As I type this article, I’m deeply in thoughts. What does an entity have to offer? I know you’ll argue about this. There’s so much we can get out of this life. Right? But that’s not my point. We all get into this world through the normal process that I don’t think I must get into details. Here comes my concern. Don’t you think there’s much more than just the traditional way of life?
I mean, get born, go to school – and complete all the education stages, that’s if you’re lucky. Get employment (again, if you’re lucky), or self-employ yourself. What next? Get married then have kids. Travel around and do stuff. Of course, in between the process, there’re matters of religion. Grow old and old, then die. Sometimes we die before the old age, meaning old age is not a guarantee. I think there must be something more, something beyond the primary way we live. Just something, but I don’t know what it is.
Anyway, enough of all that. In this world, you’re either rich, poor, or trash. I had no idea about “trash”, existence, until recently. Yes, they do exist. Very sad. Go to YouTube and search, “The Rich, the Poor, and the Trash” and you’ll understand what I’m talking about. Did you know that about 40 million Americans live in poverty? That’s approx — 13.9 %. In Kenya, things are even worse. Almost 50% of Kenyans live in poverty. Let me not get into details.
‘Mayai ni ngapi?’(how much do eggs cost?) I ask a shopkeeper. ‘Moja ni 12 bob,’ he responds. As if I’m new to such surprises in Kenya, I ask, ‘ala!(What!). Si hii kitu imekuwa ten bob juzi, hata ni jana?’(this thing has been ten shillings the other day) ‘Eh imepanda.’(The price has increased). The guy in the shop responds politely. That was the beginning of a meaningful conversion. It was on 25th December 2019, at around 1830 hrs.
Before I decide whether or not to buy the eggs, another guy walks over and acquires a piece of bar soap. ‘Eish, hii ndio ya 25?’(is this what costs 25?) He asks. The shopkeeper looks at him and instead of answering his question, he asks, ‘umeonaje hii siku?’(How was this day?) It was Christmas day. But the day was dreary and gloomy. The guy puts his soap away and responds, ‘mi siajona tofauti na siku zingine.’(It hasn't been different from other days) I then realize they know each other.
After he walks away, the shopkeeper looks at me and says, ‘hii Maisha sio mchezo.’(this life has no jokes) I tell him 2019 has been tough, but to him, many people have always said the same thing towards the end of every year. He then says something of interest to me. “Hii Maisha haina manual,”(life has no manual) I ask why and he goes ahead to give several case studies.
First, he speaks of how he was a disciplined and hardworking boy while in school. How he’s read books and why formal education only is not enough. This guy tells me about his friend who dropped out of school while in form three, and he’s now driving a TX. He talks of another who did not even get to class eight, but he’s a village ‘kingpost.’ He has a good house, well furnished with some cool electronics. He then tells me of another one who is just 40 years old but has a son who has completed high school.
He reminds me of a butcher guy when he says the man got married when he was 20 years. I once went to buy some meat and met with a very dramatic butcher attender. The guy weighs the portion I had requested for then asks whether I like fat. Yani Mafuta Mafuta. I tell him not much. He then asks, ‘na huyo mwengine?’(what about the other?) and I’m like, who? He insists, ‘huyo mwengine.’(the other) It then dawns on me that he’s referring to a spouse. ‘Oh, I stay alone. Not yet married.’ I respond. ‘Ala! Yani wewe hauna kipawa tulipewa kama wanaume?’(do you mean you're not talented as a man) He asks. But before I even digest what he’s referring to, he goes on.
‘Yani, mwanamke anatoka kwao, alafu anaitikia kuishi na wewe kwako.(I mean, a woman leaves her home to come live with you at your place) Na sio mtoto, mtu mzima.(and she's not a kid but a grown person) Anakupikia unakula.(she cooks you eat) Mungu ni wa maajabu kweli.’(God is amazing) He then wraps the meat in aluminium-like paper and hands it over to me. As I take it, he looks at me and says, ‘lakini usijali, next year mmoja atajileta tu.(don't worry, next year one will come your way) Nakuombea upate.’(I'm praying for you to get) I put the meat in my bag, give him the money, and without saying a single word, walk away. As I walk, his words kept me thinking. “Who is this guy, and what the hell was that all about?” “Praying for me to get married in 2020? Why does he even think I’m into that kind of stuff. Uh! Potelea mbali.”(good riddance)
My conversation with the shopkeeper goes on. I look at him and feel he must have been disappointed in life but learned how to put himself together and move on. Being on a Christmas evening, a few customers kept interrupting our talk. He was the only one with an open shop in the neighborhood on this day. I guess he was taking advantage of the situation to reck in some money.
Read part two here.
