Do you always have to write your personal life? That was my girlfriend (now ex) asking me each time I wrote about my personal life. She just never understood why it had to be so with so many things to write about out there. But she had no idea, that’s how this blog was born, specifically for venting out, telling anonymous people my story. They had to know I exist. They had to know that just like them, I go through challenges.
But she never got it, and I understood her.
Then I started writing political stuff, sometimes. You know I have this special category on my blog, “Political” that I write politically motivated posts such as Why are Africans bitter with the Chinese? from a youth’s viewpoint. And I had this other pretty lady who felt concerned that someone might try to harm me. She had heard stories of journalists and bloggers getting killed because of doing stories related to politics. And so as a “good friend” she felt like it was her moral duty to warn me.
“Wewe Laza! You better find something else to write about!” She cried out. Before I could say anything, she added.
“Mimi sitaki kukupoteza.”
But I can proudly tell you that I defied them both. I’m my grandfather’s grandson, who are they to tell me what to do (jesting though). They were right to be worried about me. In everything we do in this life, we need a voice of reason, and that will only come from those who truly care about you.
Dear Sharon, I’m sorry to disappoint you. I know it was out of the goodness of your heart but I’m not stopping on my “political career” any time soon. Politics affects us in ways you may never understand. It’s way too important topic to be left to politicians alone. Just like it was your moral obligation to try and warn me, the same way I feel that it’s my moral obligation to inform people, especially outsiders, what’s going on in our country and African continent. Hope you can understand.
And I promise to be careful.
Fey wins, even though I still believe it was out of her selfish interests that she was telling me…actually complaining to me about it. It was out of self preservation. She was scared of being exposed, finding herself in one of my twisted posts. She was concerned about her privacy and I understood as well. Nairobi slayqueens will rarely let you post anything about them without their consent, their image comes first ( actually it’s more about hiding their activities from their many other partners).
But when she came into my life, she found me doing it, writing my twisted stories and asking me to stop it just like that wasn’t fair. Sharing our personal lives is partly what blogging is all about. Making the world nothing but a small village like Musoma — how I miss this place with its red soil that leave one’s toe nails permanently red — the one I grew up in. You wouldn’t believe how much we have in common until we start sharing our little stories without holding back.
Now to the reason why I’m writing this particular post.
I think I’m partly selfish, to be candid and it’s high time I stopped being one and started thinking about others. I have to moderate a little bit on writing me and focus on sharing other important matters like what others are going through out there. I’m not the only one with issues. I’m not the only one who’s almost succumbing to the weight of the world. The heavy taxation, high standard of living in Kenya.
I believe just like each one of you out there, I have a story to tell, and thank God I have the means and the necessary tools to tell it. But what of those who have no means of telling theirs. What happens to them?
That beggar you pass in the streets with an extended dirty hand and a face full of sorrow has a story, and I’m sure he or she would one day love to tell it. The rich man in that villa, the one that goes to work in a chopper and goes to Dubai like on every other weekend to party has a story to tell, just like those homeless people I heard of in California that live in cars because they can’t afford a home.
We have men of God building empires from the desperate poor man’s sweat and blood. A widow has to sell her only cow to go and “plant seeds”, and that’s the only way she would be blessed, according to her pastor. Pastorpreneurs. We know them. Owns a fleet of cars, just imported his second Range Rover and three quarters of his congregants come and leave on foot. A man of God is walking around with five military-trained bodyguards, you are left wondering who is he scared of. The devil? Here in Kenya we have a “prophet” who roads have to be washed before he passes. Red carpet from his car. These are the people I should be writing about, telling people to be aware of, not me.
How can a governor impregnate his lover, a student, and then kill her (If in did he’s the one responsible). Such a person deserves much worse than a prison cell in Naivasha Maximum, Kamiti or Shimo La Tewa. (His victim was buried on 19th of this month.)
These girls too, who don’t want to work hard like the rest of us and make an honest living, instead going for shortcuts to glory deserve my attention too. Girls going after married men for money and other small favours deserve a page on my blog, out of pity. The cemetery will soon be filled with your ambitions, not unless you change. Hope my baby sister will read this post, and share to some of her friends. They deserve to see another day.
Monica Kimani is now dead and her killer, Joseph Irungu is certainly headed to jail and his alleged accomplice who happen to be his fiancée, Jacque Maribe’s media career is certainly over. Jowie’s life will soon be wasted away in a prison cell. What a sad end to life. And how did we get here as a country, losing young girls with their whole life ahead of them? Do you remember Mercy Cherono? The other university student whose murder was linked to the the former Kiambu governor?
Both these people will never know but here I’m, seated at the Aga Khan Walk in Nairobi in the middle of the day — sometimes I come here just to write — writing their heartbreaking story. I’m writing it to the best of my understanding and trying to vilify no one. It’s not in my place to judge but it’s my job to write it. One day it might save someone out there, either one of my ardent readers or a passerby who accidentally stumbles upon my stories.
From now henceforth, I’m taking my personal space off Madekesiworld for someone — a story — that deserve it more. She was right, Fey. There’s so much out here to write about other than on daily basis boring people with my personal sad stories. People have enough of their own problems, don’t need any more of mine.
Happy Mashujaa (Heroes) Day to my fellow Kenyans.