Questioning Religion

According to Desmond Tutu: “When the missionaries first came to Africa, they had the Bible and we had the land. They said, “Let us pray.” We closed our eyes. when we opened them, we had the Bible and they had the land!” Was he right?

I don’t know where to start with this one. Normally i usually have a clue of what i actually want to say. With this shit, i dunno. It is strange and weird to question what i have always known. It is weird to think along those lines and i feel like i am wrong. Yet I can’t stop.

Religion; Opium of masses…. What we turn to. Where we go. Every human got this innate desire to look for a supreme power. For me, it has been Christ and God. I have never questioned that until when i was in my teens. My mum said something about wishing we always followed the old ways. She is a good Christian. When i questioned her, she said she only believed in Christ because he shed blood.

‘Blood has always been powerful. When our fathers wanted rains, they shed blood. When they sought out forgiveness, they shed blood. When they were breaking curses, they shed blood. So there is definite power in the blood. Those people born naturally with destructive powers for something they admire, they wre cheated into looking at blood and they lost that power for a while. Then it was repeated until they would learn to control it. Blood is really powerful.’

‘Why would you doubt the religion then?’ I ask.
She looks at me at shakes her head.

‘They came with the Bible. When we were busy learning about their religion, they took our land. They tortured our people.. They raped, they mutilated, they oppressed.. There is nothing they did not do. They turned us against each other. Yet, their religion is supposed to be about love.” This i hear from one of my friends who is in pursuit of our traditional ways.

I open my whatsapp messenger and am met by a song that is played currently but was composed by the freedom fighters as a prayer.. It is so close to our day in day out prayers, yet those who fought hadn’t embraced the religion..
As i look into it, one of my other friends sends me verses from the Bible that encourage slavery. I am going crazy trying to explain, just like my mum, I believe in the power of the blood. But, I can’t help question everything..

Well, here is the song in my local language, i will try my best to translate it and would love to hear any comments or thoughts..

Ngai Mwega we mûtangîri wa ita {Good God who minds the army]
Mwamûkîri magongona ma andû airû [Who accepts black people’s sacrifices]
Ngai ûrî mbere tûtingîhotwo nî thûû [God if you are before us, our enemies can defeat us]
Mwene Nyaga;Twakûhoya [owner of the dazzling light, we pray unto you]

Tûhoyaga wendani na gîtîo [We pray for love and respect]
Na thaa nyingî cia wendo wa rûûrîrî [Lots of mercy for the love of the tribe]
ûiguano wa Gîkûyû na Mûmbi [For good relations between Gikuyu and Mumbi]
Mwene Nyaga;Twakûhoya [Owner of Dazzling Light we pray unto you]

Twakûhoya tûkonana twî ithuothe [ We pray that we shall all see each other]
Kuuma Ngong’u nginya karîma tûra [ From Ngong’ to Tura mountains]
Hîndî îyo kîeha nîgîgathira [Then our sadness will end]
Njamba cia ita,na aciari aitû [Army warriors, and our parents]

Î kamatimù mûrûagîra ûkombo [Kamatimu fights slavery]
Njamba cia ita ikîrûîra bûrûri [Amy warriors fighting for the country]
Twatigîirwo nî Gîkûyû na Mûmbi [Left to us by Gikuyu and Mumbi]
Mwene Nyaga, Twakûhoya [Owner of Dazzling Light we pray unto you]

Ngai Mwega we mûtangîri wa ita
Mwamûkîri magongona ma andû airû
Ngai ûrî mbere tûtingîhotwo nî thûû
Mwene Nyaga;Twakûhoya

Tûhoyaga wendani na gîtîo
Na thaa nyingî cia wendo wa rûûrîrî
ûiguano wa Gîkûyû na Mûmbi
Mwene Nyaga;Twakûhoya

Î we Ngai, î we Ngai [Oh God, Oh God]
Ngai wa maithe maitû Nowe Ngai, [ God of our forefathers you the only God]
Nîwe Ngai ;Mwene Nyaga Ngai ,nowe Ngai [You are God, Owner of Dazzling light, the only God]
We no we Ngai [You are the only God]
We watoranîirie njamba cia ita [You won battles for the army warriors]

As I look at this prayer which makes more sense untranslated, i can’t help wonder what would have happened if they did not come all this way to teach us their ways?

The problem with pain

It may sound like one of the CS Lewis books, but trust me it isn’t.

