Monthly Archives: February 2019

FROM ONE SCARRED HAND TO THE OTHER:the sketches cry out.

So here I stand and try to run,to run away from all my hurt and broken heart,I try to run but she my heart she holds me back and tells me boy you ain’t no athlete,remember the days back in lower school,you tried to run but fell and panted?

So my knees they weak and I look out to friends,I count and number but getting to five is a hustle.These stay to my right and I look towards the left but O you guys were all acquaintances?No worries though with time you’ll grow but just for the meantime I hope my friends will help.

So I turn to them and share my pain and listen they do and speak up they begin.So keen and quiet unlike my early days am intent on advice and don’t relent.But then in pose I find myself,my eyes all dim and void of strength,my knees no more can hold my weight.I slump within for even they cannot,cannot get to the depths and pain I feel.

But then inside I find myself,just as have grown accustomed to.I find my heart in union and companion with another within who listens and does;He comes alive and tells me son,I have been here but you are too distracted,distracted to see that am with you.

But Sir,you’ve been here and couldn’t feel my pain,as it burned within din’t it even scotch you alittle?He holds up His right hand and tells me to be calm,to sit at His feet and to listen to Him speak.

Yes son I have been here and I know how it feels,through your pain and your sorrows I have understood every tirade and path you have had to take.You see son I also had a son that at one point out of love I knew I couldn’t keep.With my son at my right hand were these people who got lost and only He could go and find them and bring them back to me.

A debate arose in heaven because He was the most precious thing.If he was lost then the whole wealth of my realm could have run bankrupt.But my heart was set and I knew that I loved and in process I had to give.So I gave not my wife for I had non but gave my only begotten son whom I loved with all my might.I remember the pain and joy as I watched him descend from hence and down into that poor little girl’s belly.He had to be born poor and in a manger.

I watched him grow and wax beautiful but soon these people could not stand His beauty,they hated his truth and feared his love.It was too genuine they could not attain unto it.He was too kind he made their business difficult,he was too humble he made their robbery impossible and he was too fair they could not trample upon the poor in peace.

So you know what they did son?They saw His beauty worthless and that of a robber who used violence more precious than His.So they bought the robber off with the price of His stripes,the price of His lashes,the price of every blow he received.And when that high priest asked if that was enough they said no,crucify him,crucify him,he is not our king,crucify him.And at the strike of three the deal was done.The guy washed his hands for the blame was too much and he could not deal with it.

At this very point,a friend of his who understood him not and had sold him for thirty pieces realised his fault and the pain burned deep within.So in the garden of blood he din’t love his life no more for he had missed a chance at true love.He couldn’t stand to face another day and hence ended it by himself.

Even his closest student could not defend him after swearing vehemently,and at the crow of the Roost,three denials had sealed the deal.

Am sorry son but it din’t end there but tell me how much it pained me for with every betrayal of his I was betrayed,with every denial I was denied,through that night he was mocked I was mocked and in every lash the next day I was lashed.Tell me son how it felt that each blow my own son received I got the same blow and every stripe upon his back so was the same chastisement upon me.

All because I loved.So upon the tree they laid him and as he stretched one scared arm to the other,he said it was finished and he gave up his Spirit to me.And when he said it was finished,an earthquake rent the earth and the curtain of the tent tore into you so that you could come through to me for by his stripes you were thus healed.

And it is not ended there for since that moment I got me a bottle and collect every tear that you shed,every dirty mucus running down your nose I collect it in my bottle.And your tears when you cry they burn my hands and non can fall away for I have engraved you on the palm of my hands.

So son no,I have never forgotten nor forsaken you but am right here with you .To hold and console you,to teach you patience and trust and to let you learn humility right at my feet.For yes the heavens and everything therein are my throne but earth where I placed you is my foot stool.So come son sit at my feet and I will wipe away all your tears,I will comfort you and I will give the ends of the earth for your inheritance.

So son.Just as he stretched one scared arm from the east to the other on the west,I pain and hear all your cries and sorrows.I am your Father and you are my son.Come to me son.

ONE SCARRED HAND TO THE OTHER.

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SOCIAL INTERACTIONS:Sketches of distorted love.

