Her Thought Piece

Someday you will arrive too late to say sorry  I will have made up my mind to go on with life like you never happened On that day you will not find me drowning in the pain that loving you has caused me,  at the corner of my bed You will not wake up to find my texts blowing up your phone, screaming i love you or where are you or anything Read full piece here (my new blog) >> One Day Too Late

 Today I saw a boy of about 7 years standing and staring outside from his bedroom window. With a firm grip on the grills, I saw him cry as he watched his mum vanish into a taxi heading to the city. He cried louder when the taxi roared as she lowered the backseat window to wave goodbye. I felt something in my throat and in my eyes, like a sharp pain and tears. She’s left him with her parents back in the village where she visits, barely. This is what the boy has been used to for at least 7 years. A mum who shows up for two days and probably once annually. She is not so busy at the city but she just does not want to be at the village, I suppose. Where most people know she is not just a young pretty woman but a mother who bore a son in her teens. Because I know better, I wouldn’t want to judge a teenage/single mother though I need to ask, ’’What do you see in your son when you visit, just a child who doesn’t know a thing? Do you know he feels you are not there for him, that you cann

Sitting at the verge of terror Kenya is here yet again. Same old pulpit Where we stand preaching peace We are scared of streets streaming blood We will be damned if lives are lost But what peace do we need? Staying in or out, leading normal lives? Peace of mind? What does the future hold For us Kenyans Will it be another struggle, For many years to come To make ends meet Will this peace Calm the bitterness between tribes Bring fairness and transparency in our system I pray this call for peace Is a call for justice A peace that should let us sit back Because we know our leaders will serve That they will crawl out of their greed and pride And put this nation in its place The Place of honor and dignity Not a realm of dynasties May peace be justice To all my fellow Kenyans.

She sat there At the Window pane Streaming into the galaxy Trynna put a finger Onto every glistening star It was hush Until when fireworks Blew up into delightful colors A Herald of a new year Oh she too was surprised But she knew it was coming Maybe it slipped her mind Or its not all that Anyway it made her anxious Everything There always resolutions Written , thought or not She didn't want a glimpse Of what it brought She only liked the idea Of walking blind folded While playing treasure hunt She felt grown Time was racing Faster than her steps She's already out on her own And worse people are watching It was time to draw From the plenty of dreaming And go back to sleeping She closed her eyes and it felt like it was then That she started living afresh.

      Love should be the most complicated feeling that humans possess. I don’t mean love for family and ice-cream in this case, I mean romantic love. Love is such a big word and sacred in its every form. In whichever way you get involved in romantic love; whether you sought after it or it finds you, be sure it will wreck you and push you to dangerous edges. No one is too smart for love; not the psychologists nor the love doctors or a 50-year old happily married couple. No one is too prepared for what love brings forth because I believe that as unique as our fingerprints are so is every relationship we get involved in. the only constant factor in humans is the fact that they are actually human and everything else changes with the wind, you can never be too sure. From the little I have seen and heard I know I have no right to judge anyone and the decisions they make in their relationships. I cannot point my retributory finger towards a 23-year old girl who clings on to an abusive re

Is being different so weird? I hear people say onto themselves, look at her she’s so weird. Another jumps in “how do people even associate with her, her boyfriend must be weird too… I don’t know who can even stand her.” and then I wonder, what defines weird? All I know any ‘weird’ person is different. She’s the girl who’d rather stay home on a Friday night than go partying, or who doesn’t entertain boys with herself. Or it’s the boy who doesn’t tease girls or he who doesn’t speak so much yet he has the brightest ideas. So the ‘normal’ people never quite understand what goes on in this other side... because normal people are happy most of the time, they know humor and find everything rather amusing, they know how to have fun partying, road trips and hang with the cool people... Normal people are simply basic... knowing too much gets you the weird title, being angry at things and not laughing. normal people are social, they have so many friends, they are confident, life

shes doing it wrong loving , and being true to him shes asking for something in silent whispers in cryptic impulses she wants perfection in her fullest control she wants a touch of her fantasy she lives by the moment she hangs on to every passing thought shes on the look out for those pricking flings shes selfish hes selfish shes obssessed with her and so is he but she never forgets how many times does she stay sleepless tossing and whining in hurt or resentment she wants a reciprical she wont say it she will peek the next day through the corners of her eyes and afraid she will see she will boil in her anger she will walk away she will say the worst but never what she should she doesnt retrieve joy from hurting the one she loves but shes hiding from something from asking for too much shes failed miserably at closure maybe having secrets and a tinted face keeps her alive yes she can trust but the tension of her well of tears is holding her b