Women Who Won’t Marry & The Losers Who Ask Them.

Greetings from SoHo, Manhattan,New York City. It is Winter over here, so the heater is on, I am in my fuzzy socks while sipping whiskey neat. Heaven knows Bourbon would have come in handy but I shall take it in stride honey, I always do. It’s been long since I journaled, I must admit. I wasn’t really AWOL per se, I just got caught up between wearing panties and running responsibilities. I couldn’t get the best of both worlds so I had to do away with the panties and commit to my responsibility. Tough love.

I am rather intrigued by the happenings of last year (needless to say). Whilst at my ran de vous someone asked , ” Which is better; To lose a lover or to love a loser?”. Hold up! Does Lazy Nancy know such a phrase exists?. Anyways I briskly thought to myself, Love a loser?. For there are moments that cannot be felt twice, like mourning the loss of a loved one.

Remember the 1957 show that starred Audrey Hepburn Titled Love In The Afternoon? Well I fell in love on a Sunday afternoon in October. Nothing out of the ordinary. I just decided to give someone’s son a chance. lol you go Dude! Mad props to you though. You beat my comfortable. Still learning how to maneuver. I heard love is a flower that needs to be cultivated every now and then, well I don’t plan to do the digging , can’t be hoeing around with a hoe, maybe a machete, You dig? Double entendre.
He who marries will have trouble. I believe it is in the Bible 1Cor 7:28. Let me spare you the agony of reading further because the only thing that I know is that I know nothing. However, fancy me writing to you. The only thing standing between a woman and a ring is her damn self. No body fears commitment ,especially women, don’t we all  just fear wasting time especially with a L*? Wait the L word is for loser .Silly.

When is a man considered a loser? And could a woman be a loser too? Walk with me!

I have loved and I have lost. But I ain’t a loser. There is a reason why men do not marry a certain breed of women and there is a very big difference between the men women date and the men women marry. Most women however, marry losers , that’s all they can/could do when the only thing standing between a woman and poverty is a loser.

Most men are losers, loose brains, loose tongues, sticky loose hands, loose libido, loose eyes, loose morals, loose repertoire, loose everything.

Most women however, marry losers but they don’t date them. Maybe I should’ve said. Chivalry isn’t dead some women started settling for a lot less. But some women date losers and marry them because they are NEEDY. They cling to the man even though he beats belittles and rapes them. They will even go ahead and carry an infant for such a loser hoping against hope that they will change the losers one day. Woman, Simma down! You can’t teach a dog how to speak. Throwing caution to the wind. Could the equality rule strike here please? She who dates and marries a loser is also a loser. Since society sees men as losers and women as the misguided lot.

Then there are women who will just not marry and when asked why, apparently all the good ones are taken already. When a cute guy asks them out they see trouble. Afraid that other women might find the guy attractive and they will be all over him and vice versa. If he is a loser you know what. Bless your soul milady and worry not woman, you me both but sorry you are the one to die single and miserable for  I had rather marry myself.

But better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

Of course women cheat as much as men cheat too. Relationcheats. Then there are women won’t also marry because they are having a taste of their own medicine. You home wreckers hoehoehoe(laughs hoeishly)

I was taught that, Little girls with dreams grow into women with visions but some ladies with missions never grow into women with visions. Good women leave the table when love is no longer being served. Why? Because water finds its own level. Rather fours end up with fours and twos end up with twos. I know a latitude could be involved where the guy is a six and the woman is a 4 but eventually it narrows down and comes to a level.

Women marry losers and men marry loose women. As for men who marry loose women, girls who like to pick up strangers and fuck them at the parking lot will do so before and after the wedding. It’s the Madonna prostitute complex. Habits die hard. You will never ride in and rescue the hooker from her depraved life and your love cannot show her that she needs you more than heroin. Boy nothing beats heroin. Nothing.

Rational people avoid losers or sluts because eventually they want to be proud of their other half and show them off to their frenemies. It’s part of the joy of getting married. Good bye for now I ran out of wit.

 

Love peace and Happiness.
Thoughts borrowed!

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27 years old

By the time I re-read this I am having breakfast at Tiffany’s; somewhere in Westminster abbey, New York, Adelaide ( Australia), Marrakech or Durban ( South Africa) where they serve hot latte macchiato, a muffin and free WI-FI. I have finally stopped reminiscing of the life I had back in Kenya because apparently, the grass is greener here because I water my lawn every morning. I send remittances back home and face time with Ma’ and Pa’ religiously every Sunday afternoon. I have made new friends who like me a little too much than the ones back at home, mostly because maybe( just maybe) I started doing squats and I now apply makeup sanctimoniously, but that is just the beauty of time; a lack-lustre sassy winch grows into an impeccable Jacky O’. I no longer host pity parties, buy wine and popcorn and yap of how my heaven on earth is cheated on me after I drove a knife to his back. Men are no longer the centre of my existence.