Three,three youngsters seated round a coffee table,eating away their cheese burger,pancake and on a third plate a mountain of homefries.Each has a straw to the glass and lips tightly wrapped around the tips.

I always thought or had this perfect picture of what a coffee house entailed:a perfect crew of old friends who came to meet up,get lost in their joys and tales so much so that they only did little insecure sips on their mugs so as not to be kicked out by management.But this here is different.

One thing I can’t miss is that each young turk is holding a somewhat expensive smartphone.They must be from the elites of this town.One has the latest Samsung edge watching videos on youtube.The other,a lady,is on instagram and the dude to the left is scrolling through whatsapp,the interface/ layout on his iphone looks quite interesting,kind of complex I must admit.But suave still.

To my right walked in three adult afro-semitic males,quite jovial as they sit down and hurriedly make their orders,in a buzz almost.Ssshhhh,there is silence as I go back to my current read.Did they just order take-out?Anyway,I concentrate on this read almost full-heartedly.

THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE HER” by Junot Diaz.I stole it from someone’a status on facebook I guess as the title sounded like those 10 simple rules of keeping your love.It is interesting actually for someone who doesn’t delve much into novels being drawn to this.A thirst for true love I could call it.

This portion he is describing Magdalene as a bergenline original quite captivates me;short,with a big mouth and big hips and dark curly hair you could lose your hand in it.Forgive me as big mouths had been my fetish for quite sometime,at least when I still had fetishes.

So am basically drawn into this read and for a moment I quite lose my current surrounding.Hoping the writer of THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE HER doesn’t actually lose his love(but the nigga played her so why should he still have her anyway?)I return to and lift my head up straying to the right of the restaurant.

These phones meeen!!These are gadgets,super gadgets of total distraction and utter loss of social interactions(reminds me of my friend Dave who always reminds me everytime he is asking I pass him his phone,please handle it with care,it is the latest iphone X gotten for me by my loving wife,okay?)A joke I always find hillarious as I decline to handle the expensive gadget(phone).

PePa if you hadn’t realised,the kind of interaction you and I have is pure bliss,total untold communication and absolute,intellectual and mutual understanding okay?My afro-semitic immediate neighbours though,what can we call that?

My reader,I need you to help me understand what we call three male adults,sitting round a coffee table,eating expensive meals each holding a gadget of distraction on their left hands.They keep tapping onto the screens and flicking up and down with their indexes.Non is talking to the other and all seem quite comfortable in their own space.Am confused!

Once in a while one will look up,tap their neighbour’ shoulder and point something on their screens.This receives a nod of approval and they return to tapping and flicking.I look to my left at the lil champs in resignation and the tale has no tail either.Here though,there is an addition of ear-plugs,only difference between the older persons and this younger generation.Quite an advancement in growth I must admit,ear-plugs.

So for a moment I have to go back to my reading,to check if my dear narrator lost his love after finding warmth in another or if his lady thought she could out-beat the stolen warmth and stayed on.

For a moment here,I actually miss the sketches of diversity I previously found and art pesto.That buzzed up coffee shop I once told you about with all walks of life.I can’t help recalling a famous song as I feel lost in my space and time.

I miss the life,I miss the colours of the world,can anyone tell me where I am.Cuz now again I find myself so far down,away from the sun that shines into the darkest place am so far down,away from the sun again….

I mean,when did we lose beauty of actual social interactions and get so drawn into our own worlds of virtuality?That an actual simple conversation can’t hold without regular if not constant cell phone interruptions?or the frenzy of videocalls,facetime,or Instagram madness.In some,facebook updates or Twitter tweeps?

Where is the love and joy of friendships if we lose actual human heys,how are you’s and,don’t you look good Today?Oooh I love that match of your pants and rugged denim shirt man.Girl never seen your hair down,ever thought of cutting it?Bro when are we going down the countryside for a drive or to eat sugarcane by the riverside?

Where is the love if instead we get lost in facebook clicks and memes and Instagram likes and YouTube views?In process forgetting the tender touch of comfort and actual eye gestures of affirmations?

What happened to true genuine friendships?

Oooh the lady on THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE HER din’t go but stayed and she is all but giving the guy a headache.I think she is looking for honest and beautiful interactions.

