WHEN YOU WANT TO RANT

I finally watched the movie, ‘The Fate of the Furious’. Watching the trailer on IMDb, I had vowed to watch it like I am thinking of Wonder Woman now. By any standards, it’s a must watch. It has a low-key start, less brouhaha film and as it ends, you enter an escalated fictitious world full of excessive stunts that are quite pulsating and promising if a lover of action movies. Who deserves the man of the moment in this movie? It should be both Jason Statham and the Rock. Vin Diesel was the hero turned villain turned hero again hence does not qualify in my opine.

I loved his car moment where he was able to withstand five cars pulling his petrol head in five different directions as he remained steadfast and unmoved behind the wheels. His muscle car driving dexterity was heroic. The adrenaline in this scene was momentous. That part was suspenseful as the stakes seemed higher and I cringed in the settee wondering what was going to happen next. His escape was lackluster if not a misfire.

I was really waiting for a fight between the Rock and Jason. It would have put to rest my burning thirst of what I considered to be an epic fight in recent times in action movies. Well, there is a scene where Dom kills Deckard (Jason Statham). On learning that Deckard did not make it, the heavily built agent Hobbs gets disappointed and hits the wall hard causing a huge dent with his brawny fist. A sign that he really wanted to have the fight.

Like I have always intimated, I am still a novice in matters movies review. I would like to be a better one sometime in future. Like, I used to narrate the stories of ‘Staro’ (hero) and ‘Killer’ (villan) when I was an addict of Chinese movies like Shaolin temple and the likes of what I had watched in class to my camaraderie when was still in primary school. Yet these were movies which a child my age was not required to view.

All in all, The Fate of the Furious is a top-notch blockbuster that deserves a flick. I gave it a 7 out of ten when I saw how it started and when it was ending I reviewed my rating and gave it something above 8. As, it turns out, it has a commendable rating of 7 in IMDb, 66% on Rotten Tomatoes and 56% on Metacritic. Incidentally, I don’t understand why the ‘b’ in IMDb is small while the rest are capitalized. Critics though, have really slammed it for lacking on script content, editing and post production. One critic even said that it is stupefying because of the ‘failing in the material that connects the action sequences’.

Away from movies, I had initially thought of writing about my last pay from the bank which I worked for. It was a pitiable $18. I could only withdraw $12 of that amount given than I had some $8 in the account. I could not be able to withdraw the rest of the cash because I was in what people called, ‘Bank ya wadosi.’ The ATM I used that day could only dispense KSh. 1000 notes only. So the rest of the cash has gone, gone like that to the dogs.

Don’t you just hate it when you think you will be paid but end up taking a tenth of what you should have got? Let me not even explain about that. I was expecting nothing or the full pay I had worked for the month that I was summarily dismissed having left alone for reasons that were more personal than work related.

Indeed, I felt like a used contraceptive that had been thrown after serving its purpose when I saw the pay I was to receive. How do you even wire such an amount to a person? Hmmm. What to do next? Well, the reality is that we were being paid like casual labourers, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Actually, you get paid at the end of the day but the salary comes at the end of the month. The commission is what is paid without much ado.

That moment you stare at your ATM account balance and, bang! You freeze on your tracks. Then you ask yourself what you are going to do with that money? At that point, I remembered I had a loan. I used the pay to settle the loan I had procured from the bank and still had a deficit. I paused for a moment then an idea struck. Mshwari. Well, I am not an advocate of using credit to pay another, but there are times when you need to ensure you are not CRB listed in order to maintain a clean sheet because of the future.

I paid my loan and thought I now had Mshwari to contend because it is more reliable and less cumbersome when you want to get a soft loan. I bet my former employer should work out a superior approach towards lending instant cash instead of copy pasting an unworkable mechanism that puts the interest of the lender first at the expense of the recipient. It operates like a fintech lending app only that the fintech is risk seeking with its lending than banks.

Well, I must say fintechs are much more adept at money lending than banks it seems. They take more risk for the averse individuals they lend to. They know how to create mini moments of seduction. Then they tie you without your knowledge. Like an unsuspecting bunny, you follow the scraps of food they dribble out to lure you to take another loan. Then you become addicted. While it started nicely. It ends badly. You drown in. And when you cannot pay, you become carefree. The next time you are borrowing, you realize you were CRB listed. There is a charge of KSh. 2000 to clear your name and the money you owe may be a paltry KSh. 100 bob. I can’t refute that I have been tempted to forego paying and don’t even try to deny it either.

Check this out, I requested for a loan of KSh. 1000 the first time and repaid it within a record time from my banks app. On requesting for another loan, I could not qualify immediately after repaying. In Mshwari you qualify immediately after paying your dues. The amount I could qualify for had also been watered down tremendously. I also had to incur costs like sending the money to my Mpesa account, and then another cost of withdrawing from Mpesa. While you may think the monthly interest is low, what you end up with is way less than what you receive if you request a similar amount from Mshwari.

Usitukane wakunga na uzazi ungalipo. I may need that facility in future. But in the meantime, I will stick to what I know best, Mshwari for soft loans.

Fast forward and the loan that I was thinking was out of the picture is still haunting my financial standings which makes me feel like retching altogether. How do you explain another rollover fee which I am told is because of reversal of the loan I had paid and had not been received, annoying isn’t it?  Ati because the due date had passed and I had not paid my dues I was supposed to pay more. To make matters worse it’s not my fault for lack of paying. It’s theirs for lack of collecting. Bet this is a one off event.

For a guy like me with unreliable income stream, it came as a surprise when the loan I had paid was reversed to my Mpesa account. I had an urgent need for money and ended up using the reversed shekels to pay for an event that I am to attend.

