MY TELEVISION SLEEP: sketches of reality.

She lies there dead

Dead yet so awake

Awake as her power is well put behind her sleep

Connected and in position she waits

For that click of power that will jerk her up

Yet for months have I denied her this

The very delight that is her wake

When I brought her in I loved her with a passion

The very first passion you give to a new found love

Or love I thought she was

Till all she offered was a continued repetition

Of other’s perfection or idea of perfection of life

Behind those four corners

She reminded me of how imperfect my life was

As I spent hours upon same in front of her

She continued to define beauty to me

In the “realities” of other’s choreographed lives

So I din’t have to go out there and live,

I could stare into her idea and watch from the sidewalk

As others lived while I aped

While I tried to fit into the perfect idea of her’s

So one morning I decided

That I would go out and be the life

Walk and breath in the air

Feel the wind in my ears and cold in my nostrils

Hear the drop of rain from the heavens

And the same trickle upon my cheeks

And when I did I found me

In the reality of true living

All was so different

From the perfection Tv made coherent

So I came back and switched her off

As the flower beside her reminded me

That life was out there and not in here

Not between the four corners of my TV.


TEARS:sketches of strength pt2

As I sit and relate to the pain within my heart

The pain the world can only look onto and mock

Expecting me to be strong in my wake as I walk

Because they said a man is only strong if he can’t fall

But fall I do,not once but often

As I have found that my strength is not in how firm I stand

But is rooted in the foundations of how many times I can rise up when I slip

It is built in the warmth of my sorrows and my strong desire to do better

Better not through scrupulous means

Means so common place if you don’t then you are lost,or stupid,or naive say even weak.

Better not through the detriment of others

But better because I can rely on my imagination and the strength of the Almighty

Better because I have learnt that I am not strong because I don’t cry

But better because I have learnt

that in my tears I see better and gain strength and vision of tomorrow…..


PEN AND PAPER: Sketches from my past Pt2

To enjoy this post please go back and check out these previous posts


PEN AND PAPER:Sketches from my past


BIRTH OF THE SKETCHES:fireside stories


THE SKETCHES UNFOLD: Fireside stories pt2


Today is not the same as everyday,it’s not an ordinary day.

I honestly feel like all my sketches should begin with this signature statement PePa,what do you think?I believe nothing defines my days better than these simple cracky words huh?

At one moment am lost into oblivion,at other exhilarating ones am hilariously high on my moods.You would think I was just done being stoned(I see society now has it as a norm,something that was once so shunned is now common-play,super play and audiciously okay)

I think stoned is an understatement PePa,it feels like a shot of meth or an adrenaline jab.Am trying to get all the right descriptions at this point so please bear with me.Am ecstatic so I guess ecstasy would play it out even better.Ruddy face,smooth and calm…with a jizz of a smug pretty boy smile(those that hang around like that stubborn toilet flies.

So you are reading through and wondering…mmmh! What could actually be so good about this dull day.Especially for those on this rainy portions of the hemisphere.With heavy clouds hanging pregnantly low and grey skies to quip.It sure looks like an extremely lazy gloomy tom of a day,huh?

Dull it could be as emotions sure vary from one happiness junkie to another gloomy melancholic.Both hold content to their individual perceptions though in retrospect only one has visible tangible growth.

So yes,on a physical aspect,it looks like a slow and even utmost boring day,but,take a moment,even a second in time or speck in space,now throw it a second glance even on impulse and along PePa lines let us hence wade together…Yes,side by side like utmost Romeo and Juliet lovers.

Check out the termites flying out holes in joy,yes I can feel their joy in the swirl and swap of their transparent ribbed wings.

Watch the ants retreating into their ant holes in procession and troupes.Doesn’t their organisation amaze you?How a small person like that can carry such an amazing load?Yet we thought we were strong and more advanced?Mmmmmh think again…

Well,if that would escape your gaze then take a quick one at the birds flying in swarms back into their nests,and up above the trees in songs and swoops of joy,diving in and out as they enjoy the delicacies of life.Can you bear the weaver birds call to each other under the cool of the afternoon,or the sparrows in their colonies running their mating dances?

In the cold of the weather and gloom of your heart did you miss the squirrel running across the road,collecting nuts in its path?Such a sight to behold as they brisk through the branches in the trees and up walls.Tell me,is it common occurrence to see the clouds form a love-heart shape or map of Africa in the skies?

Still I know that nature could be a boring trail especially in this cold and utmost chilly weather.Well,let us check out the streets in beautifully coloured coats,a variety of trendy boots in these busy streets both male and female.