PEPA.

THE SKETCHES THROUGH JANUARY:remember such days?

The sun burns high and the scorch there-from sure relentless.It is the 16th of a hot January afternoon.The clouds hang loose,not sure whether to drift away with the blowing wind or to hold together and make a formidable force.

Am leaning on the rails overhanging this busy bus terminus,I stare into my phone hoping for a call from her,wait for a moment and no call.My mind hence takes a drift into the hot air around and across the intersection of this road that heads to Mama Ngina street,right past City Walk shoe shop.

City walk,an amazing shop it is just for the mentions.Always lures me into it even when my pockets are proving quite deep,thank God I grew out of impulse purchases for then I wouldn’t have been able to afford this pack of orbit gums now nestling my pocket.

Pack of orbit gums?I have a pack of orbit gums my friends,come one come all and see this miracle.It is a miracle as I had stopped chewing gum over 8 years back,you know those habits teacher used to spank us for doing back in Primary school?Yes,I grew out of bad habits now that am all grown,hahahah my mother should hear me say am all grown,now that in her mind am still her little baby.If only she knew the things I have done these past few years,dammmn!(now these are the portions the editor should edit out just in case this piece lands on my mum’s lap cuz I will have to go into details of what I have done and how good a son I have been,or bad maybe?)am honestly not ready with an explanation to the same effect now that I have literally grown wary and out of lies.

Did I mention the sun was scorching hard on my now balding head,that is how I spot the chemist over my back and keeping in mind my friend loves gums I am led into it(as I escape the lowering sun heat) to get her this pack.It looks quite appealing,valentine’s should be here right now so we get done with the gifting part.

PePa did you hear gifting?I love how it rolls off my tongue as I sync it out.Quite sexy I must admit I have to re-say it again.This time with oomph!

So still on that,so we are two people who are crazy about each other(keep in mind this is an open thought)right?What controls when,how and why I should give and for what reason I should give.I mean when they said every action must have a reaction,not that am disputing but I find myself in protest,arms outstretched.When they said that did it have to stop us from just living each moment as it came and not putting so much pressure on a single day?I mean these are the same things that cause the troubles upon a struggling boy-child huh?

But he has to match up and with all the looming frenzy of valentines’ day giftings he must sure than not have to put in a little more effort you know?I mean if he doesn’t,another might just outsmart him at this very simple game,simple?And forgive me for saying game cuz this is a sure determinant of whether he will win the prize or not.Hahahah valentines’,you will be the death of us.

Now what if he meets a woman who doesn’t need gifts?Wants quality time and a mind to relate with?Boy you gotta up your game,I don’t know if you gotta be a stalker but whatever pays must be put into play right now,huh?

Well,away with the gifts and all,the city is abuzz not with lots of business but with constant bus honks and traffic screeches,tout shouts and the bangs of their hands on the bus sides,”Beba beba,” a favourite of mine though has always been,”Wanyeseti,wanyeseti,fifty fifty,wanyeseti,” First few times I heard that it never really hit me that they meant a place called Wanye and another Satellite,I always wanted to know where Wanyeseti was.

Zzz zzz zzz,my phone vibrates in my pockets and soon my distractions are ended as I pick up and there on the other side are those round gorgeous eyes,the ones that always distract me to the itching of my fingers and rise in perspiration…

I look to my left then right,then left again before I cross the road.All but excited.The frenzy of the hot Nairobi craze all but fades off my mind at this point as it is frozen to this very pleasant encounter.

I miss those days I used to wait for a girl at Kenya Cinema before we went for a chips and chicken lunch-date at Wimpys along Tom Mboya street(they have lately turned it into a Boom Twarf,twarf twarf kudoom twarf kinda place:they sell sound systems that is)across though is a loud ,”Viatu na bei,dada na kaka itabidi ung’are,viatu na bei,viatu na bei” you know those booming shoe stalls with loud adverts?Well,this would be followed with laughs and then a movie at 20th Century,James Bond,remember?Then after we had to rush home before dusk so as not to raise issues with mama.

All these memories kill me with nostalgia and this moment almost feels like so.

Bye bye January,with you always comes amazing memories.Enter the month of love.

