Secret of Love

Imagine a large circle
And in the center of it, rays of light spreads out to the circumference
The light in the center is God.
Each of us is a ray
The closer the rays are to the center
The closer are the rays to one another

The closer we live to god
The closer we are bound to one another
The further we are from god
The further we are from one another

The more each ray departs from its center
The weaker it becomes
And the closer it gets to the center
The stronger it becomes

The secret of love is for each man to live as close to god as s/he can
And he will thereby  live closer to his beloved
In Him(God), self love becomes perfected
In him also we love our neighbor as ourselves

(anonymous)

The emptiness of life...

EMPTY….

Forlorn and weary, he stared down. Sharp stinging pain welling in his eyes. The optical muscles no doubt had sworn to betray him today.  He tried hard to hold the tears back but two big tear drops eased themselves out of their rather tense environment. They found their course down his cheeks. Big warm salty things that left a trail on either side of his nose that had with time gotten runny. He sneezed involuntarily and a spray of fluids painted an awkward image on his shirt. Bitter feelings engulfed his whole person. Feelings of hate and distaste. Trembling, he opened the eyes he had momentarily shut to prevent a gush of tears. He looked down again tears flowing freely. No need to hold anything back even if it meant draining his tear glands dry. “Why? God, why should you allow this to happen” he asked loud.

Down she laid. Calm as ever and in the fullness of her gory. Tall, skin well toned, curvy and firm chested. Graceful arms, sharp nose, gleamy eyes that were, firm tacit thin lips that just the other day were having fun with his. Hers was a beautiful face that told of a story.

A painful lump built itself up Ryan’s throat. He spat and cursed at the unfairness of life.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you!! You are such a bad reaper!” he swore to his breath and broke down into a fist of sobs that culminated into wails. He wanted to cry himself hoarse.  He grabbed at the now lifeless body of Judith. He stared deep down in her surprisingly open eyes and saw so many possibilities. A dream shattered, a future spoilt, a beauty wasted, a mother denied a daughter and grandchildren, a loss of productive labor force for a nation so much in need, a loss of a friend, a loss of love, a loss of life. A tear cascaded down his chin and directly fell in Judith’s left eye. She slowly closed it as if she had been eagerly waiting for her last dose which in this case had to be administered through her eyes.

 “I loved you dear... I really loved you! So sad that you had to leave so early”

Ryan carefully laid her down on the very bed she had nursed and fought her ailments from. It smelled of olive oil and a mixture of gases identifiable with a medical laboratory. Looking at the shelf, he noticed an array of bottles full to the brim with capsules and tablets that the doctors in their knowledgeable opinion thought were supposed to bring life to his dream girl.

 He shook his head in disbelief and as if in mockery and defiance, a bandage roll came tumbling down from the shelves bringing with it a rather unfriendly syringe that landed between his feet missing her big toe by an inch. He wished it could have hit him hard if only for him to share in the pain that Judith had to endure in her daily jabs. He gave it a kick and it rolled under the bed. He reached for the curtains and drew them an inch as if in a desperate attempts to welcome the world to share in his sorrows. There was no morning sun. No singing birds. No nothing. He could not even see through the mist that engulfed the neighborhood. Cold misty wind blew in. He spotted an owl prying around the garbage heap. Disappointed, he drew back the curtains and noticed by the windowsill a bottle case full of multicolored pills. The labels on the sides shouted that they were sleeping pills. He emptied the contents in his palm and was at the verge of swallowing them all when the family cat jumped in from outside knocking his hand and sending the pills scattered on the floor. He cursed in disgust. With Judith gone, he felt life had lost meaning. He was better dead than alive.

