JustSayIt

Imagine waking up on a filthy, uneven floor -  light coming solely through the flimsy wooden wall. Imagine trudging through the mud barefoot -  mud merged with remnants of God knows who. Imagine breathing in thick layers of sooty dust - the colors sullen, lifeless and dull. Imagine smelling the scent of faeces and decay,  of diseases and of death every single day. Imagine your belly gurgling with hunger and distraught,  sniffing glue - the only way to delude. Imagine walking on rickety bridges - a step amiss and drown you will in these murky watery ditches.  Imagine wearing the same old rags - all tattered and torn,  being beaten and battered, no rights of which to call your own.  Imagine having silly daydreams of going to school but there's not a penny to spare - not even for a worn-out book. But alas, imagine no more for such children exist, with ghosts clouding their starry dreams And death hanging heavy upon their tiny, little feet. .

I've realised I've been sucked up in a whirlpool. I've been sucked up in routines and I’m drowning – but not yet, not quite. I've been slacking a little (so much for making the most of each day - what a joke) my brain doesn't feel fresh anymore. It feels as if it's rotting; decomposing. Please brain please stop feeling dull... Also please stop feeling emotionally drained. I work with children. Despite the ups and downs I absolutely love them. I absolutely love the vibes children send off – their innocence and their curiosity, their merry laughter and their playfulness. I feel that I can forget all of my woes, and that somehow I’m a child again. In all honesty, I still consider myself a child at times and I  don't want to ever grow up. I want to be the female version of Peter Pan. Still looking for my own Neverland however. Help? Enough rambling. But yes, I need to somehow sort out my life, my mind, my room and my files (not the fli

I have lived a thousand lives; travelled to every corner of the world; spoken all the languages while locked in the Tower of Babel; been a fairy, dancer, singer, soldier - you name it … all through the power of music. Music is not solely a universal language –  eliciting emotions of which we never knew, images of faraway places, and ideas remembered but promptly forgotten. It is also the only medium which makes sense when words fail; the one medium who understands when no one else does; the one who keeps connecting people through time, space and hue. It is in its true sense, the very essence of the transcendent. We only have to listen. Listen to a song (ideally classical music) on a loop. Sleep and wake up to the same piece of music and don't get out of bed until you get its ‘feel’ - be it an emotion, an image, a thought process or a story. Let your imagination run rampant and unleash the playground which is thus born exploding inside the crevices of your mind. I believe

Have you ever watched the movie ‘Black’? You should. This biopic revolves around a girl, Helen Keller, who was blind, and deaf. She wasn't even taught any basic etiquette like eating with a fork because it was assumed that it would be in vain and thus, was rendered animalistic. However, a teacher comes to her life and gives her a hell of a time. Why? Because he believed that she has potential. Her world turned upside down when the teacher helped her to make the first association with the word ‘water’ to its sensation. Her world became bright and colourful, and no longer shrouded in darkness and meaningless. She learnt all that she needed to know, and expressed herself in HER way but her message came across clearly. She also received a degree at a university (after failing for a number of years but never giving up). I’m sure her parents may have perceived this transformation a miracle. But it’s not. You know why? Because her potential always existed – it was simply never questi

No, not even the riches of the world will ever bestow you with true freedom. Personally I feel that I am not free – at all. I mean I felt the urge to justify myself after reading some of what I've written so far because well, I think I may have sounded like a pretentious ass, bigoted and narcissistic and I don’t like it. I’m not sure if I really am that kind of person and more importantly, how wise it is that I am sharing all of this to strangers. But to me you are not only strangers but imaginary friends - heroes and heroines, animals and magical creatures as well as villains -  who only exist while I'm writing. Thing is, I feel compelled to express myself despite my paranoia. Truth be told, I should not be feeling this way. I should not be feeling like a caged bird, whose wings have been clipped off and who is ignorant to whether or not it is on its own since it’s surrounded by a heavy, ominous darkness. Everything is dark and bleak but for its voice which breaks

