Happy 5th anniversary and moving notice.

Five years ago today I uploaded my first post on this blog. It was sensational to say the least. I had no other motive but to just share eetsy bitsy pieces of my world with you hence the URL "My tiny two cents."

By default that made me a blogger. My underlying occupation has always been "blogger". I wonder if my name crops up in conversations and to clarify someone asks:

"Which Tracy?"

"The blogger."

"Oooh, that Tracy."

Of course I'm not the only Tracy in the world with a blog but you know what I mean. I also choose not to think which other things follow in that conversation. It gives me so much joy to be associated with my work.

As I checked my stats, I found out people enjoy the realest of things. That motivated me to keep writing about my experiences and those of others. One thing you should know is that writers are quite the breed of human beings. Anything you say or do; good or bad, will be used in a story.

It took me a while as I told you on this post but I finally did it. This blog is like my child. Just like a first time mother, I had no idea what to do, when and how but we got by just fine. Thanks to Google, YouTube and other things.

 I like to joke that if this blog is a child it must be a malnourished one. There are months I never uploaded a single post and when I look at my archives I feel a little sad. It’s like having food but I didn’t feed my child and the food went to waste altogether.

We are 5 years today regardless of all the undernourishment. All was not in vain. Like all children, growth is inevitable. In May 2015 I bought a self-titled domain and moved there haphazardly. I am sentimental about things and people that are dear to me. And this blog (together with its followers) is one of them.

 I never figured how to say goodbye here ( I hate them) Keeping in mind that there might have been people who don’t know why I have never posted anything here or didn’t know what happened to me. A lot has changed while I was away.

Well, me and baby moved houses. 😎 😁 We are now at www.tracygesare.com. Our new home is gorgeous. It has many rooms (categories: which I never quite figured how to fix on here) albeit under construction. You can also follow simply via mail. We are still furnishing (There’s so much planned this year) your ideas are welcome and I hope that you will visit us often in our new home as often as you did on here and more; bring along a friend or two or your whole clan. It will be fun.

I would like to thank all of you that were diligent followers and enjoyed my writing. My mega babe Marion, thank you for aaaalllll the support, being my first follower, always commenting and the ideas you gave. I owe you. Anastacia, Humphrey, Gavnamu, Angy, Sarah, Rees, Momanyi, Gladwell, Tracey, Sammy and everyone who never got around to follow the blog using Google Friend connect, thank you.

P.S

We are keeping this house as a reminder of where it all started.

 XX

LEST WE FORGET .

There are moments I am proud to be associated with my country and there are moments I wish I can change nationalities or be from nobody's country. You know how there is a no-man's land. There should be something like that for people as well. But I think about people in camps and those without freedom of movement et al and I feel good to belong.

This month will go down in history as one of the times Karma has hit us hard. The floods. I do not trust the meteorologists so I am not certain we know how long the rains are here for but whether rain or shine, we will keep living. There are days it rains so heavily I feel bad for all that have to leave the house to go to work but for those of us who work from home (bliss) and work in really warm clothing and have tea whenever we want to and not having to deal with so many  other things. Back to Karma and the rains.

We truly are one. Looking at all those people who turned out for Mater Heart Run It makes me proud to be Kenyan. They could have chosen to stay at home and watch the whole thing on telly but they decided to show up on the grounds very early to run (walk) the whole mile for a good cause.  I am so proud of everyone who took part in the run, including those who spectated. There are so many children who are going to get the help they earnestly needed to make their life normal. I salute you.

In all the good things you people did you forgot to "Keep Your Country Clean".  The used plastic water bottles dropped on the sidewalks and the trenches looked like confetti from afar. Then you can imagine how much damage we are doing to our city. We are the same people who got home at 5 a.m. the other day due to flooded roads. Its not that the skies have never opened up like that before but due to build up of litter and dirt in the trenches.

It is not rocket science. We can contribute in keeping our country clean by being responsible. If we do not litter and there is a regular clean up I am certain these problems are things that can be contained and handled swiftly. Someone will litter and then say "hii Nairobi ni chafu?" (ni kama ilijichafua) It's always about you and me. If you and I choose not to litter then we can begin to experience the change we want to see, practically.