PEPA.

NOISES THROUGH THE DAY:the sketches of friendship pt2

It’s calm,almost pin-drop quiet.And then a sudden buzz and rush of cars,they buzz through my ears with an irritation of noise.I come to and the restaurant all around me is alive,something I hadn’t noticed.

This is not what I need,these two guys yapping about no constructive thing in this there loud conversation,a disturbance that helps nothing in my state.But this is a restaurant right,at times no peace can come from this,especially not on a Sunday.Maybe I should have tried a Monday,Tuesday maybe?How about Wednesday or Thursday?Well,a Friday could have been worse I bet.

Still it is a restaurant,no actual place of peace or solace.My house would have been a better haven I guess?The cold however that breeds in it over time grows in leaps and bounds with each passing day.Maybe I should have gotten a smaller apartment the moment she moved out,right?I guess a two-bedroomed place made no sense right now for a single,lonely person huh?

I mean,we may not have been the best of a couple but right now you realise that even that cold presence really counted,just because the name presence helps complete the statement.Something I have grown to appreciate,presence.

But that was ages back,right?So why this emptiness that so crowds the heart.An emptiness that no amount of company can help kill?So have I tried to run away from my own-self?I must admit at times I really work so damn hard at it,do I succeed though?No,I terribly fail if I may be honest.

In contemplation,I thus realise that the truth lies not in the past but rather in the very present.In Today,in this very present that came not by coincidence but as a gift,the gift that now threatens to shutter into little ugly cracked glass pieces,how I hate cracked glass let alone pieces,maaaan!

Art pesto has always been a favourite joint of mine.Today though I must admit that this joint threatens to break this love relationship we’ve so dearly had for a long time.The little girls heckling in untold excitement don’t do much to help this feeling.

I actually wonder how their parents let them out of the house so early on a Sunday afternoon.Did they even finish washing the dishes,or their week’s clothes for that matter?How about scrubbing the house sparkling clean?

Hahah,how can you even question these millenials?Do they even know how that is done in this era of househelps and children’s rights?

Am lucky they kind of felt my energy which is not at all appealing,not Today.They thus leave to my pleasure and peace to my ears.I sip on my drink once more as the pastry scent combines with the confectionary to hit my nostrils with distaste.If I was a woman at this point I would actually consider carrying out a pregnancy test as the emotions raging within me are up and out the ceiling.

If I had asked for advice right now am sure I would have gotten a thousand if not a milli answers and suggestions,a thread of comments and memes to quip.Some I would relate to and others would even hurt,some of course pretty hilarious,a side rhetorical and others almost accurate but truth be told,non would really help.

Haha,this actually makes me laugh as I realise that as humans,we look for answers everywhere when it is right here with us all this time.Listening to other’s opinions usually drains the pain and consternation away you know?

A trivial thought cascades my mind at this point as PePa is all but keen to follow through with no evidence of a flint of light at the tunnel’s exit.

In a world and society where a man is supposed to remain macho and strong through the peril,what does he do when push comes to shove?Man up huh?Be strong and not break down?Not share his ultimate most innate fears?

What about a woman,a lady,a little girl or boy?

Easy PePa,it is just a cascade of thoughts that sometimes eat me up,nothing to stress about.But what if this person needed actual help,would we watch them go down the drain and say that for a man,an african man for that matter he has to and must be strong enough not to express his fears and emotions?

What about a woman,a lady,a little boy or that girl who just saw there first cycle down in the village?

What if PePa,just what if?Would someone listen?

PEPA.

THE TRAILS THAT TREAD THE HEART;Sketches of love.

You constantly trail my thoughts.Sometimes I am strong but with time I realise strength only lies in truth.

So for these moments I let the truth take control.The truth that am a prisoner to my mind.But even prisoners choose whether to leave or stay.I did not choose to stay,but every time I want to leave,this song plays in my mind,this song that I haven’t heard in ages yet it behaves like it knows me more than I understand my own being.

It is a stupid hip hop rhyme by Tyrese and Chingy.And I wonder how comes I even know the song now that hip hop has never had my wing.

everytime I trynna leave something keeps
pulling me back,me back,telling me I need
you in my life…×2
everytime I trynna go something keeps
telling me that,me that,everything will be
alright
It was meant to be,we were meant to
meet,so that means we gotta make it work.

