FREEDOM MY LOVE By Robben Key-aler

I retire to bed quite late. Seemingly disturbed. My emotions are captive to my thoughts. I think of her, my heart throbs, my emotions fly sky high like aeroplane radder. Twenty years now, have not had a moment or two with her, to share a grin to my utmost joy.
She is a legend. Probably caught up many in a web of admiration, a frenzy of great hope and an ambassador of authentic states. I must confess for one hard to express, whose description is not fit enough to be put via this means. Physique; an assortment of contours and radiant stars. A pearl.
Patience pays; they say. So, I sit each day in my tumbled shack, as seconds tick to minutes, minutes tick to hours, and hours tick to days. Hoping she feels the gravity of this matter on the table, and show her gimmick side.
What I got for her, this atmost insatiable feeling, is not rocket science, its pretty obvious that my intentions are for the best, to show some care, some embrace, some love. But then what comes thereon?
This hungry angry monster. That tores her off to bits. As I watch with mere disbelief. Solemnly feeling agitated, I lay low my ego. No option left, I stay strong and keep well. Aspiring to meet her soon, all blossomed up, with brighter petals.
Not forgetting to thank the greatest potter, that created all in the universe, I remain solely calm knowing that one day she will come to my rescue.
 By

Muia Dennis

SHE LOVES ME;SHE LOVES ME NOT by Robben Key-aler

Roses bloom,
Birds chirp, another day, more dismay,more sunshine, less vision, more tenderness, less torment. It's been a while, since we opened our file, parted more than a mile, hard to forget your smile, your smooth style and cool personality. Greetings from the inner soul.

Distance kills, a wide space separates us, a gap, makes my heart grow fonder and less sharp, eyes roam around the field of play, the lap, realisation dawns upon my mouth, listen to this pumjabi rap, an emotion connecting us as one like sap, no web or wap but my love revealed in this piece of writing.

Perfection knows no barrier, and I know your magnificence is still intact, in good health, mind and body, keeping your head up, eyes straight, nose up, loveliness around you. Hope all is well with you.
Theoretically, as one singer said, I felt I had to share me with you, let you know something; make a confession, I don't know what to do else, but to keep on doing my confessions.
The date was fine, we made things a notch hotter than alkaline, you read your line, we crossed the line, and now am willing to make you mine. Bombshell.

Am on the verge, to make my intentions converge, let you
 know how this feeling makes me submerge, in an ocean am oblivious to, hard to emerge. Still I have a sensation, an urge, to let you know how am into you, before then, let you know me, some insight.
Ok, this is a shocker,and its the ultimate confession, the ultimate expresssion, not of my character, but of my attention, my compassion. That vivid day I bumped into you. What happened next? Our eyes locked,chemistry, cupid's shot hand in my heart.

On the day, I dared not to tell you so. Gotta admit I was an inch timid, that's as far as it goes. What really happened is that I was paralised nose down, to let you know nothing.
Now I lay down the truth. I am pretty sure you are the ship I need to sail in, I as the captain, us together on the cool waters of love. Sure enough, if your consent is given and the wind blows in our direction.
By
 

Robben Key-aler

KENYA,A COMICAL NATION part 1.

Part 1 of Kenya a comical nation

How I love being a Kenyan, by birth. Kenya is my land, my joy; my life and the dream of many African Citizens to visit my country, our country.Don’t greet me with derision and disbelief. Google it. Am not employing burlesque, its realism. Kenya’s capital city is Nairobi, and it the pearl of Kenya. Nairobi is Kenya and Kenya is Nairobi. People born from other parts of Kenya have a common goal, to come to Nairobi for greener pasture. Nairobi is the Canaan city for a Kenya citizen. If an event doesn’t happen in Nairobi, it probably never happened.

Anyway,

Kenya is one of the comical nations the world has ever had. It make me assume that the Mr. World as a being is always replacing his ribs as he sits somewhere observing intricacy of Kenyans with the wonder of a child. Kenya has an idea session on twitter mostly and partly facebook, though the latter is essentially for bragging purposes and the former ideas progress when an issue has gone viral. #KOT taps all creative ideas lurking in their minds and form either positive or negative critics on the trending matter in Kenya. Kenyans have a stimulus to creative Photoshop when an issue has gone viral on social media. Mateke Photoshop 
rendered me rib less. It was a well calculated trend. (Insert all other Photoshop that went viral in your mind)

If we lie to the government it's a felony, but if they lie to us its politics. The scope for major changes will be limited by political realities. The citizens of Kenya make deals with the political leaders during campaigns only to later complain to have the wrong leaders in the government. Really!!, I am always awed by this as we are the very people to vote them in. This is self con and ironical, leaving Mr. World aghast and astounded by our pleas. Let’s not be liberal but realistic here, how do you expect a leader who has spent a fortune to recover back? The only means is increasing their salaries. Remember the crave for power is business plan for most of them .Animus Dominandi.Stop this hullabaloo by being the change.Dont accept that Ksh200 or is it Ksh500, eitherway just vote leaders who are sufficient for our needs. Aaaah! We promise this all the time but come election time we annihilate the vowed promises we had four years in our hearts. We are later left with laden grief. Comical. Absurd. 

