A note:

I will be honest, writing about the bunch i call “the winds beneath my wings” is daunting. Its a question of what do you say? How do you describe them so that people can see their essence, their uniqueness?  They are different, and common at the same time. As i am not sure on how to write about this topic aka friendship,  i have decided to try and put out a public note instead.

Here we go:

To you who reads my posts, because you know me and like me and not because blogs are of interest to you, or that what i write makes sense. Thank you.

To you who makes sure i am home, safe and sound. Thank you.

To you who drags me to Ethiopian and orders bread for me as the Injera is terrible to my teeth……..well……… Thank you (its the company when all is said and done that matters)

To you who screamed in a club till i heard you above the loud music, because you were super excited for my good news…Thank you.

To you who has a crib i call my second home, whose door is always open (and Kitchen for that matter)…..Thank you.

To you who can figure out that i am not fine, not by the sound of my voice or facial expression but from my responses on chat.Thank you. (i am amazed)

To you who i call to say all that is basically wrong with me and how an absolute failure i am and you remind me of who i really am… Thank you. (maximum respect for keeping it cool in the storm)

To you who constantly prays for me. God hears you. Thank you.

To you who figured out that the statement “Feed me first” is very important. My tummy and i piga Asante sana.

To you who i can winge and whine to and then have you clearly state that you will punch me out as i am being an idiot. Thank you.

To you who reminds me of my dreams and that i need to follow them.Thank you.

To you who went with me to the MRI (you knew i would be too terrified/stubborn to ask for company so you offered to tag along) and stayed with me until i got the results.Grazie.

To you who continually asks “How are you” and genuinely wants to know how i am doing. Thank you.

To you who can clearly state from experience that i do not define “cool, calm and collected” Yet you still call me friend. You are just as crazy!

To you who can honestly state Í do not trust that dude!. Yes, i know it takes guts, but someone has to say it….LOL. Thank you. (Someone has to be on the look out for the hyenas)

To you who endures my praises for frozen yogurt, and still not get the whole huppla. You do not know what you are missing. And yes, it is about me.

To you who i can just have coffee and/or milkshake, throw in some fries in that order…..ehem…….and yap about nothing or something, and still end up feeling like i had the party of my life.Thank you.

To you who says, Fear but do it it anyway. You know its been one winded ride!

To you who being late is just normal. Mungu akuonekanie! Yes, i will keep carrying a magazine so that i have something to do as i wait.

To you who has no idea on how to use modern communication tools, yaani hata mobile ni shida, who responds to emails 3 months later when no one knows what you are talking about………

The one who wanders all over this country and beyond to catch some new sites. You need to become the ambassador of ‘tembea Kenya’. Enjoy the journey, take the pics and let us hear of the people you meet.

This list could go on and on …

We do not pick family, but we choose our friends. And i have great taste!

PS:

I am in a lovey dovey mood today

the hustler’s life

“Dawa ya minyoo”

“Dawa ya minyoo”

“Dawa ya minyoo”

By the third time dude had my attention, even through the ear phones and a Paulo Coelho book he got through. Normally…. sweets and chewing gum, “Tropicals and orbit”, and this is way after Orbit became PK, are the hawking goods of choice. Fella with a paper bag walks in hissing in a sing song “Tropicals, Orbit, tatu tano” while jingling coins to get your attention.

Then a little bit from normal is the dawa ya mende hawker. This guy appears and disappears depending on the season, maybe he knows that cockroaches are seasonal. But, he promises immediate eradication of the pesky insects, y’all know roaches are just plain evil, spot one today and tomorrow night you have one thousand. Guess, that’s why the dawa ya mende guy makes roaring business when he does appear.

And ofcourse there is the route 46 hawker wa “rebo ya dhamos” (label ya thermos). If you do not want to stick the label on the thermos, you have the choice of briefcase , kiio etc. With bible verses such as “the Lord is my shepherd ….” and “I can do all things…..” I am sure this guy does roaring business. Though I am puzzled why a thermos needs some scriptural sticker or any sticker at that, guess only the Lunjes know why.