Am actually getting a sense of cold dress styles out of this by now.

Moving on however,this season does but play all manners of nostalgia to my system.Taking me back to my earlier years when I would look forward to the weekends.I know I still do now but those were different and amazing.Especially Saturday mornings after a breakfast of cassava and black tea.

These were my best moments when I would stealthily slip off the spread papyrus mats(jamvi) thinking grandma wasn’t seeing me and run off to the broken tractor trailers,Mercy Ferguson to be precise.Here I would join my clay moulding childhood friends.

It used to be all wet outside and the black clay soil sure did a good note on moulding material.And it is interesting how we knew just the right colour of clay for moulding and the exact spot to harvest it.Each of us would join in pairs or trios,harvest the clay and then a broken tractor trailer would serve as our final platform plant for our ensuing manufacture.

This with all honesty was an ultimate destination for a handy work of moulding.

A good job normally took in the wake of two to three hours of clay play and the results,well at least in my bizarre opinion,were sure amazing.Imagine a full-blown two to three hours of moulding,dissatisfaction amidst out-cries or even outbursts of foul-play.Next followed dismantling of halfway completed moulds and a repeat of the same handy work.

Some very often cases saw another’s mould being better than your own and so to beat them at it you would squash down your own work and restart it again.

Spit and a lot of it was used for smoothing or even as adhesives.It sure brought a shiny gloss to the final result you know?

Someone please take me back.Take me back to those runs after heavy sugarcane trucks to pull one a cane or more…this served as lunch after clay play by noon as folks and elder siblings were not yet back from gardening.

I must admit however that I was quite excited the first time I saw a metallic compact toy car.This came as a gift to Muhindi,my little calm brother.I felt jealous at first,little did I know that this would make the end of my toy making days for him,breaking the beautiful bond of big brother little brother we had built over the moments we spent together on that broken tractor trailer.

The toy making din’t end completely as lil brother was later to dismantle the new glossy metallic toys to see what lay on the insides.This obviously meant the complete disintegration of a once compact machine and death of the same.

Amidst his tears on spoiling his beautiful toys and in torrents for that matter,I would always come up with ingenious ways in the name of salvation.Carton and box toys and in extreme cases wire replica toys or even used cans had to be born to save the day.Truth be told the joy and smiles amid tears was always worth the effort I put in.

So for a moment,let me kill myself with nostalgia as I reminisce those beautiful wet days.

For others it signifies the call or chants to mating like in the wild whilst to some it is a gloomy season say the single hunchies,haha.To me however,it reminds me of all the beauty God has taken me through ….

To be continued.. ..


BEAUTY:Sketches unrivalled!

Cold and breezy

Up the winding tarmac

Of blue and black in sync

So hard to miss the green

And brown of even link

In case you lose the sky

Above in grey so high

Then find your peace within

The soul God placed to win

In sketches held within

An unrivalled even flow

That with grace has to grow

So hard to miss God’s beauty and grace entwined in nature.


Formation of a masterpiece :sketches of trust

Feeling low? Listen to this beautiful song by Danny Gokey


I listened to it several times I felt like my world was tearing apart and it calmed my soul in ways no amount of words could ever do.

It opened my heart to trust God for who He is

To trust Him for His beautiful inexplainable,amazingly perfect will.

Yes the Lord God is making a masterpiece out of you.You only have to trust and bend to His will no matter the twist.

It may never make sense…it doesn’t have to either way but as long as it is the hand of God in it,it is worth the turmoil.


SKETCHES: Sketches of lost words in yesterday

Art is an illusion and can be whatever you want it to be….Sketches are my backbone,both in words and action.

Pencil expresses what pen cannot find in words…..

So here I lay,eyes to the ceiling,

Lost in the day,like winters hay

Do we even have winter?

But I hear my heartbeat grow fainter

As words escape my mind

So my hands don’t lag behind

As fingers come in sync with pencil

To do a sketch without a bushel

And lamp aboard to crack the nutshell

Of sorrows lying behind the bunsen

Burner of light within the dark

Gloomy room of lost treads

So may I find peace where words break in to piece

I mean pieces of lost Yesterdays

As I can only hold onto Today.


WRITE ON MASTER: sketches of gratitude replayed.

“Kudos!Write on master.”

Never heard any better words than these in a while.Last I did was while I was clearing my lower school.

Quite a village hero I was back then.When I walked through the village and all the elder guys patted my head in pride.