It is indeed true what they say; that Diamonds can only be created under pressure. I thank my 20-year self who was self-confident and self-motivated the lady in me who had trust issues that led me to see people for who they really are and not for who they wanted to be. Do you remember what wrote in my last post? that at times you are all you got and maybe you will be all that you will ever have? well, it still applies now and I have gracefully taught myself that I would rather ride into the sunset alone than be half loved or half desired.

Well, it is not until I sought a better life that great opportunities beckoned me.  I did not honour my degree and I never purposed to do so, I believed I could do so much with my undergraduate degree and it turned out to be true. This morning I opted for coffee at Tiffany’s while my better half awaits for room service which I will cater to him in a few. I am not the greatest supplier of fashion gowns at the Grammys or the greatest clothing brand that ever existed anyways even given the whole world I still wouldn’t yearn for it but at the end of the day when I sleep in my warm sheets, what matters is that I put my best foot forward and that I did what I had to do to be where I am today. happiness is an inside job baby choose carefully who you grace the chance to attend the end year party.

Over the years I have learnt the most important lessons of all time. That if you do not go for what you want, you will settle for second best, ‘Go ye therefore in the direction of your dreams,’ Steer your own path or else you will forever be serviced by somebody else’s handouts. Steer clear of conniving drama queens, maintain your reputation, Stay classy Ma’. Tour the world, do some charity stuff, be good and do good, encourage a young lady to be bold. Fall in and out of love as many times as you wish to but remember one thing, even if you ride into the sunset alone, IT IS WELL. Do good and stay true. Goodbye New York, welcome Afghanistan.

Feminism 101

 

An acquaintance of mine from Durban, SA recently told me that he fears women who outrightly brand themselves as feminists. My bio on all social media platforms that I happen to be in, entails the following: Feminist‖ Liberal‖ Kantian. This is who I am, whether someone’s watching or not. I strongly uphold and practice Kantian ethics and I am a Feminist before I become your girlfriend, your wife, the mother of your children and even before I call you daddie. Cards on the table, I do not take my femininity lightly. It is a gift that I guard with all that I am and all that I hope to be.

Girls of today need to master the art of observing. Here’s why: Vibes don’t lie honey. You will learn a lot about people when you learn to observe.You will be quick to distinguish between friend and foe and you will know which demons dance to the rhythm of your song. Nobody teaches you how to be a feminist, if you boldly speak out for and against gender equality then you are a feminist. Whether you are a man or a woman.

It has been heavy on my mind lately; the concept of love, relationships and marriage. It is well known that I do not believe in the three and if I made anyone believe I did or I acted like I did, I was trying to make myself look basic. With age I got tired of people who would match their shirts with their shoes but had a problem matching their own words with their actions,  got tired of meeting the same people in different bodies and recherche, I am a sapiosexual and the boychild nowadays does not read , so now you know you know in your knower .

There are two issues that I stand strongly Cross-generational sex. I will make it clear to my daughters that they are never to trust a guy who is below 25 years of age and that is not reason enough to sleep around with older men. Why is a story for a rainy day. Just so you know, men love being in situations. Girls who practice cross generational sex leave a lot to be desired.I know, no one should be concerned about what goes into and out of your “Badly Packed kebab” but there is more to life than boys, sex and money.It lies heavy upon the older generation to educate the wannabees and instagram kids that even though tomorrow is not promised it should not be sacrificed  at the altar of the immediate. Focus on yourself. It will pay. There is nowhere in my right mind would  i deem cross  generational sex to be right. Secondly, girls who are not verbal. It phases me out when a girl cannot  hold a basic conversation. You do not have to graduate summa cum laude to know about Audrey Hepburn, Afeni Shakur, Jackie O’, Sappho, Cleopatra, Catherine de Medici, Rosa Parks, Coco Chanel, Margaret Thatcher, Wangari Maathai,Maryln Monroe,  Madonna, Dr Maya Angelou Diana Princess of Wales, Tegla Loroupe, Malala Yousafzai, Mary Wollstonecraft and the list is endless. School will not teach you about these women neither will it teach you how to be street smart. School will teach you how to be quiet when your man speaks. It will only teach your cognitive about right and wrong. The most deceptive of all, it will teach you that you are the weaker gender and that you belong in the kitchen .Read books, tour the world, help somebody be like you baby, remember History has its eyes on you and you cannot make history while you are busy being a Drama Queen. Drama is for the bedroom and brains are the new tits

I have travelled severally to Kabul, Afghanistan, America, Kisumu, Hawaii, China and Europe. This is not because my parents are rich, No, But Props to them for making sure I do not switch lanes. I have not been to this countries physically but I constantly there. Books allow you to travel to different places  at different times. I am beside myself with worry for the future “She generation”. Gas yourself frequently because you have to be twice as good to have half of what some people have. Remember, Girls are not machines that you put kindness coins into untill sex falls out.

