Memories

Memories sometimes ignite an everlasting flame that weaves into a golden thread, which gradually crumbles into ash, and you either forget about them like a one-time whistle or vividly cherish them like a beloved pet. Like a gust of wind, memories can blow you away, leaving you dancing to an imaginary melody. 

The best moments are like tides in the ocean; they drift in and out and leave behind scattered shells of joy. Likewise, the worst moments leave marks that are painfully etched; you choose to forget them since memories are like a collection of photos. Some you keep because they spark great pleasure, others you discard because they have nothing of value. 

Once in a while, memories flash through the mind, and you decide which to hold onto and those that can wander off never to seep through the brain again. Those with positive vibes are embrased; you let them blossom and grow into treasured baskets that nourish the spirit. They salve your conscience and make you feel demure. On the other hand, the negative memories are like a pinch of salt. When correctly added to a meal, the depth of flavour makes the food tasty; otherwise, when overdone, the food is ruined.

Memories are like a deck of cards. On one hand, some are painted with joy, others filled with sombre shades of sorrow, while some are stained with harsh hues of regret. Like a pack of cards, our past comes with so much to reflect upon. Going down the memory lane can be an experience that is enchanting or jarring. When you hold cards on your hands, each card brings with it a chance to alter the course of the game or to win and hence you are happy with the outcome. 

Victory is rewarding in a way that is stirs up the soul. Especially when the competition is intense. It is forever cherished. Moreso, when it is you maiden game, and you get your first triumph, it normally feels so nice, igniting a firework of emotions. You savour your moment with excitement due to the thrill of conquest.

You want to fight on and prove that from an 'ant' you can add 'gi' and rise to a 'giant'. Your brain a taut bow that ready to the flex for the next level. "You are strung with determination", you mind whispers. You trod the paths that made sense subconsiously or consciously and the outcome was a win. 

At the end of the day you need to approach each hurdle like a seasoned athlete. Prepared for a knack of success strings. As much as the journey may be filled with jagged glasses and bleeding soles, you surge on. When you win it will belong to everyone. A win makes you a champion. And champions are beacons that unite us.

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Bachelor Diaries

There’s a unique rhythm to mornings in a bachelor’s domain—a solitude that cloaks the day in a distinct flavor, like the first sip of coffee that bites yet beckons with a bitter warmth. The apartment sits in twilight silence, a liminal space caught between the sacred silence of dawn and the world’s inevitable buzz. It’s not emptiness; it’s a breath, long and drawn out, unhurried by the pulse of any footsteps but one’s own.

The hum of the refrigerator is a low, constant companion. You become familiar with it, almost enamoured, as it fills the quiet with a mechanical lullaby that grounds you. In the absence of another’s presence, your senses are heightened to the delicate nuances of each sound, each creak in the floorboards or rustle from the street below. The place becomes a sanctuary of little familiarities, your own haven of gentle static.

Sometimes, when the light slips in through half-shut blinds, you catch dust dancing like tiny galaxies, suspended in gold—a brief play of the ordinary turned ethereal. For a bachelor, the morning becomes something sacred, a chance to weave your thoughts in private, free from the interruption of another’s gaze.

Breakfast is a small ceremony of choice and simplicity. Eggs, toast, perhaps a dash of hot sauce—a single plate, a single mug. The flavours are yours, unshared, undiluted. You linger over them, savouring each bite, knowing that these moments belong solely to you. There’s a freedom in it, an awareness of one’s self that comes only in the presence of one’s absence. Sometimes, you find yourself talking aloud, narrating the thoughts that come unbidden, almost testing your own voice as if it too needs reassurance.

The evening comes as a welcome lull in a fine opera. She casts her dusky gown making the air fresh and restful. A joyful time for reflection has arrived. Shadows grow, stretching long against walls decorated with art of your choosing. There’s a question in the air—a silent, whispering invitation to reflect on what, if anything, might be missing. The edges of this solitary life may sometimes feel frayed, like a page longing for the touch of another’s hand.

The carefree existence that is characterized by bachelorhood sometimes flows like a dreamscape and fills with sensual freedom. Dirty dishes are sprawled across the sink. Feeling lazy, you pick up your phone and make an order. It's the usual, chips and chicken or pizza. At least, soda and juice are always in the fridge. When funds are low, the dial-a-delivery eatery comes through, bringing snacks straight to the door. You console yourself that come tomorrow, you will wake up refreshed and ready to clean up the mess. The laundry basket is overflowing with clothes that have seen better days. Tardiness and procastination are evident all over.

Weekends are meant to hang out with your buddies. Gaming sessions are full of rivalry. A single tournament will quickly invite a drink. Individuals are always willing to make a contribution. When you don't have plans early in the day, you engage in binge consumption of your favourite TV shows. Your buddies always start checking in late in the afternoon. Once in a while, you decide and explore the city. The leafy suburbs are clean and the sidewalks are lonely. Your eyes consume with avarice the green leaves above and the air is like a soft kiss from the winter.

Pedestrians are sparse here, easy to count as they strut and mind their own business. Residents have a preference for cars. They reign the streetscape. Gleaming Ubers, polished SUVs, and spotless vans glide smoothly down the roads. Transportation is stylish and pristine. The absence of matatus or buses is hardly felt. Why bother when one has a fleet of several cars, each brimming with fuel, at their disposal? As they say "Style is a given, luxury an expectation."

You reassure yourself that one day, wealth will be yours. You can't help but dream of one day acquiring such a grand standalone residence. In these compounds, only the lush trees and towering walls are visible from the outside. Rarely do you see the magnificent and imposing structure behind the walls. They remain a mystery, glimpsed occasionally when a guard swings open the gate and the grandeur reveals itself with solemn exuberance.

As a bachelor, Sundays are meant for recovery. Saturdays are filled with a lot of spontaneity. You may step out early in the day and return at dawn the following day. They are planless days. Often, you may find yourself swept up in the vibrant atmosphere of a club. And the hype in such an environment is liberating. It's easy to get caught in the revelry, drinking merrily and letting loose. You drink like a fish and relieve yourself like an elephant.

Clubs are the best places to find a randy damsel. One who can join in the fun and tag along after a few pints and loose vibes. If you find a naive lass, she is as easy as ABC. The night is mixed with unpredictability and a trial-and-error affair that involves finding someone interesting. In the process, you gather so many numbers, some that will never be dialled. As a caveat, you ensure mutual consent and verify that she is of legal age by double-checking her credentials via Safaricom Mpesa. Things always go down south quickly as the night winds down, and soon you’re in an Uber, heading to a fast-food spot because a bite to eat helps lessen the hangover that awaits.

Before you engage in the devil dance, you ensure you wrap yourself in armour. You never know who has the big disease on these streets. Sometimes everything may be fine but when you arrive, consent is denied. It is a sting that is sharper than a bee's. You are forced to beg but they echo into the void. She becomes deaf to your demands. Her decision is resolute. Like a man, you swallow your pride. You don't want a Diddy moment years down the line. You've heard stories of men pushing too far or kicking someone out into the night, but that’s not your cup of tea. That kind of pressure isn’t for you. When denied, step back with grace. Ukinyimwa nyimika.

Lonely nights have become a routine. Since you are not in any tumultuous relationship with a daughter of Jezebel, you find intimacy in a laid-back dating life. Out there, a lady you hope to build a long-term union with exists. A couple of times you call each other and talk about your future together. But a part of you is still envious of losing your freedom to someone else. The thought stirs a sense of reluctance within you. You have consciously decided that her visit will be brief then leave for her place. You cherish the autonomy of solitude.

P/S: The original idea was conceived and refined with the help of Chatbots.

Hasta La Vista Baby.

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Self-deception

Lies make the world a better place, sometimes. Let me explain. We live in a world that is full of deceit, low on empathy and an abundance of selfishness, which is seen as a virtue rather than a vice, just to name but a few. That being the case, the world is still a better place. As humans, we are tasked with making it much better. Better than we found it. To make it morally sound and just. Make it work for us and the future generation. Upholding common decency and coming up with a treatise that holds up in theory and practically. 

