What are you doing here?

It is very interesting how the mind works. One minute, you are fine, living your life and the next, you are being pulled down to a completely different route than what you were expecting or anticipating. In my experience, these unwelcomed thoughts generally come more often after going through a traumatic experience or a great transition that your mind cannot make sense of or comprehend.

Recently I went through such an experience and as I am learning to cope with the trauma of it all, I still experience a lot of episodes or triggers that I feel are out of my control. I could be walking down a street and bang! I am filled with raw emotions as if the event is happening right at that moment. What I keep asking myself during this moments is, ‘how long will I continue to feel like this?’, ‘when will this come to pass?’. But in all of this, I am grateful that I can go back in scripture to get my answers. One of the most fascinating stories in the Bible to me is the story of Elijah in a cave experiencing an episode. Elijah is going through a hard time with His calling and with the people he was called to serve. In this verse, God asks Elijah, ‘What are you doing here?’. And I try to use that for my situations. What am I doing here? What has brought me to this place of darkness that has enveloped me? And I find most times, when a trigger is activated, my thoughts take root and that leads to the spiraling.

I was recently challenged to state bible verses that talk about thoughts, I could only come up with a couple 🙂 but I made it my mission to look for more that will help me combat my spiraling thoughts. Here are some that I found:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!” Psalm 139:23-24

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Romans 12:2

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4:8-9

The last verse states that, whatever is honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, worthy of praise, we should think of these things. I pray that all of us who find ourselves in the places in our minds that do not contain the things above that first we will ask the Holy Spirit that is in us to help us catch the negative thoughts and direct us to things are good for us and honor the Kingdom of God. For more bible verses on thought, visit this site.

Thank you for reading! See you on the next post!

Love,

Sylvia.

Hey honey, I am home!

Wow! It has been a looong while since the last time I wrote something on this site. Thinking back, it seems like a life time ago when I first though of starting a blog and man did I write! I started this blog and Daily Strength and looking back at all I wrote, although amateur-ish, I had a passion for it. I had a passion for life that I could translate it into words on a keyboard with cool-ish titles. And then it was gone! Writing started to feel like a burden and not a gift. The words that so often came so easy to me became out of my reach with each passing day, month and years. Where once I would say, ‘I am a writer’ with somewhat shy-confidence. Those words could no longer come out of my mouth. BUT…now I am back! Still an amateur but with hopes of igniting a spark.

Where as before I had two sites, I want to combine all of my thoughts into one. At Daily Strength I wrote about my heavenly Father, His goodness and His saving grace. Here I wrote about….life and how I viewed the world from my little corner of the world. As I begin this new season, I will be sharing about my walk with God and everything to do life!

I am very excited to start this journey and I hope that you will join me as we explore this new season!

With love,

Sylvia.

The Life of do’s and don’ts

I was watching a movie a while back (I do not quite remember the title) but one of the characters said, ‘our lives should not be made of do’s and don’ts’.  I never really thought much about it then, but a couple of weeks back, that statement hit home and it started to apply to my life. How many time have you wanted to do something and you think, ‘well, that is not for me’ or ‘my family nature’s business fanatics, there is no way I can diverge from that’

It is funny how, from a young age we have been taught to view life in a certain way. Something is either right or wrong, good or bad. There is this imaginary straight line that we have to follow and when we take a detour, it is considered wrong. With this we have learned to walk through life in a procedure kind of way and we have made our lives a do’s and don’ts life.

Do’s- go to school, get good grades, go to University, get your honors degree, get a job, get married, have children and live ‘happily’ ever after. This is just a nutshell of what we all envision.

Don’ts-fail exams, get fat (although in African society it is actually good), do drugs, have children out of wedlock and the list is endless.

When one goes against do’s and don’ts everything shifts in ourselves and in the society. We do not realize that life is not a category of all that but a learning process. A process that is supposed to shape us to be whole, to be what we are meant to be and not just robots of the universe.

Yes, some don’ts should be just that. They are considered evil in every society in the world. When doing this, deep down we feel it’s not right, things like robbery, murder, cheating or mainly doing something that would harm any other human being in a physical, mental or emotional way. But since the world is the way it is, people still do these things over and over.