Silly rhymes indeed but sometimes even these silly rhymes do make sense you know?

So for a moment am transfixed and keep you out my mind for maaan,how you wanna live in there and pay no rent?

But still I know there is no where am heading if you ain’t right here clasped in my hand,your little beautifully manicured fingernails caressing the inside of my palm.

So out I stretch my hands that you may fit your fingers into mine.I know the trail ahead may not be all rosy and green as we walk but am sure that the joy we both share and give each other will be worth going through every obstacle that comes our way.

PePa

THE SKETCHES WITHIN:The glint speaks out.

You see this pen and paper has so often recently become the scare of me.For some reason every spit of ink through this nib onto these perfect sketches,the sketches that form the lines of our tales,every single spit of ink has drawn me much closer to you.Much more than I ever imagined possible.

Every scribble so uncalculated but the flow of which so exhilarating.I am writing but every jot rolls me back to us standing by the tent-side.Feet full of durst from the dance of grace.I am actually skipping the bit my eyes came glued into your’s in that first glance encounter.For that would flood back unending tales and memories.

I try to evade it but then I recall that cell phone ring that came through while we was in the middle of a beautiful sunset conversation.I excused myself to receive the call,citing it was important as I flipped the caller ID towards your eyes to see(I never wanted any misunderstanding then and wouldn’t want any now).

I joked about it saying I had met her at a chips and chicken joint seeing the name was saved as chips.You casually allowed me to pick up the call with a smug smile(not that you had anything to lose I suppose,huh?)

I remember the look you had in your eyes weeks later when you asked about her.I must admit the tincture of jealousy in your voice had a real number on me.I loved it then and it still do right now.

Going back to the sunset conversation,you came out strange,not scary but innately you drew me to you with curiosity.First person I had ever met in my circle(sorry,you got into my circle the moment you lit up my world with those gorgeous eyes,and that is a world record as it takes ages to crack through my wall.)who din’t feel zero for sunsets,sunrises,the full moon and heavy constellations in the dark skies.

So on I listened to you and the more I did,the more your voice,which you really love(a strange or actually real woman this is)captivated me even more.I mean for the life of me I have never found anything that captivated me about my own voice you know?But,right here is this incredibly gorgeous woman(you would only understand what am talking about if you got to see her,goodness!)with a husky,nearly cracky voice and O God doesn’t she delicious all my senses ?She loved her own voice.

I must admit that captivated not only my ears and eyes but also my entire sensory system.Forgive my use of eyes cuz it was also drawn and drowned.

Now time is running by and soon our unseen sunset is chasing down the walls of the far horizon into sleep.Am not at all impressed at the speed of time,not that slow pace enthuses me but not today,not this cool-breezed evening,not with this angel of a woman gracing my presence…nooo atleast not today.

Did you ever realise though that time rushes by,nope even rally paces by when you are having the best moments in life and the reverse is of course true?

So the darkness sets in,still this edge of the tent with these plastic seats feels so comfortable.The singing mosquitoes all around us are nothing but sweet cheerleading music to our ears.

You are almost leaving and my heart sinks….

This is why I fear writing.Thing is,when writing draws me to you,I know the sun will set and with it my sorrow comes for you will want to leave;still I don’t know if or when you will be back again.But when I think of you I will write again….for the glint has to speak out as he awaits for your return.

PEPA.

LISTEN:Sketches untold

Sometimes,yes sometimes I see,not because my eyes yearn to see or behold but because my whole being can’t escape from all the vision

All because however much I ignore it,all obscenities glare at me to behold.So with time I learn that I don’t have to be shown to understand,for it only takes a synchrony with my utter being to be one with the universe.

Sometimes I hear,yes I hear things not spoken,not even inuended in low tones or voices but all so clear from the screams in my mind.
Sometimes I tell myself to let go of the voices in the shadows of my mind but they stay on.Not because they want to but my being refuses to listen.

So for a moment I allow myself,I allow myself to listen and O how it dawns on me.It all comes to being that my ignorance could not stop the truth.That all I felt and heard,that all those forces that screamed and glared beneath had a n aim for same.