I want to be surrounded by nature till eternity and a day beyond. Nature is a magical place I can retreat to. It’s quiet and beckons for silence. It asks only to be appreciated. It’s calming. It's comforting. I love being near the sea in the dead of the night, a gentle breeze to lift my spirit up and cliffs to make me feel safe and sheltered with a backdrop of silent lightning – for some dramatic effect. I love the sheer silence of it all. I love looking at the young, old moon – God’s eye and the gazillion freckled stars shining like teardrops on a faceless face. I love looking at its magestic stillness. A masterpiece of moving art. Mere perfection. In the midst of nature is the only time I feel that time ceases to exist. It is unnecessary. Time in nature is finite and infinite. It has been there long enough and it will be there long enough - more so than me. I only exist for a couple of milliseconds in comparison to nature’s seemingly infinite life. To me

I’ve always been very competitive; I’ve always been very competitive with myself. I remember as a kid, the last thing I used to tell myself before I went to sleep was that today I know more than yesterday; tomorrow I will know more than today. It’s an obsession. Not only with regards to how much knowledge I have attained but also to other aspects pertaining to my life. Sometimes I look at the mirror and wonder. If I had chosen a different path in life what would the reflection show? Would I look slimmer, fatter, prettier, or more repulsive? Would I be smarter, stupider, kinder or more selfish? Would I have more friends, less friends. Would I have made different friends? What kind of friends? Would I have more memories or more regrets? There’s a thing called 'the butterfly effect' – there's also a movie illustrating this concept. It’s about how a small thing – a flutter of the butterfly’s wing(s) can make a whole impact to the entire worl

I hate routines.. I hate them with such passion. I keep telling myself to get into habits – any. But I won’t. I hate it. Unless I am emotionally involved in something I’m not going to do it. I hate it. I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll fall into a routine again as I keep doing for years and years on end. I do terribly. I’m trying to be organised for the first time in my life. It feels great! I’ve never been organised! I felt a mess and it showed. I’m panicking. I’m panicking that I will get into a routine and won’t be able to get out of it; that I will be oblivious to what is going on around me and it scares the hell out of me. I’m worried. I’m worried that I’ll do my very best but it still won’t be enough. I keep wondering what different people in my position would do differently. What is good or bad. Or rather I should think in the ‘grey’ area – whatever that means. What ideas would they have different than me. Why won’t these ideas occur to me! Why

Today I’m happy. Ecstatic. Or as they used to say, ‘over the moon’. And rightly so. Why? Because I’ve finally figured out my ideal career and I can’t believe I hadn’t thought about it any soon. It’s the kind of career of which I don’t have to worry about any flaw. I can even lose weight. I will never again have to worry about my hair, or  blemished skin, my thighs, the heat, or wearing anything on my feet. I don’t have to worry about being too this or being too that or that I’m growing too this and growing too that. All I have to do is - Swim. Yes, you've guessed correctly. I want to become a mermaid. And not just any Ariel! I want to swim to the depths of the ocean, with sea horses, colourful fish and tame sharks. Swim to the sunrise and sunset with a school of merry dolphins beneath a starry sky. Feel the rain splashing my already soaked hair and dye it too. Have a beautiful sea green tail and wear sea shells in my hair. Scare people away with my long, sharp nails and

Today I’m going to write about another memory. It’s not a good memory. It’s the kind of memory which leaves you wondering what kind of world we live in. That day I collapsed to my bed as soon as I arrived home. I was exhausted beyond measure, depressed, angry and helpless. I had to convince a girl not to abort a child. Usually my stance towards abortion is neutral and I don’t feel a need to voice my opinion because really and truly it’s none of my business. This case was different. I was staring at an 18-year-old girl with a two-year-old baby. She could not even look me in the eye, her pain was something you can feel from miles away, and the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness was unbearable. She knew no English (a friend/nurse translated everything). She was 5 months pregnant. Now if you’re 5 months pregnant and want to abort a child, you’re placed at a high risk of never seeing the light of day again - especially in this country. Also she 'wants' to marry a man

