Lessons from the Drama

Drama after drama we have been treated to, here in Kenya, yet it’s barely 2 months in to 2015. From these happenings, I can accurately predict that Kenyans will be a tired lot by mid this year; what saddens me is that there seems to be no hint of better things to come, at least if the incidents of these two months are anything to go by.

…from the sudden demise of baba’s son whose mystery is yet to be unraveled, to the ‘Mr. Private Developer Singh’ whose land grabbing behavior led to innocent school children being sprayed with loads of teargas, to a dishonorable member of parliament who decided to treat us to a series of Reality TV drama as he spit unmentionable insults to some men in uniform, and to the loss of politicians in a single week…some through road accidents while others were executed by some very well-trained snipers (at least this is what I think because, otherwise, how do you expect me to explain that some four men were each shot dead with a single bullet?) Believe me when I say this is a real difficult year for us not unless the Angels come down to the earth … 

Having witnessed all these incidences, I have picked a few lessons which I would like to share with you…

First, it’s only you and I fight who and call each other names simply because we speak different languages. Before Fidel passed on, may his soul R.I.P, the country’s boss had a fully packed diary. His diary was probably packed with schedules of events; therefore, visiting baba was most likely least in his agenda. When the son of Jakom passed on, you were probably not amused that the country’s chief had shelved his commitments for two days and gone to be with his perceived ‘enemy’… at least according to you and me. We have eyes but we do not see, we have ears but we do not hear! The loud message passed through this incident was that there really are no enemies in politics… may be ‘frenemies’. 

Let not any one fool you; they wine and dine together once they are away from the public eye and outside the political arena, their children school together and inter-marry because they do not limit themselves to their tribes. Actually, it is only you and me who belong to certain tribes and carry around the tags of our tribes with us in our hearts, heads, and on our foreheads; otherwise, the political chiefs of our country only associate themselves with the various tribes as a means to influence the vote, a selfish act which makes them sole beneficiaries. I tell you this for sure, if we do not dismantle our tribal cocoons and peacefully co-exist, we shall perish as fools…

They grabbed the school playground and innocent children faced the wrath of hungry policemen, who have become so accustomed to throwing canisters of teargas to city hawkers, that they did not even stop for a second to think that their victim, this time around, was not the hawkers but primary school children. My brothers on social media were fast as lightening to condemn this act and pretend to be holier than though. Several of my friends changed their social media names to “Private developer Singh” while others posted all types of funny pictures to ridicule the land grabbers. 

Then I thought to myself… how sad that we have become only a reactive nation rather than a proactive one to address these burning issues. As long as we are not proactive and fear confronting such issues, criticism hush tags will continue being the order of the day and this will not stop the vicious cycle of corruption incidents. I am glad that although you grabbed the land, we fought to have it back, and now they are about to conclude fencing it. 

I salute the men in uniform at the weigh-bridge for standing firm on their principles, although, sadly, they became part of a Reality TV drama that we were treated to by one of our honorable members. My bad, this was quite a show… I vividly recall the last time we were treated to such drama was during an infamous incident at village market; the big fish in this case was relieved of her duties and the naïve guard was rewarded by the courts for having gone through such a humiliation. 

The beauty of Chapter 6 of our Constitution is reminiscent during such nasty incidents of big fish vs. small fish. The maturity with our courts is evident as they seem to clearly understand that no one is above the law, really, and that justice must be allowed to follow her course. If only we could have a few more officers and guards like these… a few more proactive journalists would also be required to do the exposes without fear or favor. 

For the love of my country, I can’t fail to notice that there’s a lot of bloodshed yet no one is being made to account for it. How would you explain the many cases of cattle rustling, which often leave scores dead, yet they seem to get worse as days go by? Every day, I cringe at the thought that the beauty of my country may be fading…Alhamdulillah! The coastal region is gradually regaining its glory…. 

Amkeni Ndugu  Zangu, Natujenge Taifa Letu…

An Article by Sarah Makena,

Co-founder Ukabila Zi Society

Blessed Big Hearts: Living the Purpose

Saturday, February…the date is 7^th, year 2015. I had traveled outside Nairobi to go check on the progress of my dignity project; little did I know that it would become an inspirational weekend on my part. Having many friends is good especially having friends whom you share similar perspectives about life. On this Saturday, I was supposed to travel back to Nairobi, from this far away village where I am doing my dignity project; my dream has always been to empower young people, from the most odd of places; odd not because the places do not exist in the map of the world, but because the regions are marked with poverty, illiteracy, among other threats to development. I hold this deep passion in me to ensure that the young people from such remote areas, humble backgrounds, gain quality education. 

