The Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Farmer

Now, on the subject of farming, I can hold my own. Hand me a piece of land and some rainfall and I will be capable of growing food. Farming is one of my gifts. I have a deep connection with the soil.

Owning a pair green fingers is a big deal in this finger twitching, tech savvy, digital generation. I know more people than I care to count who are incapable of tending to a basic houseplant. Leave a plant in their care and consider it dead.

Trial By Impotence

I have been following the debate on Jackline Mwende and Stephen Ngila Thenge with some apprehension. Stephen Ngila was the man accused of chopping off the hands of his wife, Jackline Mwende in spate of rage that shocked the nation in mid-2016. Stephen was charged in court and the case is ongoing.

A week ago, fresh details emerged that pointed an accusing finger at Jackline Mwende, when she announced that she was pregnant with another man’s child. The online tabloids went to town with the story, “She cheated” with good reason, “to save her marriage” and it became a heated topic of discussion on the popular radio breakfast show with Maina and King’ang’i on Classic FM.

The Blind Boda Boda Biker

Tambo could hear two voices speaking loudly from the direction of the kitchen. He reached for his phone.  It was 8 am. He had slept like a drunk. Tambo was an early riser, a go-getter, a disciplined man but whenever he retreated back home to the village, the pace of things, sedated his sense of urgency. Whenever he returned to the rugged green hills and valleys of Marenyo, he slipped back to the true pace of life, where there was time to experience its essence.

He sat his tall lean frame up on his bed, determined to not succumb to the temptation of lazing in bed and listening to the orchestra of natural sounds ushering the morning sun. He looked around the room, the same room he had been sleeping in since he was a child. It had a fresh coat of paint and a new ceiling board to replace the previous one that was stained by a large brown patch from a roof leakage. Throughout his teens and twenties, the patch had served as a contemplation spot whilst lying in bed.

Tambo was as old as the house. The house was in much better shape. This was what 34 years of constant improvement looked like. A mature bungalow with character, warmth and rooted in history. Tambo on the other hand felt drained by his success and he wore the exhaustion on his face.

Wanted: Single Men In Their 40s

They say life begins in the 40s. More like, reality, dawns at 40. The fourth decade of one’s life comes with its own varied bag of expectations for men and women. The first is the realization that youth is gone. You might not look your age but you will certainly feel it or be regularly reminded of it, every time some youth asks a dumb question like, ‘Who is Tina Turner?”

To be single in your forties and without child or spouse is a revolutionary statement for women these days, a far cry from the past when the unmarried older woman had to bear the pitiful title of spinster or an old maid.

My Man In Somalia

In the beginning, I felt invincible. I was part of a duo in our neighbourhood, that the boys at the estate called the ‘untouchables’. They could look but they could not touch. We were army wives, married to soldiers and the kind of men you did not want to cross.

Now, not so much.

I have been counting down days, since the start of the year. My man Bwasa, a KDF sergeant is going to soon be back from Somalia. He said, this would be the mother of all Valentines, when he walked me down the aisle. I had anticipated this day for years but we were unable to settle on a date because Bwasa’s combat mission dates were unpredictable.