Nature doesn't need human beings because it was here before all of us and whether we treat it right or not, it will go on. If we litter and treat it with cruelty, it will definitely get back to us. Eyesore's, floods, filth, global warming; if we are good to it,we will reap serene and a clean environment. The choice is ours.

I am not sure if the NYS did their work conclusively because they just got the dirt from the ditches and that was it. It is waiting for the rains to come and sweep it back. Aki Kidero!! If only he stopped being an ignorant and arrogant person he could start making the right moves. Probably take notes from Machakos Governor Alfred Mutua. Only then shall we have something close to a functional county and a practical government.

These strangely unconventional dreams.

I have had the most bizarre dream of my life. Well, at least for those that I can remember. I had to step out of bed and step on the cold floor to assure myself I am a free bird. The first person I wanted to talk to was my father and hear his assuring voice but it is 5am and I didn't want to freak anyone out.

This is a little bit much of how it goes. I am just chilling in a room with two bunk beds, it is not familiar at all and I am hoping I won't now that it is associated with this dream. And I am sitting on the lower bed; just how we used to do back in boarding school during chill time. Of course having that mood set you expect it to be story time. I am talking to this young lady of about 19 or 20 and she has stories. Those stories people have and they never shut up but they are annoying as they come but you are taking it because you lack an escape. She happens to be talking about living in the hood "ghetto " and how its the coolest thing ever and how it is making her who she is and being all proud. It is not a bad thing to be proud of the surrounding you grew up in and how it made you who you are.

Now, I am a village or small town girl. I like to say village because even in that small town I lived a few kilometers from the town itself. But I do not insist and rub it off people's faces. She goes on and on and ooooonnnn until the screws in my mouth fall off and I blurt "I hate ghetto people, their mannerisms and all the vibe they come up with." She stops talking.  Staring at me as if in disbelief and indeed she was.

She calls out,
"mum!"
"Mummy!"
This is what the ghetto taught her! If you wanna talk to your mama you rise and go to her. Not just yell from wherever you are. Unless you are sick and you need help getting up but I have never had to call my mum like that before and I am not about to, not even when I am older. Mother's deserve all the respect (happy belated mother's day by the way) and love every waking day.

Having established that, I do not expect her mother to dash into the room like it was an urgent matter. But she does. And she gives her story of how I despise the ghetto and its dwellers. What's shocking is, she exaggerates and I try to defend myself but she cuts me short.
Girl:"Unadhani ni kizungu hatuelewi, sindio?"
Me: "That's not what I meant, honestly."
Her mother just stares at me. Those looks mother's give and you would rather she slaps you instead. Now I'm confused. Do I apologize or try to explain or let them deal with it the way they want to. After a few back and forths the mother dashes outside. Fastening her lesso.

At this point I am wondering why I didn't just shut up and let the lady be proud of her life. The don't want to listen. But I keep talking. The more I talk, the worst it gets but I keep trying to defend myself.
She leaves her gate walks past a few more houses and keeps going towards the estate gate. I am running behind them. I wish I had stayed back in the house but I keep running.

They walk outside and cross the road and take a path behind shops that leads to a couple grocery vibandas . There are a few more selling this and that then there's an infinity slum sprawling on that land. We are outside a "hotel" and of course its almost midday and there are a couple of people inside and out eating a variety of foods from stained plastic plates.

She then starts addressing all of them. Like a kamukunji. And I realize they all know each other. She exaggerates and these men with stern faces look at me then back at her. At this point I am wondering "surely, I only said one thing! I haven't killed nobody and y'all are going to act like it is a criminal offence." So I open my mouth to defend myself, lo and behold women start talking back and I decide then to give them a piece of my mind. I didn't say nice things. I might have called them lazy gossipers and other things as well.

Next thing I know, grave silence. I know I shouldn't have said.anything then. All of them walk into the hotel lock themselves up to discuss my situation and how to deal with "it." Don't ask me why I stood there, I don't know either. I wasn't curating this dream.