Then I received a call telling me to pay the full amount plus the rollover fee and the mistake was not mine. That the excess will be reimbursed into my account once I had paid the full amount. Well, Ksh. 171 may not look like a paltry figure when you are slapped with but when it is as a result of someone else’s negligence, you feel like lamming the hell out of that person’s senses.

Here is why, there is another charge of Ksh. 50 to process the loan to ensure it gets paid. In total, I am to pay a cool Ksh. 220 kwa makosa si yangu. It’s my money they are robbing me in broad daylight, right? And that’s just sad for a pleb.

What can KSh. 220 do? It can buy me chips, a piece of chicken and soda in a bargain fast food restaurant in town. I could have saved the money. I could have bought four underpants or pairs of socks. Now, I have learnt my lesson the hard way and lost money. I have henceforth vowed that I will not be using the platform anytime soon. Mshwari pod pek jowegi.

If it were not for that sales or debt collection guy with a heavy Sap accent, I would have gone on rampage on social media ranting how I won’t pay anything more than what I was intended to pay. Why? I remembered how I used to feel when clients never took offence with some bank policies and decided that I will pay just to keep the bugger in his job. He deserves to be in that job. Maybe he is the sole breadwinner who is also taking care of an extended family.

But I still feel hurt and betrayed and annoyed. I wanted to tell the bugger that I am broke and jobless. That I thought they should have known better. Well, I am here writing about how good the bugger probably from collections or CLM was to me. In short, the guy alinituliza moyo.

He never knew that I was owed by the people he was working for. I wanted to tell him, ‘Hebu ambia hao watu kwanza wanilipe kwa ile kazi nilifanya’. You see, no one recognizes the efforts of a salesperson who goes hawking without coming back with a sale. That’s behind me now.

I must admit that I used to feel guilty as to why I was not doing things right by submitting ‘an application’ of prospective and current customers. Well, it was frustrating reporting to work and not being able to deliver because of many reasons that were beyond my control. Now I feel free.

Legally, I owe them. Morally, they owe me. Probably I will be CRB listed because of my account accruing ledger fees. Again, it had some Insurance standing orders that I am not able to pay. I intend to pay the loan I owe as soon as I get the peanuts that I receive from working online because my efforts have not been able to burgeon like I had intended them to. But they will with time.

That said, the freedom that I am currently experiencing is worthier than the stress that I used to go through in my quest to be seen as a proletariat in a sales job. I don’t need the money they owe me that much because it is not that substantial to change my standings in society financially. I just love the fact that it’s not as suffocating as I used to be. I am more than happy with the petty that I get.

Hasta La Vista Baby

[Picture Source: My Own]

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PARA MI MAMÁ

You know what ma, my mind is kind of wonky.

I know you love reading. I know it because we used to have those moments. Remember back in the days when dad used to buy ‘Daily Nation’ and each of us wanted a piece of what was inside.

These days, I have an uncanny habit of finding what I love reading from my palm. Phone. Oh! I am still moaning the loss of my phone. I know you tried to reach me the other day. Hence had to contact small bro.

Am trying out something new ma. From the rocky terrains that dad used so much to restore into cultivable land, you wake up every morning. You, ma have made a name out of yourself in those streets.

Those places don’t deserve the Twitter phrase ‘those streets’. It’s a hamlet for heaven’s sake. It’s a community that comes to life once villagers have got out of the lonely mud walled houses that characterize the humble dwellings people live in. Everyone knows everyone.

I know they look up to you because you have been an ‘employer’ for quite some time. Oh! What do those villagers say, that he works in town with nothing to show for what he has achieved?

Ma, I lost my phone in circumstances you would not be in affirmation of. I lost my phone because they get lost and I wrote about it here.

First things first. Ultimately, I will buy a phone. An analogue one that does not attract kleptomaniacs. One that befits my new-found status. An unemployed jobseeker. Because I don’t know how I will explain to guys what I do.

You know what ma, you are the only person who has called within the family and asked about my phone. Never mind that the call came almost three weeks after I lost my phone. Two weeks and four days to be precise. My statistical knowledge of rounding off without truncating tells me that it’s now three weeks.

You asked if I am still working? Yeah, I work. Not for a big institution anymore. I read on a blog they are requesting some staff to take up early retirement. Such inhouse affairs should not reach gossip blogs, right.

Then allow me to tell you that from my investment studies, those targeted don’t affect the investor confidence in the bank. I am like a jilted lover. You may say, nosing it up where I was from. Well, we are humans, we ultimately want to know what is happening the other side where we were initially.

Let me also tell you how it feels not to be having a phone ma. It feels like the nineties. I love it this way. You know that technology is integrated in our day to day life, especially the phone. I love the feel of people not having access to me. I also love it that no one is caring that much about me. Not having to text, call, and the internet of things. I still manage to wake up early due to instincts because I have no alarm to wake me up.

Here is a terse odyssey of my first day without a phone after being relieved off my duties for being AWOL. Minnows like us don’t matter that much when we don’t make it to work. In fact, I was just a torn in the flesh to my manager who never seemed to understand me and all that shit.

I decided to go to the famous Arboretum near State House. A nature trail that is gayer than anything on moors. A luxurious, glorious and greeny terrain that has trees that are alive with birds, insects, monkeys and squirrels. I wanted to go and meditate near the soothing sounds of a flowing river. I wanted to savor the sound so that it creates a sense of inner peace.

The pure white noise that I take for granted. It was going to be subtle experience to ease tinnitus and improve my concentration. Apparently, the sound of falling and gurgling water is no longer free if you don’t have a phone. And for that matter, Mpesa. I wanted to go and calm down and probably fall asleep. Guess what? It never came to be.