A nation united by terrorist divided by politics. Ludicrous. This was testified during the Westgate siege, and initially we were butchering each other online because of tyranny of number which led to tyranny of words. We take immense pride knowing where we came from but some Kenyans are tribal stereotypes and always whining, their lives are pathetic mix of dissatisfaction, fear, hate, unhappiness and have a don’t care attitude. I don’t say am an angel but my rebuttal is that I am not an active proselytizer of social: I can only convince society that it is necessary for it to rid itself of hate and its punishments and its mysticism.

Color discrimination is visible in Kenya. This is enormous and we tend to give attention to light skin as compared to dark skin. Some waiters and waitress can ascertain this. We perceive that white skin is manner from heaven and should be given priorities correlated to black skin. Am not being a hater but they are not complete human than us. Kindly Kenyans lets the relationship between us all be symmetric  rather than asymmetric as you tend to make it be. Serve each other as client and don’t be color biased. .Annihilate this vice completely. Remember Mr. World is watching .I vividly recall such an incident occurred to me in one of the mobile markets we have in Nairobi where they sell made in Kenya collections. I went to buy scandals since I love promoting my own and what I witnessed made me stand still and the action hit me in the solar plexus. I was being attended to by a vendor when he saw a white color he muted some words to his colleague and they rushed to attend to them, neglecting a willing buyer. Aberrant.

Many are a times we complain that our leaders are corrupted yet we as the public are the top spot. Preposterous I must say. I laugh when that six year old kid expect to be rewarded with few coins after sending her/him. Really? I don’t object that we give them some extrinsic reward but should come from one’s volition not a demand. That guard at the street of Nairobi who ushers in cars for parking expects some chai from you yet he is being paid to do that work. If you don’t give him he is left gossiping you how stingy you are but if you give him the chai he showers praises of you to his fellow guards and treats you better next time unlike the one who didn’t have the chai.This is a vice and it maims the productivity of a person if he is not given extrinsic reinforcement from the public. A woman ,a mother and a sister is proudly defending and acknowledging that her son can’t do homework without some payment. What a corrupted generation we are raising here. Very comical ahah!  

One thing Kenyans do rendering me rib less, is how they handle a boorish and unpalatable conversation  by pretending  to have an important call to attend to, Either nature or phone call. There is also a common slogan used by many Kenyans to end a conversation “otherwise”. This is frivolous and it’s to make the story tellers summarize his story in a limited time.

“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. These words sound familiar?AHUH!! Why not put them into practice then. We are so judgmental, critical especially to the public figures. We hate so much on them. The reason behind this is we tend to hate what we love and would like to be yet we can we know deep down that we can never be that person.Just be you and dont judge others as no one is flawless. People hasten to judge in order not to be judged themselves. Always know that the ability to observe without evaluating is the highest form of intelligence. It's okay to disagree with the thoughts or opinions expressed by other people. That doesn't give you the right to deny any sense they might make. Nor does it give you a right to accuse someone of poorly expressing their beliefs just because you don't like what they are saying.

Anyhow,anyway, Kenya is a friendly nation and a comical one. Najivunia kuwa mkenya.

