Act Like A Man, Be Like A Tree
I love trees. As a kid, I would climb them, explore them as though they were an elaborate labyrinth of branches. Trees were treated like personal friends, always ready to play. I would find resting spots, where I could just chill, places to hide, places to play and branches to swing off inspired by Tarzan, the white monkey man. Many a time, we just sat, up there, killing boredom and doing absolutely nothing else.
There were trees in Nairobi where we lived, off Ngong Road. A big tree that had ridges on its trunk burrowed by industrious termites. It had vantage top branches with steady places to perch and hang loose. My brother and I spent a lot of time up there.
Of Friendships Lost And Found
“You have not changed”.
That is how long forgotten school mates start conversations. The phrase is supposed to be a compliment. It means one has retained the same appearance despite the poor eating habits, lack of exercise and an assortment of adapted poisons that became part of the staple diet with the loss of innocence. To retain the same appearance after three decades can only be a good thing. The effects of parenting and middle age can take a toll on one’s looks, I kid you not.
I had recently reconnected with a friend online, who I had not seen nor heard from in almost 30 years.
Kennedy Obiero, JaDunga is a guy I went to primary school with in Kisumu at M.M.Shah where I did my final two years of primary school. M.M.Shah was part of a small cluster of Indian founded schools that included Arya, Bhayani, Aga Khan and Xavier (which had Goan roots). My parents believed that if you wanted to pass exams, you went to an Indian manned school because they were unrivaled in mathematics.
I had lost connection with the school’s alumni, save for a small clique of about 5 friends that I remained in contact with since the late 80s.
Of Overcoming Failure And Hills I know.
I am in a love-hate relationship with a hill. We are only recently acquainted and I dread the things it could do to me. But first, some background. I moved to a new apartment block that sat at the bottom of a steep driveway. A hill so unreasonable, my taxi man Morris, in his trusted Corolla, with a cranky gear box, had one look at it and asked whether there were any stones to anchor on, in case he did not pick up momentum. It is a hill that is begging to be conquered. I know it will kill me before I can get fit enough to brag about my accomplishments. If I could overcome the psychological barrier of sprinting up 100m without any suicidal thoughts, the benefits would be real.
Getting fit comes at a price that I am less willing to fork out. It helps that the peer pressure is muted. My mates are not losing any sleep over their expanding midriffs. Having a terminal disease counts as a status symbol these days. It can only mean one is highly stressed which is proof of making more money than one can keep track of. Then there is the ever-ready excuse of ageing. I am not a spring chicken anymore and my health insurance is for emergencies. There is never any time for exercise that could actually be beneficial to my health. Any spare time outside of work and sleep is reserved for clogging arteries and punishing my liver over endless banter sessions with potential business associates. They are all wages of sin that a hill run every other morning would put in check.
Time To Climb Down From Ivory Towers
A cast of international celebrities were reported to be headed to Nairobi. Hollywood A-listers Leonardo Di Caprio, Nicole Kidman, Billionaire philanthropists, George Soros, Paul Allen, Michael Bloomberg and Howard Buffet, flamboyant Elton John, ex NBA athlete Yao Ming and the voice of conservation BBC’s Sir David Attenborough. That is only half the list. It read like a guest list to an invite only destination wedding for the hideously rich and famous.
The big deal was Kenya’s burning of 105 tonnes of ivory and 1.35 tonnes of rhino horn at the Nairobi National Park. The biggest ivory stockpile ever set ablaze and reportedly Kenya’s entire stash. A historic gesture by any measure. Experts estimated it was the equivalent of 9000 elephants that when placed in a single file would measure 30 miles, the distance from Nairobi to Thika town. It was so much ivory that it took a week to stack up it into towers ready to be burned. All these great beasts, murdered for their tusks in the past decade.