Well, ma the place I used to access free of charge while in campus is now only accessible by paying for entry via Mpesa. I had no phone, therefore no Mpesa and no entry.

I walked back feeling abused and weary. That I had walked all the way only to be told that I can access the place only after electronically paying for entry. What do these people want my phone number for? But we are living in a world where people thrive on data. My only question is, why only Mpesa.

That is how I never managed to gain entry. So my hard cash never mattered. Obviously, Uhuru Park came to my rescue. And I passed next to that cube I used to reside in while living in the suburbs. I felt nothing ma.

There is no way I would have put my mind into a thought process afterwards. But here’s a catch.

When you have nothing that goes on in your mind. You develop a sense of self efface. You can even have suicidal thoughts. What’s more, nobody cares anyway. People only care when they gain from you, or in worst case scenarios, when you are about to be interred.

Fair enough, let me now change the vibe.

The other night, I felt that ka thing we feel when we see a person in a poor state of health.  I felt like an emotional roller coaster had taken over me. I even cried and slept knowing that you are experiencing a medical crisis. You voice though, still clear and authentic. But your health and body, it betrays the voice.

Then I remembered how you used to struggle with dad when he used to have those nose bleeding moments when I was a toddler and he had to go for a surgery. Now you only have him and he has you. He may not know how to be the best but still ensures he turns to the occasion every time you are sickling.

Ma, I don’t know how it feels to be that sick. The way dad explained it. The medication had an allergic effect on your body. And I could see it when I last saw you.

I felt sad but had to hold back the tears. At some point, when I saw you, I saw someone who was on the verge of going. But you are a strong woman and has seen worse. Well, because he is with you and knows best, I still carve out time to engage in other stuff other than thinking about your state of health.

Perhaps you are probably wondering whether your son is normal. You have never seen him with a lady, or he has never hinted at a relationship with one. Well, I am still single and chasing after the wind with a certain girl I should not even be chasing. She is my friend’s former girlfriend.

She had a birthday this week. She had wanted me to take her for an Italian cuisine this Friday. But I have gone chini ya maji because of issues finances. Lakini ntampeleka tu. Plus, I know how it feels when the person who should have wished you a happy birthday never does so. Well, I don’t have a phone. That’s my excuse. She knows about that. Hence, she can’t take any offence.

Now you know I am not having that ‘homo’ thing in me. Let me also tell you that there are others who have shown interest in me. Yet I never develop that deeper intimate relationship. I hence forget about them then remember later when their emotions have waned. But I am also to blame because I never tell them my feeling about them.

Now you know.

Moving forward. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t think I am interested in getting married or kids any soon. Well, like Ngugi wa Thiongo said, ‘I marry when I want’.

Let me also take this opportunity to tell you this, I am not sure of what my results will be in the exams, but as days pass, I become more pessimistic.

Ma, I have been thinking about relocating. I don’t know where but essentially where the is more peace and seclusion. Then I will come back. In the meantime, I fear how to go about the whole issue.

I know that you felt disappointed when you heard that I no longer work. Let me try to explain. Sales, mum is a calling. Just like writing they say. It should come natural or you may force it.

The best part is that I had prepared you psychologically for the event. I never made any progress in life other than blog posts and reminisces of the job. Sales was tricky. It was even hard when I combined it with my studies.

It made me feel less of a person. When I look back, I realize that there is so much you can do other than being a salesperson. I have now taken advantage of Edx. It’s a free online learning platform when you are not interested in certificates to show that you have studied a particular course. One day I will introduce your other son when he has outdone his love for FIFA.

Ma am still employed. But I have not got to that level where I can be entrusted with the company email. You know what, when I make this blog professional, I will have mine email.

I know many people take company email for granted but I am envious of them. Does that matter? Not very much. It’s just that I would have loved to have one when time comes. One more thing, I still have my pleb’s email.

Here is something else.

I have a feeling that you pray for me and my siblings to one day get out of the desolation and have proper jobs. I think happiness in life outweighs even the best job with the most competitive compensation package in the world. I also pray for your quick recovery in these times when you have no medical cover.

Seek thee the kingdom of happiness and all else shall be added unto you is my mantra. Once you are happy. It becomes easy to build on confidence and act on prevailing opportunities. Right?

Ma, I hate to say this but I hate when people advise me to apply for internships. It is said that it is a sure way to getting employed. You get skills that employers need. That the exposure is very material.

I will digress. Getting a job has more to do with being very good in what you do so much so that you become a prized possession an employer cannot let go of or the other way around. Again, there is the aspect of trial and error for a newbie like me in the area I want to venture in. It may take long but not forever. In the meantime, I am honing my skills.

But here’s something nice that you would love to hear. I have been up to date in my financial obligations in terms of paying for the groups we share and as such, I am not financially in a quagmire. Only that the big bucks have refused to come through.

Albeit the current moments seem unpromising, the future is bright. I can tell without doubt. You will pona and I will get a job. I will endeavour to beat the ideology that is there are no good jobs for plebs. In the meantime, I am working on getting my grove back.

Finally, it’s that time of the script to wrap things up. Time to tell you that I love you ma for being the woman in my life. Though I rarely ever call to tell you that. Those kibokos you gave me helped in a way. I am proud of you and as you struggle to make ends meet like I am doing this other side, I am pretty sure that one day, you shall reap the fruits of your labour for the sacrifice that cost you and you know where.

Hasta La Vista Baby.