All this time I am trying to explain myself but the more I try the more trouble I get myself into. The lady who got me into trouble was beside me the entire time punctuating her mothers stories with more lies. She now tells me these people "ndio wale wasee" they run the ghetto streets and are going to "deal with me accordingly."

See that's the thing, where I come from you don't know people from more than 7 homesteads around you. So nobody runs the streets. Its simpler when people mind their own businesses. People deal with their issues by themselves or go to the chief if they have to. Lady tells me these people are gonna chop me hands and make me eat them because of what I said. I don't know why I did not faint. Those mean faced guys looked capable of everything aje said.

I run. There was a social gathering happening and I went in there hoping no one from the mean faced people would find me. I went in there and hid behind a very huge man who seemed friendly. Time lapsed and I think I might have gotten over the fear and started mingling. Then when the huge man moved to the side to talk to some of his friend in the crowd, I see this lady's friend (I later came to that conclusion because I see them together laughing) staring. Its very rude to stare because I find it nerve wrecking. I break the ice; I smile. He doesn't smile back. Instead he calls into the croud "ndio huyu." I stood there looking for the huge man who I couldn't see, I might have tinkled a little (in the dream) and I tried to beg for them to "chorea story" but they carried me to outside.
I was imagining worst case scenario. All I wanted was to say my last words to my family because I was certain they were going to kill me. I get me to a police car and I am taken to the police station. You can imagine the transition of events. I thought those people were going to "deal with me." The dream skipped some logical scenes and next thing i know, I am now being taken to prison.

I wondered how I was going to survive in there and if those guys were going to send someone to deal with me. I begin to think of all the errands I had lined up for the next day, how I was going to miss writing at midnight, the freedom of sleeping on a comfortable bed & eating good food. As I am being escorted to the cells I see the lady and her friend. I yell at them both since I am going to prison anyway I could tell them anything. I wish I could remember what I told them but they must have been really mean things. My alarm went off the moment the lady started talking back. My dreams must have really disliked her as well to shut her out like that.

Roundabout chaos

Reality hasn't been this hilarious in a while. Especially in Kenya. It’s either we are protesting or protesting or protesting. Twitter brawls being the Wars we always win against anyone and everyone, ask Nigeria, ask CNN, ask BBC, Botswana, and is it South Africa or who? But Kenyans on twitter have bile like nobody else. Beware. Thou shall tread softly.

They can fight Mugabe and his dancing styles down the legacy he has struggled to build for 4,950,465 years he has been in power. They can troll anyone and anything when they have the time (which they always do). I like the cyberspace freedom we are experiencing and I hope it stays that way as long as it is not hurting anyone.  

Social Media has been awash with this roundabout thing. I do not know what to call it because….. I honestly don’t understand how this is going to make motorists (and commuters) lives better. I insist on motorists because y’all can’t just park by the side of the road and walk across the road and into the meeting room. Your car will probably be towed or someone might assume you don’t need it and help themselves to the things that can be dismantled. Or worse help themselves to the whole car.

On the flip side, change cannot change you, if it doesn't challenge you. I can hardly say that with a straight face. I doubt this is the kind of change we need for now but what do we know? Our job is to elect shoddy people into office let them do shoddy work (read have bins to mark the roads and give stupid direction) when the 5 years lapse we repeat the whole process. When I am capable enough I shall build an empire somewhere where me and my people can go live in peace, all these chaos are just too much sometimes. 

I thought I should share. Why so serious? Enjoy the trolling.

This one had me in tears.

#HairDillema

We are sometimes too swift to shift routes than switch gears. Some decisions take long to be made and implemented but some are very impulse. We regret some, but most of the time we learn.

Been thinking about cutting my hair for a while now, and every time I look in the mirror or when it comes to having to comb it in the morning I just think that the time is now and I should stop second guessing. For those with treated hair, you know managing hair with growth is a nightmare. I cannot imagine what you naturalista’s go through. I have renewed respect for y’all. Really.

