Life will throw and throw and throw and throw. Life will attack you. Sometimes with the good, sometimes with the bad, the beautiful, the ugly, the unforgiving, the enjoyable, the not so enjoyable, the nice, the not so nice et cetera et cetera. And guess what you are allowed to quit, you really are, but you don’t!

In those times when life is doing its thing, you’ll be hit by the why’s and who’s.

Why am I still holding on?

Who am I doing this for?

Why can’t I just let it go?

Who is going to appreciate all this effort?

Until you can answer these vexing questions, it won’t matter if you hold on or not, it’ll be in vain.

And when you have the answers, no chance in hell can life break you. When you understand the purpose for your struggle, it doesn’t matter how hard it gets you know you’re going to make it because whatever gets thrown at you, doesn’t measure up to the strength you have for your purpose. And you live on. You get to fight another day. You get to win. You get to rejoice, you get to celebrate.

The best part of it is that you get to inspire somebody else. Someone who was marred and trampled on. If you can do it, they can too!

You can quit, but you don’t.


Love (or what we tend to think it is,) and other disasters -part two.

Read on.

However all is not lost. One fine holiday you post a ‘swagallicious’ photo of you on facebook and in no time that guy you’ve been eyeing hits the like button and rushes to your inbox before the dust settles on that like button. A hey here and there, some late night chats, flirty comments here and there on every photo you post and in no time contacts are exchanged for further chats. You know the drill. A few weeks down the line he invites you out on a date at a park with a nice bench to sit and watch the sun go down as you talk about life. It’s picture perfect. You notice that on this particular day there’s something different about him; he’s cautious and looks like there’s something on his mind. He’s also really smart dressed in this sheep clothing and cunning hat to complete the look before popping the question: will you be my girl friend? You give an excited yes! And that’s WHEN IT HAPPENS: your first kiss. Leaves you as high as a kite! On that night you sleep on puffy clouds right next to angels singing you a lullaby while playing their harps. At last you join the dating pool. When people talk about my boyfriend this and that, you do have a say in those conversations. You graduated from the spectators club. If only you knew that being a spectator was a myriad times better than being in this relationships ship. It all waxes so well, you’ve never felt happier. You notice that all those love songs that sounded like broken records are actually very deep songs that you can relate to. You fill your playlist with them; most of the songs are from him, sometimes a song every night from him as a dedication during the holidays. Turns out Shakespeare aren’t dumb stuff after all, turns out his pieces are sensible and thou can understand what he speaketh in his poems.
Tragedy is forgetting that after the moon waxes it must wan too. On the next holiday you go back home and after you’ve settled down and eaten all you can, you dial his number excitedly. He picks up alright but his excitement doesn’t match up yours. He sounds “okay”. There’s no “hey babe I missed you so much!” his enthusiasm can be compared to that of a mortuary attendant. During this holiday communication is less and dull and You are the one pushing most of it, but you hold on because he’s probably going through a rough patch you tell yourself, everyone has those days. Since you’re still the smart girl you’ve always been you decide to meet him up to find out what is going on. A meeting is arranged and the day comes and you ask him the question that every girl at one point in their life will ask,
“So where is this relationship headed to?” he looks away.
“Jesse?” now he’s looking at you bewildered like the question was from outer space.
“look, it’s not you, its-“ and right there and then you want to bite his head off literally because you know what he wants to say next and are so disappointed that he chose to follow the cliché. Would a little originality kill him? Certainly you deserve a little more dignity than that. He goes on to tell you how he has been to the doctor and he was told he has blue balls and its either he goes all the way or does nothing at all. It is then that you join the dots as to why all this is happening. It’s unfortunate that you’re wise because sometimes ignorance is bliss. He can’t be with you if you’re not going to give him the cookie. All these doctor shenanigans are probably a report from a doctor alright, a witch doctor to be precise. So all this time he was investing in you was to get returns. Sex returns. It breaks your heart because he was your first love (or what we tend to think it is) and you had given it your all but had chosen to remain pure because your principles dictate that fornication is a sin and you’re not ready for the consequences. You go back home with a very broken heart, it hurts so bad that you want to rip it off your chest just for a while so you can breathe; but you have to put on  a brave façade in front of your mother since you live in ngong hills not Beverly hills’. Telling your mother you have a boyfriend while still in high school would only result to her slapping the daylights out of you. Brevity is your only option. You’ll take this like a man. Only that most of your mornings are occupied with wringing your pillow dry from all the tears it soaked last night. Your playlist is filled with Adele’s songs and your favorite being Toni Braxton’s unbreak my heart. You can sing all its lyrics, including the sighs that Toni interjects with and play all the chords in that song. At this point you are certain that Toni composed that song in readiness for your heartbreak. Looks like your fate was long ago decided and the die was cast way before you could spell the word chinkororo.
It may feel like your heart has wounds that can neither be healed nor stitched. At one point you’ll say you’ve sworn off men. I come bearing good news: you can move on, you will move on. This is a story of many girls out there. That’s how I know that you can move on past this, because it’s part of the motions of every girls’ life. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but it’s going to happen. One day you’ll wake up and realize that the sun looks brighter that day and there’s no sad feeling tugging at your heart strings anymore. You are not the first person to have settled for less so don’t beat yourself up too hard, okay? Just take the lesson, forgive yourself and move on. And no, you haven’t lost the love of your life. I haven’t met this Jesse guy but I can tell you for free that he isn’t the one. How do I know this? I’m a fortune teller and I can see your future. I can also see that if you continue eating all those fries you’ll develop some love handles, and those don’t go so well with a bikini. Okay, I’m not a fortune teller; But I know that such compromises are not because of love. You made the right choice by not giving in to his demands. You dodged a bullet. Many bullets actually. Lets name a few:  you escaped being on  his body count statistics, you escaped the deeper heartache of knowing that you were used and loosed, you escaped not keeping yourself pure till you say I do to the man that the Almighty ordained for you. Above all you escaped wasting more of your precious time with someone whose intentions with you were equal to that of a wolf left in charge of sheep. And no, you weren’t uptight. You never were.  You just knew what you wanted out of life and somehow that got corrupted because sometimes we hear things from close associates and gradually, like tiny seeds, they’re planted and if it happens  long enough,  they start germinating in our heads. These seeds are weeds and they need to be uprooted; and this is why we need to be wary of the company we keep. We’ve all heard the adage that we turn into the five people we hang out with. It’s as true as it can be. Sometimes we have this confidence in ourselves that no one can influence us. Remember they are small tiny seeds, you don’t see it happening, like ships passing in the night silently, you won’t notice it happening but it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. If that’s not convincing enough then let me back it up with the good book. We can never go wrong with it, yes? Now, by quoting the bible I don’t intend to lock out those of other faith, I’m just speaking the language I’m more conversant with. “Do not be deceived, bad company ruins good morals”-1st cor. 15; 33. I’ll leave it at that.

