Waaringa

In the past 1 year , I've put on 10kgs. I know it , as does those around me. The culprit is me and my love of food. I was home, 2 weeks ago, and my weight became the topic of my entire visit. It was annoying. This is what I'd have loved to say to those who pointed this out Dear So and So, You've obviously known me for some time, now that you can remember when I weighed much less than I do now. Guess who was the 1st person to notice the weight gain?Me. You're not telling me something I already don't know . In fact, I would appreciate if you kept this to yourself. See, I'm surrounded by messages of what a failure I am for  being unable to control my appetite,  what my weight should be , how to can get there and how unattractive I am until then. Your well intended comment is one more nail on that coffin. For me and others, please stop. My weight is obviously none of your business, and you don't know what my weight gain/loss journey is like. If

My birthday is in 2 days. I'm in awe of how far I've come and is  counting my blessings . I'm grateful for life , this existence that I was thrust into and have had a lot of help navigating. My family are my everyday heros and heroines, I owe them a debt I can never repay. The icing on that cake is motherhood, the scariest thing I've done so far, still learning, still stumbling , still making it up as I go along. My friends, from Fifi, my oldest friend to Charlotte, who I met 4 weeks ago. They have shaped my world in many ways, seen and unseen. Know I'll never cross paths again with most of them. I'm grateful for the times we had. My colleagues, the men and women I was forced to interact with in pursuit of money. We shared many laughs and tears , built, tore  each other ,lent helping and destroying hands. The source of many life's lessons. The others. Who don't and didn't fit neatly into my boxes. Who shared their time, resources,

Hallo, my name is Waaringa and I'm addicted to reading. I'm the type, on a device, with 10+ tabs open. Even when death was knocking on my door through malaria, I read when I could. Hope heaven has books. My favourite reads for 2017; so far 1) Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi 2) The Prophet  - Khalil Gibran 3) Born a Crime  - Trevor Noah 4) Year of Yes  - Shonda Rhimes

In my network marketing days, the acronym for fear was Fear Evidence Appearing Real. I've read numerous books, articles, watched tens of clips and videos on how to overcome fear and for a minute, I deluded myself  had slayed that dragon. Subconscious wasn't going to let me get away with that.She must have been building her case diligently  behind the scenes and a on a lazy Sunday, while enjoying  doing nothing on my couch , with all my defences down, she shoved  Truth in front of me. As usual, a fight broke out.Truth,Reasoning and Emotions argued for days, hurting Sleep and resurrecting  Sweet Tooth. Emotions is as stubborn.Her concession for defeat was acknowledgement that she had  overcome some fears. Gloatingly rubbing her hands at the hard won victory , Reason  gave a power point presentation that Truth helped her put together; -Fear of drowning -Fear of causing a car accident -Fear of not finding love -Fear of(the prospect) settling -Fear of rocking the boat

Actually, one of those weeks. When I have a lot to  smile about and all I want to do is cry The good, bad and ugly occur simultaneously What to do? A dose of pleasure mixed with a portion of frustration topped off with a shot of hope, garnished with fear It is not well I am well My spirit is working overtime to fight this storm The waves of negativity pounding my boat relentlessly Rays of sunshine shoving their way in 'Lean into the discomfort' someone says I don't know how

Kami will be turning 12 next month. Over the years,I've met men  I've liked and would have enjoyed exploring the attraction but they shut down when they find out I have a child. A part of me gets it, opinions abound about single mothers, and it takes a lot (I guess)of guts to rise above all that negativity and parent another man's child. Another part gets frustrated each time I see the locks and nuts get bolted. It happened again this weekend and it still irks me. Didn't mention her on the 1st date (a long time ago I gave myself permission to diverge/withhold any personal information as I see fit) and it slipped out soon after. And because this ain't my first rodeo, I knew that was it.Still I hoped. Now I don't know what to do with this bundle of negative feelings I'm stuck with. I feel regret, annoyance, frustration. To myself, why do I even bother?when will I learn to manage my expectations, scrap them altogether even. To him, just wish he'

I've just taken my daughter back to school here in Jinja and one of her teacher's remarked how Kenyans will kill each other over the election results in October , like they did in 2007. My knee jerk reaction was anger , then pride kicked in and I told him it won't happen. Of course I'm proud to be Kenyan.At least half the time. Then I log onto Facebook and Twitter and the pride curdles into shame and anger. I'm angry that tribe is our chief identity. We share multiple identities:children, parents, siblings, employees, employers, partners, friends, professionals, religious and spiritual affiliations, talents, hobbies etc. Yet, the one identity we had no choice in, is the one we cling to ,our Kryptonite. Election season is a great time to know what others think of their fellow Kenyans. There are many pleasant surprises and numerous shocks-the hatred and vitriol is nauseating. Fake news adds to the burden of separating the wheat from the chaff. There ar

And now these three remain:faith, hope and love.But the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:13 I can't remember when I memorised this Bible verse.Many moons later, it still strikes a chord. In my life, the most fragile of the 3 is hope. Battling between positive thinking-ness, optimisim and realism, hope is usually my first casualty. Today, I'm willing to fight for my hope. That my beloved Kenya will be peaceful after today's elections .There are and will likely  be many reasons to justify violence. I choose to believe that we will muffle the voices of those whose interests enable them to see human lives as collateral damage. I choose to see that we're birthing a new frontier , that my beloved motherland is on an upward and onward trajectory. I choose hope.