You toss and turn in your bed. You can’t sleep .Your pillow is soaked in tears. Your eyes are heavy.. You wish for sleep or something to numb the pain. Nothing you try works. Absolutely nothing.


You don’t wake up… because you never slept in the first place.. You can’t think of a reason to go on with life.. You drag yourself out of bed looking haggard.. no appetite..

You look around and think that nobody understands your pain. How can they know? Nobody can identify with what you are going through. At some level you are right because we all handle pain in different ways.. We are all affected at different levels. I however want to sound cliche here.. “Nothing is new under the sun. Everything that is here, has been experienced” Lost a parent? Has happened.. Lost a kid? Yup.. It has happened.. Lost everything? Do I need to keep saying it has happened? You get the gist . it..


All I want to encourage is letting someone in. Let them help you with the pain. Let someone hold you.. Let someone listen to you.. Let someone fight with you. If you are spiritual like me talk it to God. When I have found myself in painful situations, I call my best friend. Most times there is nothing she can do physically, but at least I know I have someone on my side and trust me it has gotten me through lots of shit..

With pain, nobody can prep you enough on what to expect or how you are gonna  feel… nobody tells you how it is gonna hurt like a bitch.. Nobody can prepare you for pain. .And yes, nobody can understand your pain… All I can do is encourage you to share it out.. Let someone know how it feels.. Don’t fight alone.. You can even reach out online…

With the rising number of suicide cases in the country I can’t help but hope that someone will read this and want to fight. Do reach out, even to me… {you got to buy me food though.. sorry. I suck and I know it} but honestly don’t give up without trying. Wishing every other Kenyan a fighting spirit.  Let us all be our brothers keeper. Help soak off some pain in any way you can.

Somebody could always use a hug

Normal women’s handbag vs my handbag

Am trying to be normal people.. am trying.. in my pursuit to normalcy, I checked out a friend’s handbag.. 

1. Lipstick

2. Hairbrush.. (jeez.. her hair is braided. What’s a brush for?)

3. Lip balm.. (really??)

4. Sunscreen.. eerrr.. what’s that for? 

5. Hand lotion.. (are we moving out or something?)

6. Petroleum jelly.. someone kill me already.

7. Panty liners and pads.. pads really?? Pads should show up in the handbag during that time.. Liners.. oh well.. lucky suckers.. they get to get into my bag too.

8. Charger.. totally normal

9. Tissue and wipes… (rolls my eyes)
My handbag.

1. Liners.. oh well.. at least am normal

2. Hand sanitizer.. I might need to start eating somewhere I can’t access water.. and honestly I can’t afford upset stomach.. I would be dysfunctional..

3. Bread.. eerrr.. wait.. somewhere during the day I will be offered tea. It’s only wise to have my own bread.

4. Plums.. remember me? The villager? There’s no way plums season is passing me by without feeding daily on them.

5. Dewormer.. it’s been long.. I have to maintain a clean stomach to keep the appetite.. this is normal people.. it’s normal.

6. Charger and earphones.. duh!! What did you expect? 

7. Tissue.. am only human..

8. Coffee satchet.. what would I do if I start feeling sleepy people? What would I do? Am equipped.. 

Well, as I go through security check.. the guard is smiling at me weirdly.. 

Creepy humans..

Enjoy your weekend and keep safe!!!

Droplets of kindness

‘You know, death is just.. I dunno.. I prefer if someone gets sick and lets us hope they will either make it or die.  Look at Ayeiya.. guy dies without even a goodbye. It is so very sad.. He should have survived, gone the hospital and maybe succumbed.. that prepares us,’ I say to Linet as I toy with my mug of tea.

We are in a very small hotel taking our lunch hoping time drags itself by before we get back to business.
On our table is our partner and a strange young woman who has a kid. They are talking about babies..

‘Look at how easily women with babies click easily.. ‘ Linet says and I pause to look at them. I shrug and stare at some guy who has tattoos all over his arms..

Well, not a pretty sight.
As we chat, we catch bits of the conversation between the two women.
Time rushes by and when we pay up, our partner offers to pay lunch for the woman.
We sense something and ask if we can back her up. She gladly takes us up on our offer.

As we leave, our partner shakes her head sadly
‘That woman needs fare.. she needs to get home and get good food’

‘Why?’ Linet and I ask simultaneously.