The do’s help us to focus but they should not tie us to be something or someone we are not. Just because there is a certain path that has been laid out for you it does not mean that it is the only path you can follow, venture out, look for new things, fall and get back up.  At the end of the day you will learn and do better than you did when you started out. I think of all the things I have thought of doing in my life then that small voice, that discouraging small voice in my head whispers that I can’t and immediately that becomes a don’t and I put it off just because it was out of my comfort zone. I know we have been through similar situations and sometimes that discouragement becomes fear and that fear paralyzes us.

But it is for us to decide, do you want your life to be a do’s and don’ts life or do you want to take charge?

 

 

Your Passion.

Not knowing what you want to do with your life happens to almost everyone, the rich and poor, the ones with degrees or the ones with a diploma, the ones who had/have a ‘plan’ and that plan seems impossible to even start or the ones who decided to wing it and see where it all led. From every walks of life, you are bound to ask yourself this question once or twice (or a million times), ‘what am I to do with my life?’ This comes mostly when the environment around you changes, your friends get married and has tiny cute babies, all your friends from school have this awesome jobs and seemingly awesome life and of course the internet has the last word with the snap chat videos, pictures on Instagram and awesome timelines on Facebook. All you can ask is why me? When will my time come?

What we forget is that we also have the same opportunities, they may not come as readily but they do present themselves in many different forms. What we decide to do with the opportunities is what makes the difference.

If you want to change and move to the next level, if you are tired of where you are now ask yourself;

Where do I want to be?

Who do I want to be?

Where am I now?

What do I need to do to GET OUT of this place am in?

How will I get to where I want to be?

What will be my drive?

You might have more questions but start with some of those. Get a pen and paper or go digital and use your phone. Answer each questions careful reflecting on your life, how far you have come, how much you have given, your achievements and how much you are willing to give to move from the level you are in to the next level. Be it from a job, from that career path, your relationships, your goals and motivations and change that.

This is not easy, your brain will give you comfort, it will tell you, ‘all will be well, just a few more months, hold on.’ But as long as you know what your passion is and you have passion for what you want, strength and courage will manifest from within. Knowing where you want to be and not being comfortable where you are (if you are not happy that is) is the first step in starting your journey.

Sorry for not posting for a while, I am finally back to work and the work load is taking it’s toll on me. But I promise to find a routine that works so I can post more. I leave you with a quote I found from a book am currently reading, Maisie Dobbs by Jacqueline Winspear;

There is nothing of which every man is so afraid, as getting to know how enormously much he is capable of doing and becoming-Soren Kierkegaard

My visit to The Pearl of Africa

I have heard and read about the Pearl of Africa since I was in primary school and to say the truth, in my mind it was just another Kenya but with more bananas and groundnuts. My friend, Sam, did a trip from Kenya to South Africa a while back and I remember how he described Uganda, Kampala to be specific when he got there. The first sentence on a blog post about his love affair with Kampala he wrote;

“Less than 24 hours after leaving something I love – something I have given my heart and soul – I cheated. Ruthlessly. Guilt-free. I was caught with my pants down, a shit-eating grin across my face. Sorry, Nairobi. Kampala has (for now) stolen my heart.”

I remember how shocked I was and as I continued reading his post, I became more and more interested in his experience and with this country that since my childhood has been a shadow of kingdoms in my mind.

I can now say the same, I fell in love. I went to Tororo, a small town in Uganda near the border of Kenya and Uganda. Relaxed is the general feeling I got from the moment I arrived. From the quiet neighbourhoods to the happy people. It made me feel like I was in an African version of Bluebell Alabama from the Hart of Dixie. I kept on thinking how this town was the kind of town I would love to live in.

Tororo town view from Tororo Rock

The town is small with many people living on the outskirts. Just beyond the town is a big hill known as Tororo Rock after which the town was named. I had an opportunity of climbing this volcanic rock which is 4865ft above sea level and the view from the top was absolutely breathtaking.

Tororo Rock

From this town you can get to Kampala through Jinja town, get to Kenya through Lukaka boarder in Kitale or Malaba boarder. The town is surrounded by hills which makes the landscape even more beautiful.

I loved everything from the food especially matoke with groundnut sauce, to the fruits, the people, the terrain and the sense of belonging. It was a bit warm than Nairobi but compared to all the other positives of this place that was just but a minor thing.