[Photo Source: Google Images]

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FREELANCING [A PLEBEIAN'S VIEW]

When you retire to bed, like a night shift bugger, some like yours truly get down to the business of turning my machine into a hole in the wall, say a cash cow. It’s like a gambit, though. When your schedule doesn't fit into neat little boxes, it can require some special skills to keep everything in order. And that is the world of freelancing. That is why I am working on having a schedule center that can optimize where flexible tasks can fit because the freelance world has constant uncertainty. Sometimes you find it hard to detach yourself from work and recoup. Especially when you should task switch amid overlapping objectives. Yet, it’s so much interesting and worth giving it a try.

I don’t know whether to infer to myself as a recluse or just another bugger who has opted to find some meaning into what life generally is. After a year of working in the sales industry and making no proper in roads, I am now into something less ‘ish ish’ than ever before, online data entry. I have a love hate relationship with it. It’s kind of what I can call métier. For once, I have a job where I am never worried where the work will come from, someone else has to be worried about that.

That said, working online is not a bed of roses like I though. There is constant uncertainty, you sometimes find that your memory and ability to focus becomes impaired. During the working hours, you have to call in to see if there is work. And that is the most interesting bid. It’s synonymous to going to prospect for work in industrial area where the Indian banyans have control over your financial status. Only that, working online is kind of a surefire especially if you work for a growing institution with an organogram that augurs towards progress and stability.

I freelance for a small company called Cloudfactory (the total office space is a far cry from where I used to work from). It’s one of those firms that offers work yet it takes more than just the ability to work to withstand the work environment. This means that like any other institution, there are a fair share of challenges. It means you have your own to do list. Only that it is quieter and like liquid gas, quite combustible. And like everything else, there is the good, the bad and the ugly side of this job.

While there is more money in the field of sales where I formerly was, it can be lonely and not even a tinge of sparkle if all you are doing is looking at everyone as offering an avenue for a sale. Which inadvertently sometimes contributes towards a stupor of unhappiness. A world where you live for others. Where rivalry, selfishness and a sales cycle awaits you. While it strengthens your negotiation, communication and people skills, it can kill the ethical bit which is never within the scope of law. You can decide to lie at will, or worse still give empty promises in your customer interactions. That said, it’s more interesting to work as a salesperson than an online freelance data entry clerk in my opine if you can make it to be a success story in both. The skills in sales make you a better person, while those in data entry make you a better worker.

The reason why I had to call it a day in sales had everything to do with stress, a job never aligning to my goals in life and constant worries. The manager I was assigned to was the mechanical type who thought I deliberately refused to work even though the support she provided was not up to standard. Her sneer was enough to tell me that we could not gel because a salesperson is concerned with making money at the expense of anything else. As such, I was in constant worry of being laid off, pressure to perform to meet rising expectations but with no increase in job satisfaction and finally due to low motivation, I lost control of what I should do. Plus other exogenous variables, I felt like the impact was contributing to my deteriorating physical and emotional heath. I felt powerless. Yet there is a hotline which I never took advantage of looking back. Would it have changed much?

If in any way the sales thingy would have generally been a cup of tea, I would have done it for the rest of my life without much ado. But since it became a tough to cruise without hitches, I thought that it was time to pursue new exploits. Here, then is my parochial view of what it is like to work as a freelancer for an online company.

I have always been yearning to make forays into the ‘make money online’ thingy(sic). Just to quench my thirst for being able to attest to the fact that you can be able to make money online. If not for the fact that I love adventure, writing and finance industry through investments, I would have looked for guys in the freelance industry to give me more roles, and worked meticulously towards being a fulltime freelancer. Since I am still ish ish, I think I would say I am in it for the money, adventure and what else, the aspect of killing idleness.

Sometimes, I usually think that I should have focused on a career, a fully-fledged one where I am sure of a constant stream of income and growth. In sales, I saw people who had graduated, with more than five years’ worth of experience but were content in the cocoon of serving as a salesperson. Then I thought, ‘The growth trajectory I am to assume was that of being a good salesperson, then a personal banker, probably a branch manager in a tiny branch and the list is endless.’ Before you know it, you have this killed dream and you cannot go back.

When I look back, I feel like I have not made much progress in life, it’s like ‘I am still stuck in a rut’. Ideally, I own only what I need like clothes, a pen, a note book, my shoes no phone, I even misplaced my certificates and a laptop. I pay no rent given that I am housed by a relative. I am carefree hoping one day things will happen out of the woods. Should I be bothered about it? Hitherto I am yet to see real hardship in life. Still, I am sure I will come out unscathed after the hustle.

Here is a gist. Sometimes when you take up low income jobs and become used to them, you find it hard to even apply for a better job with a better compensation package and an intellectually satiating thrill because of the inadequate mentality you may have conjured. It’s like a slavish addiction that is oscillatory and apprehending. You seem like a script cast in stone. Then you wonder what went wrong. Going forward, you understand that life offers more than just being a pessimist and a conformist. Many fear rejection, and that is why we end up accepting our situations. You get tied to such situations and think that they are what you were guaranteed. But when you take some risk, perhaps you can achieve more than you did.

That was a by the way. Working online is like being an entrepreneur. It has it upside and downside. Then again, the upside out surpasses the drawbacks, there is contentment in a way when you are assured of a reliable income. The best part is that you have your rota to stick to. You know when to tweak it to align with your objectives and how you can achieve the most from it using the time everyone else has. The pressure with working online is that it is usually from within. Nothing is as rewarding as having the knowledge that you are doing what you love and you make yourself do it without feeling guilty.