These,here could never meet a match more sincere,raw,deep-felt,honest and ultimately insightful than they were.

Write about what though?No one mentioned this when they encouraged me to write on.To be honest though,this lack of a theme or provision of a topic thereof was the beauty of this simple yet inspiring statement followed by their actions.

Origin of this I might point back to my birthday just a few days back.A birthday that brought me joy in the simplest yet most amazing ways.A flow of love whose renaissance was nothing but true appreciation of a passion.A passion not shared by most but nonetheless appreciated in more ways than one.

Going back however,it has been quite a rough patch these months past.

Without any coarsing still,I will admit that I find it difficult doing resolution writes at the beginning of every year.The energy most do this with as you can tell is normally so high-revved for me to even achieve.

On the flipside however,a simple “God take control of everything I plan and do” has always worked for me.The chronicles report that nothing can ever beat or even match working and walking under the will of God you know?

This saying is a true and proven one but with all honesty….these few months past stretching into years have sure challenged this logic ..logic or absolution?Some won’t even look at it as either of these but a notion reserved to only believers in the great I am.

But what is life if you got nothing to believe in?nothing to hope in or even trust in?And don’t even tell me you trust in yourself for how much can you honestly achieve with your own will and blood?these can be snapped out of you in a giffy…I mean just like woop!

let us look back at history,it rarely lies especially with recorded proof.The psalmist in the bible sings and declares,” Others trust in chariots yet some in horses but we,we will trust in the Lord God of hosts. Psalms 20:7 ref.

So yes,I have believed and trusted in the Great I Am’s will and it has been a journey in trials.Bedded with no roses albeit yet founded in unwavering hope and trust.Trust that no matter how treacherous the journey and path therewith,His beautiful and perfect will in my life will ultimately make itself manifest come what may.

I have learnt that I am not the author of my life but the words of His mouth.That He knew what would befall me all along before even placing me in my mother’s womb.Still I don’t have to look back and wish I was born to another mother in a thousand years.Speaking of mothers,it was mother’s day a few days past;would you ever wish the clock was reversed,wound back in time and you was born to another mother?Nay,not me.

Well,here I am,smiling sheepishly,showered in love from friends I never even thought cared.All because God blessed a woman who loved me like her own life and brought me forth.That in the midst of all the pain and struggles,she found it fit to bear me without any complaints or regrets.Not even for a second impulse did she ever think of getting rid of me though she knew all too well she had no resources to raise me through.But she loved me more than the world could.And with the grace of God she managed through the years,though most often with little.Yet her tears always brought more.No strength of a woman here,just the honest true unrivalled love of a mother.Remember the tale of the great king Solomon,the two women and two children,one dead and one alive?Check out 1st KINGS 3:16-28.

So,”write on master” is a compliment and encouragement I have gotten at this moment and in varied portions and gestures through this week.I would want my birthday to come daily but no,it has never been this beautiful,this sincere and so real before.

The first and true beneficiary of this showers so far has been PePa,my ardent companion.A friend called and had this glistening beauty flow in a custom made PePa pen and mug.Another remembered the sketches of life which I sooo so love and did it in a wild sketch-pad and notebook expressly logo-d wild sketches and wild notes.Wild,huh?I will call her the wild girl (girl in my British accent).

As I scribble now,am doing it on this massive Note Book called NOTE BOOK,they found no better name for it I guess.Such a lovely souvenir to lack an astounding name.But good things need no description I guess…or even many words to make them glow,right?Lacking a name,it however came in a beautiful bag with these amazing inscriptions*( THE BEST GIFTS DON’T COME WRAPPED IN PAPER BUT IN LOVE) in addition to a card with an amazing Nehemiah scripture.

“Write on master” was a compliment from a close friend found in GROWTH UNSEEN: The Sketches we miss

It has been a week filled with love and I have learnt one beautiful lesson from it.Whatever you do,do it with the passion of a thousand waters or the strength of a thousand hills.It will touch those of whom it is meant to touch.Yet again,don’t expect it to gain only applause,O how I love sceptics and critics,they are the juice and fuel to my growth.You will grow through it all as long as your focus is on growth and pleasing God through what you do.Thanks to all genuine friends out there.

A beautiful mid to end of week all genuine PePa lovers and the rest of this beautiful world.

PePa-sketches by


HAPPY BIRTHDAY: Sketches of reflection.

Today is not the same as everyday,it’s not an ordinary day.Totally true to these words is this beautiful eve of my birthday.Feels like a happy new year with all the warm music playing in the background after the decent of a beautiful sunset behind golden clouds.