It was Judith that had always brought forth fond memories. He felt nostalgic about almost every moment they spent together. The countless adventures they had in the woods, the tours they had made to children homes, the coffee dates, the boat rides. It is this friend who could keep him waiting for hours at the riverside just for a hug. They had thrown leaves and pebbles in the river and watched them float downstream, counted the ripples made by each pebble throw, kissed and listened to each other breath to while time. They could hold hands and watch the sun set in the horizon sending pale sometimes yellow soft rays that shone on their faces. Judith often seemed transfigured. Her coming home was a thing welcomed by all. Mum was particularly glad at her sense of maturity and gracefulness. The younger siblings adored her smile and big heart that manifested itself in the various gifts she brought home, the sisters rejoiced in her simplicity and talent to plait. Judith was part of them all, how lucky was Ryan?

But then the enemy came. Determined to cause him pain, the enemy hit hard at the death spot. At the very point that mattered. The enemy denied him joy cutting short his dreams. Who was the enemy punishing? Judith or Him? What had the poor soul done to deserve such cruelty?

“Mum, you’ve lost an in-law, sisters you’ve lost a friend, Kenya you’ve lost a nurse, Ryan you’ve lost a wife to be”, He sobbed. Amidst the pain and sobs, he reached for a bed sheet, covered the now lifeless body and made for the door.

“I have to inform mum, I have to inform Linda, and I have to inform the government that Judith is dead”

If only he knew any of her family, if only he knew her background, if only he knew her home, if only he had time to listen to her last wishes.

 He regretted deeply having overlooked all these. He only knew Judith as a Rwandan refugee who had sought custody in Kenya. They met at a UN function, had lunch, exchanged pleasantries and before they realized had gotten so tight and inseparable. Judith was in a Medical school pursuing a diploma in nursing on a sponsorship she declined to disclose. It never really mattered at the time for what they had was a joining of hearts. Ryan, four months after his completion of graduate school with a bachelors degree in commerce was volunteering at the UN as an accounts clerk.

Love and fate brought the two together, for the joy of them all at the beginning but for the loss and pain of one at the end. The transition so unexpected that Ryan, left to lick his wounds in solitude still asks: is there victory in death?

If Kenyan Men were to be Honest (part 2)

If many of the Kenyan men were to be honest to God, they probably would never ever date the average Kenyan woman. We all know how Njoki Chege has taken the country by storm, with all her male bashing and telling-it-as-it-is articles. The difference between Njoki and the rest of us: she is bold enough to write it. While am all for women getting standards higher than their heels, there is something completely off putting about us young modern Kenyan women. I am a young woman and yes I am part of this flawed generation of women. This girl-child-empowerment business has completely gone to our heads. What is exactly wrong with us women?

Our sense of entitlement; we are a generation of spoilt arrogant young women who have no idea what relationships and equality entail. Our grandmothers held demonstrations, protests and riots so that we may have gender equality or at least a sense of fairness in society between men and women. While we have been quick to embrace this equality business in the workplace, we are absolutely unwilling to embrace it in relationships. Many of us are very conceited and our vanity is the very thing that is pissing the Kenyan man off.

Many of us women are approaching relationships all wrong; always having this sense of self-importance in relationships. It starts on the very first date; I meet him with the mentality that my time is more important than his. The guy should understand that I am taking an hour or two off my ‘busy’ schedule to meet him. He should therefore make the date worth my time. What happens? You show up an hour later and don’t even apologize for being late. He should in fact be grateful you showed up at all. The pressure is now on the guy to impress you, right? He should be as smart as Newton, as funny as Chris Rock and as witty as whomever; meanwhile you are as interesting as a boiled potato. What have you brought to the table? Your beauty: shall the poor guy compare you to a summer’s day or an angel?

From the very start, the relationship with the average young modern Kenyan woman is doomed. For majority of the dates you will show up late, you will sulk for days when he replies your texts after thirty minutes or calls you back after two hours. You will place crazy demands on his time to the point it is next to impossible for him to have a life outside the relationship. You will become so insane to the point if he does not give you the attention you want you start to give stupid ultimatums like Jenny. (part 1)

We young modern women want financially stable men. Men should pay for all our dates and even compensate us fares to and from the date; never once should they ask us what we do with our money. What happened to being an independent woman? When am broke and cannot afford my rent he should chip in and pay my landlord on time but he should never ask me to loan him money when he’s having a rough patch. We women don’t want the hustle of helping him make it. We don’t want to start from scratch, helping him build his empire and splitting bills while he invests both our money. We want a self made millionaire who lives in Runda, has golf meetings on weekdays and can fly us to Zanzibar weekly.