And we cannot forget the biscuit guy

“Kuna strawberre, chokolet na vanila. Nunua tatu and ishirini”

My beef with this guy is that what he calls biscuits is actually wafers. But the guy knows his target market, he only approaches people who look like they have kids and he appears around 4pm, just in time for mum and dad to be reminded about ‘break’.

Back to the story at hand. Now is this man seriously hawking de-worming tablets? What will be next, cough syrup? Assuming that the rest of the passengers would be surprised, I turn to check the action. Shock on me, people are reaching for their wallets. What I thought to be abnormal is normal. Then peeps start engaging the guy in some form of consultation.

“Nilinunua last month ninahitaji tena”

“Hapana mama ngoja miezi mitatu halafu uchukue nyingine”

What? This guy is actually not just selling for selling sake he also knows all about dosage etc. And the chatter continues, peeps showing their skin, asking what’s right for their kids and me wondering the sanity behind all this. Maybe it is a sign for me to reach for that tab my dear pal gave me but I have my issues from childhood with this de-worming vibe, though I am told these days them worms are killed, ground in the tummy before exit, kids of this generation have been spared the horror.

In ten minutes “Dawa ya minyoo” guy is done with his business for the day in this ride and gets off and gets into another bus. Advantages of Nairobi traffic.

NB:
Stranger is concerned I changed direction of the blog “without consultation”. ……. hmmmmh

whose fear?

Once upon a few years back, I needed to make a decision, a friend was of course roped in to assist with finding the best way forward and she did give her views. I was informed it was a bad idea and so the project died. Ok, the project did not die, someone else picked it up and I am watching it flourish. And that sucks.

Its not as simple as summarised above. I had thought about it quite a bit, but friend was roped in because I believed that she had more knowledge on the matter. She did but from a negative angle, which I did not know then and only time has made me realise now. From the word go there was always a ‘but’. Looking back I get it now, she had tried and failed and did not want the same for me. But I was sure I would succeed but never said a thing. Why? Basically, she put in me enough doubt for me not to believe I could do it. I basically fed off her fear.

Whose fear was I working with?

Great question.

Or is it, why would she share her fear?

Well, her fear was real to her then and she shared it, scared me half to death while at it. But then again, Its one thing to share your opinion and experience, its a whole different ball game to share your fear. Just because you failed, fear to fail, in something does not mean the next person will. When we share our fears with our pals they naturally will take it to heart because they know you have their best interest at heart. But, we should be careful not to be the detractor in the room.

That said, was I entirely innocent in this debacle? Hell No! I sought advice and I made the decision to take it. In as much as my internal alarm was going off I still did opposite. Why? Why? Why? I guess in the quest to ‘honour’ a friends advice I stifled my own. Lesson for the day, you choose your own path!

On the Low…..

 

“You have a cough.”

“Yes.”

“Try not to cough.”

And how is one to pull that off? Why would someone give such a comment anyway? Well, i was getting strapped onto an MRI machine and i was to stay perfectly still for an hour.  Problem is i had a super cough and i could not postpone the session, we were at a Mungu saidia moment.

How did i end up strapped on a MRI machine on a cold Saturday morning? Well……doctor’s orders. Not as simple as that really, for about 10 months my lower back on was on various degrees of acute pain. Loads of pain meds later, physiotherapy, recuperative exercise and lets not forget 2 of the ‘best’ orthopedic doctors later and not a major change. I actually had learnt to live with the pain. On to the ‘best’doctor No. 3 and the moment i was done talking, the guy dropped his pen and said “go get an MRI and come back, your too young to have back problems”.  My medical insurance had reached its limit, my savings were gone, all that remained was my B’Day fund before i would have to head to the folks to sort me out. In short there was nothing left to lose. And to MRI i went, and i slept all through the process. Ain’t God good.