That the very things I looked over were the ones speaking to me.That the sub-conscience I tried so much to push behind the drapes needed not stay there but spoke of nothing less of truth.

So now I listen and take heed to every detail,for the pain lies not in them but in my ignorance of them.Now I listen keenly,I don’t let them swoosh past but I look right at them and with time they take form and play just as they had in mind.

Listen to it,listen to you.

CLASSICS:the sketches of love.

I ain’t never gonna dance again,guilty feet I’ve got no rhythm,though it is easy to pretend,I know you’re not a fool.

A famous track by George Michael plays in the background.Not sure if it is a physical background or it lies back in the memories of my mind’s playlist,somewhere deep-set in the shadows.

Such mellow music in my ears and heart.The kind that an acquaintance would ask if that was my handwriting on my wall or if someone had hacked into my account.Makes me laugh deeply and ask,’So what kind of music should I be listening to?’They say I look macho and the aura I ooze is of a stone heart,stone heart?O buddy,you make me lose myself in unrelished laughter.

Am sure they would come up with something like hip hop,or common-day genge,or maybe R&B?I swear my block list on music just came on,goodness,what kind of music even plays lately?

For a moment there I almost hated age for taking its toll on me.But hey,I can’t be too hard on myself you know?I have learnt to sit at the foot of numbers of days and age and from thence dew my head with wisdom upon same.

Currently then,in my skin that is,this music am now listening to seems far fetched as another classic after yet the next follows on.

Still,they play to my current mood as this one now on,called Cherish by Kool and the gang plays;quite a sing-along it is.I could blame it on my immediate surrounding and the false ambience of love in the air it brings along.

Speaking of cherishing the love we have and the days we live,quite catchy this is as I find my lips synching to the melody and lyrics with a swing of my stiff neck.Remember the ,”Hu,ha,what is he good for?Absolutely nothing!” From Jackie Chan’s Rush Hour back in the 90’s precisely ’98?That is the head swing and dance am talking about.

So now tell me,what happened to all that cherishing and treasuring the little life brought our way?What made it so easy to pick up love Today and ditch it the next day?

Am for a flick moment tempted not to call it love at all,a thought upon which am sure to get heightened,darkened frowns and a dozen emojis to illustrate disbelief from the millennials.

This emoji habit though,I see it has become a trend even in the older generation.Something I have tried to keep up with but meeeen!That ride doesn’t cut right with me as am left most often than not wondering what certain symbols actually mean.

One though that have been cautious and wary not to even use are fruit symbols(emojis).Reason being,over time I have learnt that they could have quite a varied pool of meaning.So I guess at this moment,old school plays quite a safe landing spot for my sanity,an aspect that justifies my love for classical music and jazz orchestras even the more.

Hey Pepa,not lost my trail yet.We are still on the sketches of love.And back to our earlier question of whatever happened to true love.True love?

The kind where grandpa met grandma and told her,”I like you,you can make a good wife and mother to our children!” Quite simple and well stated.The two went ahead to marry in a month,two or at most three;of course with exchanges of palm-wine or muratina and other niceties over that span of time between their folks.

Now you see why I love classics?They make sense and with them come no complications.King Solomon would play that to his wisdom and say,”God’s blessings are beautiful and with them come no sorrows.”

They actually never played games at it,no dillying and dallying as my West African friends would put it.If they wanted they wanted and a man sure spread his wings,an act to which the lady received by opening her’s and they went ahead to make great families.These are the ones we now call grannies and we rush back to the villages to go visit in pomp and pride,as we run away from our young and complicated loves.Hahahaha…sorry I had to laugh at that image.Literally.

You would call them old but they worked,and now you will understand,yes you will get why,I friend ardent to PePa,loves sitting at the foot of numbers of days and magnitude of age to feed from the dew thereof.

Right here,at the feet of these old guards I come to a realisation.It dawns on me the amount of honesty and truth that flows my way unlike an equal amount of time spent with my peers.

I find myself listening to Mrs.Mahmoud,keep in mind I had been warned she loves talking a lot,something that din’t work much to waver me cuz if you was to meet Mr.John my other sixty something year old buddy,you would wonder what we were discussing so hilariously.