So today I woke up at 3 in the morning and had to grab my phone to write some of my ideas. Mind you, half I could barely understand, the other half - I suppose we'll soon find out. Lately I’m going through a crisis – I’m feeling a certain urgency. I can feel time ticking and it doesn’t feel good. It feels that life is too short and well, you never know. I suppose this urgency has been coming all the way from Africa. I met a lot of people and we knew we were never going to be around each other for a long time. Our time together was short. So we focused on our similarities rather than our differences and tried to make the most of it. In reality, it’s not much different from our daily life. You never know what tomorrow will bring. I suppose the reason why I’ve started this blog is that I’m seeing the ‘grand scheme of life’ in a sense. Maybe I will say ridiculous stuff or just bore my readers to death (which is fine ;) ) but at least I’m expressing myself and being at peace w

Let's talk about recipes. No, I’m not talking about actual food recipes, so if you were thinking of chocolate cake recipes you’re in the wrong place (but it does look scrumptious right?).  I’m talking about the kind of recipes which create ideas. You know, like I’m still in awe with people who came up with the invention of the wardrobe, chair, rubber band, language... I can’t imagine living without them but it’s a thing we all take for granted. Then there are the people who have never met each other but come up with similar ideas like books (content), hairdressing, and yeah, food recipes... I remember overhearing the conversation of someone who was doing some research of a local composer whose music sounded similar to a foreign composer (both names have escaped my memory) and composed them within the same decade or so. Thing is they never met and allegedly, they never heard each other’s music and it got me thinking. It could be that the ingredients are always a

Today I’m writing about some of my greatest fears I used to have as a child which haunted me. It’s about what reality was to me. I’m writing because reality is a question to most – if not everyone.  Unfortunately it is something we will probably never have a real answer to and that sometimes it is best to just live life and stop asking questions. I remember one day asking someone if I was still dreaming (as far as I recall, I was awake) and I was not answered but given a very strange look. I realised it’s not the kind of topic I should talk about.  I held various theories of how we exi st but I had no idea which was true. First and foremost, do I exist or is this simply a dream? If this is a dream what is reality? Is reality a world of monsters and cannibals (hence one of the reasons why I'm a vegetarian)? Or, does everyone know what the ‘truth’ is but me and one day someone will tell me that this world is a joke and I’m on candid camera. Yet what is reality away

Today I’m not feeling inspired. I’m still going to write something however. How shall I start? I’m eating junk food - I’m eating too much. I put it away. Less temptations. No, that’s not a good start. I'm beginning to get sick of my own writing and I should read fiction again. Let me start again. I cannot force myself to write.  Ok let me write what's going on my mind at the moment. I am scared that now I am baring my soul to strangers and that I will regret it. I am scared that in a few months, weeks, days or possibly hours I will read the blogs and go red in the face. Including this sentence. It’s not a comfortable feeling. But I hate hiding behind a mask. It makes me itch all over. I rub my nose. It really makes me itch a nd the word itch makes me itch even more. Oh no, now I’m really itching all over. There is also some liberating feeling after expressing some thoughts however. It’s like a layer of dust has been wiped off of me. There

I think mirrors are a curse and a blessing, each existing at the same time yet separately.  Although you own your face, you never see it. The thing is that it is one of the first aspects people notice and form their impressions upon (some, illogically). In truth, you have never really seen your face - save from the reflection of a mirror. Mirrors show you your face but it doesn’t always feel like your face. Sometimes the face looks strange; as if the face staring back at you is a complete stranger. Personally, I keep forgetting how my face looks like. I can remember other people’s faces but never my own so I have to keep looking at mirrors to remember. Lately I’ve also got in the habit for looking for blemishes – amongst them, wrinkles and wondering how I will look like in a few years time. Joy. In Kenya there were days I never looked at a mirror because well, there weren’t any. It felt unnatural and as if I were missing out from something. My face had become completely forgotte