 

One hour later and the results were ready. Now, i have never understood why someone would expect you to carry your results to the doctor to tell you what is on it, while they know. After sharing that theory with the lab guy that they were my results and so he was not spilling state secrets, the bomb was dropped, i had a couple of herniated discs. At least we now knew what was wrong and could start the road map to recovery.

 

Some lessons from the herniated discs:

Your body given the right conditions will heal at its own pace.

I learnt this from my last visit with Doc 3 who actually figured what was wrong. I had gone to see him to get more pain meds and he refused to prescribe any. I would heal, i needed to give my body time. I am not completely out of the woods but my body is fixing itself one day at a time and on its journey i am learning patience, everything does not have to happen on microwave time.

Its never that serious! Let it go!

As in really. There will be idiots in the world, annoying pests but they are not worth holding on to. A whif of stress, anger, fear, anything…..and the pain comes knocking. I am having none of that. Anointed with the spirit of goodbye. I have become very intentional in my relationships.

Men of a certain height are actually potential  

Confession. If a guy was not 3 inches taller than me, his chances of even coffee were close to nil, unless he had Obama charisma. Yes, my shortest heels were 3 inches high, the man had to be at least eye level for us to have a starting convo. But with a hurt back, i could no longer wear heels, i discovered flat shoes and in turn discovered that the lake is actually an ocean. Cast ye the net and select!  Now convos are still eye level, but we are both are on a flat surface

Omega 3 and 9

Essential oils are quite effective in reducing inflammation, and since i could no longer have pain killers, we had to find a way to help with the healing. And the discovery of Omega 3 and 9. Great for my inflammed nerves and great for my hair and nails. Miracles!

 

Exercise 

Treadmill, run out doors, walk up a flight of stairs, just get your heart pumping and your muscles stronger. Who would have thought weak stomach muscles would aggravate the back? I will take the treadmill any time and the dance floor.

 

Its not the height of the shoe; its the height of the wearer!

Apologies to all my short friends…..

Thank God for my height, imagine if i was shorter and was stuck in flats!

Anyway, really, its not the shoe that supplies the confidence, found out the confidence was still there even in flats. Yes, the heel gives a swing but i can still rock me some flats! And save my back while at it

I am kind of back to wearing heels again, kind of because i have fallen in love with flats.

 

Why Oh Why?

I started writing this blog on someone’s suggestion. Wanted to see if I had the discipline to continue with something for awhile. Commitment.

Basic idea sit in a matt and write.

I am not sitted in a matt right now, far from it, I am in the comfort of my home listening to the rain and thinking.

Why have I not posted anything for quite a while. Is it because it was someone’s idea that this seems like a task trying to achieve a paragraph off my crazy sentences?

I could have written about sitting next to the huge Jang’o lady who was chatting on the phone loud enough for me hear her through my earphones. By huge I mean, I was squeezed to the wall of the matt and basically as Uncle Joe chides Madea “she a buick”.

Or I could have written about sitting next to the driver who was checking me out and then wished me a lovely day and quick recovery off the cold as I got off. Was it the skirt or he genuinely cared?

Or the kange who “kept change” since either way we will definately “meet” for him to hand it to me as he has no “loose”.

Or the lovely, perfect height guy with a good voice to boot who called his sis to find out family plans and his day was clear to whatever plan she and mum came up with.

Or the perfect pair of shorts that I saw on a perfectly shaped teenager.

Or the skinny jeans on some dude (don’t get me started on that subject)

Or the fact some of my friends don’t like each other and I wish they did, then again I don’t like some of their friends….you get?

Or the fact what is being considered a weather phenomenon is the Nairobi of my childhood and that I am glad something normal has happened to stabilise life.

Or that sitting in traffic, one rainy morning can make you take stock of your life, where its headed, your failures, your mistakes.

That walking is good for your heart and I am unfit and its too cold to think of changing into gym gear.

That I love who I am becoming. Age does make you comfortable in your skin.

That I don’t get why some people make promises they never keep, and as I am tired of being nice to them, I have placed them in the stranger corner.

Or the merc that stalled on overlapping. Is it legal for a merc to stall?

But I did not write.