Another trivial reason why working online is enthusiastic has to do with music. You can decide to listen to music while working and this makes the monotonous work more enjoyable. It has become inseparable to the tasks that I do. It is a work aphrodisiac. Music get the physical tasks juices flowing given that the natural sounds improve my ability to concentrate and execute (sounds sexual, nah). As such I listen to music I love and the result is that I have been able to focus on the task at hand for long hours. And that is how I came to learn of baroque classical music. It builds on the tempo. Sometimes there is humming which is soothing, dulcet tones creating a wordless melody, something to help you drift away to a reassuring state that even though you are working, you are still having fun.

There is also the pleasure of deciding that you will work or not. Let me put this straight up. We are human beings, we have feeling and moments in life. There are those times when you never feel like working at all. When in an eight to five job, nobody may understand that you need to have your me time. You put up a brave face, force a fake smile and do what you need to do even though you are suffering inside. When the moment ends, you return to reality, feeling empty and move on because that is life. But with online work that is moderated, forget about the other crowd sourcing platforms where you work with a nebulous crowd that is may not be skilled for the task at hand, you can decide to work when you are in the mood.

The fact that I work from the house is another advantage on my side. It can be lonely though. And few think you have a proper job. None thinks you get tired and consequently must relax. Guys want you to have the traditional job where you have somewhere to go. Where you wake up, go to work and go back to the house after work. When it comes to freelancing you can easily connect to nature when you want. You can visit a friend and when it’s work time, you unleash your workstation and you are good to go. You are never stressed because you only need a laptop and internet and you are good to go. You can even go to a coffee shop, order for one and do your thing there when you feel like. And you get paid on a weekly basis. Sounds good, right.

When it comes to work, the more you become consistent and turn up every day for the task, the more accurate and faster you become. That means that you also earn more. While it becomes hard at the onset, after looking for ways to ease it up, it becomes more interesting and fun. You perfect your skills and become the type who is waiting for work to be dispensed. For those of us remaining because the turnover rate was high, the zeal of eagerly awaiting for tasks is unabated. It motivates when you share the same status in life with others. You know that you are not alone.

The growth prospects are also many if opportunities arise. I have already attended one interview for a conventional job and even though it never amounted to much because chances are I was not well prepared for it. I felt like it was a delectable opportunity even though it was kind of conducted in a hurry. All in all, even being called for it was an exposure that was good. At least, you can be called for an interview given the skills and knowledge you have. Guess my unpredictability in the many jobs I have been in must have contributed towards the rejection.

In terms of the setbacks, there is an avalanche. First, you need to be trained and qualified for tasks. That is a rigorous kind of process because it may be frustrating to go through the exercise if you don’t get it right the first time and the second. You also need internet and a computer, which you can get from a cyber café. But still you need a computer to make it easy for you given that there is a custom-built web browser for the tasks. In the event you don’t have a laptop, you may easily opt out a this becomes a setback.

Again, there is no consistency in work availability. There are times when you think you will find work then it is not availed. What do you do? Many have given up because of the unpredictability. And that is not the major reason. The income stream is quite low for a starter. Even for the more established individuals, it’s not a very solid figure that is competitive. I have a feeling that when you are told by an employer, ‘You pay is within your disposal,’ you should think twice. You can be phenomenally very good, or a lackluster. It all depends on the attitude they say. But the truth is that you are never told that it also depends on other factors beyond your reach. So, with all due respect, be very sagacious as it may not be what you bargained for.

Sometimes you may just be working for the money. To pay the bills, and never to be an omba omba. This job is both physically and mentally involving. You have to skim through a lot of data to be able to decide on the right one to transcribe. That means that you have to be very thorough in your checks. If not, your pay reduces and what else, your motivation. The workload though not very much can be wearisome. You have to keep your eyes wide awake behind a computer and if you don’t regulate the screen resolution, you may end up having eye problems. No insurance is provided. Luckily, my glasses have antiglare.

The monotony of the job is that you never become adventurous. In sales, I used to determine where I worked from. I would visit many companies to solicit for sales, make presentations and that was motivating. I met many people, talked to many and even got new insights that I have documented on this blog though they are mediocre.

What is more frustrating with this job is that sometimes the goalpost shifts when not expected. For example, you may think that what you were doing was right then it becomes the opposite. At some point, I got irked and decided to go and sleep when my average pay started plummeting instead of descending. But because I am looking at the bigger picture, I regain some stamina and decided to learn from the mistakes. Chances are, I was having emotional disturbance.

My final verdict. Nothing is ever rosy. You might think that you will get it conducive somewhere else but it becomes challenging where you are heading to also. But learning on the skills and never giving up hope counts a lot. Your peanuts maybe another’s plenty. At the end of the day, I have realized that the pay does not matter. But a pay with a good working environment matters a lot. Most of all, loving what you do counts a lot.

Hasta la vista baby.

PS: During those no jobs moments, I discovered #DigitalSkillsAfrica and decided to pursue their online course on online marketing. I finished it within a day and realized that I don’t know what I will do with the certificate in terms of job hunting. But then again with the knowledge, this blog came to mind. Once I am stable, I will buy it a domain name, sort a profession web design interface and use the knowledge got to improve its visibility and it reciprocates by bringing in some income. I think that that course is intellectually stimulating but still not thorough for a guy who loves challenges.

[Picture Source: Google Images I redid] 

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ARCANE

We all have our hidden side that few ever know about. Even if they know, they never take it as an issue. Like the flaws in our bodies, a blog like this that none of my friend knows about. Secret families and careers some people engage in when not in familiar cohorts and things like nose picking, wanking and others atrocious acts you never imagine exist in humans. I also have a secret.

