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Date Posted: July 27, 2016
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Entitlements and unrealistic expectations from Kin

Half brothers Barack & Malik Obama

Half brothers Barack & Malik Obama

I am an African, a proud one, note the pride. Still some things make  me stoop my head in shame to be called an African. One of them is the sense of entitlement that we have on our relatives.

Coming from a community where relatives expect so much from you yet they never lifted a finger to help you get to where you currently are. Don’t get me wrong, I am not a bitter bitch out there to revenge on relatives for not helping me out when I needed them.

If they helped me every time I was in need, I wouldn’t be as resilient and hardworking as I am. Those situations also made me meet people who helped propel me to my destiny. I digressed a little from the topic… I am not talking  about myself. I am illustrating how we have unrealistic expectations on our relatives and as a result, we waste our time being so bitter with everyone.

The disease of entitlement is what we are witnessing from Barack Obama’s half brother, Malik Obama. I believe that he has the right to vote whoever he wants. I however have an issue with sentiments that Obama has done little to help his family back in Kenya. Give the guy a break! If you were in his shoes, what would you have done? Helped the whole community? Those that you don’t even know?

I believe, and I stand to be corrected, that Barack Obama has done so much to improve his grandmother, Mama Sarah Obama’s life. This in turn has trickled down to the community, from Mama Sarah’s philanthropic projects.

Well, enough ranting on disgruntled relatives. I too have my fair share of those to deal with. As we know you can never please everyone.

You can’t please everyone. When you’re too focused on living up to other people’s standards, you aren’t spending enough time raising your own. Some people may whisper, complain and judge. But for the most part, it’s all in your head. People care less about your actions than you think. Why? They have their own problems! Kris Carr

Date Posted: June 14, 2016
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SwaRnB preserving Kenyan musical identity

SwaRnB

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Have Kenyan musicians lost their sense of identity? Most upcoming Kenyan musicians are leaning toward hip hop and other foreign genres.

People have different opinions concerning this fact. I had a chat with an Artist promoter on this topic and he told me that for a very long time, Kenyans lived in fear of creativity. His theory is that we were exposed to foreign music for more than 24 years, so our upcoming artistes produce what they grew up listening to.

Professor Mike Kuria of Daystar University, however differs with this theory. He says that during the period that Kenya was under tyrannical rule, was also the period that saw the birth of many creative works. Examples being A Grain of Wheat by Ngugi Wa Thiong’o and Micere Mugo’s works that caused them to go into exile.

Back to music… Ted Josiah has produced many hip hop Kenyan artists. The likes of Kalamashaka, and Necessary Noize. He has taken up a new project, producing a more localized genre of Music- SwaRnB. He is doing this through his new studio Sand Stone Studio (S3 studio).

SwaRnB is a genre that reflects the soul and identity  of Kenyans. Through the new record label, he has produced Mswazzi Masauti, Kelmah Shiko, and Vivian Olang.

Watch a video about the rationale for coming up with this localized genre.

As a country we have accepted and legalized Swahili as our official language. Even though it has been hard to make us all adopt Kiswahili as our primary culture, the fact that we have accepted this language that has International outlook from Arab, Portugal, Chinese and West Africa influences as the preferred medium of communication across the country means appreciation and adoption of Kiswahili by all shouldn’t be harder than promoting Swahili. As a culture, Kiswahili has its cuisine, attire and music, and it is the music – music entrenched in deep poetry and soul reaching lyrics, that Tedd has borrowed to create a new wave, a new culture, a new identity – the SwaRnB Movement.

Date Posted: May 3, 2016
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Celebrating different shades of phenomenal moms #StillAMum

Mom

Dear Mama,

I wonder what your smile would be like. I only remember you on photos. I can say confidently that you were such a beautiful woman. Many times I try to ask questions of who you were. I remember closing my eyes and imagining you smiling. That was when I was a little girl, too timid to ask why my birth certificate had a different name in place of mother’s name.

Life has taught me to ask questions and be bold enough to air my views. I hope it is not too late for me. Even writing this letter is a step toward breaking the shackles I have lived under for years. I was taught for years that talking to the dead was evil, so I resisted the urge to write you letters. I must confess it is not very easy for me, even as I write this, tears are actually flowing down my cheeks.

