “Be Very Ill Mannered”A lot of things deteriorate with time. Health for one. There’s also the aspect of faded beauty. Though I suppose one thing in particular gets better, relatively so and that is our ability to accept.
Allow me to explain.
With everything that is too hard to swallow, there’s always acceptance at the very core. Grief, sickness and change in general have this in common. Even though the truth is hard to accept at first, eventually, the mind concedes to it.
This concession is what I believe is refined with age. Ultimately, denial will always linger, even to the very end. We as human beings are inclined to some measure of control. Perhaps it is our recessive godlike quality.
Because of this, we remain rooted to our expectations. We fight to actualise them up until reality snuffs us out. We were born to see perfection personified and we will have it by any means necessary.
That said, our idealism and reality are constantly at opposition. Like twins born to sit the same throne, they fight for dominance. Acceptance is the only exception to their bloody conquest.
I’ve had to accept a lot of things I previously resisted. The loss of my hair stands paramount among them. It wasn’t an option. I had no choice but to accept it.
Perhaps that is why, as a concept, it outlives us. Whether or not we wish to, we must all accept in the end. Resistance is futile because we will be subdued to this reality eventually.
No one can triumph over acceptance.
That said, it is only when we recognise the benefit of acceptance in freeing us from futility that we can begin to tap into its power.
For in the end, que sera sera.
If you were to tell me ten years ago that my bed time would go up from past midnight to 9, I’d have laughed in your face. There was way too much of nothing to do then to even consider it.
Current me however would rather review and revisit any agenda in broad daylight after coffee.
I respect sleep now. In fact, I venerate it. If I could go back and rectify the instances where I dismissed nap time as nonsensical gibberish, I would. It was all the foolishness of youth.
Maturity has dawned with a strict schedule. Down by 9 pm and up by 5 am. There are exceptions of course. Insomnia, doom scrolling et al, but for the most part I remain faithful to it.
And I have to say, 8 hours of sleep is divine bliss.
The younger me would be absolutely flabbergasted but I can live with it. I have a newfound love now and I’m content. Sleep gets me. Sleep makes me very happy.
Sleep is bae.
As a creature of habit, comfort is perhaps my greatest achievement. Over time I have woven the perfect mechanism for sustaining it. It relies on one fundamental truth.
Until it happens naturally, I haven’t done it long enough.
Allow me to expound. At the very core, I’m spontaneous. The thrill of no plan and endless possibilities excites new. However, I am also petrified by the unknown.
Which as you can imagine creates quite the conundrum.
On the one hand, I want to pursue new challenges for the thrill of the chase. On the other hand, the discomfort of exiting my current comfort zone is immense.
So how do I find the middle ground? The easy answer is habit.
I say this because in theory the stance is sound. If you practice something for long enough, it becomes easier to do it minus the initial push and pull. However, you must also put up with the obvious resistance to change.
Over time I’ve noted that I will never enjoy an alternative to my processes. I love maintaining control. It eases my anxiety. However, by introducing discomfort slowly over a long period of time, amidst the routine, I am able to trick myself into progress.
I especially ensure that I bombard myself with the things I enjoy and have been doing for a while, and sprinkle in adjustments a bit at a time.
It’s not the same as plunging in with no plan. But I’ve found that with the plans and routine, I can still do the fun exciting things within the confines of comfort and without sacrificing progress.
In light of recent occurrences in Kenya, I’m particularly excited about impending change. This is because what started as a murmur, gradually grew into a clarion call for transformation.
Now as gullible as I may be, steeped deep into the blindfolded bliss of fiction, I am conscious enough to acknowledge truth. Change does not happen instantaneously.
The Kenyan youth have risen up to call out a tyrannical regime. Of course we cannot blame the current leadership for all the ills that we face. Nor can we strip ourselves of blame as we are the ones who elected them. It is simply unfortunate, in light of enlightenment, that they must bear the brunt and blows of revolution.
As a nation, we stand now at the cusp of something beautiful. In exchange for memes and mindless entertainment, we have as a taken up civic education and propagation for reform.
The electorate, tired of living below minimum wage in deplorable conditions of unemployment, over-taxation and bullying by the office bearers, have championed for an immediate effect of their long held demands.
I stand awed at the collective defiance of the unnecessary largesse flaunted by the elected. The sovereign people instead demand servant leadership, accountability of the arms of government and a fulfillment of any and all false promises.
So yes, I am very excited about the future. To see the youth champion for change, backed by the aged and aging warms my heart.
To see us educating ourselves and pushing for restraint and social responsibility is remarkable. And to do all of this in the face of threats, abductions, police brutality and extrajudicial killings is profound.
I am excited to wake up to a Kenya where leaders are held accountable for their actions and the electorate recognizes it’s core mandate to exercise its constitutional rights.
That future seemed farfetched a month ago. Now, I feel even the air is wrought with hope. So I smile and take up arms alongside my fellow countrymen. We march towards our tomorrow. We go forward to create the Kenya we deserve. The Kenya we have been robbed of for so many years.
We march forward towards change.
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Header image by Hassan Kibwana.