There is a Facebook friend who usually advertises his cult abandonly. At first I used to like his posts. Though I have not unfriended him, those Facebook algorithms realized his act was not my vibe and they never appear on my timeline. Actually, he is into illuminati. Which may be a faux given that sect members never do so openly. The reason why I ended up not loving his ways was that the money you are given was what some colleagues were earning in a good month. I am broke but am not ready for a life full of rituals like having to shave in a certain way, dress or act to suit forces that determine my financial leverage.

Going bald was a tough decision. Tonsure, or in layman terms a spiritual kind of thing. When you decide to renew your vows with a deity, that is actually the way to go. But it was a notion that was concocted somewhere in my gray matter that once I transition from being a salesperson in a bank, I would certainly go bald. When I started keeping hair, more than a dozen years ago, I never thought that one day I would go naked like I am on my head. Then, I was after hiding a scar. I was scared, and self-conscious. However, when I started keeping my hair long, I never bothered even a dime about the scar. My hair was like a cloth that hides the nudity of person. This scar got me whipped several nasty ones by a certain teacher whose boys were lecherous after I decided to have my hair long while the policy required we trim it to a decent size while heading to the dining hall for supper.

The first time I developed the scar was way back in primary school. I was a top chop, and most guys thought that the reason why my hair started receding from the back ending up into a scar was because I was spending too much time reading. That, in their opine was reason enough to motivate me to continue reading even though the scar was really making me feel less of a person. It was like a ringworm. And who develops a ringworm when he is almost finishing primary. So, to cut the long story short, the wring worm has withered many years and still exists to date. The only proof being that there is hair that now grows when I am having my head having a fullhouse..

Still on this ringworm, I remember there was a time when it had no hair and it was soft. One of my siblings or a close relative loved touching and playing with the spot because of its uniqueness. It was kind of elating my spirit because whoever was doing so was younger than me. And it had not grown to the size that it is currently. Soon, it may occupy my whole head. To make matters worse, I am naked health wise. Ever since I was given an exit, I never thought how the medical cover would have been of so much help in terms of rectifying the scar. I returned the cover having only depleted my optical and dental allocation.

Once a certain chic in campus asked me why I keep long hair and I told her that it was because of the scar. She thought I was trying to be a rebel. Yet, deep down, I knew it was because of my insecurity with the scar. The wrinkles on my face, the recessive dimples and the afro look etched the story of a jovial wizzle stoning sambo. My glossy bigger than normal eyes hidden behind glasses portrayed a radiant face, full of smiles making me look like I can never be bored. Some thought it was a sign of valiance. Especially when I would decide to leave my hair uncombed, with red jicho nyanya eyes that looked like I was high on substance when I was not in my lenses.

Shaving bald is like tonsure. Especially for a person who has normally been having an afro look. After having worked for a multinational for a year, I was now jobless, penniless and lastly broken-hearted. Even though I had seen it coming, when it became a reality, it did hit hard. My lips became pale and cracked, my eyes were no longer as liquid as they should. And my mouth was so dry and throat almost became sour, I tasted something metallic that was left in it with an acidic trace. In a million years, that day I felt hungry, which I normally don’t. I wanted to eat a lot. To compensate for those days, I had denied my body rations all in the name of working.

I felt liberated, free from asked what I had achieved for the day, free from being in a job where I am again looking for work to be able to earn, free from the tribulations of a paycheck that is exhausted before you even think of going for a drink or kurudishia mwili shukrani. I felt happy in a way, I wanted to tell the world that I am jobless and free from being pressurized to produce figures in terms of sales. If it was never meant to be, I shall never force what was not meant to be. Now am bold, less reticent and practically ready to display my domineering machismo because of this bald head.

Conventionally, I was to be given a termination letter, an indication that I have been sacked. Aren’t those sacked given letters? I don’t think that the damn thing is even necessary. Somehow, me going bald was a gesture that I was now starting out something new. For once, I decided to change my barber because of my changing fortunes. I went to the one who charges half the amount I normally pay for a regular shave. Given that going bald does not require any special skills, I went for a discounted shave.

I once saw a guy going ‘Jordan’ and I thought it was a very tasking job for a barber given that he took longer than usual to be shaven so much so that the roots on his head were never visible. His head became smooth and shiny. I abhorred that state.

When the barber had that I was going bald, the first statement he made was, ‘So you want a totally new look.” Since am not good at talking to strangers, I nodded my head and let him do his thing. “Hata ndevu pia.” I still nodded in affirmation. I don’t want to delve on the finer details of the interior of the kibanda barbershop but it was pathetic. Yet that is what I could afford. With no phone, empty wallet, a bleeding bank account and what else, no possibility of having a solid income because I never worked hard the weeks to exam, I just had to go for this shave.

Well, being shaved in such a place made me think how fortunate sometimes we are when we pay extra for our usual barbers. The shaver foil was not as friendly as it should. Ideally, it should massage the head, make you feel like you are having a good time. It should be another massage session even though I have never wanted to go for a massage because of its risqué. I am human and when you touch some pleasure points if a lady doing the massage, you sure can provoke my whizzle and that means parting with more bucks na vile uchumi ni mbaya.

The shave was a nasty one, I kept on imagining how ‘savers’ like me have to go through this moments all in the name of having to spend less, yet what we do with money when we are not in cozy places may be quite prodigal. Those who steal from us do it so swiftly in broad day light and some in subtle muzzles you find yourself giving even though you never had the intent of doing so.

Flashback, when I finished my exams, I was feeling like getting a little bit high. I remembered that in downtown, there is a certain joint where you can get high at a fraction of what you spend in those ritzy clubs. Mind you, I was solo. All my pals had been thrust by an exam we had hopes may sometime change our lives in future. There was one who came out of it feeling dejected and almost passing out given the uneasy look on his visage. He could not even eat and decided to head for the digs because he was feeling overwhelmed.