Back in high school, our principal used to tell us, 'You have to make your heaven here on earth.' A perspective that was shaped after his maiden trip to New Zealand. He saw firsthand how the country was flourishing. The streets were clean. The housing was orderly and well-executed. The systems were working and no miscreants were on the streets asking for alms. The picture painted was a society that is efficient and functioning as planned. 

As a visitor, you are never shown the other side of the story. Rarely do you find an opportunity to exploit the places that give a different impression of the country? Instead, you are taken to areas with beautiful scenery to spend time and money and savour life's best. After all, even those who sell slum tourism do it because of the material gain. 

Not much is documented about countries like New Zealand. Rarely do you find individuals visiting the island because they have yet to prioritise tourism and visibility. Instead, like the Inuit, they have kept their country closely knit. I am biased, to say the least, the much I know about New Zealand is limited. What comes to mind is the Māori All Blacks Rugby team. Other than rugby, I have no idea what the country excels in, though it is developed. 

A cousin asked if Western European nations were rich because they used resources from different continents. New Zealand is a developed country because they decided to get their act right. So many factors can be attributable to the lack of development in African countries, but I would pinpoint one of it- lies. The kind of deception that we are entwined in is just amazing. The president lies to win a political seat. People lie to win deals and we have accepted it as part of our culture. Whoever can craft the best lie and convince the other party that he can deliver will win the deal. 

The culture of dishonesty has become a gem. Anyone with the moniker 'fundi' is considered a liar. Yet they have accepted the tag because society has made them inclined to lie. You go to a cobbler to drop off a shoe for repair and the man will tell you to go back at a certain time to find it ready. When you return, that is when he remembers that your shoe needs to be fixed. 

A certain chap once told me that if you find yourself repairing any item, be it clothes, a pair of shoes or a gadget, then it's high time to donate it to someone needy. 

I asked him 'Now that my pair of jeans is slightly torn at the pocket and I have three pairs, should I donate it to charity?' He replied 'Absolutely. Once you donate it, you give yourself a chance to refresh your wardrobe. The same applies to shoes. Don't take them to the cobbler if you can buy a new pair. Repair then donate to charity.' 

I saw the sense in his argument because it was valid to an extent. Most of us hold onto items we do not need. For instance, I have two wallets. The cousin who asked me about the issue of development wanted one. I told him to give me some money for it. Since he is a campus student, he could not afford a dollar, which we normally equate to 100 bob though it has since appreciated or inflated depending on your point of view to 130 or thereabouts. I still have the wallets though I only need one. 

I rarely carry wallets because I rely on mobile money for payments. If one day I happen to go to an office that requires a physical identity card, I may be denied entry because of not bringing it along. 

A couple of times, I pondered about the issue of worn-out and defaced items I no longer need. Once, a relative visited and I offered my unused monitor and its outdated processor. I asked if he needed them because they were gathering dust in the house. He quickly accepted them after confirming they could still work. I also gave him an old home theatre because lately, I don't love loud music. My ears feel clogged when I listen to loud music. At a certain age, it makes sense to listen to loud music. Solitude has made me prefer quiet environments. 

The sound of silence fills me with utmost ease. That's the only way I process ideas that need to be acted on later is in silence. The concatenation of ideas can only be fine-tuned if they sound cogent. And you tailor the thoughts well in silence when weaved into a silken thread that results in something tangible. Not that I hate owning such devices. They are simply distracting. Once I start listening to music or watching a movie, I get absorbed to the extent I may lose track of what I had planned to undertake.

You may have told yourself that you are going to cover a certain online course, but you don't do so because you don't want to push yourself to do what would develop you. It is about the lies. Self-deception is with us. Times on end, I have told myself that I shall be accountable to myself. The whole idea is to ensure that I achieve what I had planned to do. Some are simple tasks when seen from a layman's lens flare. Like waking up and spreading the bed. Brushing the teeth, showering. And then there are other medium-intensive tasks like sitting down to pen an article. 

I lack discipline when it comes to what I am doing. At some point, I told myself that I would be having my blog post ready by Thursday so that all I do before uploading it is edit and fine-tune it. Well, I have not managed to achieve that dream. The kind of entanglement I get absorbed in. I sometimes feel I need to have a personal assistant to help with prioritizing my schedule. And it comes with penalties for not undertaking certain tasks. 

It's easier said than done. We rarely want to be controlled. But it is also through control that you can be able to achieve results. Like I had intimated in a previous post, I would want to avoid sipping alcohol because it robs me of a lot of important free and activity time. With a good assistant, a human one and not a digital one, I can be held responsible. I can be reminded that, by a given time, I need to have presented my blog post. I need to have covered a certain course and so on and so forth. So many to-do tasks are gathering dust and a layer of cobweb has formed over them because I normally say, 'Í will do it but I don't.'

Hasta La Vista, Baby.

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A bus ride

I prefer window seats when I travel. They usually offer ambient and mediative panorama as the journey progresses into the lush and verdant countryside away from the bustling and polluted city life. The visual empathy that comes with watching the changing terrain, the clouds blossoming and the sky turning azure offers an intimate connection with the surrounding flora and fauna. It's an enchanting experience full of joyful memories that unfold like chapters of a cherished novel.

Once in a while, I hop on a bus to take a trip from the city to the tiny hamlet where my ancestors roam free. Most often, it feels good to travel when the weather is fine and just right. When the sun is soft and warm, and a cool breeze wafts in the air. It usually feels like a movie because of the serene scenery and aesthetic allure. At some point, you will find yourself lulling in a peaceful slumber. The voyage is normally cinematic and therapeutic. Only movie lovers are acquainted with these familiar sensations.

I enjoy the convenience of booking a bus when travelling solo. The waiting bay is usually immaculate and the service is persnickety. You avoid the chaotic hubbub of the bus station and enjoy the hustle-free alternative. The bus is reliable, punctual and runs on schedule. You know exactly when it will depart. Time is money. As much as time is money, I cannot afford an air ticket. Despite time's worth, I have not grown richer enough to easily grab an air ticket the way I can quickly board a bus. Talk of financial constraints. Instead, I endured an 8-hour bus ride that would have been a 45-minute flight.

Once on a bus, after getting a physical ticket, I normally march up to my seat and stow away my bag or items in the overhead compartment. I love the reclining nature of the seats. They have plenty of legroom and are comfortable. There is also a small pouch to store a water bottle, a book or essentials for the trip. Though smaller cars are cheaper, they require you to wait until they are fully booked. Waiting can test your patience, especially if the journey is long. Who wants to wait for more than 2 hours, even if it is a faster alternative? When the bus engine roars to life, it is a sign to be prepared for a lengthy and tiring ride. 

The beauty of bus travel is the expansive field of view it offers. You are at an elevated oblique angle. The passing views seem like a rewatched movie. Fields of growing crops stretch across the rural tapestry. Neatly-pruned tea plantations kept as lowly manicured shrubs invite fantasies of pitches where a football match can be played. 

As the bus meanders through the forested expanses, trees rise and dot both sides of the road in infinite patience. Symbolic of nature's artistry free from human interference. Like silent sentinels, the trees patrol the road in a parade-like formation. As the bus passes through, it feels like it’s inspecting a guard of honour. At times, you feel the wheels rhythmically roll over the road, greeting the slopes and the bumpy ride of the uneven landscape. Your thoughts kiss the horizon as you meditate and the mind is liberated from past anxiety. It's a moment of detachment from being in areas you are not used to. And the brain afforded time to drift into a daydream and relax, cradled by the gentle motion of travel. 

The journey on a bus is usually full of memories that transport you back to childhood nostalgia and novelty. The days we would rush to the back seats or even book them in advance. And it meant cherry-picking your seatmate. Someone you could banter with for hours. With such a mate, you could gossip about the couples who broke up and the teachers rumoured to be banging right under your nose. And most obviously you break into a chuckle for some silly, witless joke. 

If you knew the road, you showcased your grasp of the areas, as if a local tour guide. I still don't understand how some individuals can brag about being able to drive certain routes with their eyes closed or even half asleep. I have never been tempted to try that as much as I am familiar with certain roads. However, it's always fun to share stories with others about your previous interactions with certain areas. 

