Promise me more…

“I, too, have done my damndest
to kiss and touch and bless
and now I, too, am through with it all
and am simply like the rest” – Barry Taylor I, Too

We all have big dreams. We all want to do something about it. We are all probably up to something then stumbled upon this post.

From when I can remember someone has been promising me one thing or the other with a utopian reward.

“The right one has not been born yet…” “Your business will still work after you are done with your course…” “Finish the exam then we can go for ice-cream…”

Apparently, it will all work out if you do as it pleases this guy, these people… for them it is not the perfect time. For you, you just can’t get rid of the itch. It is obvious where am getting to. You choose your path. But wait there is more…

Promises; promises.

There has not been a shortage of free thinkers (shout out Dr. Stockmann). Every day I hear how people want to change the world with this initiative, reform and leadership. They all promise me the perfect world. Where my starving brother in Turkana and uptown sister will talk about their days in paradise. As long as I vote them in or offer them my friendship.

Thomas Moore proposed the utopian idea some time back. His logic seems radical and idealistic at the moment. The ideals will be easily accepted by any person struggling to make ends meet. But what of the rich that have gotten comfortable. We all know that people don’t find it easy to change. It takes time and effort… it’s sticky and messy. So how do we expect them to change?

Well we don’t… that’s the trick.

“Serikali! Serikali!”

We shan’t beg. We shan’t cry. What is our goal? To be comfortable too… you don’t need to own the whole of Central to be happy. All you need is a happy family, with all their basic needs met. It is violent to not do that for your family.

“All the gold which is under or upon the earth is not enough to give in exchange for virtue.” Plato.

Once the goal is set. Be creative. The beauty of a capitalistic economy is that anyone can get themselves out of the mud.

So get your hands in the mud. Get dirty and build something from it. (Guess which movie that is from… 🙂 )

So if they can get to the top; so can you…

I would not wait for promises that are 50/50. I’ll get on my feet; and do it myself because this is the perfect time.

A Culture Of Lies (Episode 2: The Exam)

10:00 a.m. This is it. This is the final exam. Turn over the paper. There it is… the topic you assumed will never come.

What is this creature? I turn to my right. Everyone is busy writing. It’s 2 hours in and I think I’ve reached the limit of knowledge. People seem to know more… my desk mate has written 3 pages on his essay paper. I’ve 30 minutes. But how do I describe urination for 30 marks? That’s when the warm feeling comes. The sudden drop of sweat from your armpit. You correlate this to men in black repossessing your big house by the lake. Being on the no-loan list. Losing your first wife…

“What is the answer to no.4?” my train of thoughts disrupted. I stare at the guy… like how am I supposed to know? I also need some divine intervention now. I ignore him. And keep on writing my exam.

Papers are being slid on the exam floor. Phones are being pouched. Scrolling on the tablets. Everyone has to go to the bathroom… but still my desk mate writes. Is he the only not struggling here?

“Give me my phone back!” I thought it was me. So I avoiding looking back. “Give me my phone back!” Ok. He is definitely talking to me, right? I turn back. No one is looking at me. So I look forward and there he was. The invigilator, who obviously had nothing better to do than scare me every 10 seconds of how half an hour has passed, looks my way. And we made eye contact.

He walks closer. This is it. I’m done. Now I’m going to be framed for cheating. My passion down the drain, even tears start to materialise… I try to break eye contact by “focusing” on my paper. But his eyes are glue. I keep looking up and he is still looking at me. I look down again… I’ve only written a paragraph. This essay is going nowhere.

Then he gets closer to my desk. And hesitates. I’m already imagining the disappointment on my parents face.

“You and you!” he points behind me. The rest was like a blur of “Please please”. Next thing I hear is: “You have 5 more minutes!” All at once, inspiration came and an essay was produced.

It is a mystery why people cheat… and we will talk about it more this week.

Much Love,
Steja.

A Culture Of Lies (Episode 1: I’m On My Way)

If fairy tales still did exist and so our noses grew longer every time we told a lie, I’m pretty sure most of us would put Pinocchio to shame in the lying game.

Today, I was decided to help my little cousin do her homework as a kind gesture but she gets bored so fast so we decided to take a break every few minutes. After a while, she threw in the towel and exclaimed that there was no use to finish it as she could fabricate a story to tell the teacher as to why she could not do the homework. Amused, I asked her an example of such a “story” and she simply said:

“I did it for hours but couldn’t understand anything, so I thought it would be best you teach me first or I lost it on my way to school” And just to think back in my days we struggled with ridiculous excuses like the dog ate my homework 😀 The innocence she said it with would have had me fooled as well if I was the teacher.

We learn how to lie our way through taxing situations from childhood to avoid the discomfort of having to answer to questions. (Though apparently lying in a child sometimes shows high IQ <not to mean you let your child get away with lying>).

Then it graduates to ridiculous lies like lying to your boss that you have taken leave to attend a relative’s burial only for the said, dead relative to arrive in the office a week later frantically looking for you. Or the famous matatu (minibus) lies of where you happen if you are late for something.

Today, I boarded a matatu and sat next to a young man. No sooner had we began the journey than he received a call from a lady and he suddenly became so apologetic promising he would arrive at their meeting venue in a few minutes as he was already at Prestige (while in reality we had just left town) and if she would wait for him just a bit longer, he would cater for their lunch. He travelled the rest of the journey so uptight and kept texting her to reassure her he was just a few minutes away. But when he arrived at his alighting stage, a lady stood up from the back of the matatu before he stood. “Faith!!” he called out shocked, “I thought you said you had already arrived and were waiting for me?” She seemed dumbfounded for a minute before retorting, “I thought you said you were at Prestige when the matatu was in town”. They were both so embarrassed. The whole matatu burst out laughing. But really, we all do this. We lie about where we are most times we are late.

I need to stop using my excuse of “I’m on University way, give me 5 minutes”…

Much love,
Steja.