Given that I had been refunded some money by a friend the previous day, I felt like going and downing some ale as I waited for UCL to be aired. I went to my usual joint for booze where I sat next to the gents oblivious of the fact that I was placing myself in a compromising situation. Feeling like I was inhaling the stench, I asked the waiter to relocate my drink and though I went to a smoke-filled room, it was better as I was seated next to the window and the smokers were doing so once in a while.

Watching the game was fan, when your team is thrashing the other, you feel like you should have placed a bet. Buda ungewekelea. Those were the thoughts that were running through my head. Then some demon from nowhere decided to entice me with the possibility of going to a strip club. Well, the club was just few metres away.

The first time I went to a strip club, while still a first-year student, I did not see the action that goes on because I am shortsighted and we had to get out before things started getting nasty because our drinks had gone empty. And those bouncers and bartenders notice that quickly as if they are paid on commissions on who spots empty bottled revelers so that they can order you out or you buy more. I don’t remember the feeling but it was such an experience that never stuck.

Then I forgot about these clubs for a while. I must admit that sometimes the urge to explore leads me to proscribed places with the idea of finding out what happens behind those closed doors. I never thought I would ever go back to a cabaret but blogging lead me there. In fact, it was a former high school friend who told me to haller at him once he is paid so that we would go for a drink.

Pretending to be the uptown guy, I decided to go to a ritzy joint as I waited for him. I ordered for my favourite brand and noticed two ladies with a Johnnie Walker black label mzinga sipping it like nothing ever mattered. I was with a workmate. I also ordered for him given that he was the ever-broke guy. He however was a mummy’s boy and quickly left before eleven in the night. But not after my friend had bought him some two made of black.

Even though it was payday, my friend became uneasy and said we club hop. Guess the place was not that conducive for his pockets or for getting jiggy. So, he said we go somewhere in along Keekorok Road where action never stops.  

I should have known that he was taking me there, I would have rescinded the request right away. But when you are a little high, you become indecisive and unwary. You follow like a dog, and behave like a politician’s sycophant because the bills will be paid. Entry fee to the ripper did set me aback but I had to because I was not after disappointing my friend. He appeared well known there and he was from taking drugs the previous week a reason why he was not taking so much ale.

We ordered for a Gilbeys mzinga, and some soda. I don’t remember drinking because the showgirls were all over our table having been friends with my friend who was a celeb here. They were like, “Me huwa sipendi makali” but the drink was reducing faster than a kettle of tea served to village labourers. He even knew those who were not working that day and caressed them with abandon. I was the shy type, it being my first day. In total, I ended up taking a loan for two mzingas watched both a blue movie being played in the background and the lady gagas doing their pole thing. Before we left, I was given a grind but the thing was so hasty I regretted why I went for it.

Then another time, I took my cousins who were pressing me that they wanted to find out the other side of Nairobi. Well, they witnessed it. The worst part is that their drinks got sprayed by the cum from a randy stripper who I think got so much on heat she was peeing like a dude. Spraying her thing to the nearest tables. I vowed never to return to the club again. Until the other day when some gremlins took me to the joint and I found myself asking one of the bartenders to get me a sassy diva for a grind, just to get the thoughts of having been given a rough thrust out of my head by an exam that has not changed my status so much.

Ideally, the babe tried so much by hook and cranny to make me want to go for something extra with her which she was peddling at 2K. Kwani inakuja na nini special ndio utoe hio pesa yote and the experience has an expiry date. However, when I am drunk, I never easily stand a lady, plus she told me that she had done it with other men. I hate sharing. So, the lap dance was enough. When she was through, I left for the digs at around 12. That is the point where I discovered that I had lost my phone while still having other valuables, I tried running back to go find out if I could recover my phone but on farther scrutiny of my pockets, I realized that all the cash I had had somehow flow away. I was only left with my fare for using to go back home and that is why I am never going to have a love hate relationship with that River road stretch.

I have vowed never to find myself on those streets again whether in the daytime or at night. If at any point I need a drink, I will use the money I should drink it a better pub. Never mind that I had intentioned to save cash to be able to have enough to start a solitary life. Now, I must go back to the drawing board, but as I have gone through tonsure, I am confident that these bizarre behaviours will now be a thing of the past.

Hasta La Vista Baby.

[Photo Source: Pixabay.com]

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WHAT'S NEXT?

Thinking can be a very poky process. You seem to have got it right then when you execute the idea, it turns pukey. Then you wonder what the problem really is. Many times, you find yourself in those situations where you really have to think hard. Then amid all the web of jinx, you find you have no idea at all of what you want to do. Your plans are in shambles and you have no financial clout to execute the irradiant thoughts you hand in your mind. When you get into such a situation, you become lackadaisical.

Sometimes life usually hits a dead end. There is no much progress you are making and the little that you think you had is nothing to be proud of. It’s situations like this that make you ask yourself candidly, ‘What am I in for?’ Well, there is so much that we want to achieve. You may be in a catch 22 situation like I am currently in. Nothing seems to be working out right.

There is usually one big problem that normally arises when one finds himself in tricky situations. For example, you are employed, you work because you are supposed to. Nothing is enviable there. It reaches that point where you become like a carousel. Doing things because you are programmed to do so. There is virtually nothing to motivate or take you to the next level. Progress seems impossible, and the mind is kind of lethargic. You want to make headwinds. The more you try, the less you feel like you will ever make it.

