My week has been a mixed bag.

The awesome part was Ann's visit.
You truly don't know how much you miss someone till they are gone.
I've had a blast in the one week she's been here. The visit to  Kigali was
 particularly special

In his second attempt, my cousin Kabiru ended his life on Sunday and was
buried yesterday.
George my colleague fell sick ,alone in his house .The hours it took for someone to get to
his house and confirm he was alive were nerve-wrecking .
The chemo and radiotherapy effects on Mum are taking a toll.
On a work trip, the truck broke down and had a 9hour wait before we could proceed.

As I sit here on my  couch taking stock of the past 7 days, I've realised I struggle
with accepting things as they are. Especially when I make mistakes.
I have platinum membership to the What If and Should Have club and it's exhausting.
Any ideas on how I can reduce this?It's doing my head in, I'm perennially swinging  between a
utopic past where I m…

So much happiness

3 friends in the last one week have commented that I'm glowing, and
on it's heels who is he jokes.
I have no clue what's causing it; will gladly take it though;-)
Then I came across this poem that made my heart sing 
So Much Happiness by It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.
But happiness floats.
It doesn’t need you to hold it down.
It doesn’t need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which ne…


I'm weathering the grief.

At time it's a wave. A smell, picture, memory sets off the
ripple. The build up is slow and it ebbs in and out .
The constancy makes it easy to bear.

The lighting strikes out of nowhere.
I can be at work, typing an email and suddenly, I'm
in tears, hands shaking, wailing  and crumbling on the inside.
The wounds is pierced afresh , the pain sharp and deep.
It helps that I have my own office where I can sit this out

Fog is the commonest and it carries me effortlessly .
I'm a battery that need charging all the time.
Eating, getting up, interacting with others takes 10x more energy than usual.
The pain is a dull constant ache humming in the background.

The cloud is the hardest to bear. It drizzles a steady stream of pain. Everywhere, including
my hair hurts.
The umbrella is sleep

May your soul keep resting in peace Master Matindi  wa Ng'ang'a  .
You are missed


For years, I wouldn't cross the Kenyan border.
Nowadays I regularly travel across Kenya, Uganda and Rwanda.
So regularly, I've stopped appreciating  the blessing and privilege it
is to be able to cross these borders with ease.
This joins  a long list of things I take for granted :
- Waking up
- Mum
- Health
- Being literate
- Internet
- Books
- Earth
- Life
- Shelter
- Employment
- Freedom
- Family
- Friendship
- Water
- Air
- My body
- Peaceful region
- Language
- Moon
- Medicine
- Plants
- Universe
- Gadgets
- Laughter
- Sleep
- Jokes
- Ideas
- People (Thinks of I am Legend)
- Faith
- Etc etc
 I'm hoping to experience this more often; the reckoningof how rich
and wonderful my life is, even in the midst of a cyclone.

Steel Utensils

Last year, I struggled to get images of a steel cup and decided to take photos of Mum's  utensils when I went home

Mum, her friends and most of her age mates use this.
Those who prefer ceramic cups have to say it as this is the default.
DO NOT serve Mum and/or guests using a chipped cup.

This beseni(basin) is older than me.
Mum was gifted by her cousins in 1979 when she got married.
The reason it's still intact? only used during special functions.

RIP Matindi

A post I read keeps circling in my mind
'A child who has lost a parent is called an orphan
A wife who has lost a husband is a widow
A husband who has lost a wife is widower
There's no word for a parent who has lost a child because
it's indescribable'

My son, George Matindi Ng'ang'a was electrocuted to death on 25th May 2019.
The darkest day of my life so far.
He didn't come from my womb and was thrust in my care when he was 1.5years old.
Since then, he has been my child in all the ways that count.
As the Swahili saying goes 'Kazi si kuzaa, kazi ni kulea (the work isn't in giving birth, it's
in rearing up the child)
And now I'll never hear him calling me Mum again.

This pain, this pain hits different.
It paralyses and leaks from every pore.
The slightest touch, whiff sets it off
It clings to my body, firmly wrapped on my neck making it hard to breathe
And I've learnt the well of tears never runs dry
Some days I smile when I s…


I always thought coaching and counseling were synonymous.
Met  coaches Laimani of Alabastron back in 2010 and  Rosie Lore in 2014
and these interactions were therapeutic for me so I didn't quite make the distinction.
Enter Anne Prabhu of Leadership That Works.
Oh my goodness *****Didn't know I needed this in my life.
It's eye opening ( hums I can see clearly now ) Where is a gif when you need one???
For me, this is one of the best investments in my professional life.
Attempting to describe it is like telling  a 1st time mother about labour pains;words are woefully
If you can, try it for yourself. And let me know how it goes.
It's a big industry and there's all sorts of coaches now, whatever you need.
Thinking of engaging a dating coach next.