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This voyage has no sojourns and vacations where you lax your muscles then sit
and wait for the sommelier to serve you with your favorite Chave Ermitage while
lolling leisurely in a roller coaster yatch fully equipped with a myriad of
high-end facilities and luxurious amenities that create an intimate, refined
and immaculate one of a kind experience. In it you can explore the most
breathtaking destinations while still feeling at home in the spas and wellness
centres as experts chaperon you on a personal journey of self-discovery. The
pricey figure paid is however out of the reach of a commoner as this comfort is
reserved for the crème de la crème who have the time and money to splash on
what they really fancy and hold dear after the struggle.
The best things in life are free. Money can’t buy them. They oscillate around
us as much as we may never recognize them. Like the smell of clean clothes or
rose flowers, finding love in another being, the writings of this diary, the
sound of rainfall on a mabati roof with no ceiling board inside, a satisfying
siesta, silly stories that you are about to read, an honest opinion about how
you view this piece of nonsensical gibbery and plus the list is endless.
You probably have a family you can count on, that someone to cheer you up when
down, that meal you cooked at home or someone to hear you out when you want to
rant your frustrations in life even when satiated to the bristle when it
regards matters financials.
Being a jobless graduate has its fair sides as much as it has the inoperative
aspects that usually make it fun altogether. Your timetable is ever full. A
friend confided this profound analogy where he intimated how life is for a
hustler.
In the morning you wake up like those on payroll and head to the illusory office
where you have assigned yourself tasks complete with breaks and deadlines. The
deadline is however your own creation and you really struggle to keep up with
it. You pay yourself hefty sums of money since you are the overall boss of the
responsibilities you have assigned yourself. More or less, you are fully
qualified for the job but still it never overwhelms. Since you are the boss,
you take leave any time you want without compromising on the turnover of the
business since you are well versed with the general rates. Probably nil at the
end of the laborious day. When you go to the fictitious ATM, you withdraw sums
that you have never imagined. Obviously the bank manager and the sentries know
you by name, you never queue like the rest of the commoners as the fat bank
deposits you make shifts your status to that of a royal. In the shopping malls,
you choose what you want, dine with high and mighty and laugh like a
jester after a few sips of exotic cognac. When the time to exit the office
arrives, you extend your stay since you sure want to reconcile the bank
accounts, look at the grey areas and ways of ameliorating your franchise to
open more offices as you move into being a big time entrepreneur. People revere
you even though you are quixotic about your general financial status that you
hope will not continue to plunge in the actual sense.
No longer is it fanciful to graduate with some degrees if you are not a
hustler. Very few people are hustlers. For example, my good friend Titus sells
branded cups upon request. He is a graduate from one of the local universities.
He prides in being a very good marketer of his products. His hustle has seen
him change shoes on monthly basis since he walks like he has all of a sudden
become a supporter of Ugandan opposition leader Kizza Besigye. He has duly
christened his venture ‘Walk to work’ though he uses public transport to
deliver the goods. He never complains about it, deeply he curses why he went
through the protracted education system that never aptly prepared him for life
after campus. His applications for jobs have become white elephants as they are
rarely replied to. He wonders what he does wrong. The contractual jobs he gets
never satisfy him much and he ends up reverting to what he knows best, selling branded
mugs and cups and plates to his acquired and dependable customers whom he
sometimes overcharges and they never realize due to the trust he has created. I
told him to market them on Facebook, twitter and Olx.
As a graduate, he has curved out a niche. Lies are peddled by those in the job
markets that there are no jobs. Bulshit. There are so many jobs. Some have been
brainwashed into believing that you must part with hefty sums of money to
secure a position of interest in the best paying multinational. Agencies have
popped up everywhere and you have to part with some few thousands for them to
look for you a job. Ladies are forced to deflower themselves before they can
get jobs in some firms. You talk ill of relatives who fail to give you a job
because you think you will probably overtake them when you get that job. You go
to school then wait for manna from heaven that someone will notice your
impressive CV (The one you never wrote) and employ you. You are lying to
yourself. It’s impressive, colorful and convincing; however it does not depict
who you are. PR tactics you have employed and someone with an eye for details
will notice some inconsistencies that may arise. Don’t be fooled my brother,
they say make hay while the sun shines, like Obama during his first
presidential campaigns, roll those sleeves and work till you get it right. All
right.
I was among those who normally whine and kvetch insidiously about no jobs. Then
I came to realize there is a difference between there being no jobs and not
having money. There are so many jobs that I know of but as a graduate you
cannot just take anything. Friends will advise you so because they know what’s
best for you. Wrong. You may decide to be a cook and end up wasting yourself
cooking for a village school where no one will ever recognize you ever went to
university year in year out. You henceforth know what you want in life, the
only drawback preventing you achieving it is the requisite break-even point that has become elusive. Garbage in garbage out.
If you aren’t careful at all you may be a case in statistic.