Over the weekend, I travelled to the countryside using a bus. I love the fact that bus companies have made it easy to book your favourite seat online. I love a seat by the window, on the side opposite the driver. It gives the best views. You enjoy watching the winds rustle shrubs and houses with rusted iron roofs pass by.

Another reason I prefer the seat is that it spares me from awkwardly staring at strangers. You might be caught gazing at someone's toes.  Those who remove their shoes and reveal ugly toe nails. At that point, you cannot point it out. If you do, you risk being given a disgruntled look. How do you even start a conversation about ugly nails? You will quickly ruin someone's mood because they may have always thought they have the best feet. Or you can make them squirm uncomfortably because deep down they know.

Travelling alone, there's no telling who you'll end up sitting next to. The beauty of solo travel is the tranquil togetherness associated with being among strangers. You can sink in chilled-out music, and watch the miles slip away. I love it when I am not behind the wheel. My mind drifts into worry when I am the one to drive and it is usually erased upon arrival. It is a normal psychological response that helps me be extra cautious even though I am not a conservative driver. 

I worry a lot about getting fatigued and causing an accident. The fear that some reckless driver will hit me in a head-on collision or from the rear-end. Or the car won't slow down soon enough to safely stop when it is supposed to. That especially applies in the meandering and steep Sachangwan stretch, where you can lose your brakes if you don't drive well. On top of that, the traffic cops are stationed at various points, ready to pull you over for lack of lane discipline, minor car issues, or overspeeding. The mixture of worries eases when I focus on the road ahead. 

However, when I know I am being driven by a professional driver who is used to long distances, my heart is at peace. I enjoy steady and moderate speed. Rarely do they overspeed to the point where an oncoming car is forced onto the curb to avoid a collision. You don't find yourself silently praying or  murmuring "This speed is crazy." When I am in a car and one is overspeeding, I am always on the edge, terrified as fuck and tense as much as I may not show it. It's not comfortable at all. 

As long as you are not in control of the situation, it will be pretty scary. At least some long-haul bus drivers are never in a hurry. They are after ensuring safe arrival—arriving alive. I am sure they have been educated on the dangers of overspeeding. They are usually in control. Here, I am talking about bus companies that operate like a body corporate and have proper structures to ensure that all the staff is vetted before they are allowed to carry passengers.

A long journey does not guarantee that you will be awake the entire time. At some point, the lass seated next to you may doze off and lean on your shoulders as a pillow. What do you do when someone decides to lean on you? If I feel uncomfortable, I adjust myself. To gently alert her that she did not pay for bed space on my shoulders as part of her ticket. At least, you subtly reclaim your personal space without making her uneasy.

Before long, the bus arrives and you have alight and hop on a motorbike to your humble village home. Your back aches and the rumbly untarmacked roads make it worse. Oblivious to your discomfort the rider is busy engaging you in stories of how the local politicians have not seen it fit to tarmac the road. They pilfered the money allocated to its tarmacking. At least, you arrive safe and sound. Upon arrival, you had to remove scabs of mud from your trousers. Thanks to the rain,  you had to walk for a section the motorbike could not cruise through.

Hasta La Vista Baby.

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When you try to quit

Showering early in the morning helps the mind and body revitalise. I ensure I do that early when I wake up. Once I have showered, I can face the day like a champion. Some victories are won, others are lost. Albeit, life goes on. You cannot win all battles. Some are as easy as ABC. Others are fairly difficult. Some are very difficult. I struggle with so many battles. Those won are worth celebrating. Of those in progress, some will be won and others lost.

I have been struggling being sobber for the past two months. I had given myself a target of around 100 days. It never was fruitful. Within a week, I was back to drinking what I wanted to keep off from. How do former drunkards completely quit? Obviously, there is the issue of association. You quit hanging out with friends who are indulging. Then you reduce your weekly consumption. 

One of the measures I had put in place was to reduce consumption to the extent that I saved the amount that I should have consumed. Within a week of starting the fast, I found myself among people drinking. If you are hanging out with people who are drinking and you are not, you look like the odd one out. It should be known that you do not always drink alcohol. If you are trying to avoid it, like a sect, those who religiously engage in it will not allow you to. It is a bold decision to quit alcohol.

Have I quit? Nope! I wanted to take a break but I was incapable of doing it. The best I could do was quickly fall prey. Once you find yourself in the company of those who drink, the best you can do is to avoid drinking and come up with an excuse that you are on drugs. 

A friend of mine who was a heavy consumer of alcohol once went to see a medic and was told to avoid alcohol because he had improper fat deposits in his body. Well, the medic he consulted was wrong. He decided to seek a second opinion because he was a daily drinker. The second advice quickly made him return to drinking. The medic examined him and saw no reason why he should not drink.

When I decided to take a brak, I thought it was going to be easy. The first week, I was able to avoid it until I travelled with an uncle who loves indulging. I took the drivers seat and avoid ale as much as possible pretending that I cannot multi task. It was easy to avoid ale until we met with other people at a certain bistro where alcohol was flowing freely. I went for fruit juice and drunk it until we went home. Home was around 30 miles from where we were drinking.

I felt like a hero. That I had not drunk made me feel good. It was the start of a 100 day period that was materialize with a few goodies. Among them was the ability to save the amount that I drink on a weekly basis. It was mostly because I am a social drinker. I thought I could put the amount into a kitty. Then there was the health and medical benefits. I would not be waking up with headaches that had a stinging effect. When it came to time. I would sleep at during the day.

There is a lot of precious time wastage associated with alcohol. You even become full of story za jaba. The urbane calls them KhatGPT. If you waste around 10 hours of drinking with the excuse that you are socialising, then you always end up wasting more sleep time. What you could have probably done is pushed forward or disregarded because you are drunk like a skunk.

Initially, I had given myself a certain caveat: I would always ensure I was in the house by 12 am. If I were out there, that was basically my target. Hence by 11 pm, if I was supposed to take a cab, drive back,  or walk back to the house, then that is what I would have done. The 12 am rule was quickly broken because I would arrive later than that time. If I went to a company event, then that would happen. There is usually the party after party.

When it comes to the 100-day journey, I managed a week of sobriety. After that, because all the people I interact with are heavy on ale, I was enticed to go back. Did I decline? Tricky. I cannot say I was on drugs because I have been healthy throughout the year. One day, I will quit for a hundred days or maybe for the rest of my life. At the moment, I am taking it easy. 

Hasta La Vista Baby

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Breaking a sweat

Sweating is one of the best ways to flush out toxins from the excretory system. It helps maintain your temperature and, therefore, a healthy lifestyle. When salty drops run down the face, it means that you have engaged in an activity that is blowing a kiss of life into the body. I am not implying sweating because it is hot outside. I mean the glow as a result of physical exertion, most probably training. Being in an area with sweltering heat normally triggers sweating. However, it's a better way to discover the type of environment your body is conditioned to acclimate to.

Exercising remains the best way to invigorate the body and induce a healthy sweat. Yet, the mere thought of working out causes the body to instinctively cringe and involuntarily shudder. It is rarely an activity you approach with fervent zeal and enthusiasm. Very few can transform working out from being a daunting task into a rewarding ritual that makes the body look forward to such a positive experience.

Ideally, you force your body to go through the torture and discomfort associated with physical exercises. Even simple exercises like raising your arms can be challenging if you are not used to them. It may appear simple to hold your hands aloft for 2 minutes until you have to start progressing from easy to extra strenuous versions that add complexity. 

If you increase the number of repetitions and sets, then your body automatically ignites that burning sensation, which signals the onset of fatigue. It is normally a fiery sensation that builds muscle strength and endurance. Over time, you adapt and become more resilient. It is wise to make small changes over time. Do not expect to achieve it all at once. Evolve your habits to suit what you have immersed yourself in. However, if you make the mistake of forgoing consistency, you will easily regress.

