Tuesday 8 October 2013

WOMEN MAKING IT IN KENYA



Been a while since I blogged. A lot has been going on. I thought clearing campus was my gateway to freedom, success and happiness but no one told me I would spend sleepless nights trying to find myself a financial position in a firm in Nairobi. My life was very well planned out in theory…I would come to campus, score A’s in all my exams. I thought that after school I would directly secure a job as a financial consultant. I didn’t think about the interim. I am stuck in a grey area. I don’t know if I was building castles in the air all this time. Should I continue to dream more? I believe I am made for bigger and better.
Women in this country are making huge strides. Just recently Total Kenya appointed a woman C.E.O. This is a huge step given that women are not represented in the boards of many companies listed in the Nairobi Stock Exchange. We are in an age where the constitution favours women and opts for one third representation in these top positions in both the political and corporate arena. This is a major step that Kenyans are taking.
Women are getting emancipated and people are learning to let go of the notion that a woman’s place is in the kitchen. A woman can do any job that a man can do probably even better. Just recently I spoke with Wangui who is a conductor of the P.S.V’s (public Service Vehicles) along the Thika Superhighway. I admired her enthusiasm and determination as she went about shouting to the passengers to board the P.S.V.
She said, “At first it was challenging since this is a job reserved for the men since they are hardy and they can easily usher people into the vehicle by shouting. Later when I got the hang of it, people accepted and even commended me for my guts. I love my job since it brings food to the table. Women are tough in this day and age”.
Here we see a woman who has ignored all the stereotype and spiteful comments and moved out of her comfort zone. So this is an industry infested by male sharks, so what? I will go out there, pioneer a path for those women who are second guessing themselves and wondering if they are good enough. Take a good look around you. Women are no longer confined in the proverbial ‘kitchen walls’. They are too stifling. They are too commonplace. We only have one life to live and if we let people define how we should live it we did not LIVE.
There is so much in this world that a woman can do and still take care of her kids and family. Women miss out on lobbying for top positions because most of these positions are discussed over bars and golf courses. A woman with a family cannot be seen attending these events since she has to make dinner, clean up and take care of her children. Women miss out on these positions and only have their papers (qualifications) and determination to help them climb the corporate ladder.
Recently, we had an argument with some of my friends that if a woman and a man who are equally qualified walk into an interview room the woman will get the job( especially if she is in a short skirt). Well, while that might be partly true I beg to differ .It is not always that a woman will bag a certain job simply because she is a woman. That is a debate for another day.
I am still trying to find my niche and purpose in these streets. We all have that little voice in our head that tells us that we can do great things. If only we could let go of fear and limitations that the world has set for us. The hardest time in life is when you have nothing but dreams. Your hands are empty. The hardest thing is to attempt to live the dreams when the voices in your head battle with the will to live and burgeon .It is harder when you are a woman. It is harder when you don’t know where to start or when you have no skill, networks or resources.
Think about the prisoner who is digging himself out of the prison walls. Digging through stone walls day by day. It all started with a thought, a dream, and a step. Eventually it all works out and the sooner you start, the sooner you LIVE YOUR DREAM.

OBLIVION



Ever asked yourself this question, “what was I meant to be?” we have all wrestled with the fact that we might not be in the fields we are supposed to be. Ever felt trapped in time and space like you should be somewhere else in a different place living a different life? We have all watched a movie, seen a picture or read a book and we’ve said these word , “this is me. This is where I want to be”. We have envied other peoples situations, opportunities and experiences and we have thought that we could do more with the situation. If I had his money I would open a bar here. If I had her networks I would be so far right now. If I had his talent I would be the talk of this city. If I had her beauty I would do this, I would do that.
We always want to be at any place but not here. We want a little more money, a little more then we think that we would be HAPPY. Happiness is not measured by the material possessions since they can all be taken away. Happiness is determined by contentment and experiences shared with friends and family. Happiness might be brought by well earned success and a sense of accomplishment but it doesn’t end there, I believe that one is truly happy when one surrounds themselves with the right people. Its brought by accepting our situations and by making the best of it.
There so much you can do to make your situation better. So many times we are stuck in a rut, In a situation so grim that all hope is lost and there’s no sign of redemption but there’s always something to do. These are just trenches of life.
In such times its best to take a little time off. Relax a bit. Restrategise.