Some will argue that this burning passion in me, to ensure accessibility of quality education, is motivated by the circumstances I have been through; yes, they may be right…but only partly; I strongly believe that every human being is born with intrinsic dignity; The ideal he/ she deserves respect regardless of where they are born, raised, their social standing in the society not to mention their religious belief. I strongly believe that by promoting access to quality education, I will be promoting human dignity among these people, whom life seems to have mastered the art of playing poker on them. What else can we do for them if not empower them through education?

It was a group of friends, who had come together in unity of purpose, to improve the condition of children orphanages in two counties of Kenya, by offering sustainable solutions to the challenge of food, school fees, clothes, shoes…name them. I must say there exists a genius in this part of the world; genius in creating sustainable solutions to social problems facing children in orphanages. The person who designed the initiative and decided that donating various plant seedlings ranging from fruit seedlings to wood-tree seedlings, and calculated that it would only take a mere 5 years for these orphanages to start enjoying the fruits of their labor; paying school fees, comfortably buying food and clothing for themselves, besides, gaining experience enough to make them sustainable citizens who can initiate projects on themselves, was a genius. 

It was long journey to Josphine Wambui orphanage; long because it was actually long, and long because there was a lot of dust. Every part of Kenya is very dry right now and this probably explains why we reached at Josphine Wambui covered in layers of dust; I was thanking heavens for convincing me to wear navy blue and black from head to toe. My experience at Josphine Wambui did not reach a climax until I listened to her talk. She talked after her husband. She started by complaining that her husband had refused to speak on her behalf, that he had refused to introduce her to the visitors, yet they were in this together. Then she said that people actually thought she was crazy. Her siblings, who were seated in our midst, had travelled from the capital city to come and confirm if really this couple was not crazy... I wondered why? I had to speak to her… telling you the next 10 minutes were marked by impatience and curiosity would be an understatement.

A couple of years ago, Dorothy was seated at the fireplace in her bungalow in Nairobi after having a sumptuous meal for dinner. It was a cold evening. During such cold evenings, Dorothy, her husband and 4 year old son would join her at the fireplace where they would ‘pass’ the evening hours as they beat the chilling cold. However, on this particular evening, Dorothy received a revelation; for the first time she realized that they had only one child, yet she had always wanted to have other children especially through adoption but she had not yet started the procedure. The reality that Dorothy and her husband had only one child struck her so much that she wondered what really it is that they were looking for in this world, in terms of wealth, since they already had enough wealth to be inherited by their only son Emmanuel.

Dorothy and her husband had worked for 14 years each and had made a sizable amount of investments in real estate, stocks, and savings; enough to guarantee them a comfortable lifetime and be inherited by their son. Dorothy shared this insight with her husband, who completely agreed with her reasoning. Dorothy recounted her story about how she was bed-ridden for 2 months yet neither her wealth nor any amount of money could make her rise up from the bed; yes, she stayed sick and stuck in bed for that long…

On this chilly night, Dorothy and her husband agreed that they had, after all, been chasing vanity of vanity. It had been fourteen years of waking up early, beating traffic jams, and toiling to make money…now they had it, they even had their own rental apartments as is the dream of many employees, but all this was vanity. Imagine working your entire life and making a lot of money, only to leave it as inheritance to your one child? The more I listened to Dorothy’s perspective about wealth as vanity, the more it dawned on me that we should find a greater motivation other than wealth; a greater motivation that is our purpose, which we can say, one day, made us live. A purpose greater than money that we would be ready to die for, to live a legacy that we helped mankind, that we helped affirm dignity in an individual who had been tormented by the ghosts of life and deprived off dignity. Mother Theresa of Calcutta knew this too well…

Dorothy and her husband tendered their letters of resignation in January, 2015. They were determined to live a purposeful life by being parents to orphans; they packed a few of their belongings and in the company of their son Emmanuel left for Josphine Wambui’s Orphanage; somewhere in the dusty rural Kenya, to offer their parental love and guidance to the 25 children at the home. Their son Emmanuel would become the 26^th. Believe me; they left everything else they had worked hard to buy in Nairobi city. To add salt to the injury, they sold their sleek car in exchange for an old one that could fit the humble lifestyle of a rural area in Kenya.