I finally sat for my exams. If I can remember the hours that I did put into study, the fact that the exam sidestepped me for once and the possibility of a masters (repeating), I feel obliged to write about it here. Yet I am short of the right words to drive the point home. As such, it does not hurt to digress. 

I also lost my phone after finishing my exams. I remember running like a mad person on the streets hoping that I will finally trace the person who stole; nothing much. A trace of the last place where I was online indicates it was next to the exam room. I wish I had an iPhone. It has one of a kind security that local cryptographers cannot crack. You lose it and you are sure it is never going to work again. The circumstances under which my phone got lost is an experience that has served to broaden my perspective about the Samsung phones that I have owned. Are they cursed, and they normally get lost in downtown Nairobi. Yet, I still love the brand when it comes to a mid-range phone. Probably, I will get another before the end of the year, but in the meantime, I shall remain phone-less to be able to remove myself from the world that I have to be in amid it being networked by mobile phones. I want to feel the pinch of not having a phone.

Back to exams, I cannot say I was fully prepared to do the exams. It was a fifty-fifty thingy (I loved the way a certain home-schooled nine year old used this word 'thingy' and also got hooked to it). You know you have the exams at hand, time has flown so fast that it has been difficult to put your act together, but still you sit for it. Perhaps I should have studied just a little bit longer and harder. Perhaps I should not have strained commingling between two jobs, and study. Perhaps I should have not been so much motivated by money. Perhaps! Perhaps! Perhaps! Perhaps! Perhaps!

When I look back, I tell myself, the situations you put yourself into were more than you could handle. They made you lose out. You lost weight, lost meaning of why you are working, lost friends, lost it in terms of happiness and now you have lost your phone. The most prized possession after the laptop that you own. It was a sign that you can work, make money and start buying new things.

I am officially back to job hunting. I read a very interesting article written by someone about graduates. It was a scathing attack that belittled education, a personal opine that illustrates the situation of a plebeian graduate. You graduate and enroll into the system of search for work. You spend years looking for work and when you find it, you spend the rest of the time being enslaved to the job, by the time you know it, you are in midlife crisis. You have a nagging wife, a family to take care of, a small car to fuel to show that you are somehow doing well, a loan the bank does not give you space when you are not servicing it because they will CRB list you and a tattered perspective about what you want to be other than reporting to an eight to five job, waiting for someone to determine your destiny at the expense of shaping it.

There is a certain colleague who loved phrases like ‘see you at the top’, ‘Flourish! Flourish! Flourish!’, ‘Blossom! Blossom! Blossom!’ and many others that when you meet him, you start uttering them even before he does. I asked one of the friends of my sister who works with the guy closely and she was unrelenting in her description of their professional status back at work so much so that they were not in talking terms. I was left flabbergasted for lack of a better word to use because the guy is really a celebrity back at the office where I used to work. He does not fear speaking out his mind and will encourage you with a bible verse here and there spoken in fluent Swahili.

It’s amazing that a prophet is never accepted in his hometown. That is why sometimes he finds it easy to preach for those far and wide because Kenyans love the gospel but not practicing it. They get motivated by his word and even give offertory when he is allowed to preach whenever he has pitched tent. A certain salesperson who saw him collect over ten thousand after payday of some civil servants narrated how he had wished he could be sliced a percentage of the offer but given that andu a nyumba is so magnetized to mullahs, he had to kula kwa macho.

On my part, I sometimes feel I lost it. I concentrated so much on looking for ways to pass an exam then forgot to focus on my job. Yet I really tried. I am not a multitasking kind of dude. Probably it has resulted in the situation I am currently in where I will have to be a freelancer just to be able to make some few peanuts and also look for ways of getting to the next phase of life. I want to finish my exams, then, if will result in a job in the investment industry, I will be glad, if I fail, then this writing has to go to another level.

While I am pondering on what next, I remember that I have this blog. My only source of solace when I think I have no one to out pour my tribulations. It has been real working with this blog. It has made me go through situations that are well worth writing about. It has taught me to remain strong even in the face of adversity. It has tremendously improved my writing skills. It has made me more of a daredevil and still a cower at the same time. It made me work as a salesperson. It made me visit corners that I would have naturally not gone to. It has gotten me abused for being a good Samaritan. To sum it up, it has been a heuristic platform.

Well, I am now looking for new opportunities. I have not been able to break even in the past few years. I would like to make a new start. I would love to be a free bugger from the jaws of penury. I am now adjusting back to normal life after perusal process.

When you have been preparing for an exam for a colossal amount of time of  the year, and the line manager you are working with only thinks of what the employer will think of you when you have taken some short study leave, you feel obliged to decide whether to go for it or not to. The best decision is that which you engage in and never regret about it


What is however quite a task is the fact that when you leave work, you must program your mind back to having long hours of idleness. You still wake up early as usual. The only presence they will never find is your normalcy in social media. Sharing those forwards, videos and nobody ever realizes that you are phone-less. You wake up instead of going to work, you head to a cyber cafe to finish some tasks online. They give you money. After that,you head to Uhuru Park, there you sit next to a a certain hobo who is reeking of stink with grime filled attire. It attracts flies, but you are looking for a short story. When you get tired, you go to your former office, where because you were in good books with the sentry, courtesy of giving him tips, he willingly allows you in.

In this transition period back to normal life, no serious job and having to find meaning in my objectives, there is only one thing that keeps hope alive. That stories to tell never end. the experiences in life keep on twitching and they provide a good learning ground. All in all, there are books to read to get a new twist and most of all, the desire to have a breakthrough when push comes to shove.

Hasta la vista baby.

[Picture Source: My own]

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