image from istockiming

Friday 26 April 2013

CHECKING OUT GUY IN TABLE 12

He is any ordinary guy in a coffee shop. He is the kind who takes the table adjacent to the window. As he sips his coffee in super slow mo he looks like he has no care in the world but there is a difference between appearance and reality.He looks like he has everything under control,he has his act together. He has a small journal and a calculator.You can be sure that he wont stain the table with coffee rings because he is the type to put the porcelain cup back on the place mat.
He looks like an artist of some sort,like someone who would rather take the bus upcountry to visit his folks, than a fancy ride from a friend.He is proud of his heritage,he appreciates his African roots,he spots a neat Afro ,he has dark skin and strong arms that almost burst out of his shirt,filled with veins that tell stories of struggle and triumph...his hair gleams and glistens as the suns light illuminate the space around table 10 and table 12.He stares vacantly into space like he is thinking about nothing in particular but he doesn't come across as idle.he looks like he is supposed to be here at this particular cafe,at this particular time,on table twelve,sipping a cappuccino with two teaspoons of sugar...
He takes off his Ankara bow tie and I'm watching him intently from the counter as i dry some silverware and glassware.He loosens the top button of his crisp white shirt which is folded artfully on the arms.he sips his coffee which by now should be either cold or finished. He takes off a fountain pen from his Harris Tweed coat which he had hanged on the chair facing him,as if to say he didn't need any company.Those oleo who insist on sharing tables with you when there are obviously other tables in the cafe.he doesn't want to be distracted.
Who still owns a fountain pen at this day and age?who still inks pens and scribbles things,punching calculators...he should be typing off a mini laptop .
I straighten my hair and apron and go over to fill his cup since he looks like he needs more caffeine in his system.
He looks engrossed and buried in what he is doing... I cant help but peep at his book and i see a lot of numbers and tables,tables that remind me of balance sheets,profit and loss ,income statements and pro forma jargon that the years have erased off my memory.he closes the book when he notices I'm prying,he looks at me and smiles as i try pretend that i was looking somewhere else. He has these piercing eyes that make me immobile for a second or two.He is still smiling,revealing a perfect set of white teeth.

I almost smile back,but the way he reverts back to his business and his face is now serious and looking down to his calculator and whatever else.
I almost knocked him on the head,i almost said "dude! I was totally checking u out...i even sugared your coffee.is it because I'm just a waitress in this artsy coffee shop?is it because you are some business mogul or something!!" I shook my head,sighed and went to the couple in table 7 to take their order.(20/12/2012)

FADING INTO THE BLACKNESS

(Notes) on Tuesday, April 12, 2011 at 7:28pm

Handbag bursting out,full of clutter and unnecessary things,each with a long story behind it,she presses the cigarette between her lips,lips blotted in gloss looking all dolled up,she tries to walk in her four inch heels which didn't bother her in the morning,its been a long day,she fervently n furiously digs in her bag to look for a lighter,all she needs is a little filtered tobacco smoke in her lungs to her soul to sort of cloud away and obscure the pain ,she is caught up in the din,as her world spins,faster and faster,she feels like pouring all those things on the street floor,by now the tears don't hesitate to fall,black tears washing from the mascara that once adorned her eyes.she finds it and the cigarette comes alive,white wisps of smoke rise above her as she rests her back on a pole,she watches people move up and down,she smiles painfully at the cruel world...
As her cigarette dies,a lot races through her mind,by God she wants to slash him a thousand times,she wants to see him bleed,she feels betrayed,lacerated disenchanted and back stabbed,she drops the remains of the cigarette and kills the fire with her shoe,she watches as people pass,with smiles on their faces,and feels so hollow and empty since she cant own one..by now the city lights come alive and the daytime restaurants turn into new age clubs and pubs,suits and leather bags are abandoned for more fancy,flashy and skimpy dress-code.,all souped up rides head for the hills where the who's who congregate..her skirt is short enough,her heels r long enough,she lets her hair down time to hit the club..

PAIN

(Notes) on Friday, November 5, 2010 at 11:24pm
Pain is a lie on your face,its the bitter aftertaste,in your mouth and grin on your face,pain is u being out of phase,and slow paced to the things and people that mean much to you,pain is what you chose to put me thru,pain is a lie sugarcoated to look like its true,pain is u trying to complicate,you lacerate me,you stab me repeatedly,you scream at me incessantly,pain is what is in the soul,as we roam,in search of angels,liberation,with frustrated faces we dig in the sand,and stare at the sun,pain incrypted,in the eyes of a soul,deserted,.pain is not a good thing..especialy if its bigger than u...tears do fall,icy and bitter...

THE BOY WITH SHAGGY HAIR 1 Oct 25 2010

The boy with shaggy hair.

 (Notes) on Monday, October 25, 2010 at 9:49pm
Just a boy i think i know,who walks with confidence and airs ,with shaggy unkempt hair,that blinks with the sun,hair black like coal,with ink on his neck,a tattoo that he hides behind his dirty collar,just a boy,with a halo on his head,with sparkly eyes under bushy eyebrows,with a husky voice and comportment and poise,a shirt hugs his frame,and the veins on his hand are a work of art,we continue to form words,as he fiddles with his beard,a game of scrabble,with a king,this boy,bittersweet ,mysterious,he plays with dexterity,speaks with clarity,just a boy,hard to figure out,helps me wear my coat,as the breeze blows and night falls,we carry the days memories,the bits and pieces,and we walk in the horizon,kicking stones,long shadows behind us,hand in hand,the boy with kinky,shaggy hair..

MYSTERY Oct 10 2010

Is it coincidence that your ex and your current were mates,a long time ago and just happened to meet,or all the people you fall for and you are smitten,are married, engaged or taken,or your greatest enemy has the cure to your disease,the feet you swore never to kiss,is it by chance that you bite the hand that feeds you,and you shun away those who care for you,you fall in love with the son to your father's arch enemy,yeah love knows no boundaries,you collapse right before the finish line,and you are in prison doing time,for a mistaken identity,or a crime u didnt commit.,and how everything you say counts bigtime,and comes to bite u in the a$* later in your lifetime,and the tears and hurt you cause,whatever the intent and purpose,you will bleed in the same vein,the same tears and pain.