I mean, get born, go to school – and complete all the education stages, that’s if you’re lucky. Get employment (again, if you’re lucky), or self-employ yourself. What next? Get married then have kids. Travel around and do stuff. Of course, in between the process, there’re matters of religion. Grow old and old, then die. Sometimes we die before the old age, meaning old age is not a guarantee. I think there must be something more, something beyond the primary way we live. Just something, but I don’t know what it is.
Anyway, enough of all that. In this world, you’re either rich, poor, or trash. I had no idea about “trash”, existence, until recently. Yes, they do exist. Very sad. Go to YouTube and search, “The Rich, the Poor, and the Trash” and you’ll understand what I’m talking about. Did you know that about 40 million Americans live in poverty? That’s approx — 13.9 %. In Kenya, things are even worse. Almost 50% of Kenyans live in poverty. Let me not get into details.
Does Life’s Blueprint exist?
A few days towards the end of 2019, I had a chance to interact with some people. I learned exciting stuff through those moments. Very interesting. Now, life’s blueprint. What’s that anyway? Does it even exist? When I say blueprint, I mean, a roadmap. Calculated steps that unfold perfectly. Or rather, a manual. Well, you and I know that there’s nothing like that.‘Mayai ni ngapi?’(how much do eggs cost?) I ask a shopkeeper. ‘Moja ni 12 bob,’ he responds. As if I’m new to such surprises in Kenya, I ask, ‘ala!(What!). Si hii kitu imekuwa ten bob juzi, hata ni jana?’(this thing has been ten shillings the other day) ‘Eh imepanda.’(The price has increased). The guy in the shop responds politely. That was the beginning of a meaningful conversion. It was on 25th December 2019, at around 1830 hrs.
Before I decide whether or not to buy the eggs, another guy walks over and acquires a piece of bar soap. ‘Eish, hii ndio ya 25?’(is this what costs 25?) He asks. The shopkeeper looks at him and instead of answering his question, he asks, ‘umeonaje hii siku?’(How was this day?) It was Christmas day. But the day was dreary and gloomy. The guy puts his soap away and responds, ‘mi siajona tofauti na siku zingine.’(It hasn't been different from other days) I then realize they know each other.
After he walks away, the shopkeeper looks at me and says, ‘hii Maisha sio mchezo.’(this life has no jokes) I tell him 2019 has been tough, but to him, many people have always said the same thing towards the end of every year. He then says something of interest to me. “Hii Maisha haina manual,”(life has no manual) I ask why and he goes ahead to give several case studies.
First, he speaks of how he was a disciplined and hardworking boy while in school. How he’s read books and why formal education only is not enough. This guy tells me about his friend who dropped out of school while in form three, and he’s now driving a TX. He talks of another who did not even get to class eight, but he’s a village ‘kingpost.’ He has a good house, well furnished with some cool electronics. He then tells me of another one who is just 40 years old but has a son who has completed high school.
He reminds me of a butcher guy when he says the man got married when he was 20 years. I once went to buy some meat and met with a very dramatic butcher attender. The guy weighs the portion I had requested for then asks whether I like fat. Yani Mafuta Mafuta. I tell him not much. He then asks, ‘na huyo mwengine?’(what about the other?) and I’m like, who? He insists, ‘huyo mwengine.’(the other) It then dawns on me that he’s referring to a spouse. ‘Oh, I stay alone. Not yet married.’ I respond. ‘Ala! Yani wewe hauna kipawa tulipewa kama wanaume?’(do you mean you're not talented as a man) He asks. But before I even digest what he’s referring to, he goes on.
‘Yani, mwanamke anatoka kwao, alafu anaitikia kuishi na wewe kwako.(I mean, a woman leaves her home to come live with you at your place) Na sio mtoto, mtu mzima.(and she's not a kid but a grown person) Anakupikia unakula.(she cooks you eat) Mungu ni wa maajabu kweli.’(God is amazing) He then wraps the meat in aluminium-like paper and hands it over to me. As I take it, he looks at me and says, ‘lakini usijali, next year mmoja atajileta tu.(don't worry, next year one will come your way) Nakuombea upate.’(I'm praying for you to get) I put the meat in my bag, give him the money, and without saying a single word, walk away. As I walk, his words kept me thinking. “Who is this guy, and what the hell was that all about?” “Praying for me to get married in 2020? Why does he even think I’m into that kind of stuff. Uh! Potelea mbali.”(good riddance)
My conversation with the shopkeeper goes on. I look at him and feel he must have been disappointed in life but learned how to put himself together and move on. Being on a Christmas evening, a few customers kept interrupting our talk. He was the only one with an open shop in the neighborhood on this day. I guess he was taking advantage of the situation to reck in some money.
Read part two here.
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