 By

 Esther Wavinya

IT MUST BLEED by mutie oscar ghitto

I am traveling alongside a path with music thumping into my ears. I realize that i have been enslaved by music. for i cannot do without. Today, the road is very busy. it is solemn and angry.Its communication is harsh. I should have worn a more thick soled shoe. The dusty, rough road seems to have signed a pact with its overseer,the sun. Their combined torture has a way of forcing out sweat all over my skin. I feel as if am being roasted. What a plight the animals undergo. I have been absorbed in my thoughts. My immediate environment has subtly been overlooked at this juncture. I may have run into several of my friends, but without recognition, i trudge on. In the mind of my minds, the heart of my thoughts, i do not quite know where i am heading to. the cardinal aim is to wrestle this feeling. i want to heap blows on its head, so that it can leave me a free man. so that i can go back to my old self. I have put much effort into my thoughts, when a loosely lying stone reminds me that no matter how iam trying, iam still on earth. I realize that i have already taken an oath. A oath of alligence. The pen must bleed. And i shook my hands on it. It leaves me with no choice. I have to stick to the pact. I have to fulfill my end of the bargain for there is no turning back. My thoughts are still escalating, such that i feel a certain wanting to break the pact. 'Its no use to firmly hold the pen. The masses have become an ignorant lot. They have become drunk with folly. They will not listen to you.' it is my saddened soul speaking. The war is still on. The battle lines have been drawn. The swords have been unsheathed. It is my ego against my conscience. I am only a partial spectator. A sad spectator who is a victim of himself. I must relay the effects of the battle inside me. It has made me throw my hands around, and i have disturbed another soul. "What is wrong with you" i manage to hear her voice. Her soothing voice actually. Its sweet. It has temporarily halted the war. I shift gears to the real world. The wanting in my heart is almost crippling. I want to retort. To tell her that i am sorry. That it was an accident. But the most unusual thing happens. I can feel her hands on my shoulder. " Are you alright? sorry for being rude earlier on. " she must have realized that am disturbed. In one way or the other, she has gotten concerned. And that has saved the day. It has ended the war. The pact is on. The pen must bleed. The truth shall be told. Surely, angels have a way of taking care of things. For the road it took, saved a million lives.

the blackened thought...gayism(must read)Very interesting by posted to‎Oscar Shakespeare Ghitto

Cognitive Introspection(The child is the father of the man).Motivational

The child is the father of the man

The difficult child is the one who is unhappy. He is at war  with himself and at war with the world. He is rebellious and sees the negative side in every aspect of life.

No happy man has ever preached war, abused someone, and looked down upon so as to boost their ego. Beat his wife or cheat on her and neglect the responsibility of fatherhood. Moreover, no happy woman has ever abandoned her kids, nag her husband nor hate the in-laws, no matter how one treats them(mark you people treat you the way you present yourself to them). No happy human being has ever committed murder, cheat on their spouse. No happy Employer has ever frightened the employees in any way nor laden them with much work and little pay. No happy employee has ever refused to neither follow rules and regulations of a company nor discriminate his workmate due to position held.

All these crime, war, worries, fear, hatred can be reduced to unhappiness. We tend to be despondent and laden with grief if we don’t appreciate what we have at hand. This starts from young age. If you are unhappy that your friends have something and you don’t, you may end up a hostile and a hypocrite human being(Thats why you tell a friend you look smart but inside you are chocked and dont mean a word you said,only to end up gossiping them when they leave).  

The child is the father of the man.

Due to recalcitrant ways, one at a tender age develop the urge to steal his friend’s toys, bully his friend and so many other crimes. Their temper is fragile hence a buster in growth. They tend to make a living help for the other kids, little do they know they are rearing themselves to monsters.

The kid from the spoon fed lifestyle is also at risk like kids from other community as some of them aren’t taught how to share and also they are egoist .They look down upon a kid who doesn’t have and the latter tend boot-lick so as to play with the former toys. These kids are unhappy if you stop spoon feeding them with gift and luxuries and let them find their own ways to life.

Maybe you had passed via any of the above, change is inevitable and you are still the child to you. Your parents will forever be your parents no matter how old you are and will always want the best for you. Being a child to yourself, I believe you are still enthralling to the betterment of yourself. No one has ever wanted to be the bad him/her, but due to unhappiness we all tend to lose our ways, amid so much bitterness, it seems they do not lose the hope of achieving happiness one day without knowing how or in what way.

We all have moments of enjoyment and pleasure. Never confuse this with happiness. Partying, club hoping, road trips are just moments to enjoy but after they are over, do you go back to the unhappy state or what are the feelings that you experience. Analyze yourself in regards to this.

Be the best father who can mentor the son in him. Pursue dreams to ensue happiness. Happiness is never pursued but it can be earned, just like the little child who is months old doesn’t know anything but he is happy. Emulate that. Be contented with what you have so that you can get what you want. Give that inner child peace and acceptance. Do a revolutionary psychology in you. Study why you behave in certain manner with the aim of bettering you.Do a cognitive introspection

The best battle to conquer is the war of the mind and it’s the hardest to conquer, it need self evaluation and the passion to go ahead. When you conquer it, you start seeing possibility and opportunity in every difficulty and learn that Gods time is the best. You start doing something, without fear of what the masses will say. You live as you not as a person whom you have perceived is you to please. The whining, the hatred, the fear, the jealousy all disappear one by one. This is not a walk over or given on a silver plate. It need sacrifice, volition .This is when the child start being the father of the man in accepted way by the inner most. Its all your choice, to die happy or unhappy.To live happy or unhappy. Choices have consequences choose wisely.