In the past months and weeks I have had the thoughts a little over seventeen times a day and knowing who I am, I think I am about to become friends with the barber sooner than later. I have asked you people who the best barber is and no one seems to be taking me seriously.

 However, there are a few things that hold me back. I saw a feature on TV some time ago and I wanted to go DIY. The guy cut his hair at the barbers and he is suffering a horrible skin disease to date, that made him look like he had scales. It was so disgusting I didn't get to watch the whole thing and I don’t want to disgust you either. Second thing that makes me think otherwise is the cold season coming up. In as much as I am not going bald, I can’t imagine what it is like not having enough warmth from the protective styling like braids or weaves. Yes, I said weaves, wigs too.

Third, you know how you tell yourself “its hair, it will grow”? What if it doesn't or takes longer? It is different when you have hair then you have the option to chop it up. There’s the big chop but there’s nothing like a big growth. There’s also the moment when you are still at the barbers and you want to glue your hair back on because it did not turn out as you visualized it.

Tragedy of all things hair is when it doesn’t turn out like you expected. Like how I told you guys here about my encounter with some know it all’s who braided my hair. I like perfection. I have always been one to explain things to my hair dresser until they get because if they say they got it and make a mess out of my hair I never say nice things, there’s one who i had to stop midway when I realized they were doing the opposite of what I told them. I like someone who is honest with me from the very start. Just say "I have never done this before but I can try", that way I am prepared taking the risk to sit down and trust you with my hair. It’s not too much to ask, just be honest.

I have seen a couple of people with short hair, not even a couple; I see all of you with short hair. Annabel Onyango looks fantastic with the short hair and she just might be my inspiration. Then I look back at pictures of me with long hair and I’m like “maybe not”. But we will know very soon. Sometimes it is good to think these things through. Feel free to drop a hair dressers contact below and your thoughts about the big chop are. welcome

Birthday Throwback, a father's love (and men)

Nothing excites me more than my father’s voice on the other end of the line in the morning. It just rubbishes everything and whatever doubts I have about affection. It is most assuring. Making me not depend on the ‘good morning beautiful’ from seasonal people because that one guy always assures me of one thing, he has thought of me enough times already (and prayed for me).

I do not believe that men forget or do not value birthdays, they just choose to ignore. I count myself lucky because my father is one big fan of birthdays. He has never missed any of mine or my mothers. I remember all those toffee sweets and cakes and goody goody chocolates I got on my birthday without forgetting the orange quencher juice coloring everyone’s lips on Tracy Day; 9^th of March.

There was one particular birthday I remember crying. Partly out of being homesick and because I was so mad that the teacher didn't let me talk to my father. I had gone to boarding school when I was still quite young, but I was doing better than those who had lost keys and no longer had locks to their boxes and lockers but mine still hang on my neck. C’mon don’t laugh, it was the safest.  Keys fall out of pockets and in to pit latrines, someone can pickpocket you *jK* but somehow if you do not hang em on your neck chances of losing them was quite high. I couldn't take chances so I took control. Lol. Don’t feel woishe for me, it made me who I am today. I couldn't have chosen otherwise, maybe an option of showering with warm water and better food.

Where were we again? Uh, crying on my birthday. I was turning 9. Imagine. And the teacher wouldn't let me see my daddy. How cruel? First term in boarding school, no mid-term just visiting day and no food or snacks was allowed. Cruel again. But I didn't die. So I remember it was around 6:15ish, we had already had supper and I was walking to the class block because prep was about to begin. A friend of mine told me that my dad was in the administration block and I thought she was teasing probably because she had heard me talk about my past birthdays and how I wished I could get goody goody. I partly believed her and waited outside the class. I couldn't miss. I didn't want to be told; I wanted to see him with my own eyes at least.

 6:25. the bell went off and we all huddled to our various classes like we always did before we got canned. Very barbaric. I sat close to the window looking outside. 6:35, the one time I took a break, he had already passed my class almost at the gate. The class block faced the sun and the gate, so it was as if I watched him walking to the sunset and I watched his steady steps, blue paper bag in his hand; I could smell the sweets and chocolates and all those confectioneries, until the long shadow aligned with his silhouette and I wanted to call him out.