Once in a while, I exercise because I sit a lot. In a day, I spend close to 12 hours seated. I could be working to make money or engage in other hobbies that involve sitting, like writing or reading. The two hobbies are closely linked and have a strong correlation. Therefore, I allocate a lot of time to them. Luckily, I can sharpen my mind and strengthen my mental muscular memory in bed. 

I normally flip through my phone or a read book. I prefer reading eBooks hence my phone is the one-stop shop for perusal. Currently, I have a few physical books. But I plan to increase my collection in the coming months. That said, it has never crossed my mind that I should go to a bookshop or even order some online.

While reading can be done in bed, writing requires a chair and desk to candidly engage in. Asked, I spend more time reading. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night because my sleep is disrupted because of a salivary chock, a cough or an impending pee. If I have not fallen back to sleep after thirty minutes, I usually turn to reading blogs. 

What works best is skimming through a book. Some sites offer free eBooks, provided you subscribe and become a platform member. As usual, the websites take advantage of your data and use it to their advantage to tailor advertisements that algorithms think suit your age, gender, and all other traits that they deduce from your profile given the kind of books you read. Of course, I clear cookies, cache, and web history after a while to avoid being marketed products that lead to frivolous purchases.

I often end up lousy and lethargic while indulging in the two hobbies. Fortunately, my body tends to signal that I should get moving to relieve the buildup of tension. Naturally, the body becomes clenched and tensed because of the sedentary and indoorsy lifestyle. My daily routine is simple: I wake up, brush my teeth, and shower. Then dive into the day. Subtly, if you work from home, like yours truly, there is a high likelihood you may get caught up in tasks that stretch for long without pausing for a breather.

That is where a smart band comes in handy. Depending on your lifestyle, after every 1 or two hours, you get a gentle reminder to be up and about. When you have been in the same state for a long time, you might become stiff due to prolonged inertia. That is why a band comes with ingenuous nudges to encourage you to stretch and stay limber.

One of the regions in the body that usually ends up in pain is the lower back. If you are not in a job that involves a lot of sitting, then stand is your posture. Standing is beneficial. You rarely end up in pain because at some point, you will walk.

That cannot be said of sitting. It is easy to forget to get up and move when I am busy involved in a task that occupies so much of my time. I normally suffer from lower back pains, and sometimes, I just overlook the issue because I see no need to work on the body. When I sit down to read, I have come up a strategy in where I do around 50 pages in one hour. Sometimes, depending on my mood, it can stretch to an hour and a half. Ideally, if I spend three hours reading, I do not notice that I was absorbed in the activity. 

Unfortunately, writing and reading occupy so much of my time to the  extent thatI forget that I need to stretch my body. I love lower back stretches because they are less intensive and help promote cardiovascular healing while strengthening the core. Exercises like body tilts, cobra pose, child pose, planks, bird dog pose and other exercises have come in handy lately. They help melt away stress, and you feel revitalized. The bridge helps with lowering back pain. It stabilizes the spine and delivers relief from discomfort in the strained area.

If you do not incorporate a workout regimen, you may end up having a slight stoop. You never notice that the body is in distress because you sit down longer than usual. No wonder there are mirrors in gyms to remind you to shape up. What I love about the exercises is that they are freely posted on various platforms. If you are a fitness buff, you can easily follow your preferred fitness influencer to keep fit. Alternatively, you can join like-minded individuals in the various gyms.

I rely heavily on YouTube for my workouts because it offers an array of exercises. Most exercises are tailored to suit your fitness level or the stage you are in life. You may opt for beginner-friendly exercises and then gradually advance to pro exercises. However, it is easier said than done. Workouts demand dedication and consistency. If you spend most of your time in the house, there is a high chance that you will be discouraged from working out. You might even give up. Few have the discipline to stay on course because you are causing pain. It's wise to join others. Being part of a group helps with motivation since you are not alone.

The results are what sometimes keep me going strong. After the pandemic, most jobs that did not involve meeting clients directly could be done from home. I have been working from home since. I have never looked back because it has offered me a chance to engage in what I love doing beyond the job I am paid for monthly. 

A self-employed chap once told me he cannot imagine being paid only 12 times in a year. Which is what I go through yearly. As a salaried employee, when you are financially stretched, you have to wait till the end of the month for your next paycheck. Meanwhile, depending on how his business operates, someone like him likely earns money more frequently—sometimes even hourly. Not forgetting that he charges depending on the customer. Sometimes I envy him. Take an Uber driver, for instance, turning up at the right location guarantees income, a privilege I don't have.

During the pandemic, I can recall I gained weight in all the wrong areas. I had massive adipose deposits around the belly, which made it hard to walk the way I once did. Even 5000 steps would leave me sweating as if I had been trapped up in a sudden downpour. That was the turning point that spurred my erratic fitness journey.

Along the way, my body regained its former shape. Like every journey, life is full of ups and downs. I have to work very hard because I have a pot belly. I used to do exercises that involved cutting down weight. Presently, I am fit judging by my body shape. However, when it comes to yoga-like exercises, that is where I draw the line.

Hasta La Vista, Baby.

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The Time Waster's Giddy

Is it true that those who keep time and effectively manage it succeed? Sometimes, I yearn to be occupied in an activity with a deeper sense of engagement so that the time invested has meaningful returns as opposed to feeling like what I undertook offers little to no substantial value. 

Unfortunately, we have been programmed to believe that it is only worth pursuing if it has a monetary reward. It's a common misconception which borders on being realistic. Nonetheless, an activity should not come with overwhelming fatigue to the extent you start feeling like burnout is a badge of honour. You end up with dour expression, and become a humourless fanatic. Weariness can sometimes be misconstrued as a sign of dedication, yet it deprives you of certain tenets. 

It may be at your own volition or external forces given the circumstances you are in. When you are personally motivated, you don't feel used because it is purposeful, but when it's external, you may question why you are into what you are doing if at all it does not align with your expected outcome. What's usually the consolation at the end of the day is "Anything for money."

At times, you may engage in very challenging and debilitating endeavours that have no ready answers or results. The ones that occupy your mind and push you to find a solution. You consume a considerable amount of time doing research and getting to the bottom of an issue. 

In such a case, there are two things involved. You can either give up and stop or be relentless and successful. When you give up, like a wounded lion you tap out. The converse is that when you solve the problem at hand after struggle, you get excited and like the Greek legend Archimedes start jumping up and down as if in a "Eureka" moment. It's a fleeting rush of victory, one to be cherished, though short-lived.

One of the drawbacks I normally have is that of being a timekeeper. No matter how hard I try to keep time and be nudged on what I have planned for the day, I always seem to fall short. The difference between success and mediocrity is the effective use of time on tasks that are going to help you grow and shape the kind of future you envision. The unfortunate bit in life is that there is an avalanche and flurry of constantly evolving details that bombard us daily because the world is constantly transitioning with new needs. 

Why don't I seem to get it right? I normally ask myself. If one day I get my acts in order I will be jubilant like a defender who has just scored the winning goal to help the team lift the coveted trophy that is at stake. The kind of abundant joy and exhilaration, so immense. 

It is usually an emotional moment for the team and those involved in the game including the fans who also shed tears of pure happiness because they have secured another silverware addition to their gleaming cabinets to represent their successful streak in the sport. By the way, why are trophies called silverware? Yet the boots and gloves given to players have the moniker "golden"?

Sportsmen spend a huge chunk of their time training to be physically fit for the various games they engage in. They engage in star-encumbered preparations. The number of hours that one takes to hone a skill is usually not commensurate with the brief time one takes to display that you are a professional who deserves all the flowers. 

The point where you go to the Colosseum and the audience is roaring your name and waiting with bated breath for you to race, grapple or showcase the numerous talents that can be witnessed. The anticipation is usually palpable, and every eye is on you waiting for the spectacle to unfold. Other than turning up to grace an occasion, you also need to be mentally prepared to win. Because those you are competing with are also equally good. The strategy you will put in place will be the one that assists you in becoming the best among the rest.

Sometimes, I wish I was as prepared as an athlete on the track ready to face a race at the Olympic finals. Where notable contenders have been sieved out and only the best are given a chance to showcase to the world what material they are made up of. They have withered all the tribulations and finally, they get to show their prowess. 