Do not let femininity be your own undoing and stop saying sapnu puas, hit the nail on the head.

 

 

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I have been at war with my own heart lately, shout out to the hormonal  association (H.O.A). Everything is seemingly acting up; from my WI-Fi to my armpit hair.That not withstanding Zendagi Migzara, new year new plans but again old habits die hard. I am still the sassy girl who looks back at a guys bum-bum, Oh it gives me tingles, i am still titillated by bald heads and long beards and brown faces. The lady in me also honors and adores tree climbing besides swimming in the river; you can take the girl out of the country but you can not take the country out of the girl. We are fond of making lush decisions and hefty promises;this year i think  we should just chill and flow with the vibes ; no commitments and no engagements whatsoever.

Making a promise or committing is not a problem, the issue is to whom they are made.Some people are way casual about things while others have a tendency of being attached. Well I have been down both roads, I danced with the devil and I liked it but i had rather take things casually than be attached to anyone. The latter can have you fucked up, because people can show up at your doorstep with an new conniving vibe,tune you to it, then one day they turn your world against you and Voila! you are all to yourself. Always trust energy vibes do not lie! After all is said and done you will always be your own. You will be your own shoulder to lean on, you will be your own safe haven, you will cuddle and cry yourself to sleep and you will realize that you are all you have and you are all you have ever had. If you have not been there yet, wait for it with bated breath. It will  teach you what the economy will never teach you.

Tsk! Back to my agenda.Last year I was busy chasing after friendships and relationships that i slept on my self but Shout out to when i did that, it made me realize that me needed me.This year I set out to  be the me i need,upping my grades, taking my self out on high end dates, discovering my chakra, taking travels, updating my account, So help me God!

To every lady out there working day and night seeking to make ends meet, shout out to you, Shine on Ma and to the rich kids on Instagram, do something today that your future self will thank you for. Do not sacrifice your tomorrow at the altar of the immediate. Aluta Continua!

Respond to every call that excited your spirit. Fall in love and shout it out but Let not your Femininity be you own undoing.

A Kiss of Death

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This is not another subtle love story, neither is it a brief of a relationship gone sour and therefore let me not be taken as the broken hearted girl.

Let’s just say it’s an act of retribution – a nemesis.

The most valuable lesson life has taught me happens to be: Between the gutter and the high road, always take the high road. Let me tip you…. Don’t be petty! For the umpteenth time now my father has told me this,”forgive yourself for the blindness that let others betray you. Sometimes a good heart does not see the bad.”

Masquerade baby! Masquerade! Let’s play a game. They say; if you cannot look them in eye and tell them the naked truth, you don’t even love them. Of all the lies I heard, “I love you” was my favourite, because he let me believe that we were standing in the sun. When I showed hearts I showed diamonds. I could never imagine distancing myself from my object of love- He who must not be named- my wonder wall. He was not two timing; matter-of-factly he was a new breed with one foot in and the other dangling in the air. All I know is that I danced with the devil and I liked it.

The saddest thing about betrayal, they say, is that it never comes from your enemies, no at times it can be as warm as a bowl of soup served diligently to the undeserving. Every day he fed me lies enough to suffice a lifetime. He let me believe that all along I had the juice and I did not –Carpe Diem! – He knew where it was real at. There is a kind of solace that comes with lying in the arms of the one you love, breathing in harmony and eventually falling asleep. Ahem! I think it’s true when they say the devil wears prada and better the devil you know than the angel you do not know- Infidelity. Always question where your loyalties lie, know who to hold at heart and who to hold at a rm’s-length because at times it’s better to love people from a distance. When the skeletons in your closet finally decide to catch up with you, you have no one to blame because truth is, a guilty heart is muffled. Just be careful who fall into. If they are a sapiosexual then their mind controls more of their body than their heart does.

I am not really fond of storytelling but here is the thing, when embarking on a journey of revenge, dig two graves. What i have left to say is an act of retribution…..until next time !