 Love can make you do crazy things; I was about to prison break out of that class. I didn't think twice, I rose and ran out the door, and towards the washrooms which was near the fence. I knew a spot so I called out “daddy” and he looked to my direction. I waved frantically as if to make up for the hug and he smiled and waved back with a huge consoling smile as if to say “the sweets will be waiting at home darling, I will make sure nobody touches them”. He didn't risk coming to the fence.

Tears started rolling, I couldn't stop. They gushed out like fountains. I wanted to go home. To my daddy. To sit on his lap and play brick game together.  To have my sweets. I felt sick and just stood there  as he signaled me to go back to class, I think he imagined the number of canes I could be served and he didn't want to be the cause of such a harsh birthday present.  Luckily, no one saw me do my little illegal business and I walked into class sniffing. The nosy ones who asked what was wrong I told them it was just a terrible stomach ache and they left. At least I got a card delivered though.

Bottom line, dear men, do not deceive us you forgot our birthday and ladies if he honestly doesn't remember it, you probably don’t mean much to him but they are not my dad. *and that’s none of my business* 

Taking Stock 3.

Making:  It clear to myself that I need to calm down because for some odd reason I am thrilled that it is my birthday but I just can’t contain myself. I am beyond ecstatic. Very high spirits.

Cooking: Considering it is morning, I am having my daily dose of morning coffee. Haven’t made anything yet for breakfast because I had made sweet potatoes so I might as well have that instead of bread, I am trying to incorporate more healthy meals in my diet.

Drinking: I just said I am taking coffee but I would have loved some fresh mango juice. I have to confess I am a mango addict. I can live on Mangoes alone for quite a number of days. I haven’t tried but I definitely should and know how exactly that will pan out.

Reading: Den of Inequities by Kinyanjui Kombani. Best Kenyan writer since Marjorie McGoye. The book takes you through the city; I can maneuver the streets with the flow of the story. That’s the good thing with reading about home, because you can see that highway and the pothole and the shacks and the mansions and can relate to the wait at the bus stop and the likes.

Wanting: Ribs for lunch. Already. And its only 9am. Or dinner but I really am craving ribs.

Playing:  Turning me on Keri Hilson ft Lil Wayne. The Keri Hilson playlist is on and I like the lost school vibe on Tracy Day.

Wasting: Nothing at all. Or I cannot notice what exactly it is that I might be wasting at the moment.

Sewing:

Wishing: I could have been exactly where I wanted to be today, but you know how we make plans and then God laughs. Yeah, not that I am complaining but also realizing God’s timing is the best and I am making progress anyway.

Enjoying: The quiet of the morning, it is so peaceful unlike the weekends when children are all over the place yelling and running around outside and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Liking: The scent of Crème6 oils. I know that’s a random one but it smells heavenly and feels really great on the skin. I hope they won’t stop producing them because I might have found the one.

Wondering: Why everyone else wants it to rain and all I want is for the sun to shine for the rest of time. Maybe if it rains only at night. I love the sunny weather.

Loving: Wena and Easy to love. Heavy K is a boss!! Bucie is just that lady too.

Hoping: that I can get a good tailor who can make me an actual bralet from Ankara. I am very much afraid of these tailor business because they make the first things perfectly and then do the second so shoddily you can’t even wear the damned thing.

Marvelling: At how much long it has been since I started blogging. 4years. A baby born at around the same time now goes to school with a fancy bag with a cartoon on the back. So cute in that little uniform and tiny shoes. 

Needing: to get a good barber, I have been singing the big chop song I think it is time we went bald.

Smelling: The Crème 6 oils scent and Amla hair lotion they actually smell the same, and look the same. I hope you are not thinking what I am thinking but I like it either way.

Wearing: A black dress.

Following: A healthy meal regime because it is better to eat healthy now than to have to cut down on things in the future.