One of the problems I usually struggle with is the issue of distractions. They are a big deal and as much as I try to remain focused, I sometimes end up unable to achieve that which I intended to deliver on. As opposed to being the Olympian on the world stage whose only worry is how to win a medal, my worry stems from how I will make good use of the time on my sleeves to be able to achieve what I have always aspired to do. 

Like everyone else, I have 24 hours that should have been used to move from level one to two. They say it's the time you put into a task that matters. Some individuals are naturally gifted and they are in the outliers category. What they do does not require so much time in terms of preparation. They jump into the activity and deliver with so much finesse and effortless precision. They are the S I unit of reference. They easily attract the cameras and the lens glare. Their opinions are sort because of what they bring to the table. They add value and what they do is appreciated. Then there is us. The majority remain unfettered and unbridled.

As opposed to those who manage their time well, I don't manage mine the way I would have wanted to. I have a lot of time-wasters including but not limited to multitasking, interruptions and screen time. I can spend hours on end watching or reading content created by individuals online. 

The screen can be my phone or my laptop because they are the gadgets that I constantly interact with when am lonely. I think I spend a minimum of 12 a day behind a screen on a normal weekday. Being a work-from-home chap, I have to deliver 8 hours to the employer. Then there are another four hours that I spend intermittently on the phone and laptop. 

There are times that I wake up in the middle of the night and have lost sleep, instead of waiting for sleep to naturally come back by being at peace, I pick up my phone and start scrolling through online content to be abreast with what is happening in the world. I am not a fan of TikTok because I know its addictive nature. 

Most love it because it has content created to suit your pastime. On my part, I normally visit Google Chrome to read a variety of generalist stories because it is a sea that has attention-grabbing stories to read well curated for my personality. The thumbnails on Google Chrome are my first stop point for information. 

Damn, the way the headlines are creatively crafted means they are thirst traps and irresistible click baits and like a magnet they draw my attention to what Google thinks I need to read. The crawlers or algorithms on my timeline or social feed have been cleverly programmed to bring my way stories that easily grab my attention and provoke my curiosity to explore further. 

I hate the way the digital crawlers keep my cache and cookies and then determine the kind of content that resonates well with what I have been sifting through online. They spark interest in certain articles that am interested in and encourage me to click. The Internet has mind control in it, they ransact your brain and you have no control over it.  Before long, there is another link I need to click and once I am through, I look for another link that I can quickly skim through to find the kind of story that promises an intriguing read. 

The unfortunate bit about the stories is that I quickly forget about them after a short period. It's this kind of transient memory that I struggle with. The use-it-lose-it quality. I never seem to store information long enough in my mind. On the flip side, it helps with the issue of new information uptake because the brain does not have to store content long enough. Some parts of my brain end up forever locked. Content will be stored as a cache and then vanish over time even if I don't clear what's in my mind. 

While there are times I find juicy information that can be used to engage in banter with other individuals, most of the time they just benefit individuals who wrote them because they are interested in traffic to their website. As long as they can be able to use the platform as an avenue to attract folks, they can gain from endorsements, ads and sponsors who are interested in individuals because the target has always been humans.

Hasta La Vista, Baby.

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When you are uneasy

We usually underestimate the value that trust plays in life. It is based on trust that a system will work how it was supposed to deliver results. Unfortunately, the world is full of very many individuals who are not straightforward and they have hidden agendas at the back of their minds. I have been a victim of being conned by individuals I had trust in. 

I remember a few years ago when I had just joined the job market, I was inducted into what is called due diligence which one needs to do before trusting a party that you are dealing with. Sometimes we normally take for granted the issue of due diligence because we don't know about it or if we know, we probably assume or exercise it. Fortunately, the government has come up with many mechanisms aimed at safeguarding us against individuals who are after reaping from where they did not sow.

As much as there are measures have been put in place to rid the system of those trying to be deviant and engage in criminal behaviour, the fact remains that systems and measures put in place will still have faults. There are existential loopholes in virtually every other system that has been built and it is those who actively use it are the ones who can be able to detect the leakages that are in it.

A couple of weeks ago I was engaging a certain aunt of mine regarding the products that they used to supply and she told me about things that companies do to be in business that are against the moral and ethical principles as much as they may be lawful. For instance, when you go to a supermarket, there is a high likelihood you will pick the product that is on the shelf displayed on the front row. The product may have stayed longer in the stores and to avoid the inventory still having it in the records, it may even be given a discount to make a sale on it. As a customer, you will be excited to buy it yet the supermarket wants to get rid of the product because there is a need to bring in new products.

In such a case, as long as you do not check the expiry date of the product, you may end up buying what the supermarket wanted to get rid of. On your part, because you have no idea of what you are buying, you will assume that the product is legit.

We all trust that what we are buying is usually going to live up to the standards that we have accorded them. Yet, as much as we trust, others are having their fingers crossed that you will not find out what has taken place in terms of the behind-the-scenes machinations they might engage in. As much as we have individuals who check to ensure that products meet the minimum standard, the fact remains that compliance is usually done only on a subset or sample and not the whole population. 

The issue of trust brings in trustworthiness which has to do with reliability, credibility and the dependability that a certain individual will keep their end of the promise. I have met a sly individual, those who trick and exploit your kindness for weakness. They take advantage of your situation because they have superior information over you. 

Few of us can walk the talk when placed in a situation that requires that. Most of us are into talking the talk and when put to task, we fail to show cause when subjected to situations that require proof.

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A Promise is a Debt

Imagine that you are in the middle of an important activity, then suddenly you receive an unexpected call. The caller is oblivious to your engagement but still seeks your indulgence. However, you have a strong preference for solitude because you can focus 100% on the task at hand and avoid unnecessary interactions. Just as I started to pen this post, I received a call but went ahead and picked it up because I knew it would be brief. Forgive my manners. Upon reflection, I think I am usually the victim of my creation, in particular the phone, with which I spend the most time. Frequently, it would have been safe to stick to some simple precautionary measures like being in "Do not disturb" mode. I would have eliminated callers who wanted to engage me at such a critical time. Last week, we went to celebrate the birthday of a friend who was commemorating his golden jubilee. I regret not asking him how it feels to mark that important milestone. I mean he had done half a century on this earth. When you are in your mid-thirties, like yours truly, you often think that getting to be a fifty-year-old is quite some distance. Yet, time flies so fast you wonder how those grey hairs sprouted faster than sea weeds. Something about life is that it teaches us to slow down and take it easy. We are usually in haste for practically no reason. Everyone who met the 'birthday boy' couldn't help but remark how he had aged gracefully. His visage looked youthful tantamount to a chap in his thirties. I am tempted to say that he aged like fine whiskey. He loves rare whiskey, nope. He just has a preference for it as opposed to other liquor brands. He is an easygoing guy, loves hanging out, and rocks a bald head. He is without a hint of snobbery and has an authentic demeanour that sets him apart from some of his peers. Unlike some chaps who upon getting to a certain age adopt an air of entitlement, he was different. His approachable mien and genuine character easily makes you feel at home in his presence. Discussing personalities is not usually my forte. Yet, as with any other person, everyone usually has a weakness. I first met this chap a decade ago. Back then, he owned a modest little pub. I thought that he was a regular John. Someone we'd refer to colloquially as 'Japap.' He was quite adept in manoeuvring the gruffy and squally street life. Still, he was also book smart and sharp, knowing how to navigate the complexities of the corporate world. He had unique and unconventional ways which he perfected in his quest to earn a living.

Let's call him Ken for the sake of this narrative. Because Ken is a short, memorable, three-letter name with a single syllable. Ken is like a sniffer dog. He quickly grabs an opportunity when he sees one. And he not only seizes such chances but ensures he maximizes their potential fully. Ken had asked my friend and I to help organise a birthday for him at a local joint capable of accomodating him and his friends. Having 15 years of experience in nightlife and club leisure, I felt like we needed to show the guy how things are done on the other side of life. He needed to trade in his rustic Kienyeji-style set up for a cosy and sophisticated setting somewhere uptown and urbane.