I learned and experienced a lot from this trip thanks to my brother and sister who were great hosts and to all the people who taught me about the area and showed me around. I am definitely planning another visit to Uganda and have an experience in other places like the town of Jinga, Kampala, visit the hot springs and maybe even climb Mount Rwenzori.

I am a great advocate for Tembea Kenya but I also believe that whichever place you go and travel to, you will find new things and great experiences. So tembea everywhere, experience new cultures, climb mountains, jump from cliffs, swim in oceans, soak in springs and enjoy this world.

If you need a quiet place to get away from everything. I would recommend Tororo, the small relaxing and beautiful town. Thanks for reading!

View from the top

 

before and during the climb with Rocky

 

 

 

 

Growing up or growing old?

Have you ever gone back on your timeline on Facebook or Twitter? Back in the day when you first joined? You see all these crazy things that you used to do or say and the weird pics you used to take. You see your younger self for what she or he was then. Naive? In love? Insecure? Hyper? Happy? Sad?

A friend sent me a screen shot of a post he had sent me in 2010. I don’t remember what the post was about (this is where my core memory fails me) but from the look of it, it made someone/people laugh. That was years ago. I can remember all the expectations I had then. I was in my first year in collage and I had these huge dreams, educational and personal. That year I ventured out and did some crazy stuff, I got a tattoo, learned salsa and fell in love with freedom.

In the text my friend tells me that we are getting old. I think about it for a moment and I replied, ‘I kinda like growing old.’

I did not mean this in the wrinkles kind of way but in every other aspect. I love how I have grown from where I was. I have changed so much, grown my inner strength, my confidence and courage. I know what I want and when to let things go. I have goals and they don’t involve piercings, tattoos or winning a trip to see 30 Seconds to Mars in South Africa (although I still want to go to one of their concerts). I crave for love but not just the ‘crazy stupid’ kind but one so deep the ocean would be jealous.

The reply to my friend’s text should have been, ‘I kinda like growing up.’

He goes on to tell me how ‘growing up is a trap’ and I agree. It is. When we are teenagers, that’s all we want. To move out, explore the world, be free of the rules imposed on us because of our age and the four walls of our parents’ house. But all this comes with a price, it comes with decisions, harder exams, looking for jobs, knowing when to say yes or no and heart breaks not only from relationships but from life itself. The sad part is that no one can escape this and no one is born equipped for this.

Growing up does not necessarily mean growing old. We are given this Pandora’s Box when we take that step into adulthood, we open it and all the chaos comes out. We have to decide what to do when it does. We can either curl into a ball, hide, reminisce of the past when that box was just a pretty parcel with ribbons or we can learn how to get through it all and maybe living with the chaos wouldn’t be so bad. We are not the first ones and we won’t be the last.

What advice would I give my younger self? I would love to tell her to join AISEC and all those ‘prestigious’ clubs or what major to choose in collage, but I won’t. I would tell her to be patient, to learn that trait. It comes in handy in the future.

What advice would you give your younger self?

Lessons learned

A friend sent me a link to a blog a while ago. Procrastination being my thing, it took me a while to ‘get to it’. Last week I had a chance to finally sit down and go through the blog. It was a story by a woman and her relationships (not 30 days of tinder) and what she went through in all of them. Some of the things she was writing about sounded like something you would find in a plot for one of those Nigerian movies. I was definitely a bit shocked that all that could happen in someone’s life time.

We go through many things in relationships. Some people get the arguments, some get the real nasty stuff like abuse, infidelity, fake or cover ups and the worst part is when this happens in marriage. I read her story and all I could ask myself was why? Why did she not get out the first time? Why take him back? Why?

This is a question most people ask others or themselves. I am no exception, I have asked myself before, I have asked people I know personally and I even ask characters in movies. Why? Why go back when you know who/how your partner is? Why go back when you feel and know that nothing is going to change? Why stay there through all the abuse and infidelity? Why stay when you know there is no happiness?

People say it is love, maybe it is. Maybe we are too blind and the little flutters in our stomach makes us erase all the heartbreaks and every time a sorry is said, the old hard drive in our brains is formatted and a new one starts saving. But do we really forgive and forget?

The lesson I learned from this lady’s story was first, how she decided to be happy, she decided to stop thinking about what people (parents, those nosey aunts and church members) would think of her, she stopped being afraid and she got out. The second most courageous thing she did was get back on that horse. She trusted again, she loved again. I don’t know if she lives happily ever after now, but she healed and decided that she could do it again.