Noticing: I am becoming better every day at working out. I have done almost 45 minutes of a number of exercises and I am feeling like I can build a skyscraper and dig a volcano. No more painful musclesJ

Knowing:  Better than to have expectations from people. You can only save yourself the others can be there or not, learn to stand alone but never try to lean solely on someone else.

Thinking: About how I need to change from blogger to Wordpress. I hear you are having difficulties commenting. It is bound to happen sooner than later. I am working on it.

Feeling: Wonderful that today I check my stats and we are getting to 6k. Thank you for stopping by, you made me smile and it will be better if you share too. Thank you very much, I am counting on you.

  

Bookmarking: Brian Tracy and Robin Sharma websites, I have been getting some real good vibes from on there.

Opening: I should be opening gifts and what not but I guess that will be in the evening, yeah? Friends? Family? Ok.

Giggling: Laughing at Angela’s Jokes. This girl is so funny, if only our inside jokes could be commercialized we would be making it big in the industry but meanwhile I am sorry we have to keep the hysterical laughter to ourselves. ION my niece cant say Syokimau she says Kismayu, cracks me up every time where did she even get that?

                                                                              

Feeling: All sorts of happy because for the umpteenth time I am mentioning that it is my birthday, excuse my exhilaration but I can’t explain the source and it’s not like I want it to go away so let me enjoy it while it lasts.

Borrowed Posts: Mr.Githaka's way to the top.

I am sure you have noticed by now I like to keep my posts short, but here is a long post alert. Whatever you do, read it to the end. I Borrowed it from Nonini who borrowed it too. I did not edit anything, I lifted it as is. This is definitely going to be worth your time. What I know is that it will speak to someone as it spoke to me and that alone is enough. Amen? Amen. Without further ado, here goes.

Mr. Githaka says he was so ambitious from childhood that he achieved to join the only secondary school he ever wished of joining (while everybody selected 3 school, he only did did one school), went to the university he dreamt and pursued the career he ever wished. But after becoming an architect (the only job he knows he could make money without struggling) he realized that still he didn’t have the clout and clamor of a billionaire.

He wanted to make more money. So he listed down 10 billionaires in Kenya. The likes of Njenga Karume, John Michuki, Chris Kirubi, Mwai Kibaki,James Mwangi etc and embarked on a study about these people. His main aim was to discover what happened with them. When was their turning point? What did they discover? What do they do? What don’t they do? Obviously, these are normal men, with normal upbringing and faced same challenges as their peers but there came a time when the broke loose from their peers and ended up where they are. So in 3 years, he tried and met 9 out of the 10 billionaires just to try and discover them.

After interacting with them, he found 5 things about these guys that they have in common and that has made them be where an what they are.

The five things are:

1. They Understand The Power Of Many (Numbers.) 

The richer you are the further you go away from

your business (the more you disassociate self from the business) but the poorer you are, the more you want to identify with your business.

Successful business people do not have “my business” they have “our business idea.” That’s why when you go to a place like Silver prings hotel, chances are some employees there do not know who owns the place and have never seen him/her. But when you go to a poor person’s business, that person is always there worse even as the cashier, accountant, attendant etc. The trick of business success is in numbers not in self. As long a you have a personal business called “mine” then be sure you are headed to

poverty. People die but companies don’t die.

2. They Are Serious Borrowers. 

Borrowing money is their cup of tea and their signature. If you have never borrowed money, you will never lend money. And cant lend it if you don’t have it. A bank is a broker between the poor and the rich. The only place where the two meet is in a bank. The poor brings the money and the rich takes it. A poor person saves the money because they have more money than their thinking capacity. So they keep the money there so they can go and think what to do with it… Rich people come to pick that money because they have many ideas than the money they have. So they come to pick that money to go implement those great ideas. Only poor people operate savings and fixed deposit accounts. Fixed deposit accounts are for the living dead. People who undertake and commit that they will not think about any idea for that money until the expiry of that period of time, and that if they end thinking and what that money, then they will be penalized. Rich people operate current accounts. Therefore, a bank exists purposely for 2 reasons:

A) For the poor to bring in the money

B) For the rich to come and take it away.