While you sit and wait others are forging on ahead faster. They are not waiting
for you as you slacken and slouch on the hard seats you arse is probably on.
You are drooping and may soon become stale and fusty for the ever dynamic job
market. No one will want to engage you having developed radical attitudes and
behaviors that are very hard to mold into the desired contrivance of a person
which will act like the perfect carousel. Yes in employment you are not you.
You let others decide and you follow. That also applies to private practice,
decisions are not binding and conclusive altogether. There is change, and
embracing it without qualms means you move on faster than you would have
anticipated.
As a youth, I want something that is believable and has legitimacy. Trust is
one thing I have realized works best when the institutions in place are
consensual and integrate transparency in the processes without leaving an iota
of expropriation. If systems in place could have been devoid of bias and
prejudice and as such independent and free of external influence by third
parties who reign supreme over the processes in place, then many would not have
been crying foul. When we adopt the policy of may the best man win, integrate
them with prolific ideas then we overcome cowardice and instill competition
which is indispensable in the process of ameliorating our plight to
self-independence, we move up the ladder and develop an unrivalled long leash.
With no job insight, I hence try to live life to the fullest and as if it is
the last. Even though I try to live by the fact that yesterday is history,
tomorrow is a mystery and today is a gift, the immense opportunities that I
stumble on and those I never seize still bog my mind. I hence try to accept my
present in terms of developing proper habits and never resisting the flow of
life. As such I am not resistant to change. I am devoid of constancy and
conformist and conservative societal ambiguity and innuendoes. If I find out I
am limiting my prospects, I take a seat in the recliner and think over nothing.
I have found a purpose in life. Something that gives my life a distinct and
unique meaning which I cannot walk away from. That means I have to be as
realistic as possible to myself in what I do and how I do it. If positive
thoughts are a disease then I am bedridden as an individual for they control a
better part of me. I am one carefree chap who has found solace in listening to
my heart and never deceiving myself when things look grim. Still even though
tomorrow is a mystery, I anticipate that with it I will get good tiding that
will bring an avalanche of lavishness.
Of course there are times when things are thick and tough, but when you think
of those who are in a worse disposal you get a better perspective never to
relent. The goals you set are ambitious and after advice, you turn them to
those that are achievable, within range and realistic.
Ok ok ok. A diary is a reflection of what you have been up to in the recent
past. Yet so far this looks naught what it was supposed to be. The thing is,
sometimes it takes a lot of time to truly know your place in life. You try too
many things before you finally settle on one that you never know whether it
will be the last resolute decision you have ultimately made.
As a job seeker, you need to be all eyes, ears, skin, mouth and nose. In short,
your senses should have been on the know of the slightest opportunity that
arises. Opportunities are usually rare. They are never forthcoming as expected.
But on my part I have been very selective with the opportunities that come my
way.
For instance I sent a message to seek clarity from one of the many leading
sites where prospective jobs are posted. In the site you have the option of applying
directly for the job. Alright, you have applied for several and no replies are
forthcoming in the many you have applied through the site. Instinctively you
are sure of having qualified for the job so you mail the site owners asking why
they are taking guys for a ride. They give a reply that reading in between the
lines, you realize they are just like the ragtag sites that enlist jobs to get
hits so as to get paid by Google for promoting adverts of prospective clients
using ad sense.
Someone tells you hand delivering your CV and cover letter is better and will result
in you getting the job faster, but you also heard that those papers are
recycled in the office and used in photocopying trite gen. That left you
addled.
You have wasted too much time already, but you keep hope alive. You console
yourself that Abraham Lincoln also failed several times before he could make it
to be the president of the most powerful nation on earth. Inwardly, you know
your self-esteem is crumbling day by day, your mates have jobs and you are
tantamount to the ubiquitous and cacophonous beetle that usually flies at night
then falls down all of a sudden. The hope you had is fast giving way like the crumbling
of techtonic plates. You are in a kind of time release panic attack. Luckily,
there is that friend who had contacts, yes, the guy who bragged while you kept
solemn of the many places he could get employed in but he is still a hustler.
Other than the degree, you have other qualifications you thought would have
given you an added advantage and an edge in the employment market but still you
are redundant. In the meantime you continue sending CVs online every morning.
Only getting a job will stop you from sending them. It is never easy I tell you.
Sometimes you get frustrated and disheveled to a point where your vision and
mission in this world is blurred and you are contemplating going back to school
because you can’t withstand being idle. School fees however acts as the barrier
to your proclivity.
In the meantime, a certain chap you were in school with has changed like three
jobs and still thinks of looking for greener pastures that may arise. You
however aim at being a prototype. Being a butch, you know that the going is
usually chunky. You have adopted a pseudo-Japanese tendency of thinking things
are alright even when they are wrong. Like, you don’t have a job, you are in
the city and dependent, the last time you bought clothes in G-mall (Gikomba)
was months ago. Yet you think this is alright. No things aint right.
