My Diary

By Charity Kuria First-year experience: Trying to fit in the wrong cliques, disappointments, the hate, meeting the right and wrong friends. Being rejected and finally finding my own footing. Second-year experience: I now feel grown up enough especially now that I live in a hostel off-campus. I have my own crib and can hit the door frame at own leisure without questions of: "where were you?"  "You want to access the school premises?" "Where is your school ID?"  "Write your name there and contacts. You will be contacted in the morning!” You go to bed horrified of facing tomorrow and if you missed dinner then you are done for and will sleep hungry counting the miiterero . Ha! I have finally discovered the school Canvas Newspaper, Journalism Club, Debate Club, Peer and Counselling Club, Environmental Club and other social gatherings, oh! and the school radio studio. This is nice! Third year. By now I am holding several leadership positions...

Photo:Internet By Wakini Kuria Jimi the Dog by Meja Mwangi remains my all-time favourite childhood reads. I remember the teacher walking in the classroom balancing novels in her arms. Excitement already aroused l shifted to the front centre desk nearest to hers. Back then, l was a chronic backbencher. She started recording who took which book. I would crave my neck upwards trying to see the title and the thickness of the book she held in her hands from where l sat. I wanted the book with most pages. So l sat there watching her dish out books until from the pile she picked what seemed to be the heaviest from amongst the stack and l quickly dashed forward before anyone else. Looking from above her glasses perched on the bridge of the nose she seemed skeptical and voiced as much. "Are you sure utasoma hiki kitabu? " "Yes" l affirmed nodding and waited patiently as she recorded the details on paper. I went back to my backbench desk a ha...

By Wakini Kuria Today has been a rather boring and cold day in the office. There is internet breakdown that has rendered almost all offices there dysfunctional. To top it all l spent the better part of the day alone. Fully charged phones, a desktop and a laptop but no internet! I think l know what depression is. So well after 3pm, the boss walks in. On realising hakuna net he lets me off the day. The joy l feel is almost tangible.  "You going to Limuru? Twende " That's a free ride right there! Behold l do a small jig-dance. Quickly l reach for my small porch from the laptop bag l had carried in the morning slapping shut the laptop leaving it on the desk. Grabbing the office key, l lock up in seconds and mimi huyo walking beside him to his car. On the way, we stop to say hi to a mheshimiwa seated comfortably on a sofa in the lounge. She is on phone so we don't stay. At the car park, his car front passenger door is open and with feet dangling outside is this sho...

Photo:Internet By Wakini Kuria   The other evening l'm stepping out of Kamindi Stores, my niece doesn’t fancy my going home without goodies. My! That kid is growing faster than fast. Already, she is showing possible threats of beating me in height very soon and she is barely ten. OMG! So I walk out obediently carrying my ticket to her good books and being watchful of cars buzzing away and driving into the parking lot outside the stores.  This middle-aged guy files himself in front of me, walking between the small space left between the parked vehicles and the moving vehicles on the road. I’m literally behind him and suddenly from his right foot beneath his trousers rolls out a 20 bob coin that lands on my feet.  I stop to let him pick it and realising that it came from his torn pockets. I tell him’ Mend that hole’ To which he laughs and retorts ‘That’s my wife’s duty!’ With finality…well, such are men… then he continues " She is the one who washes them ...

Photo credit:Internet By Charity Kuria “How did you discover talent?” A question was tossed to Gabriel Dinda the CEO of Writers Guild Kenya. He gave the simplest example ever.  “Suppose you are looking for a misplaced needle in the house. You could decide to ransack the whole place without any particular order with fewer chances of finding it and be sure to have a messy house.  Doesn’t sound appealing. So, why not clean up the place while you still looking for the lost needle? Fold up the clothes nicely. Clean the floor and dust the seats. You will surely find the needle and your house will be in order.” There is absolutely no better way to identify your talent than the above method. Keep doing what you do and do it nicely. This is opposed to just sitting still and racking hard on your brain trying to discover your talent. Gabriel hereby was advocating for doing other things such as work. Probably you are an accountant but have this soft spo...

Photo credit:Internet ByWakini Kuria There are no moments I enjoy most than having the remote control at hand, when someone starts talking of ‘ serikali saidia ’ even on instances where the government has no business. You know!  So your car broke down, serikali saidia , you are stuck in traffic, serikali saidia , so the kids are burning up schools? Serikali saidia, never mind that we are the same people who brought up the damn brats! Remember the old story of a boy who cried ‘oh leopard!’ until one day people got tired of his pranks and never responded to a real distress call. He ended up being the leopard’s meal. I wish you had an idea of just how many prank calls are received at customer care call centres on a daily basis. Now imagine the government being called to respond to pranks calls such as kids burning up schools, traffic jams, collapsing buildings and pouring of illicit liquor. It’s not that I am being careless. No! It’s in my opinion that we a...

By Wakini Kuria When little I vividly remember the evenings when I would have pain on the legs and on the joints. Guka would bandage the foot and the pain would gradually subside. He was a clinical officer you see with a bias to children ailments. My mum, my angel and my rock has literally walked with me on this painful journey. She has carried me on her back to school and around the homestead when the pain got unbearable. She has watched helplessly as her once beautiful and normal daughter 's body gave in to deformity right under her nose. She has gone through all hospitals and religious doors in search of healing for her youngest daughter. She never once lost hope even to date. It took the doctors a long time to discover that I was suffering from arthritis which then was considered as 'ugonjwa ya wazee'  The torment was real as I writhed in bed while the joints got hot with pain, torment was written all over my mum's face whenever she saw p...