As is the norm and standard procedure of our operation, the celebrant is usually required to provide a budget. In return, we provide him with a show stopper. Even if he wants to indulge in something wild like the devil's dance with wasp-waisted damsels with a big booty, we can always arrange an unforgettable experience for an extra fee. Though, to be honest, we've never done that extra bit.

You see, the guest list is limited to a trusted inner circle because things can take an unexpected turn. Chaps like Ken, who run pubs, tend to have an extensive network of friends who might come with unprecedented expectations that can be overwhelming when on a budget.

To cut the long story short, Ken ended up disappointing us so badly he had to atone for his sins later on. He had committed to a day of indulgence, which was to include locating a venue for a preliminary strategy gathering prior to the main party. Unfortunately, this did not materialize. It could be that we also disappointed him.

The Whatsapp group we had created for coordinating the ceremony failed to gain momentum—it was dead on arrival. The individuals whose contact details we had collected for invitation were also non-committal. Their lack of commitment killed the group spirit. At some age, individuals feel like they have made it in life and they do not like to be instructed on how to go about their life choices.

Come to think of it, why do we get emotional when we are told or realize that a certain expectation won't be fulfilled? From the way that Ken was behaving, it was apparent that he could not be trusted. He was a very cagey man. He was the kind we term as a finicky character. The chap who will overpromise but when it comes to delivering, that is where the rubber meets the road. That's when the treads realize that the road is not often that smooth because the surface wears out depending on the way the road was built.

Although Ken never fulfilled his promise, he went ahead and joined his peers. They were willing to buy drinks and have fun in their own unique way. Had I been in the same position, I would have opted to avoid spending at all costs. Guess it is the economist in me that loves frugality. He later claimed that his friends treated him to five bottles of Martel VSOP.

However, we remained skeptical because when we asked him to present pictorial evidence to substantiate the claim that he was indeed showered with Cognac. Who even came with the idea that individuals need to be poured on drink? He declined to show proof. I mean we know his fondness for whiskey.

At the end of the day, when a chance presents itself, we want an easy way out. What's more, it could be that Ken enjoyed himself in the newfound company. I cannot blame him because we were not good salesmen to present a compelling case that our party was going to meet his standards.

The next day, post the party, Ken invited us to his pub where we indulged in fine whiskey. He wanted to redeem himself. It was a way for atoning his sins of ommission and commision. At least he bought a distinguished label. A brand that when you sip, leaves a smooth sensation with a rich oak wooden taste. By now you know the liquor am talking about. And the drink glides down your throat leaving you pleasantly inebriated. But as always it was a trap. Once you have finished the first free drink, you are forced to buy another drink in his tavern.

Hasta La Vista Baby.

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Never Give Up

In the recent past, I have been struggling to concentrate. I can't seem to create a hymn out of words that can become a gentle melody. The kind of genre that resonates profoundly with immense appreciation like the works of medieval composers whose lyrical masterpieces are timeless and transcend generations. The sort of aria that has lyrical beauty and harmonic richness, an intimate connection is subtly created. The etudes that mutely leave your heart palpitated in serendipity. You are cast upon your chair and spellbound, feeling the slow thud of your heart transition into an avalanche of emotion. Maybe, it could be the outcome of burnout or the weight of continuous productivity. I have not yet pondered on the root cause. I have no idea whether I am shallow or tardy. Regardless, I deserve to understand the genesis of this mixed feeling that demands testament. 

A few weeks ago, I came across the notion that "Every skilled and talented artiste needs to know the right time to exit the stage lest the performance becomes obnoxious." Consequently, you need to read the mood of your audience to leave a lasting and impactful impression. Winning an audience is normally a hard nut to crack. It's not like a bell that peals as if in ballet shoes and twirls through walls and every other crevice to all and sundry's tender ears. Charming folks require good timing, original ideas, finesse and ease of execution. One day you are a darling, basking in the glow of people's admiration and you feel dazzled about it, the next day you are a villain, chided and scorned by every soul as if you never mattered or what you did is dismissed as utter balderdash. 

Soon new breeds take over, they are always waiting for an opportune moment to strike it while it's hot. They are always lurking in the air like an eagle that has seen its prey but waiting for a ripe moment to pounce. And they don't just take over, they come prepared, having learnt from your failures, strengths, opportunities and threats. They seize opportune moments that present themselves and make their mark. For some, it is a happy-ever-after affair. For others, it's a brief taste of fame that is elusive. It's a fleeting affair synonymous with the one-hit wonders whose success is ephemeral. When they are given a stage to prove themselves, they end up like that chap who hypes his level of capability only to disappoint like nobody's business when it matters the most. Big game talk, null results. You promise the sun but fail to deliver the moon that merely reflects from the sun.

Doing what you cherish is easier said than done. Most of us would love to escape from the tentacles of what is holding us hostage. I, too, wish to do what I love, earn a living and be genuinely happy about it. But I am hesitant. There is that inherent fear that things may never work out. After all, it's not all the time that you dedicate yourself to what you are doing that success is assured. Were it a low-hanging fruit, then it would have been easy to pluck it from the tree, however, it is not. It is a relentless pursuit that is full of ups and downs. It's a treacherous journey that involves so much sacrifice. Somehow, success is eclectic and elusive. You may do everything in the book but it will still slip through the fingers. Nonetheless, there is one instance that will beget that happy-ever-after state. Or it may just never come however much you push and pour yourself into what you are doing. Sometimes, like Nikola Tesla, others will reap the fruits of your labour. Because prophets are seldom appreciated in their hometown. 

Come to think of it, does that happy-ever-after state even exist? At every stage of life, we have to struggle with new challenges. Which forces us have to keep going. Otherwise, you give up and see the hopes and dreams you had evaporate in thin air yet there is something that you could have done about the state. Some days, you will be disappointed and ask yourself questions no one can answer. I sometimes ask myself when the rain started beating me, then quickly realize that I have everything within my control and figured out. Where did I lose the direction I had? Why am I inconsistent with what I am doing? 

Originally, I planned to be astute as much as possible. You know how some random ideas oscillate in the mind, "If I do this, then probably this will happen." Then it turns out that the plans are never on their own. They have to rely on other plans and in light of the changing circumstances end up being obsolete endeavours. Which effectively means they may be overtaken by events and as such inconceivable, often beyond the realm of possibility. Could it be that the world is so cold that it has failed to melt the ice into free-running water? 

Hasta La Vista Baby

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Are You afraid?

Fear of the podium sometimes makes me afraid of facing my woes. As much as I have been able to compose a couple of times, I still get stomach spiders when I sit down behind the screen to pen down my thoughts. I wanted to chicken out into doing this blog post because my creative juice had been punctured. Why am I even afraid yet I don't even have an audience? It's like presenting in an empty hall or the dark. Or I am in my room where I am not supposed to fear because I have no cheering squad or rival haters: the critics and the fence-sitters. But still, I feel like I don't usually get it right in terms of what I am doing. I wish I was spot on, hitting the nail on the head and addressing issues with clarity and fervor. Sometimes I feel like I suffer from some kind of fear that I don't know where it comes from. 

For instance, I would have somehow faced my woes head-on, but I am still beholden to what is holding me from breaking out of my cocoon. The way individuals say that the fear is gone. That does not necessarily apply in my case because I know myself well. What I have since realized is to accept that sometimes I may be hopeful that the future will change, yet it never does. Life is never predictable. Sometimes you are a vibrant fellow, you are tough and looked upon by individuals who look at you as if you are the one who was sent to be their savior. At least, no one has ever seen me in that angle. If at all, I am this guy who is perhaps mellow and quickly develops cold feet. 

I am afraid of many things. I am afraid of the dark yet I have to sleep alone most of the time. I am afraid of doing what I have never done before I love the comfort of the status quo. I even fear approaching people and getting married. Every time I think of marriage, as opposed to bliss, I see it as an obligation that will rob me of my independence and freedom. Many of my age are now happily married. Some complain while others get along with the union perfectly well. To all those who are married and in a perfect or near-perfect relationship devoid of social media brouhaha, you make the world a better place.