As I write this article, Dorothy, her husband, and son Emmanuel are living at Josephine Wambui’s Orphanage. Their purpose is simple; to transform the lives of the orphaned children through their parental love and guidance and to manage the children’s home. This couple is committed; one month down the line, the children are already enjoying eating tomatoes, vegetables, corn, and milk produced in the orphanage’s farm courtesy of Dorothy’s husband. Dorothy has also been hard at work helping the children in their studies, building self-esteem in them, and teaching them the basics of hygiene. Wow…what can I say? My friends and I look forward to spending a whole week at the children’s home; playing with the children, sharing our perspectives about life and dignity, besides catching up with Dorothy…

An Article by Gladys Muthara,

 Champion for Quality Education,

Volunteer Blog Editor, Ukabila Zi Society,

Our difference’s the beauty of our country

 “You know these Luos...” is a statement I know very well. Despite the fact that it hurts me to the core, when such a statement is made with the sole motive of criticizing a group of Kenyans from the tribe where the love of my life hails from, I still have to bear it as some people continue to recklessly utter these tribalism inclined words all around me. I must say, however, that many a people in Kenya are learning how to co-exist with their brothers from another tribe. Even as this is the case, we cannot wholly shut down our eyes and ears to those who are still deeply engraved in the cocoons of tribalism; sadly, I have to interact with some of them and their negative reaction towards people from other tribes takes me aback to think about my boyfriend and other kind hearted people from the Lake region. 

Many will say that I am biased towards where my ‘mister’ comes from, swearing by the ‘red bible’ will do no good, neither is biting a handful of soil make things better; the fact is simply that I am not biased, on whatever ground, towards any tribe, be it from the Lake Region or any other. If you are meeting him for the first time, you would probably think that he is a Swahili since his name ‘Badia’ (Swahili word for fake) says it all; however, his very dark complexion betrays him and creates a sweet confusion…mmh don’t they say that “The darker the berry…” anyway, I proudly tell my friends and others who care to listen, that my ‘mister’ man is from Lake Region. 

The Desiderata has taught me humility in its true meaning and it is from it that I will quote some words for your reference, “As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all persons...” Having been raised up in a Christian family, I very well understand the act of forgiveness; however, I have grown up to appreciate the importance of peace.  As far as I am concerned, peace entails understanding that I am neither perfect nor an island; understanding that if I appreciate and love people, then I will live a good life. Peace entails the revelation that we are different and born with strengths and weaknesses; understanding that at any one point, I am a compliment of someone else, their efforts, beliefs, lifestyle, and culture. I have appreciated that I cannot live alone and succeed; rather, I clearly appreciate that I need people around me, since united we soar unimaginable heights!

Dear ones, our country is made up of 42 tribes for a reason; the reason which says that we all exist to complement one another. Believe me when I say that Kenya would be a very boring land without the Maasai culture marked by the Maasai lesos, morans with red hair, spears, and cows; what a plainly boring land it would be without the pictures of the Luo men fishing in Lake Victoria and their women balancing heavy baskets full of fish as they take them to the market…the list of the spectacular sights we see from various tribe’s cultures is endless… I bet you agree with me that, indeed, this is a beautiful country! I therefore, beseech thee, let us appreciate one another. The differences exhibited by each individual, clan, tribe, are what make our country to shine with beauty. Remember, one Meru may be hot tempered but not all of them, just like one Kikuyu can be willing to give anything to have money, but not all Kikuyus.

Happy and peaceful 2015 to you!

An Article by Sarah Makena

Co-founder Ukabila Zi Society

Purpose Accomplished at Death? Only God Knows…

My sweet mama is now 75 years of age. I thank God for her life; the God of Kirinyaga has preserved her life since she was born years before the State of Emergency was declared in Kenya. She was unique; a ‘white girl’ with black hair. Many a young man would come from villages far and wide to see this ‘white girl’ who had black, long, shiny hair...oh was my mama beautiful? She was not tall and not short, she had a beauty gap in between her teeth on the upper jaw…probably now you understand where I borrow some features from (wink). Oh mama, the woman who brought eight of us, my siblings and I, to this world. Today, we are six out of the eight, who mama gracefully carried in her womb and raised amidst all the challenges of motherhood and hard economic times. One thing, however, happened as she later narrated to me when she was sure I had grown up enough to understand. 

One day, she carried her 3 year old third born child, a son whom she had named after my uncle from my baba’s side; they went to the shamba, to tend to her arrow-roots near the river. That day my eldest brother, her second born son, had gone to school, he was in nursery school; mama was determined to educate all her children despite the fact that she was denied education. Yes, her mama, my grandma, decided that mama would not join school during the Emergency in 1950’s because she feared that mama’s mind would get ‘corrupted’ by the ‘white man’; she preferred that mama stayed at home and helped her fetch water. Despite this, mama clearly understood the importance of education. Therefore, when she enrolled her second born son in school, mama was left with no choice but to always bring along with her the youngest son to the shamba. She did not have anyone else to look after the young boy.