The identities that bring me a lot of joy also cause me a lot of pain. Being a woman,mother, daughter, sister,friend,Christian, Kenyan. This morning, it hurts to be Kenyan. The general election is in a week's time and m ore blood is being shed. Last weekend  it was Chris Msando's , in March it was my friend Dan Omollo . There's probably others that didn't make the news. It's heartbreaking, that life is seen as collateral damage in the pursuit of  political ambitions. The conspiracy theorists are having a field day, further fueling the fires and fears of violence. A facebook post by my friend George resonated strongly with me and it's my take on the matter. From recent happenings. There are two people I want to congratulate, our president Uhuru Kenyatta and our former prime minister Raila Odinga. The two of you have done what so many terror attacks tried to do but failed to. You have made Kenyans AFRAID, afraid of the future, afraid of their neighbours, af

The HR officer at work has been in a funk for the last two weeks. Even her feet betrayed her mood. I learnt  it's because she saw the contract of the new guy and he's being paid double what she gets. I found out last night what my boss earns and my judgement of her evaporated. Now I'm in a dilemma about this. I am an advocate of publicizing salaries, in light of the wage gaps between men and women, where women are paid less than men for the same work. My knee jerk  reaction to learning what my boss earns was mild outrage and a desire to storm into his office demanding a pay rise. This will most likely be the reaction of millions of employees round the globe. I'm not sure how this can be managed. Still, I firmly believe colleagues should be aware of what the pay ranges are , this is a critical step in ensuring women don't keep getting the short end of the salary stick.

2 Saturdays ago, I met a guy at a bar in Ruaka. Within an hour of spotting him, we had exchanged numbers and  were flirting via text. The chemistry between us was sizzling, and when he came to sit next to me, my friends,  noting how smitten I was, excused themselves and went downstairs to play pool. Those 2 hrs flew. It was exhilarating. At some point he said 'I  hope you're not like other women' A few years ago, I'd have vehemently agreed to  this. I'd like to think I'm now wiser and my answer was 'I'm like other women in many ways and different in other ways' In recent years,I've started to pay keen interest to similarity.Before that, I used to thrive on difference. Now, I realise, as a  woman, African, employee, daughter, Kenyan, whichever identity I choose, there are many traits I have in common with those I share that  identity with. This has helped me deconstruct my own importance.The best part, of doing it myself,  is being a

Thanks to a friend on twitter, I discovered Alain De Botton roughly 2 years ago. He's one of my favourite philosophers and today I came across this gem on love . My aha moment;be generous in your interpretation of the behaviour of another person.

I spent 5hrs  on Saturday, 20th May 2017,trying to register my Airtel sim card at the Jinja office. The 1st hurdle was figuring out which queue to go to,since I'm not a Ugandan. There was a different process for foreigners,  which was never advertised. In the foreigners queue, my application was marked 14&figured, at most it would take 2hrs. Wishful thinking The reason,  Asian &White privilege.  My dears, it's one thing to know it exist ,  it's another to watch it unfold.  1st, the Whites did NOT queue, they went straight to the back office &got registered there.Some Asians also did this.  Some of the Asians would go behind the counter and their applications fast tracked. Others in front of me, in the queue, would receive applications from their counterparts behind &register on their behalf. Forget that the instructions were you had to present your documents yourself to verify identity. The icing on the cake was when one of the management guys cam

I wrote this ↧ on 8th July 2016 and saved it in drafts.It was titled 'It's Time' I came to the shocking realization today that I fear my bosses. This hasn't always been the case, but within the last 3-6 months, they have said and/or done something(s) that has turned the respect I had for them to fear. That was a sobering moment for me. Now onto, what to do about it? Borrowing the Serenity Prayer,is this something I can change?Probably yes,but it'll take a lot of mental and emotional work.And I think the more important question is, how &why did they do that? Do I want to invest my time and energy to figure it out?eeeeehhh, no. Life is short, after all. Then, what can I change? Bosses:-) I'm smiling as I write this; surely, that's the right answer. Let the job hunt begin. Wish me luck. I'm happy to report, 10 months later,I'm 3 weeks into my new job. 10 months😲 you say?Yes, 10 months  and that's a story for another day

One of my favourite bloggers, Bikozulu, woke me from my slumber. I had one of those moments, where you read something and feel the author glimpsed into your life and is now writing to you about it. Iron Curtain was my wake up wall. And not just about my writing. There's few(okay, more than a few)of my talents/interests that I don't pursue. I've learnt that if I don't want to do something, I'll find compelling reasons not to. My favourite paragraph in the post  also happens to be the hardest  ' To be clear, getting here has not even been about talent. It’s been about dedication and consistency and passion. In that order. (God, naturally is the first in that order, and he knows it. Donge, Nyasaye?) It’s been about showing up and putting in hours, daily, weekly, monthly, yearly and not falling off the wagon no matter how uncomfortable it felt'' I'm here today,hope to walk these streets again soon.