I love solitude because I do not have to worry about others who are doing things differently and are equally doing it better. I fear voicing my concerns and normally convince myself that at the end of the day, if I speak out nothing will ever happen as I expected and there will be no change. As a result, I tend to sit on the fence. Which is not what I am supposed to do. I should not be like others who are perfectly at home with the state of affairs even when they are not headed in the right direction. The problem with this state is that you are always afraid to do something controversial. It feels like I am too concerned about other people's feelings because I also want to be a people pleaser. Which makes me want to question myself, "What the hell is wrong with me?"

Every time that I hope that age will bring in new prospects, that is when nothing of that sort happens. Instead, what usually happens is the direction in which life takes is the one in which I have no perfect control. I am the type of person who cannot be decisive when it comes to making up my mind. As much as I am a recluse, I still love other people's company. I fall under the category of ambiverts. Just some with a better proposal and I will be in. If you call me in the middle of the night and convince me that you have my favorite drink as long as it is not a weekday, mimi huyo, I jump onto the bandwagon with so much passion. 

That said, I hate kissing ass. If you expect that I will be your little minion, then that is not my cup of tea. I am highly egotistical in what I normally do. I still have a long way to go to mend that character, but what I usually tell myself is that I don't think that it matters what others think. At the end of the day, everyone is his own man. 

Since I know I am the type of person who is usually afraid in some cases, I usually feel I need to work seriously on this incompetence. It is said that what you fear is what you need to do many times until you are finally able to overcome the fear with so much ease. It becomes a routine that when you look back to, you feel like 'Why was I even afraid.' Yet some of the fears I have are not those that I can be able to address with immediate effect. I still fear going to the gym, yet it is just a few meters from where I live. I have been saying I need to go there to have my body toned and stop having chicken legs but the I still dont have the courage to do so. Reminds me of the fact that the nearer the church the further the heaven. 

Hasta La Vista, Baby

x

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What's Next

What do you do when you lose your train of thought? There comes a time when you have a very interesting and punchy idea that you had thought would be the kicker that you intend to cash on only for it to end up evanscenting in thin air. It happens especially when you are creative and in such a case, you have to either accept the outcome or you sit down and hope that the thought will resurrect from the gabions or gorges that got lost in the medulla. 

Subtly there is always this unrelentless pursuit in life where, once you have solved an issue or a problem, another also comes about because problems compound. For instance, you may intend to pass an exam so you do all it takes to see to it that you study diligently until you finish the examination. Once you have finished that huddle, then another arises of what is next. We are in a maze where there is always something that needs to be solved. And the maze is such that you cannot be able to forgo it. 

A few weeks ago, I happened to have repaired my stalled jalopy that had been lying unattended for the past 8 months and it came with several costs that only a car owner has to endure. Ideally, it is always good when you have to hail a cab or take a matatu. You only have to worry about reaching the final destination with the other obligations falling on the driver or the car owner. 

As usual, when you want to put a broken car back in motion, you have to spend many hours at the grease monkey. Always, you will be told about items that have broken down that need to be repaired. Had I a good camera to capture the moments, I would have done so and started a YouTube channel with all the steps and then hope I start my YouTube journey. You know the way that Youtubers normally say, 'Please like, subscribe, and don't forget to share this video with your friends and enemies because it means a lot to my channel.' I feel like we debase those who spend time and money trying to entertain us with their content that they have spent many hours trying to curate and edit for us busybodies to come and comment on. It's usually a way to get more people watching and then you get more ads and in turn more visibility and earnings.

Youtubers and social media chaps are the new celebrities in our realm. The gadgets urbanites own have made us associate more with those we see on the internet than those we see on traditional media like newspapers, TV, or those we listen to on Radio. I have no time for TV. It drags a lot. And I think the media stations should find a way to accommodate chaps like us because we have since forgotten that they even exist. And because we can easily be swayed by them, it makes sense to find what suits the average chap who is now drawn to the internet. The only time we remember that local media stations exist is when there is a certain important event or occasion that requires us to stay tuned. Otherwise, I think that the media station has been left to rural folk.

At the garage, you have to contend with all manner of people. This especially applies to the blue-collar mechanics who have set up shop just anywhere because they were able to convince the land owner that they are protecting the property from land grabbers because there are chaps who have a high proclivity for land. They can see idle land. In a few days, they will be selling the plot to an unsuspecting buyer because there is always that guy who has money that they want to invest in a meaningful venture. We usually say that people don't have the money yet the reality is, that there are those with more than enough, all they think of is where to invest the amount because they cannot also give it out for free. 

You need to know how to attract money. That is why there are individuals who have decided to go the amoral route of conning gullible individuals who have not done their due diligence have invested in skills aimed at convincing their target audience. Something funny about most investors is the ease with which they are trusting once they think they have found the right person to handle their capital they are willing to invest. Most of the time, we have very since and trustworthy institutions and firms that never swindle their clients. Otherwise, on rare occasions, you have to at some point be a victim of con agents. What I know is that so many individuals have been conned but they have to let go. They do not want to speak out because it can be embarrassing to document your folly. They may not want to go through the rigorous court process because the wheels of justice are sometimes very slow. In most cases, the con agents lure their targets with very irresistible offers to the extent that they cannot be able to resist the temptation of procuring the product being sold. A case in point could be an instance where an iPhone goes for half the price. Since you want the association that comes with owning the gadget, you go ahead and wire money to the recipient who vanishes in thin air upon receiving the deposit.

So much about life anecdotes but at the end of the day, life is structured in such a way that there is usually that which keeps us going. If you own a house, you are required to furnish it. And not just furnish, but you are also forced to ensure that the furniture is modern and classy enough to be in line with the current taste and preferences. Once you finish the house, you need to again maintain it. The compound also needs to look green and there is a whole lot of stuff that you need to do to ensure the place is serene. I mean, once you are done with a certain objective, it will create another that needs to be solved. And then it becomes a circuitous process with nothing but an endless stream of tasks that need to be solved.

Hasta La Vista Baby.

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Success is never predestined

Sometimes I feel like my compositions are just off. My scripts lack honesty and clear focus. I sound like a dick. I struggle with self-doubt and low self-esteem. Furthermore, I thought weekly blogging would reinforce my confidence, but it hasn't. Normally, an abundance of creative imagination results in blunt, concise, and straightforward prose characterized by sexual magnetism and a touch of humor. However, I have yet to find an 'aha moment' and a technique that is casually provocative and mentally enthusing. What turns into an enchanting and beautifully scripted post makes you feel like you have found your inner soul. Soul in the prose. 

I must admit that I lack the ease and ability to spin tales that sound naturally human and charm with emulation because I tend to express myself in abstractions. It does not translate into what I conscientiously craft. Rare are the moments when I muse and reflect deeply on something that is authentic and has never been heard before. Consequently, I end up sounding like the dry prose of a car owner's manual. I bet you know what normally happens to those booklets. Car owners' manuals are seldom perused and internalized to find out the underlying quirks and features that the car has the potential to offer. They are booklets that are overlooked because it is tedious to skim through dense information, even though they have tidbits of knowledge that could be enlightening and educational. I doubt if the "Mitumba" second-hand vehicles sold in Kenya come with the booklet.

Instead of taking time to glance through the manual, you jump straight into driving or, as a passenger, sit comfortably en route to your final destination. Which is valid and perfectly fine. What if we took the time to read the car manuals? Would there have been any difference? Car owner's manual publishers should have curated content that is interesting and enjoyable to read. Maybe use grade-four reading-level language that is easy to comprehend. However, they are typically filled with voluminous content and legalese, use complex language that is devoid of interactive elements, and contain irrelevant information. This leads someone to prefer straightforward advice from salesmen, friends, and relatives on how the car works.

Maybe, I am boring as opposed to seductive. My clarity of thought has no segue and is non-congruent. I have no brevity; hence, I sound like a car owner's manual. My storytelling skills are probably chaotic and lack the emotional spark that ignites interest. I can't consume fiercely and intensely, burn into ashes like a colossal blaze that draws you in. You feel like you have gotten lost in the prose—the way you dream and wake up only to find you are making castles in the air. Waking up after a dream is rarely creative. 