Not to mention these scented flowers that now cover my whole presence with their petal freshness!Sure an evening to behold.

Would have been quite a crown to have it by the beachside with waves rocking back and forth on the sandy white beach,as I lay swinging on the canvas garden hammock lazily from side to side,fingers dipped in wet sand as the ocean birds call out to me in a countdown.

Snapping back to my present however,the beauty is not withheld either so I can save that thought for yet another day.

I see people,especially young ladies on social media with shiny balloons displaying the number of days God has blessed them with on this beautiful planet,mother earth.Caption is normally,”BIRTHDAY LOADING”.

Maybe I should have the same raised up in glamourous colours.I wonder what colour would best display the gratitude I hold inside.Last I checked however,me and most of my likes are colour blind if not so conversant with colour arrays in totality.

To some extent,I think that rainbow I drew back in lower school with seven colours was all a lie as I quite can’t recall most of them well,leave alone put them into play.

And let no smart brains bring up any primary or secondary colour connotations,am not taking any of that today.

Check out for example the colour indigo.Someone tell me the last time you ever used it,let alone see it.I can’t even point at the same if I spotted it right now.

I think most fashion houses or even car manufacturers don’t like the rainbow as well,especially the ones who do the finish touches in colour.But Mr Marangi(colours) of the duracoat advert would come in quite handy at this point.On the other hand however,I must admit that our society is quite creative.Last I was told there is burgundy as a colour.This ain’t nowhere on my beautiful rainbow from lower school,maybe in today’s rainbow it can be found,right?Truth be told,when I see it,in my eyes it is red.Please don’t judge me,yes thank you.

Another amusing one is baby pink.Now since when did babies come up with or even own colours?Anyway,creativity is highly encouraged.So enough with colour plays,am calmly seated,reflecting on all the days of my life gone.

A friend asked me today what my new year’ resolution was,now that it is my birthday the day coming next.Actually and to the least of my expectations I was shocked people make birthday resolutions.It hit me after that they do.You know the,I will go back to my shags(rural home)when am a certain age kinda resolutions?Sorry am being silly.

Remember those goals you always set?Get a car by this age(You even had a savings plan),have a company running and mint millions by a certain age,then after,marry and get several number of babies.

Rarely did anyone ever think past a beautiful wife or tall dark and handsome husband,two or three beautiful babies.And for crying out loud,where do all the ugly babies go or who gives birth to them if not you?Speaking of ugly babies,I realised that non actually exist as the ones I thought were ugly in my earlier years began confusing me the next time I laid eyes on them a span of 10 years later.Quite appealing I must admit,an actual punch below the belt to say the least.If you don’t believe me check these 10year challenge done in January on social media.

Well,am seated here looking back at all the years gone by,goals set,some attained whilst some terribly missed.Some days have sure been quite unkind whilst some O so amazing!But these are the recent years.What of my younger years?These sadly,can only be found in my earlier sketches i.e

So the sketches have unfolded and with them I have been through the most dramatic if not roller coastered life,with a breakup after seven loving years,hahah,loving huh?Another episode of a love-smitten me without consultation from PePa.This last one can best be described by Veronika Bozeman’s hit song,”What is love” that featured in Empire’s Television season one series.Beautiful real song you need to listen to.

Hahah,smitten can be quite intriguing but to some extent this was a period that both showed me God’s grace and how much He can use the right friends to encourage and cheer you on even when they knew you ain’t got no strength to pull through.A true lift from the grips of depression.

Time they said is a healer though and I must admit that despite what they say,it only takes the hand of God Himself to get you through.

Sometimes I feel like I have grown wiser through the push and pull that is life,most times it however eludes me.So here I am,a day left,hours even,to add one more year to my quiver and with not much beautiful heart shivering words to quip.

Thing is,all I am at this moment is nothing but grateful to God for His sufficient grace and favour.I look forward to seeing His good,perfect and most amazingly pleasant will done in my life.

To all those sharing this week,day and even month with me in their birthdays,I wish you the very best and moreso to God’ grace and favour.May we live to give Him the glory everyday.I dedicate this piece to

  1. Joyce Nyaguthii (lil sister) 5th May
  2. Boniface Ogeya(brother from another mother)18th May
  3. Christopher Migwi (brother who wants me to get married before he does) 19th May
  4. Priya aka Zealous Homo sapiens (most talented 6 word poet I know) 31st May and here is her blog link

The Lord God shine His face upon you all.Pepa.