Her calm demeanour at almost sixty is something to envy,humility at its prime.A heart wherewith no gossip or lie knows a home.All those at this moment if sought can only be found along lines of narratives say of talking oak trees and whispering baobabs,the bedtime stories that scared us to sleep.Depending on who the narrator was,that is.

This same effect of truthfulness as I have come to realise is quite rubbing itself upon me.But lies used to be sweet to the tongue you know?hahaha Oh boy,right now I am led not to be so waved away from that thought as the contrary is true.

This,I guess,Is why classics will still rhythm my mind and pump my heart with mellow.In songs that when a man sung,he meant the very words he said.Compare that to Today’s songs of say katika;

Katika,katika, yaani katoto ka ndi,kako ndindindi,kamekazika na ng’i ng’i ng’i,nyuma mbwi,kako mbwi mbwi mbwi,kana misifa sha ngi ngi ngi,nikavizia kitambo,leo kamenasa chambo….

Am now led to have a re-evaluation of my present generation,almost feeling like I came by too late after my time.I mean,can we for once be genuine with love and not give it so many accolades?

Can we stop the construction of castles in the air and lay these soft rocks of truth and trust.Of intention and purpose without chipping in chops of malice?Can we hold that honest gaze without a wink of haughtiness?Like for a moment let us get rid of this trance of perfection and in its place rebuild a hub of acceptance and utter honesty.Can we? The kind of honesty that lingers a smile not upon your lips but lets it live peaceably within the flow of your heart?

So allow me to get back to this present jam of Lady in Red sang by Chris DeBurgh before I become young once again.

Enjoy the next week of love and let’s hope you love without any worries or sorrows.

A famous quote says and many of you may not agree to it,“When you love,you give.”

HAPPY VALENTINE’S FROM PEPA.

PePa.

THE FORMATION OF A MASTERPIECE:-Sketches through the desert.

So you are down and feeling crushed?Like nothing can ever pick you up?Looks like the end of not only your bright days but also the darkening of your once blue sky and end of your well-manicured green world huh?

Am not going to tell you that it is okay,nope it ain’t okay,but it is a step;I don’t honestly know how it feels like being there,because no am not you,it is just PePa and I on our walk and sometimes he treads with me unpleasant murky waters.

Well,you might by now think I got no idea huh?yeah maybe I don’t but on my end or rather from me is no bed of roses story,it is basically a foundation of steel and rocks.The very place you feel you are at is what they call ROCK BOTTOM.

Ever thought that maybe that is the very place that you need to be at right now?Maybe or maybe not,huh?

Well,can you look back even for a moment at the events that have culminated before,leading you to this very spot right now?Am sure you do that often.Now can you fit all the sketches and pieces together?Do they fit?Does the puzzle add up?Don’t you even for a moment feel like you deserve to be where you are at?Din’t you do anything that ended up to this day?Maybe you did,or better still you din’t,huh?

Don’t beat yourself about it.We are here Today,rock bottom is home and no,so uncomfortable it is that even that fleshy behind can’t feel any comfort now.Woe unto you of flat behinds like mine cuz that hurts more,literally.

Well,still down there with your derriere hurting let us take a trail,the very same one that PePa gets wary of when I bring it to mention.

Now that it hurts so much being rock bottom and with you are those thousand quizzes I know.Whom would you rather were in your position besides yourself?Your mother maybe?Your sister,brother or is it dad?No your friend,right?What about that enemy of your’s?Aaah now I see,that colleague at work always pushing you down and wanting to take your six pence huh?

But what happened to praying for good upon our enemies then?Sometimes this confuses even me PePa you know?

So is rock bottom that bad after all?To the one down there it surely seems so.To an observer though in sober mind lies quite a different perspective.Speaking of perspective,Morena and David,my longtime friends would better explain this.

You know at this point all those songs you want to listen to won’t make any major difference huh?