#Bisous bisous

 

 

 

The Angel on My Shoulder.

2acb6d14d1acb05e9ab286cb2d65df1bCharade! They say that behind every successful woman is a man, screw me sideways… but behind every successful woman is her damn self. There is a particular cohort of women I nickname ‘Be crazy about star.’ The likes of Audrey Hepburn, Adele Laurie, Beyonce Knowles, Chimamanda Ngozi, Chelsea Clinton, Mother Teresa, Queen Elizabeth II, Angela Merkel and then there is me.
First let me clear the air and summon thee, “Penelope Cruz, Zoe Saldana, Audrey Hepburn, what do they all have in common?”……figure it out. I know it goes without saying that we all are dreamers, but if your dreams are not big enough to scare you, then they are just an illusion. I dream too much of New York City that I act like I am a Yorker. I dream too much of fashion because I am fashion and truce…..I dream too much because I want to be a self made woman.

We all have that one person standing on our shoulder(s), Sugar me! I don’t really know who they are in your life and what colour they take when they camouflage.
Have you ever looked at someone for the very first time and felt like you have had a moment before (is it called love at first sight? Touché!), well it is not only you. There is a guy I should meet again I believe so, he is the angel on my shoulder, the only man I ever looked back and saw him stare at me smiling. It was not just a smile, there was more to it and I just cannot put a finger on it. Was he a nightmare dressed like a day dream? Of that I know not, but for what it is worth, I know time stood still like never before. However, the sad part of it all is some moments cannot be felt twice. He was a prince among men…whoever you are, wherever you are, damn! Scoot over here

Out of the frying pan into the fire they say and believe me when I say there is more to people than that which meets the eye, remember the devil wears prada and just because I come bearing gifts it does not mean they are all good be sane lest you be the very person who accentuates to the saying ‘ I danced with the devil and I liked it.’

But for what it is worth, when you meet the angel on your shoulder, cuff them as for me I can only say “one day some random guy looked at me in a way that every girl deserves to be looked at.”

#if_you_like_it_then_you_shoulda_put_a_ring_on_it
#slay

 

Happy Father’s Day; Dear Momma

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The late Tupac Amaru Shakur would have turned 45 on the 16 th of June (R.I.P).  Old music, they say, never loses meaning; there is nothing like the old school. It is inevitable to say that a Son’s first love will always be his mother. Nevertheless, a girl’s first love could also be her mother. Tupac is a prototype of how we should appreciate our mothers especially when our fathers didn’t own up to their parental roles. On the 21st February, 1995 Tupac released “Dear Mama” – one of the best throwbacks anyone could ever listen to –describing how he loved his momma Afeni Shakur even when times were hard.

Screw me sideways with a nail gun, but there are women who deserve to be celebrated on Father’s day. When your momma been there for you taking both parenting roles and she never broke down in front of you, you need to celebrate her every day. When your momma makes it to your football practice in time every day and she tells you to kick some ass! You got to be grateful because some women don’t even know the difference between a Yellow and a Red card. When your momma gives you a home to come to everyday after school or after work you have to thank God for her. When your momma’s prayer keeps you through the day, you have to say a prayer for her too and when your momma has got your back and she gracefully cleans after your mess, be grateful.

We all do have a story to tell, we all have had struggles but at a certain point in life we emerged victorious. My momma always said; Courage Dear Heart, One day the sun gon shine, I never understood what she meant but now I do. She taught me patience, she taught me love and she taught me courage. There are no words that could ever describe the bond that I share with my momma and in whatever I do; I always want to make her proud of me

“All that I am or hope to be, I owe to my    mother.” Abraham Lincoln

Bless your momma with your words for you cannot use your speech against the woman who taught you how to speak. Happy Father’s day Momma you are the only father figure that I have ever known. Till the day I die, you are appreciated!

 

 

If you loved your momma and she is alive no more, make momma proud by being the best you could ever be. Perfect your hustle and believe for every dark night there is a brighter day.

Happy Father’s day to all the REAL men who stepped up and took care of their children, the men who are doing it alone and the men taking care of what another man could not. Props to you.