Banks make more money from borrowers than savers. Hence they respect the former more.

3. They Have High Level NETWORKS!

These people as explained in the 1st point believe the power of many. As a result, they have many likeminded friends who can be of benefit to them. They have friends all over. Rich people have no age, tribal, geographical or gender boundaries. It doesn’t matter who or what you are. As long as you are of value to their ventures. Building such networks need a lot of travelling and interacting with people. People never get rich in their hometown. Somebody who dreams of being rich, regardless of their age or status, must have; A Driving license (because they will own a car – for them its criminal to be seeing cars everyday but never own one.), A passport (because you must travel widely to expand your networks and to sharpen your mindset – If you have been buying a suit in Kenya for Ksh. 30, 000) and find it in China at Ksh. 800, your language and ideas change.) and you must know how to swim because you are going to

have fun and relax.

4. They Are Great Risk Takers!

As long as you avoid taking risks, you are headed to the grave a poor fellow. Taking risks is like walking in the dark. You know where you are going but can’t see there. Better still, you are more confident and secure when you are accompanied than when alone. The more people you are the more secure hence the 1st point. Risk taking is about numbers.

5. They Have Read The BIBLE!

They understand and make use of the parable of the sower. The seed is the shilling. They put the shilling on the fertile land. They simply know where to put their money and where not to put their money.

They understand the current business trends and make business decisions with this in mind. If you bought a plot 5 years ago at Ksh. 500, 000 you are worth nothing 5 years later but that plot even if it will be worth 2M...the only way you can realize that money is by selling it or borrowing against it... (remember poor people don't borrow neither can they *$#@damn it sell). A rich person will invest that same money somewhere where it will be worth 200M within the same period of time. That’s why you find a 2-bedroom house varying from Ksh. 2,000 to Sh. 80,000 or even more from one place to another. Or a cup of tea ranging from Ksh. 5 bob to Ksh. 500. Yet when you ask all these business people, you will discover that each of them decided the price. Why the variance? They know the value chain. In business the “Higher you go, the cooler it becomes…..and the lesser the pressure.” A landlord collecting Ksh. 2,000 for a 2-bedroom house has more problems than his colleague collecting Ksh. 80,000 for the same house elsewhere. While one has to literally come collecting payments at 4am every 1st day of the month (lest the tenant escapes), the other’s money is safely banked in his account even before the month ends. While one can even bargain with the tenant about the rent, the other is fixed, and you either or leave it. While one regardless of the cheap rent has few tenants, the other has a problem of too many tenants coming to look for housing. Same with the tea business. The one for Ksh. 5bob, the cup is bigger than the Ksh. 500. Yet the 5bob one can even “choma” you if you are not full or even can pay later if you don’t have cash. Unlike the Ksh. 500 one. Chances are the Ksh. 5 bob businessman doesn’t even have a bank account or goes to save. And he does everything in his business. Know where to put your money. Create value for your cash don’t battle with market prices. They are not your limit. Its better to be the last among the rich than to be the 1st among the poor.

A Poor (POOR) Person Is One Who:-

P- Passes 

O- Over 

O- Opportunities 

R- Repeatedly.

Culture? What culture?

“If you love your spouse, which you should, you should devote yourself to them” the instructor says.

 I highly doubt devotion exists in people’s vocabulary these days. Everyone is tough-headed and selfish, most people that is; we all want to know what’s in it for us. How is this to my benefit? We ask too many questions. Because we know better than to jump in or follow blindly.

“Some women now propose to their men, doesn’t necessarily have to be the man doing it” he says this with a smirk on his face; you can hear it in his voice too.

I look around; all the men in the audience are silent. The look on ladies faces indicates an interesting conversation is about to crop up if they all decide to mouth the rumpus going on in their heads.

“Preach!” the blonde with a bob cut seems to think.

The fresh make-up lady at the back seems to think, “Yes, you said it!!” snapping in her head.

“Why not? I mean we are equals now, aren’t we?” The ‘human-right-activist‘attitude says to herself.