Speaking of songs,am reminded of this song by Mercy Me(EVEN IF) that speaks about rock bottom,you can follow the link to listen to it.(https://youtu.be/B6fA35Ved-Y)

I remember a time I was praying for something so hard and at the end of it all I saw was a desert.”Desert?”you might wonder.Yes,desert.The most unpalatable position to find yourself in.Don’t mind the use of palatable in relation to the desert.All in all though,you wouldn’t want to earnestly pray and trust then your answer you see a desert,would you now?

At that moment I felt so cuz all cuz right before my eyes lay scarcity and barrenness,undeniable hunger(without any call for a fast that is),endless dryness,an apt mixture of cold and heat with no solace in sight.A literal expanse of nothingness rosed by a mirage of hopelessness.

So I go back to myself(nikajiita ka mkutano),a thing I rarely enjoy doing for in it am always alone.

I am thus led to discover about the desert much later on with all its intricate beauty,the perils that lie within it and the extent of survival in it.In the desert as I find out is a diversity of life,adapted to its harshness unlike any other.

The desert I find out,is a boom of strong endurance and biodiversity a normal world can’t even handle,let alone you and me.A combination of vipers and many desert snakes,lizards,insects,shrubs in form of cacti,spiny critters,scorpions along with desert squirrels,fennec foxes,gila monsters,the jerboa,sand cat,the greater roadrunner birds(should be called sandrunner birds as there as no roads in the dunes) and many more.The only creature missing here is discovery,huh?

So the desert is not a place of death and pain as I once thought but a place of discovery and shear strength.(For more about discovery go read my earlier blog post called BREAK THE CHAINS:wonders beyond the eyes.)

I even ask myself how the oasis thrives in the midst of all this heat whilst just a little prick of heat to my skin sets my whole body ablaze.Resilience I guess huh?

For those who believe in bible stories and tales of old,I am led to the children of Israel and right before their great trek is Moses,a man who finds his calling in the desert after running for his life from Pharaoh.Here he stands infront of a burning bush and I believe the rest is history,burning bush huh?

You might not even believe that but another tale is of Elijah who runs to seek refuge(note use of the word refuge)in the desert when Jezebel the then queen of Israel and wife to Ahab the then king is after his life.How do you seek refuge in the desert?

Another tale is that of Jonah which could sound outraged but I din’t come up with or write these stories you know?I found them just like you did.I only chose to believe them.

So Jonah finds himself in the desert as well after his whale encounters and Nineveh drama.A most common story and fresh in mind is that of a man from the land of Uz in the east.A most wise and wealthy guy at his time and in that part of the world.If Job din’t literally walk through the desert then I don’t know who has.

Maybe all these are tales but what about the most recent tale of Jesus?This is quite well supported even through archaeology right?The guy had to go into the desert forty days and nights.

Not to trouble you with the much literature related to deserts.A common denominator though underlies all these tales and narrations.The denominator so common is that all these guys came out of the desert stronger,better and more prosperous than they were before the desert days.

But why are there no women in these tales you may ask,is it that only men can stand the desert heat?

Far from that,women are a masterpiece.Check out the tales of Eve driven out of paradise and into the wilderness and cursed to bear the pain of child labour for 9months,or you think that is a joke?That is a freaking stay in the desert for 9months of pain,heaviness and uncertainty.And after that does she even know how to raise 2 strong boys out in the wilderness with no clinics,child care,let alone nurses and all?

What about Deborah,a judge in an era ruled by men?Peninah whose tears were her meat due to barrenness,Ruth who loses everything but still is the ancestor of Jesus the famed son of God.What of the woman who had haemorrhage for 12years?Wasn’t that a desert not to be treked?Still I hear she came out better and healed.

Let us not forget about Sarah the mother of nations who gives birth at 90,Agatha the matyr(google her story you will be amazed) and many more.

Well,back to rock bottom;when I think about it,it ain’t that bad,it is a place of actual discovery.

Pick up the heavy rocks for an amazing strong foundation in combination with the bars of steel that are instead meant to choke life out of you.Combine these to make an architectural foundation that is a better you.

Standing on the now base of rock and steel,pick up the piercing rocks and with them make a decoration of your new found world and home.With these make your circumstance your masterpiece.

Do not be a victim of your circumstance but rather make it the masterpiece of your survival.

Finally watch the movie NIGHT SCHOOL by Kevin Hart and have an amazing you Today.

PePa.