You might be enjoying an erotic dream only to wake up clod in cum or piss. Unfortunately, urinating is among the few dreams that often come true. These are the struggles that afflict. You cannot run away from them. Being average can feel overwhelming. Sometimes, you can showcase brilliance and sage. Other times you grapple with trying to inject insightful realism into a scene in such a way that it impresses. Still, you have to be content even when you lack a unique verbal expression or linguistic flair. Over time, the gibberish will slowly transform into sound, credible content, offering the reader an unequivocal grasp of the subject.

We are surrounded by mediocrity. When you look around, you will realize that we tend to settle for the least, provided we inject minimal effort. We are reluctant to push ourselves to greater heights and avoid mediocrity. Once we have done our part, we leave the onus of decision-making, if the output is viable, in the hands of others. Or, if you were in my shoes, you write crap and cling to the hope that someday, you will be a good writer. The few who pursue excellence by stepping out of their comfort achieve remarkable feats and greatness that we only envy and do nothing about.

There are days when I sit down to pore over the works of renowned authors and feel ashamed of what I have written. I am trying hard to avoid being subpar, but I am not making any inroads. I constantly remind myself that fortune favors the brave and consistent, so I keep on keeping on. I am still in the game. Thank goodness, I am not the type to compare my compositions directly to those of great authors. As an amateur, I prefer to stick to what I know, yearning for an elusive spark that elevates my creativity. But my creative works still lack that special thing that I want them to have. I have ambitions bigger than the input provided, which makes me wonder if I have a mediocre mindset.

From a young age, I was brought up to believe that I was the best in my endeavors. And for a long time, I believed it. Yet, my best does not seem good enough. And that begs the question: Should I strive to eliminate this mediocrity? Of what use! I have always said that failing to plan is planning to fail. Ironically, I fall into the category of chaps who are averse to meticulous planning. I get derailed and forgo excellence because I have settled for comfort. I prefer to have modest competence. I am not as dedicated as someone who secludes himself for a few months to pursue deep work and achieve mastery, so you can't afford to ignore the high-quality content produced. At least, I engage in my pursuits as a hobby and not as a prodigy. It's fun to outpour emotions freely. Provided you set boundaries to avoid being offensive or rattling others in the  way that is piquing.

When you read about successful people, what comes to mind is that they are innate geniuses who are naturally talented and don't have to put in the work that results in success. All they have to do is show up, and voilà, they are a big name with fame and glory. They only find a gap that needs to be filled and do it effortlessly because it is as easy as ABC. Yet, it could be that they put in a humongous amount of work in the past and only have to refine the crap. We see the final output, which is polished and consumable. What we don't see is the number of years it took and the effort and wit of having figured out what works and what does not. Success is never predestined, there is a lot behind the scenes that shapes its outcome.

Time passes in a blur. When you realize you can no longer be successful, you take little interest in pursuing excellence and embrace mediocrity because that is where you find happiness. There is contentment in simplicity. You might work your ass off trying to gain traction, but as I sometimes say, your best effort may not be worthwhile and significant enough. Ergo, you start doing it for fun and become passionate about it. It becomes a hobby that becomes your baby. You have to teach it to wean, crawl, talk, walk, and go through all the phases of life. You stumble, roll over, and then find your footing. If it was meant to be, then it shall blossom. Even though a mustard seed takes longer to grow, once it has grown, it provides shade, and you can hardly remember its humble beginnings as a tiny seed.

Hasta La Vista, Baby.

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A Petty Placid Position

The simplicity of life is in the way we sometimes take for granted the little things we should be grateful for. When you wake up in the morning and your body is tempted to go back to bed because the weather is conducive for another round of slumber. It's a battle that takes place in your mind. It is either you wake up, or amid the homely aroma in your blanket fort, tuck yourself back into sleep as a blessed reward. Sleep is a need, and should have been part of Maslow's hierarchy of physiological and safety needs. It should have been factored among the basic needs. It comes naturally when your body is fatigued. And you can do nothing about it. Yet, as much as it is sweet to be curled up snugging, there comes a time when you have to rise and shine. You may flip-flop many times trying to connect with dawn, but you have to do something- wake up.

We live in an epoch where the average chap is programmed to question what does not make sense. Among the first things that one should do is say a prayer for having seen a new day. I am not deeply religious when it comes to supplication and devotion. My idea of prayer is to mime a few words before sleep and then hope that God in heaven will answer my prayer. Sometimes He answers them, sometimes He says no, and other times He says maybe. I abide by what Blaise Pascal said about God. Believing in him is a probabilistic outcome. If God exists upon death, then if I lived by his word, I will get rewarded. If life comes to an end, which is a sure bet, and God does not exist then it is a win-win situation.

I would say that a majority of individuals are normally religious and believe in God. That applies to most Africans where religion has been an embodiment of our lifestyle. When you talk about faith, atheists and heathens, cannot relate. Atheism is a result of rebellion. In the same way, protestant churches emerged when the Catholic church was the only denomination that existed. Someone studied the bible which remains a bestseller and realized that the teachings and what the priests did were conflicting. It could be they used the church to oppress the common man. That is the same discovery that those who don't believe in God made. Someone realized that we still live even if we don't believe in God. Asian countries have very small populations that believe in God, a choice they made because it suits their lifestyle.

On my part, God's existence is limited to certain aspects of my life. My stand is, that God has always been there, He is the omni of all omni. Nevertheless, I won't say that He has been a determining factor in how I live myself. Certain aspects are devoid of God's intervention. I would say that my daily quests; be it in what I eat, where I want to go, what I think about and so many things in my life have very little of God's influence. Though, I have to acknowledge that I still have to believe that He is my provider. The aspect of seeing another day cannot be taken for granted. I may sound petty but some people never make it to see another day. Some are struggling and facing challenging moments in the hospital and have to rely on medics for medical support, drugs prescribed to bring them back to normalcy, and God to heal or cure them.

Such instances, beseech you to believe that there is a hand of God. It is also the reason why when in some situations, we usually call upon God to take charge. If you are participating in a contest, as much as you may be the best, anxiety may reign and at such a time, you let God do His will. Obviously, if you don't ace the prize the first time, you still have a second and a third to do what you can to improve your chances until you convert the opportunity into a try or you get tired and ship out because you are overtaken by events or find something better. What I usually say is that the best will always be the best. You may be denied what you deserve, but consistency, continuity, and consecution will always favour you. Like the Nigerians say "Go no go shame us." God is the one who you look up to when you are feeling low. He is the one you go to when you are happy and even when things don't work, you trust that he will pacify and make it happen.

One of the things I have lately been diagnostic about is the institution of the church. You cannot divorce religious denominations with God. They have a marital relationship that dates back to very many years. Most of the time, we are told that it is in the church that you find sanctity. You go to petition God with other people. When all of you pray together, that is where the spirit of God is. Your prayers are answered faster because you have come together to request the same thing. Recently, the church transformed from a sanctuary where you go for spiritual nourishment and a place of refuge into an institution that prioritizes finances, extracting whatever little you have under the guise that you are giving to God. It aligns with the prosperity gospel. The wealthy are given a front seat because of their monetary offering which is seen as a sign of favour. When I noticed that I could not cope due to my limited financial ability and a snake in my shallow pockets, I decided to avoid the church. That does not mean I don't trust in God. I still do. Once in a while, when an opportunity to go to church presents itself, I jump on it but I stopped being a regular goer to church.

In the future, things may change and I may decide to go back because the situation is not cast in stone since I stopped attending church frequently then I will not go back. Am a devout Catholic. Being a staunch Catholic is like being a Muslim, you may be seduced by other churches to change your allegiance, and some quickly change the denomination they belong to, but I don't think I will ever switch. I once did but now I know there is no difference. What matters is your faith in God. They say karma is a bitch. What goes around comes back around. One day, I will often be going to church to worship and not be a periodic faithful who waits for Christmas and special occasions to make my way to the church.

Hasta La Vista, Baby.

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