You keep on postponing things till it becomes a behavior ingrained into your
system. Like you wanted to go to audition for the next play with either Fanaka
Arts or Jicho Four at KNT but you lost hope the last minute as no one could
elate the fervor you had for failure to open up. Maybe just maybe, you think
you can make a good comedian. You have occasionally recited some jokes in your
mind and want to go to Churchill live and audition, be on TV and become famous
overnight. You think you can make a better comedian, one who never makes jabs
at the different tribal tendencies of Kenyans. Again time flies away fast. You
no longer are able to go, so you use the social media platform as a bait of
testing the ground. After about a week, you realize no one retweets your jokes,
no one likes them on Facebook and you have tried your able best.
Talking of social media, blogs keep you updated on the latest 411. You are ever
on the net looking for the latest news on which celebrity was got pants down or
cannot do TBT of her previous snaps, which politician was spotted on Koinage
Street. In fact you are a fanatic of blogs to the extent that you become a
psycho of their premises. Whatever they say you take it as gospel truth, you
are the first to relay back the gen to people who sometimes don’t give a damn
about the blogosphere. Socialites wow you like shit. You wish you had the
shekels to take them for the various sabbaticals they promote while at it with
loaded chaps whose carnal desires are real and they satiate making young girls
think they usually have it rosy. They know best the story, the bdsm like in
Fifty shades of Grey (book not movie) and all that. Economics you remember.
Insatiable human wants and scarce resources have left you in a quandary.
You are probably like a child now. You know all the programs on TV. Sprawled on
the couch, slurping some cheap lumpy heath drink and yakking half the day away.
Initially you vowed never to watch Nigerian movies, you talked trash about
them, those Pilipino, Mexican and Indian soaps. You are a master of following
the intrigues, drama, jealousy and all the various themes that arise. You never
want to miss them after completing your daily rota which ends early in the day.
The love scenes makes you think you can pull one with the svelte Miss Mboch who
has gotten into your nerves. Obviously, she is waiting for you to hit on her,
get her paged and when you secure a job later in life, she will bring the
burden. You enjoyed with her, never used rubber, told her sweet nothings and in
future FIDA will be on you. The child a perfect replica of you. No need for any
DNA test. Then you are with your campus crash. She never knew it but you looked
for her at the time of plenty. Bulshit brother. Things never work that way. She
is also employed in a reputable company. But your mess follows you and
threatens to tear your young family apart.
You realize you are addicted to either twitter, instagram (double tap comes to
mind) or Facebook. Ok there is also whatsapp where you chat raunchy details
with the various ladies on your list. There are so many chics you have hit on,
those you easily take to your pals for some romp because you don’t have your
own house yet. The profile pic in your graduation gowns you placed on your
account is enough to sway a couple of those gullible chics. Those whom you think
consider themselves classy, KFC, Subway of Pizza in nyale.
On twitter you tweet like you are paid to tweet. You think you are very
creative now that you have been able to get a few retweets since Twitter is
increasingly getting populated with shagzmodos. You follow all the hot trending
topics and tweet about each. Some poor attention seeker ranks you among the mid
wigs. You have slightly over 1000 followers. The recognition makes you go gaga.
Yet you are a busy body. Damn you, some fellows are paid to tweet. On Facebook,
you have liked almost all the pages, you are in groups that make you feel at
home, you are content with the status quo. You are wasting time brother. You
are wasting time you tell yourself. Thirty more minutes and I will be out of
here. That thirty becomes 4 hours. Chances are a Chiquita did wow you with
romantic messages and being a harlot of a man, you want to meet her ASAP.
Someone tells you that you can get lots of bucks working online. So many
network marketing firms have emerged and you buy into the idea. You borrow
cash, pay up for the program and get swayed into believing you will become an
online millionaire. The
presentations and the confessions prompt you to think things are easy. Upon
trial, you fail miserably on the first week. Yet they made it look very easy.
Like a relaxed Sunday Morning. Pumbavu. Things are taking a nosedive, you are
plummeting faster than you thought.
You still find time to go for raves and silently conjure of pulling an Alfred Ajani (Google this name). Football still manipulates your thoughts
like you have been chained like the negro during slave trade era. You
occasionally drink booze but your favourite are those sold in wines and
spirits. Cash issues. There you mingle with like-minded cretins. Poor Kenyan
graduate. Life is never easy in the city. It gets to that point you resort to
the church but that dude in Kile who wanted you to tutor his kids on Maths and
Science found a better option. What next. You are headed to the shags, singing Q-ta-C's song 'Narudi Ocha'. And the
cycle begins again. Luckily you will find a job, that job that is elusive. That
job that will demarcate the learned and those without content between their
ears. Yes in shags though you call the shots, you still keep hope alive.
If you are keeping hope alive like me. 2015 is the year of SUCCESS.
SITUONANE.