 

#Slay

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dancing in the shadows of my Father

 

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Growing up love; was the mirror behind our bathroom door, a favourite dish for breakfast, my tiny little dress that I wore to church every Sunday, the mascara that my mother wore when she went out for dinner dates with my father and eventually the colour of the hearts in my father’s house.
My father, a very quiet, sophisticated, charming, slow to anger yet a parochial man was the sang hero of the village. He was very charismatic, something that distinguished him from the other village men. He was good looking, need I say, old women, the young village ladies and the naïve teenage girls wore their Shangas to reveal their flawless tummies whenever they heard that my father was chairing a wedding ceremony. They even forgot he was a married man with two sons and an admirable charming daughter; me of course! He loved everyone equally and when he spoke everyone listened.
He taught my brothers to be men and taught me to accept nothing less. He was my first love, the only man I spent my days with before my tiny brothers were born, his hugs felt safe and warm and most of all, he made me believe that I could have anything I could ever wish for. He watched my mother do my hair with love and when he and momma had bad days, I was his safe haven. He believed in me even I doubted myself and when momma would pinch me he would caress my tiny chicks. He taught me that love was white in color, because when you mix all the colors of light you get white.
Like every man he had two sides: one that he revealed to the world and another one that he kept to himself. He let me accompany him to his mother’s graveyard where he would cry his heart out, but you know what they say, every man has a pink inside too; it’s cute though and by this he showed me that it’s okay not to be okay even in the midst of our loved ones. After mumbling some words he would carry me home on his shoulders; I sat in the shoulders of a hero. A man known to himself, one who was very meticulous, calculative and disciplined. He let me walk in his shadows for he was bracing me for an uphill task notwithstanding the fact that, I was a girl slowly maturing into womanhood and myriads of responsibilities would come my way. I guess it is utterly right when Chimamanda says that “We should all be feminists.”
All along my father taught me to love and respect even after I hate and condemn. At least he knew I was no angel and at times I had to agree with the sanctimonious committee that meets in my tiny head. He told me that I can be indifferent if I want to, but he gave me more than indifferent, he set an example and life was kind enough to let me watch and learn.
Ilene Saidel has written a book “PRESS: Seven Secrets to Break Through Every Life Barrier and Limitation” where she says that ‘You’ve got to know that you know in your knower that this is a part of life and your particular race.’
From where I stand there is a knower deep within me that slowly takes comfort in the shadows of my father.

The lessons from Macbeth

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I hastened my steps as I alighted the bus; I knew she would be waiting for me no matter how long I kept her waiting. Reminiscing of last time I knew she would not cut me some slack because typically that’s her nature; expandable-she can make a mountain out of a mole hill, she doesn’t get lost-she keeps coming back, infallible-she never forgets the small mistakes I make not even the infinity tiny ones and eventually the very intriguing aspect of her is that she knows how to manifest herself.  If I did not show up by the river side after work, then she would definitely be at my mother’s apartment during dinner time and over dinner she would make me confess my wrongs to my benign mother “Jane” who is in a habit of making me recant my sweet forbidden fruits.

Well today I remembered to buy some calla lilies for her, before all hell broke loose and she decided she would punish me for all eternity. The moment she speaks you can only think of Dalai Lama, Oprah Winfrey, Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe, Winston Churchill, Abraham Lincoln et al. There is a particular way in which she accentuates herself yet she still remains poised, she is less physical but so cognitive.

I got to the river side in about five took a heavy breathe and sat down, I didn’t care about dirtying my apparel she mattered most to me. Her silence spoke louder than before and slowly by slowly I lay the flowers beside me. I love meditation and there are times when I cannot fathom what happens while I am at it. There are two reasons why I meditate; to cope up with the uncertainties of tomorrow and to forget about the black Fridays; I don’t know why but all my Fridays are messed up. Let me recap the last three. On the first Friday I got arrested in the city for a very petty issue, on the next Friday I got beat up in a club and eventually on the third Friday I got arrested again for being at the right place at the wrong time (am I still in high school?) believe you me if my mother knew this she would skin me alive but first she would begin with those statements you never want your neighbours to hear, “Ulikuja Nairobi ukaharibika?”

There is something about tomorrow that I yearn for, Lady Macbeth from my meditation keeps telling me to open my eyes wide, dream it and work for it. She never tells me how tomorrow will come or what will come with it. Mentally she has fine-tuned my thoughts and centralized them into focusing on the bigger picture-she says you can never see the picture whilst you are standing on the frame. In a sotto voce she teaches me to let go of bad thoughts, negativity, bad remarks and all of my energy is channeled towards a common point of peace, love and harmony. Meticulously I have observed that there is more to life than networks, wealth, pride and ego. I have learnt to develop a relationship with my inner being, I have learnt to love myself before I love anyone else and the core benefit of it all is that I have discovered my chakra. If you want to meet her give her twenty minutes of your day’s time, after all, Silence is a true friend who betrays not. Let your dreams see the light of day.

At the end of my meditation I rose up gave the flowers to the blind man on the streets and headed home. “Learn to give when you have plenty “she said.