Oh, how I miss you. Just the other day, did I learn of your untimely death at 29 years. You died when I was 7 years old, yet I never knew you. I have many other questions that I seek answers to. I hope I’ll piece all pieces of this puzzle someday. Sometimes I just want to talk to you, ask you these questions, share my frustrations and joys, have you see me through my triumphs.

Speaking of which, do you know I once experienced motherhood? How I miss little David kicking in my belly. I was really naïve; I couldn’t tell that I was in labor. I ended up giving birth outside on our way to hospital. Little David, oh! He coughed due to the cold of the night that welcomed him to this world. I wished mama was there as nurse Aggie. Maybe you would have taken good care of this ignorant teenager who had just had a baby in the cold. I remember seeing his beautiful face and whispering to him, “You are Aggie’s grandchild, you know?”

You left me with a mother. She did her best to raise me into the woman that I am today. She raised me like her own, not mentioning your memories. You were a secret in our house. That is why I couldn’t ask questions about you.  When I was pregnant, I became so close to mom Rose.

Even through the hurdles that life has dealt us, I still go to mum Rose for advice. She is the one who stood by me when little David decided to follow you. It was such a heart wrenching moment that I am yet to recover from 13 years later. Anyway, I have my 13-year-old niece to give me a smile. While we were burying little David, my sister Sellah was in hospital, giving birth to Beryl. Sellah now has three children you know?

I have a friend whose name reminds me of you. She is Agnes Obutu. She was my high school teacher. She welcomed me to live with her family when I was doing my KCSE. She is a mother to a boy living with autism. She has three boys. This woman is one of my mothers. Even though I went silent on her when I discovered I was pregnant, she did not judge me when she finally knew my story. She is one of the people pushing me to write a memoir. Someday I will.

Mom, I know you were a learned woman. You would have loved me to be as learned, yet you were not here to educate me. Mom Tamar Abrams took that up. She fund-raised for my diploma education and sent me to university. This is despite her having her own Hannah Lily, who she had through IVF. I respected her more when I read the story she wrote. Hannah is a beautiful young lady whom I have been friends with and hope to meet someday. Tamar has such a big heart for children. She is in fact a foster mother to many.

There is Elaine Wilson who is not yet a mother. She took over paying my school fees through undergraduate. Even now, she writes me messages. “Are you ok? How is your health? This is despite her being just a year older than me. What can you call such a friend? I simply call her Rafiki- My Canadian friend. I am sure she will be a phenomenal mom.

Mom, there are friends who have lost babies that remind me of the pain I went through. Sometimes I lack words to comfort them. These are times when I just go and cry together with them. Last month, we went to Langatta Cemetary to burry Edwina’s two-year-old Gabriel. I remember telling her that she was still a mum. She asked me, tears in her eyes, “Whose mom?”

I can’t forget the mothers who have carried their babies, felt them kicking, experienced morning sickness, gained weight, only to lose their unborn babies, either pre-term, or when giving birth.

This reminds me of Angelah, who had the first baby through CS, and went back home without her baby. Her bundle of joy was a still birth. The next time she carried another pregnancy, gave birth through Cesarean Section, a healthy baby boy. Just when we were getting ready to go celebrate with her, I received a message from her sister Anne, that Angelah died of CS complication. She left her son behind.

I can’t sign off this letter without telling you about Anne Pendo. She was almost due when her sister died. It broke my heart seeing her crying, mourning her sister when she was so pregnant. Right now, she is a single mother to little handsome, 18 month old Jedidiah. I salute her for her courage, carrying the pregnancy as a single mother in church.

Mom, even as I celebrate you today, I want to also celebrate all types of mothers out there. The single moms, stepmoms, foster moms, IVF moms, adoptive mums, mums who have lost their babies and mums who ended up dying and left their babies living.

This mothers’ day, know that you are still a mum. I am also telling myself that no matter what happened, I am also still a mum. When the right time comes, I will hold my baby. Meanwhile, there are a lot of precious babies and children around me to love. Happy mother’s day to all my mums and friends who are mums.

With love from Juls,

Your Daughter and Friend.

Date Posted: April 11, 2016
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Keep out of children’s reach

Black girl

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I have a brilliant niece- Beverly Rose. This girl asks tough questions for an eight year old. She is also one of those children who will not sit and look at a mess. She will clear and clean up the house, even attempt to do the dishes despite her vertical challenge.