‘Well, life is full of shit. A cheating bastard who beats her up. She covers her head as a Muslim.. there’s a scar beneath that scarf. Her kid hasn’t breastfed in the last 3 days. It’s super weak and has jaundiced eyes.. I doubt if it can cry. She is weak and shaking. That’s why I started talking to her. The damn kid is maximum 3 weeks. She said she just spent her last bit of cash on food so she won’t pass out.
She can go home to her grandmother. No fare..’

‘Is she genuine?’ Linet asks

‘She can’t fake weakness or scar or kid with jaundiced eyes due to starvation’ she counters..

‘Let’s pay her a ticket and get her home’ I say and it’s a plan.

We walk in the streets of Nairobi hoping this woman is real and she will find someone who cares.
Our partner holds her bag, Linet walks on her side and I hold the light but very warm infant in my arms. I can’t help but hope that the kid grows up well. I also enjoy the respect on the roads of the ever busy Matatu drivers letting me pass and the touts wishing ‘my baby’ good health..

I can’t help smile when someone who tries pushing past me is almost beaten up.. in my arms is a life; though very fragile.

We pay her bus ticket and buy her soda for quick energy. She waves up bye with grateful eyes and we rush back to work. We are 45 minutes late.. and stink of sweat with dusty shoes..

We can’t help smiling as we think, in the little pond of kindness in this world.. we just added a droplet..

Tuesday Rant

Well, every damn thing seems set against me this time.. Even my very old unmarried friend (am not mentioning Faith Kaibere) dared start war on Facebook about my marital status .. what to say *sighs*.. The stars are just against me man..

Just a few days ago, I was to shop for a girl. I couldn’t access her because of the children’s home regulations so I had to send cash. Just yesterday, she called me up. She doesn’t have some stuff.. well, some of the cash I sent disappeared miraculously… or maybe we are back to the era of magic? In my status, I seriously could believe so.

As if that’s not enough, someone I want to believe in me so badly stated that he/she doesn’t..
Damn…. I never thought this day would ever come.

Well, as if that’s not enough, my lip succumbed to I dunno what. I woke up swollen and feeling like crap.. I think some really good flu is catching up with me…


Seriously can’t bad things spread out and happen one at a time?

Anyway, lemme go back to sleep.. Life is darn short.. I will smile (though my lip won’t cooperate) when I can always.
Blessed week folks.

Mr Politician

Yo man… eer.. I mean Honourable member.
It’s been long sir. So long. 2012? Right?

I started with voter registration. I was so excited. It was my first election…

You urged.. you pleaded. You appeared. Promises.. Roads, power, railway, funds.. development..

In kindness of my heart, I woke up at 5 a.m.. I was going to vote change. So I left. 13 hours later, I returned home. This country, my motherland, my county, my ward was gonna develop. You said it after all. You supported Mr president..

He was gonna slay giants….
Corruption, Health sector, education… 

It has been 4 years.

Well done Mr Politician.
We have improved. Our position in corruption as a country has tremendously improved. We are competing for the most corrupt..

Look at our health sector sir. Aren’t you impressed?? Well, I am. Doctors haven’t touched their coats. Those that can’t afford private hospitals are dying..

But then sir, ain’t it a good thing? The more that die, the better for us as a country, right? We will have more resources..

Well, about education… The dons have abandoned the Regular programme. Did I tell you my mum is a farmer? She can barely afford regular programme. But didn’t your daughter fly to Cambridge? No? She is in Daystar??
Oh… you meant United States International University??
Wow… well, it’s good now my brother is out of the public University of Nairobi.. your daughter will shine.

Now though sir, it’s a bit okay with me if you want me to rise up early, register as a voter…
Come August, I will fight all those that aren’t of my tribe.. I will fight my fellow farmers whose sons and daughters are in the University of Nairobi.
I will fight those that are dying with me as we wait for the doctors to get paid and go back to work.

I have no intention of mentioning the campaign money that’s being spent. I swear on my grandmother’s grave not to ponder if voter registration is more important than health..

I will also bite my tongue if I dare to remind you the only thing that has improved in this country is the level of corruption.. well, two things.. and your sagging belly..

I will register as a voter sir. I promise I will rise early to vote you in. I promise to fight those not of my tribe.  Those that can keep your from maintaining your belly fat.. I promise sir.. I promise.

But can you please do something? That footbridge that your campaign vehicles broke, can you at least not pass there again??


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