“Some of us are the bread winners and most of the time make the decisions so why not?” The bold woman I like thinks to herself arm’s crossed in a tight knot now.

“What is wrong with this generation?” The old woman thinks to herself probably in her mother tongue J , her face ever so readable than others, shock so clear in her eyes.

I would've loved to know what lady in red dress and shocking lipstick thinks but she is sitting before me facing the other side of the room.

                              

No one says anything, I’m surprised. ” If you like it put a ring on it” is what I’m thinking.

 “Do you think it’s time for the reversed roles?” he seems to have seen what I was seeing so he wanted people to “fungua roho” and spark a debate, he succeeds.

People mumble and chuckle to themselves but lady-in-red says quite firmly and sure, “No, that’s against our culture." It probably is, I hope she meant it as different as Indian and African cultures and not asking someone out. No. It's not the same.

Probably in their culture it is a taboo. But I do not see her wearing hides and skins so I’m left wondering what she is talking about. The dictionary meaning of culture is, the customs, ideas, beliefs, etc of a country or society. Which to me means it is ever so evolving. This year and next year have very little in common.

People no longer pay dowry in livestock, no one has to soak their face in animal blood or kill a lion. Because we are liberal. Men do not beat up women to show love or even when they are angry; they will bite off your luck at being a biological father if you laid a hand on them. Women are now working as hard, some twice as hard as men. So please tell me what culture we are talking about here? 

Women are raising children by themselves and doing a very good job. Women run successful businesses, head organizations, some run empires and countries. These women don't care what is allowed and what isn't? Who is allowing us by the way? Exactly! I do not think these type of driven women would be afraid to tell a man they like them if he doesn't do it first. 

These women don't like to make assumptions. Since men say they are not mind readers, we like to point out some things to avoid wasting time. I don't know about proposing though. It is in a man's place to ask the woman to marry them but in the initial stages I like to see it as this, we are adults and we know what we both want, so are you game or you are just playing? Do you wanna try this? More like finding Mr. Left and dragging him to the right. :D

People should find a new scapegoat. Culture is too vague unless you are willing to explain exactly what you mean. These are the same people who will not shave their heads when bereaved or wash their husbands feet because who follows culture anyway?!!!

KEEP YOUR RESOLUTIONS

Remember how you swore by 2015 to be the year your turn your life around? Well, we are a few days into March and how is that working for you?  How many things on that list (if you have any) have you checked? How many more to go? Do you have a plan? Have you already thrown in the towel and resolved to “do you” the oldest excuse in the book?

 I am not speaking this from a place of self-righteousness because all the things about planning and failing to plan I can relate, I am one of you so here’s what I have learnt from the people that have done it and keep reinventing themselves relentlessly.

1.       Make small achievable goals: You can’t eat a whole elephant in one bite. But you still have to eat the elephant. So you have one option. Plan accordingly and break it down to daily routines so that you increase efficiency as you go. If you want a toned body, start by doing simple exercises from home even in your bedroom and build towards tougher exercises to allow yourself to adjust gradually.

2.       Change your routine for the better: You cannot do the same things over and over and expect different results hence you change the way you do things so that you can achieve different results. As simple as that.

3.       Manage your time: your plate was probably full by the time you thought of the new ideas and here you are trying to add something else onto it. If you do not plan to manage your time efficiently this could be a recipe for disaster. You could end up messing up something important. Establishing a balance is what you need to do and time management is a good place to start.

4.       Avoid Burnouts: when you do not plan, all new things you take up might become exhausting and wearing you down because you are still into your old routine and you could start wondering why you took the new thing up which could lead abandoning it. The secret is in the planning, that’s how people manage.

5.       Keep your eyes on the prize: When you want to give up the cooking class, yoga, foreign language, martial arts class because you just can’t handle the heat and all you want to do is get out of the kitchen, remember why you started. What was your end in mind? Always remind yourself how bad you want the prize and keep going.

Get to work.  Rome wasn’t built in a day and so is the hot body. Good luck.