Yesterday, I paid them a visit and was massively entertained. She is not known to laugh loudly. She just says things that make others laugh while she looks at them like… “What are you laughing at?”

As it turns out, Bev has been under the weather lately. She has been experiencing some respiratory issues. Her mother took her to hospital. She was given a dosage of Ventolin syrup with the recommendation of 700ml times three. Now, Bev being the responsible eight year old she is, was left at home after being given the morning dosage of Ventolin.

As expected, Bev would naturally take the lunch time dosage of medicine. Bev being my sister’s last born, she does not have a house help. After all, if her last born is this responsible, what’s the need for a house help?

Come evening, my sister asked her daughter,

“Mom, did you take your medicine?”

Bev: “No.”

“Why didn’t you? It says here, you take it three times.”

Bev: “Mom, am I a child?”

“Yes mom, you are a child.”

Bev: “It also says on the pack, ‘Keep from reach of children’. I saw that and kept off.”

How responsible?

Date Posted: April 4, 2016
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Menstruation an uncomfortable topic #AlwaysStandUpKe

Always Brand Ambassdor Kenya Basketball captain Silalei Owour donating sanitary pads at Raila Education Center (Kibera)

Always Brand Ambassdor Kenya Basketball captain Silalei Owour donating sanitary pads at Raila Education Center (Kibera) Photo: BAQE TV Facebook

This morning I passed by the supermarket, picked my snack and dashed to the till. The supermarket is usually short of staff in the mornings, so one or two counters are functional.

There was a queue on this single counter, which provided time to notice contents of people’s shopping baskets. I noticed among other things, the lady standing before me was carrying two cans of yoghurt and a double pack of Always sanitary pads. My attention was not drawn to the yoghurt; it was captured by the latter.

Just then, I realized that the secrecy with which we handle matters menstruation, and reproduction is in fact due to social conditioning. It does exist even in ladies. Evidently- it happened to me. I am a lady, I use these things, so why the cringe?

Do you remember the first time you asked a question about menstruation as a child? I do. At the age of nine. I asked a cousin of mine who was preparing cotton wool and wrapping them in tissue paper, what the things were for. She said, “you will know when you grow up”. Because I grew up knowing how to avoid topics that made people uncomfortable, I did not pursue it further.

I only came to have an idea what those cotton wrappings were for in class seven, when a team from Always came to our school to educate us on menstrual hygiene. They even gave us free sanitary pads, preparing us for puberty. Even late bloomers like myself were covered. I used my free hamper four years later.

My first time buying myself sanitary pads, further enforced the belief that those were things to be handled discreetly. I remember the teller at the supermarket wrapping it nicely with a newspaper, before placing it in a paper bag. This was a well-meaning teller, careful to save a teenage me from embarrassing stares. So, the contents of my shopping bag had to be concealed.

I wonder though why they didn’t find it necessary to wrap other consumables like milk or soap using newspapers and cello tape first.

Many girls do not get the privilege of getting the grand lesson of puberty from their parents because the topic is rather uncomfortable. These parents do not know how to broach the sensitive topic of sexuality. It is not their fault though; it is a generational thing. These have always been taboo subjects that are relegated to teachers.

We need to be more open about uncomfortable matters. This is why Always have been running the #AlwaysStandUpKe campaign, to encourage women to share stories of standing up for what they believe in. Well I believe in changing firmly held perceptions, by treating normal things like puberty and sexuality with ease, because they are normal milestones.

You can now stand up and keep a girl in school by dropping your donations of sanitary pads at any Nakumatt or Naivas supermarket branch.

Always Gift Hamper

I have a gift hamper from Always. What is your experience dealing with the issue of menstruation? Do you have a girl who you’d like to nominate to receive the gift hamper? Give us the stories on the comments section and we will select the winner. To qualify for the giveaway, you have to comment by Wednesday 6th April, 2016.

Date Posted: March 23, 2016
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A Malindi court judgement vs Kenyan Law on Defilement

Photo credit: BBC

Photo credit: BBC

I do not belong to the law profession, but posts like these make me dive to that unfamiliar territory. There’s this case that was ruled at a Malindi court on 10th March, 2016.