We want responsible men who can take care of us. He should take care of you, when you drink yourself silly and pass out in the club. But should he drink himself silly, you will simply not take care of a grown-ass man who is unable to handle his drink. Who the hell does he think you are: his mother? You cannot be the designated driver ever because you are a woman and you deserve to have a good time and he should be responsible for your fun. It’s okay if you are a drama queen but a man full of drama is immature, right? You get angry when he refuses to take you to your favourite club for whatever reason, but you are unwilling to spend time with him in his local bar. Why? Because Steve Harvey got it into your head that you deserve to act as you please so that he can respect your standards and you can’t do his ‘cheap’ local joints. He has to do what you want to earn your love.

This sense of entitlement, superciliousness and pomposity is what is driving our men crazy. We women are testing our men’s patience and sanity. That is why fewer and fewer men are unwilling to date seriously before the age of thirty five. Who wants to commit to a person who feels entitled in life? Who wants a woman who feels her time is more important than yours? Who wants a companion who will not support you when the economy hits hard; who will instead punish you with dry spells or worse leave you? Who wants a companion who thinks her beauty entitles her to get away with anything including narcissism? Who wants a friend who cannot offer to be the designated driver once in a while?

Let us get real ladies. Men owe you nothing. The man you are dating is not your ticket to financial stability and the finer things in life. You want to be financially stable, work hard at what you do, save up, invest and while you are at it, invest his money too and build up your future business empire. In this day and age you still want to act like damsel in distress waiting for a man to save you? Woman please, Betty Friedan would be ashamed of you. You want the finer things in life: get plenty of money and stop spending your 50k salary buying designer shoes and clothes worth 20k monthly. Wait till you have plenty of money then you can reward yourself and look like a million bucks. He spends money to take you on dates, why not show him your appreciation and buy him one of those gadgets he’s been talking about all month. He gives you money for your hairdresser; buy him a nice tie or sweater or socks. It won’t kill you.

You cannot be the diva that shows up late on every date and get livid when the guy shows up thirty minutes late. He also needs time to look good and his time is just as important as yours. Apologize when you are late and make it up to him next time. You can’t demand he drops everything to see you or talk to you whenever you want, just because he’s busy at the moment don’t mean he loves you less. He does not have to see you every weekend either. He has a life outside the relationship you know.

The man you are dating is not your ticket to a good time. Spare him the phony sophistication and just keep it real. When a man offers to date you, it is not the time to ditch Tusker baridi and upgrade to Jack Daniels. If you want a man who can handle his drink, be the kind of woman who can handle her drink too. Otherwise be a sport and offer to be the designated driver once in a while and let him have a wild time too. Hang out at his local joint once in a while and have a Snapp. Being a drama queen makes you immature, pick your battles wisely.

It’s not the guy’s job to impress you, being pretty does not mean he has to worship the ground you walk on. You are not doing anyone favours by agreeing to go on a date with him. If anything it’s for your own good. You can’t have as much personality as a paper cup and insist that your date must be as interesting as Eddie Murphy. You can’t be dumb then ask for Einstein as a date. If you can’t hold the attention of your cat, what are the chances you will hold the attention of such interesting characters? Try reading books and work on being an exciting date so that you may equally challenge him and impress him; bring something more than good looks to the table.

Life is hard enough, relationships don’t have to be harder. Men do not need our arrogance. Men don’t owe us financial stability, a good time, fun, emotional fixing or whatever other vanity we think we are entitled to. The man you are dating owes you love, loyalty and respect.  There is a thin line between having principles and smugness.