If there is one thing I envy is the human heart. The fact that it goes through so many hard times, it gets bruised and broken but still manages to glow with love like nothing ever happened to it. Sometimes for the same person who did harm to it and other times to new people.

No matter what your situation is in a relationship be it romantic, business or whatever form it might take, if it hurts you, if it drains your joy, there is always a choice and only you can make it. Doubts and fear will be at the back of your mind and that voice will be saying, ‘what if this is not the right choice?’, ‘what if they change?’, ‘what if I can’t get a better job?’, ‘what if no one else loves me as they do?’. But what if this is the only way to save yourself. Think about it.

You can read the lady’s story here.

Thanks for reading 🙂

When is the last time you tried something for the first time?

‘When is the last time you did something for the first time?’, my old collage friend Evans asks me as we wait for our sundaes at Snow Cream Ice cream parlour at Koinange Street in Nairobi. I take a few seconds to think about it. ‘This’, I say looking at the delicious looking sundaes that have been placed in front of us.

‘Why?’ I asked.

‘No reason, just a thing I have been asking myself lately’, he says.

Mmmmh..that put me in deep thought. I tried to think of the other times that week I had tried something for the first time and nothing popped into my mind. How many times do we try something for the first time? Most of the time we are so comfortable in our own bubble that we don’t try new stuff. We don’t venture into unknown territories because we are afraid of the outcome or we just really love our comfort zones.

On that day I realized I tried many things for the first time, first was going to Snow cream, I had never been there before and it is truly amazing. The whole old-school vibe is my thing. Although I am a die hard fun of Cold Stone Creamery, I might must just spread this taste bud love to both of them. The second thing was the Ice cream, the Bermuda Sundae, the third was entering K.I.C.C. I have lived in Nairobi all my life and I have never entered one of the most historic buildings in the country. So I did this on that day.

Bermuda Sundae

My experience that day cannot compare to what all of us can do if we ask ourselves this question more often. It challenges us to go out and do something new. Life can be stale, boring, black and white and all that can be a little depressing. So ask yourself this question daily and if not at least per week and go out there and try something new or different. Life might not be going the way we planned but we can change tiny situations to make us feel like we moving forward. Be it a new restaurant, cuisine, a new activity, your appearance, paint on your wall or just your playlist. Trust me you will feel way better.

So when was the last time you tried something for the first time?

An experience like no other.

As you all know I have been taking driving lessons. For every lessons taken, there has to be exams. Mine was on the 15^th February 2016. I woke up at 6, I was nervous since I had not studied the previous day having decided to go to a birthday party for my friend’s son who had turned one. I had it all planned from when I was to go, how long I was to stay and when I was to make an excuse to slip out early and go home to prepare for my exam. It was a kid’s party, how hard could it be?

I was wrong. It was a kids party with only three children including the birthday boy and the main culprit of the day was WINE, for some reason my glass was always full and as you have probably guessed, it did not go as planned. So there I was, at 6 in the morning, with a head splitting headache, trying to memorize signs and notes.

An hour later I was in school, on the lorry and going to the designated police station and exam centre. I could tell by the faces in the lorry how freaked out everybody was. We had all heard the stories of how these exams went, how the policemen were rude, how they slapped and pinched you if you did something wrong and I knew we could all give anything not to be on that driver’s seat today.

We got to the police station a while later and were informed to go to the waiting area at the back of the police building which anyone could have mistaken for a cowshed. It was made of mabati, an earth floor and low benches coated with dust. We all looked at each other, not daring to speak in case they heard us and failed us even before we had a chance to take the tests.

After what seemed like forever we were called to register and stood in line for the oral exam. It was in a small room near the ‘cowshed’ where we could hear sounds of what sounded like a soap opera playing from the next room. Here, it was you and the police officer. If anyone was unable to answer a question, a line of insults would follow and would be asked to stand aside while the other person in line was asked the failed question. If you passed you were asked to go wait in the lorry for the practical, if not…well you were asked to go home.

“What are the rules of the model town board?” he asked me when it was my turn.

“Use the shortest and most correct route…”

“harakisha hatuna siku mzima hapa. What is this sign?” he asked pointing at a sign, I answered and he went to another. Then he told me the magic words, “enda ungojee kwa gari” and I almost ran out afraid he might change his mind.