The Kenyan Sexual offenses act Section 8 (4) states: A person who commits an offence of defilement with a child between the age of sixteen and eighteen years is liable upon conviction to imprisonment for a term of not less than fifteen years.

8 (1): A person who commits an act which causes penetration with a child is guilty of an offence termed defilement.

Section 8 (5) states: It is a defense to a charge under this section if—
(a) it is proved that such child, deceived the accused person into believing that he or she was over the age of eighteen years at the time of the alleged commission of the offence; and
(b) the accused reasonably believed that the child was over the age of eighteen years.

The judge ruled that the accused should be let free because the minor, acted like an adult. “Having had sex from 2009- February 2011, the victim behaved like an adult and not a child who was being lured or seduced for the first time. She enjoyed the relationship and the pregnancy accidentally brought the relationship to an abrupt end.”

Now let’s put this case on context. Malindi, on the Kenyan coast is famous for its sex tourism and child pornography. As this article by the BBC states: Kenya’s coastal town of Malindi may look like a tropical paradise but is host to a hidden child sex trade. Children as young as 12 say they are being lured into prostitution and pornography by tourists willing to pay handsomely for sex in secret locations.

Yet another article by Parselelo Kantai in the Africa Report says that a culture of early marriages in the community morphed, driven by tourism, into a child sex trafficking industry.

It is cases like these that informs the work of organizations like Art and Abolition. They rescue girls who have been driven to sexual slavery due to poverty.

Back to the case. Even though children nowadays grow very fast. How can one mistake a 13 year old for an adult? In the children’s Act, a “child” means any human being under the age of eighteen years. In counseling, Children who are sexually active are referred to as mature minors. But all the same, they are still minors. I hope the case will be prosecuted accordingly.

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Date Posted: March 17, 2016
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Ask my shoe of our love affair

In love with heels but baby, we’ve got to part.

In love with heels but baby, we’ve got to part.

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I am a typical woman. That statement is loaded with qualities that only women would understand. You know, like having a closet full  of clothes and not being able to find anything worth wearing? Anyone?

Today I’ll not talk about the fullness of my wardrobe  or inadequacy thereof. Today we are all about footwear. You see, I have these gorgeous toenails that need a trendy pair to go with. Someone once told me never to wait for validation from elsewhere. “Celebrate yourself”, he said. So, here’s to me celebrating me.

The thing is I never get shoes that I can walk in comfortably. Just like clothes, my shoe rack is a cemetery of sorts for shoes. It’s either grown too big for my right foot to hold or too small for my right foot, yet while buying them, they seemed to fit perfectly.

Then there’s this problem I have with heels. I know they are gorgeous on my feet, and make me look elegant in photos. I have resigned to be practical. What’s the use of having six inches heels when you can’t find your balance while walking in them?

I know that my birthday is still a long way to come, but just some heads up. Hint hint! Should you feel like blessing this lover of shoes with a pair, please keep off the thin six inches things. We are just avoiding some unpleasant eventualities.

How I miss the good old days when I used to walk in sandals and open shoes. Now, if I dare put on anything without straps, I will kick it while walking and meet it ahead. My right foot cannot hold shoes. It needs support. Which begs the question why there aren’t sandals with straps that hold feet. Why aren’t there slippers for adults with straps? Just thinking out loud.

I look for fashionable flat shoes with straps, and fail to get the right fit. maybe it’s because I am a number 7. My shoe problem is combined  with the big footed girl problems.

Speaking of which, today I just feel like throwing away the pair I am wearing. It is pinching my right foot. I just can’t wait to get home and off these shoes. It was a different story when buying them. They were the darling boots that you’d have to be really blind not to notice. My right foot doesn’t understand that. My right toes cannot fold themselves as my foot expands.

Sometimes I get that pair that fits well. I make it my best friend. I wear it every day. Problem is, the right shoe gets damaged, leaving the left intact. Sometimes I look at my shoes and ask, “are they worn by the same person?”

There’s a bright side in every situation. I get to give away most of my shoes. Sometimes I buy a shoe, walk in it for two three days, when it starts saying, “Darling, I think we need to part.” I oblige. I have learnt to accept things as they are and move on. May be, just maybe, one day I’ll find a shoe that loves me back as much as I love it.

With love from,

Juls.

This post was originally posted on julieinspire