 Compiled By

Esther Wavinya

Fascinating description of Tribeka on a friday night.(must read)Friday Night at Tribeka

Friday Night at Tribeka

It’s freezing outside, I pick my handbag and leave the office to meet my friends for a fun night out at a club in the city center.Tribeka is the place to be this particular night after a long day and tiresome week in the office. I walk lazily to the club engaging my mind in a string of questions; how many of these people on the streets of Nairobi have I met on this street before? How many will club tonight like me? How many will make love tonight?  How many will die tonight? Eish don’t give me that look, my mind is involved in realism here.

A moment later, still in the rhetoric question moods, am at the entrance of Tribeka Lounge. The lady bouncer motions me to open my handbag. I hate this as it is bothersome. It looks as if you as a terrorist suspect just landed from Somalia and ready to be a suicide bomber and your mind is already thinking of the virgins you will meet on your way to heaven.Anyhow,I open my handbag humbly smiling at the bouncer for sanity security purposes.

Tribeka fascinates me as it has three floors, ground floor is basically for the perceived matured guys who don’t like mixing with sweaty bodies and prefer a spaced surrounding. The lighting of the ground floor is a bit bright, with strobe lights and some white warm lighting with beautiful chandeliers. Making my way to the stairs, at the entrance a group of young men are seated on the couches, having mixed drink, you can call it cocktail as I had no time to peep directly because as a lady staring at men is a taboo and you know the feeling that comes when you are passing a group of men. Reticence. As I make my way through them, I feel their eyes on me as I pass. I always feel a little out of place at places like these, but I said I would meet my friends here.

Reaching first floor which is a little bit overcrowded, dancing sweaty bodies press and rub up against me., Dancing bodies tangled together, neon signs aligning the walls, a high ceiling with awesome lights hanging from it, On the other end a long lit up bar, and a balcony with booths to sit and chill. There is intermingled smell of smoke and sweat, the bartender run helter skelter  to ensure everybody is contented with their services.This floor is where insanity of all manner is experienced from the dancing,yea twerking they call it to guys behaving badly in public as they are sloshed.

 

Anyhow, I find my way to the VIP Lounge staircase which is situated at the far end corner not notable by everyone.The vip rooms which is on the second floor, has an alluring scene, there is  a private bar...with loads of corner couches and Small tables of mirror-glass.The floor is velvet carpeted; muted lighting of different colors.Here is where the so call celebs and guys who perceive to be public figures go to relax for their drink. The goodness with the VIP Lounge is that its never overcrowded except during a national holiday as the drinks are extra shillings compared to the floors below.

I love doing the VIP Lounge as am a very important person to me, Yes, I love me and want a less crowded place to relax and have some meditative moments in between the drinking,chatting,gossip and dancing.I don’t do ground floor as I perceive it as a path. How do you expect me to dance on a pathway? Added advantage is the drink I take is constant in all floors. Lucky me.

By now, my eyes are adjusting to the imminent darkness and the bright spots of neon signs on the wall.I saw one of my friend Milka already seated, and I headed in that direction, Gave her a light peck then I sunk gratefully into the depths of down filled cushions. The waiter came and acknowledged my drink,Delmonte(mango flavor) and a bottle of water. It is going to be a fun filled night.Don't scorn me, as you don’t have to be drunk to have fun in the club. I try chatting with Milka but the music can’t allow us to engage in a decent conversation so a few gossips here there and chit chat come in handy. Yes I call it gossip as we gawk at the crowd and if  we notice women dressed funny or a young man with a big belly as if he is due in few months, we exchange glances and laugh sarcastically. Telepathy at work

Sipping my glass of mango juice, I noticed a single guy at the bar, hunched over, to my understanding most people who drink alone do it at home or in a local pub not a club. I proceeded to watch him with small interest behind half closed lids over the rim of my glass. I could see the unhappy lines on his face etched deeply, I whispered to Milka about him. I engaged myself in cognitive speculating why he is in such a state? Is he enjoying himself? Wallowing? Grieving? Has he been dumped today? Is he waiting for a date that probably won’t turn up? Or is he the kind that comes to pick women at the clubs?

I have much to enjoy other than doing a mental interrogation of someone who appears out of place in a feel good Friday.I pushed my drink away, got up, and started dancing. I felt sweaty, but it feels so good. Like I am releasing the days stress. My body moves to the rhythm of the music. My friend says I dance like a gorilla on fire in an ant hill, but I don't care, it makes me happy.

By
Esther Wavinya