For those with experience of taking these exams know how it goes, some pass without doing the exams (the people with Godfathers), others do the exams and fail but still pass because they know ‘someone’, others who fail but ‘pass’ because ‘walipeana kitu kidogo’ and there is the rest of us whom our fate lies solely on the police officer, the car and our skills.

The practical is the most intimidating part, this is where the insults increase, the slapping and pinching takes place and where you get that final pass or fail. Our trainer/teacher sat with us at the back of the lorry and he choose people according to how well he knew you drove the car. I was the third person.

“Breathe, remember the seat belt, then the clutch, then the gear, then the handbrake, release clutch slowly as you step on the gas pedal” I told myself. I did all that and the truck started to move, but it stopped a few seconds after I had done the whole procedure. I froze, I tried to restart the car but my mind and my hands were not in sync. I could see the mouth of the police officer moving but I couldn’t hear him.

“Huh?” was all I could say.

“Nasema ukizima gari umeanguka, shuka” he said.

He signalled for the other person to come and take my place. I tried to request him for another chance but all he kept saying was ‘shuka’ and I did just that. The rest of the practical was like a blur. I kept thinking what could have happened and where I went wrong, was the wine still in my system? Was it this old lorry with mechanical problems?

I was approached later by my teacher and he told me of my options, kinda like how doctors tell their patients their treatment options. I could either redo my exam the following Monday or do something unethical and ‘toa kitu kidogo’ to soften their hearts. I weighed the options and decided to redo the exams.

The following Monday I was there again, in the ‘cowshed’. But this day went differently, I finally passed. I figured this is just the beginning of my experiences with traffic police.

 

Read to me…

You know that feeling you get when you are walking down a street and you look into a store window and you see the perfect pair of boots, the right length, with the perfect comfortable heel, the right colour, brown maybe? They would look good with anything and everything, even by themselves. You enter into the store and walk straight to the display. The boots are perfect. Then you look outside to the street you just left and right across you see another fascination, another creation. One that would look good everywhere, literally and suddenly you walk out, drawn to this creation. You imagine how good you will feel when you ran your fingers on it, how it smells, how good it will look in your room, in your house, in your bag, on your arms. You look on the store window and you are spoilt for choice. You want them all! And this store wins.

This is what happens every time I pass by a street with a book store. This is what books do to me.

How did my love of books start? I would love to give all the credit to the ladybird books, the small ones with hard covers and ladybirds on top. But no, ladybird books did not pull me into this world, but a guy did. There is always that guy behind a story.

His name was Patrick Njenga. We had been in the same primary school for eight years, different classes. I remember seeing him from time to time, we never spoke, but he was spoken of. He was one of the smartest kids. The ones whose compositions were read as samples, the one who got awards for getting a 98% on a maths or science test. I knew him as the smart kid.

We were shuffled on our last year in primary and we found ourselves in the same class. I don’t know how we became friends, maybe we were desk mates at some point but the memory I have of our friendship starts with a book. He was the silent type, the loner and I was the shy, chubby girl. I guess there are ways in which lonely souls find one another because we did. Our relationship was never romantic, but we shared much more, we shared the love of stories, of printed pages, of journeys and destinations in our minds.

He was the source of all the books I ever read then. I don’t know where he got them from but every time we finished one, he would come with another. We were both heads of revision classes, he for Science and I for Swahili and it was at these times that we read the books. For these classes, there was a head and an assistant, so per subject there were two people. They were our favourite lessons, we always sat at the back of the class ‘supervising’ as the other leader took charge. We only had a book at a time so we shared, holding one page over the other, him always a few pages ahead.

To cut the story short, he was my dealer and I was a junkie. I held out my arm and he injected me with a drug so powerful that I never recovered. Am still a junkie, a proud one.

I have since evolved in my reading in many ways, I enjoy different genres and became a collector. I enjoy the thrill of getting a new book be it used or from a store. I love the smell of the paper, the creativity in it, the way I get transported to a different world and how they make me laugh or cry (yes, I cry when I read). I still remember what pulled me in, those Goosebumps series by R.L. Stine, The Sweet Valleys by Francine Pascal and the Harry Potters by J.K Rowling. It all started with the ladybird books and the smartest kid in my class.

Hi, am Sylvia and am a book-a-holic.