MIRROR, let me ask.


Beautiful beautiful mirror a million questions I’d like to ask if you don’t mind. There is something that is bothering me dear mirror. I don’t know how softly I can put this or any good way I can present it so that you don’t hurt or get angry with me dear one. Notice that even as I speak to you right now, I ain’t looking you in the eye because I don’t know how you’ll react. But either way please let me ask you.

I sit before you every morning as I get ready to begin my day and each evening as I tire from the day’s activities right? Mirror, who is the lady that You show me everyday when I ask you to show me, me? Is that lady me? Is she by any chance named Laurah? Or is it just a random image that You pick to impress me. Why does her left eye and ear seem smaller than the ones to the right? Why does the same apply to her cheeks? Her flaws shout out loudly. People tell me, dear mirror, that I have really good hair. Why don’t I see that in the lady you show me? Hers looks a little unkempt always no matter how well she combs it.
Why does she seem to have less pimples than the network of them I think I have? Every time I feel my face, I feel like I have lots of them. My colleagues say my nose is just fine but why do I feel like that lady has a larger one? Or is it smaller?

Dear mirror, that lady seems extremely focused than I think I am. Look at her eyes, do they exhibit any kind of fear? Just take a good look at her my dear one, does she seem like anything and anybody can hold her down? Isn’t she one of those individuals who will do anything to achieve her dreams? Look at her ideas, look at her goals! Oh my God! Am I that ambitious dear? Am I that fearless? Ain’t I shyer than she is? That lady you show me will take advantage of any pieces of wood lying around aimlessly to build a ladder. A ladder to get her to the top. She doesn’t wait for opportunities to knock at her door! She simply looks closely out her window, sees one and grabs it. She doesn’t wait for an alarm to wake her up, she does before it. She seems like that kind of person. Am I determined like that dear mirror?

Dearest I’m sorry if I’ve implied that you’re perpetually deceitful. I’m sorry if indirectly I called you a liar. If at all I indicated knowingly or unknowingly that you’re a thief in which you steal my true self and reveal only what my mind believes it sees, I’m terribly and sincerely sorry. I love you so much that you’re the biggest and greatest confidant I have. What you know about me now, not anyone else recognizes except God. Not even I do. The secrets you’ve kept and will continue to keep until you break and I decide to respectfully bury you in a trash can, no one else can. But dearest mirror what do you have to say for yourself???