As usual, she put the boy on the ground, in the shade of a tree, and went to tend to her arrow-roots. It was a beautiful sunny day, rain had poured two days earlier and the arrow-roots had sprung back to life. Their leaves, very green, were swayed from side to side by the morning breeze, a motion that revealed the sparkling drops of water, which resembled ice-crystals in the morning sun. The nearby Kiwe River was full of life as the clear waters collected from rain and various springs uphill made their way down hill and smoothly swept every bend in the canal. The water was clear, as clear as rain water...this was a rare sight because Kiwe River passes through some lands that have brown loam soil, which dissolves in the water during the rainy season and turns the water brown; actually, my mum always avoided fetching water from Kiwe River until two weeks after a heavy downpour. For those two weeks, she would use the water she had trapped from the rusty roofs of our house into her black plastic container. 

A bright day can be mistaken to be a day of fortunes and when the opposite happens, we tend to draw a lot of conclusions; we suspect all types of causes…evil people who do not wish us well, malicious beings who are after our happiness, whose aim is to cause us bad luck and misfortunes. I must say it takes a strong God-fearing heart to know that sometimes things happen, not because of malicious people but because of God’s will, natures will if you prefer. One day my mama told me, “sometimes, it is nature’s only way of teaching us some real difficult lessons, other times it is God’s only way of taking back what He had given to us, for each one of us has a purpose on earth, the purpose of which only the Creator knows.” She went on, “None of us knows when their purpose in the world is complete.” 

According to mama, my brother who I never got to meet, cried and cried, he did not stop crying no matter what mama gave him, he was rushed to hospital but he was not sick, the  doctor could not prescribe any medicine, the boy cried  up to midnight when he finally stopped…up to this day. The following day, mama sort answers and could not find any, her friends and relatives came up with all sorts of theories, but none could be proven, none has ever been proven up until this day. Despite the pain, mama learnt to accept some happenings the hard way; she accepted that her son was gone, that she would never hear her son cry again, that her son would never make noise for her to listen while she tended to her arrow-roots at Kiwe River. 

This story saddens my heart every time I think about it. However, it teaches me a big lesson, which I very much appreciate, that each one of us has been created for a purpose, the purpose which we never know when it is accomplished, and only then, after fulfilling our purpose does the creator come back to take that which is His. 

I remember listening to Dr. Myles Munroe a few weeks before he passed on, as he passionately talked about living a purposeful life on JKL Live in one of Kenya’s Television channels. His words moved me and from hence, I decided to determine my purpose in life and fulfill it. A few weeks later, when Dr. Munroe passed on I was shocked, I fought back tears; this was a man I had listened to three weeks ago and now he was no more, I had woken up that morning to news that this transformational man of God had died in a plane crash. Then, I realized just how short life is; I appreciated the reason for living a purposeful life as I fondly remembered when Dr. Munroe declared on national television, here in Kenya, that he was completely emptying himself to fulfill the purpose for which he was created on earth; with these words Dr. Munroe had prophesied his end time. 

Today, however, I ask myself, “How many people get a chance to prophesy their end time?” As this question lingers in my mind, I remember that my late brother, who passed on at the age of three, who cried and cried for hours until midnight did not prophesy his death, otherwise mama could have been psychologically prepared to accept whatever befell her. I write this article with a grieving heart, this is not because I have lost any loved one, a favor which I cannot forget to thank God for. Believe me; crossing over to a new year, safe and sound, is not a mere favor, glory, glory, to the Most High. But look, it saddens me that even at this time and age, many a people have not appreciated nature’s will, that each one of us has a purpose on earth, and once the purpose is accomplished, despite one’s age, the creator shall fold our old skins, work tools, and carry us to a place neither of us has been to before; a place where we shall leave and never return to our loved ones!

I refuse to be convinced otherwise! I strongly believe in creation, the Supreme God, nature, and purpose…otherwise, only the poor would be condemned to die at a tender age and the rich to live forever. Money does not buy life; only the Almighty, who most of us believe in, knows the day and the hour, and when He decides that your purpose in this paradise is accomplished, He folds your work tools and whisks you off to another place where you live with angels happily ever after! 

To all the souls that have left us, “May you Rest in Eternal Peace”

Happy New Year readers…I wish you abundant blessings in this New Year 2015!

An article by Gladys Muthara.