Of Books And Life

I am not an educationist and I really don't know whether our education system really delivers. But I loved school. I loved school especially because it exposed me to all kind of people. And learning about people is one major life lesson. This is because people are the main component of life.

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My mother while commenting on books would say, "people are books; letters from God. You can learn a lot from people". And true to her words, people are a vast reservoir of resources and wealth. No wonder I love observing people. I love watching people. Tracking their lives. And, I do learn a lot. 

School exposed me to all kinds of people. Little flowers budding. No one really knew what life had in store for any of us. And every time I observe how life unfolds for different people, it gives me perspective. It really hits me hard when you receive the bad news that so and so is no more. Why does it always happen that those that I never imagined dead, die? Or you meet the guy who tied the knot on the number line every end term and he challenges you to the core. Life truly is unpredictable. And when the unknown becomes know in hindsight, it humbles me. Who would have known?

I have tried to reconnect with most of the people we shared something while growing up, some were my classmates, others were village mates, others were work mates while others were church mates. All kind of people. And it amazes me that I can actually pick out something valuable I learnt from them. One day I write out my lessons from different people and I am so sure many of them will not believe. I have learnt so much from people. Lessons they may never be aware they passed to me and that have stuck with me.

Last week I was thinking about this girl I schooled with in primary school. She was so academically challenged the school administration would push her to the next class just to have her clear school now that her age mates were way ahead of her. I caught up with her in class seven and she was pushed to class eight. This girl had never really passed any test in her entire life. It was such a surprise when for once she beat us all by passing the pregnancy test and graduated to the highest education, motherhood. I wonder how life eventually turned out for her. 

And as I keep reading books, interacting with people and learning from them, I have come to understand that true success is not in getting ahead of others. True success is in getting ahead of yourself.

If I Die Young

Things happen and people die. People die and we are left saying they died before their time. I believe people die in their time and not on our time. And it is never our time because we take people for granted. And when their time is over, we are left agonizing and wishing we had just another minute with them.


This life is not mine but just a whisper from God. And so everyday I share my thoughts through my writings, I cherish my friends, I love my wife and I focus on honoring God because I only have today. I do my best and enjoy my life because today is my present. I live in gratitude for I know I am on time and if times runs out, I have an eternal hope in Christ.


And if I die young, I wonder what would be of my thoughts, what would it be of the idea of me. Maybe I would be worth so much more after I'm dead. And maybe people would hear the words I have been saying. People would start knowing me. People would start reading my work. People  would love me more than they did when I was alive. And people would create a page on facebook in my honor, and they would say all the nice things about me. And then life would go on.


But I want you to listen now, I want you to know me now, for if I die young, it will be on time.

Why Is It This Hard?

You know the story of the young rich man who came to Jesus seeking to know how to get into the Kingdom? This guy was doing everything we consider godly yet he had not secured a place in the Kingdom of God. And when he asked Jesus what he needs to do to get in he was told to go sell everything, give it out to the poor and come follow Jesus. He went home very sad.

Why is it this hard to follow Jesus? to get into the kingdom of God? SELF.

Human beings have this force within us that seeks to preserve ourselves. We seek comfort, security and freedom. That is why we would want to be sure we are safe for tomorrow, we would love to take care of ourselves and we would want to do what we feel like and be good with it. Most a time these things are tied around SELF.

On the other hand, God is looking for people who can trust Him and have faith in Him to provide comfort, security and freedom. But His way of providing this requires death to self. Death to self means we lose our own ability to provide for ourselves comfort, security and freedom and give that ability to a being we have not seen but whom we connect through faith. TOUGH.

Look at Paul, he says he considers everything rubbish having known Christ. He was a learned man, a great achiever and a track history of greatness. Yet he says that is all rubbish because he has known Christ. I would wish to occupy that position but you have to agree with me it is not easy. 

Back to the rich young man, why do you think he went home sad? He was not ready to lose his comfort, his security and his freedom. And although he did all the religious acts thoroughly and consistently, he did not come to a place of accessing the Kingdom of God because he sought to preserve self. When we look at Zacchaeus, he let go of everything and accessed the Kingdom.  This rich young man didn't have the correct sight of Christ. I mean, it was possible even after selling and giving away everything, to actually have it all restored and given more. But self blinded him.

I am convinced that the way to access Christ and His kingdom is to surrender everything to Him and to be safe in His words and His demands. And once we occupy this position we are able to achieve comfort, security and freedom. Having no trace of self in us.

It’s for God to Judge

Why would God put a commandment and declared that you should not covet after your neighbors’ wife? You can never understand that until you get married! When I was thinking about that (triggered by someone’s comment how I have the best wife, which I do and I thank God), I realized most of the time we look outwardly and not inwardly to gauge how well we are doing.

When I was a kid, I remember cooking stories about my parents especially my dad so that we don’t look like we are down. And we would go further to bragging among other kids when we have cooked chapos and kuku or something like that. And kids would take turns proving how good they are beyond the rest.

I remember when I was in class three after the Easter holidays, I came bragging to my desk mate the way our dad took us to the Aberdares country lodge and the fun we had. Then he narrated to me how they went visiting their uncle in Gilgil and how they went through a roundabout. The funny part of this story is I felt so defeated because I hadn’t been to Gilgil and I didn’t know what a roundabout was and my simple mind imagined going through a roundabout must be a greater experience beyond the visit we had.

Last month I had a chance to pass through Gilgil on my way to Nakuru and didn’t I laugh at myself when I remembered that story, there is no roundabout in Gilgil!

Human beings have a tendency to compare with their peers, thus the word peer pressure. We have developed a competitive spirit and we actually evaluate how well someone is doing based on how other people are doing. That is why it is generally acceptable among some people to fake till they make it. But I have been thinking how erroneous and empty such a thing is.

That is nothing compared to what people say about those who die, especially if such people are not religious or have conspicuous character flaws. In low tones and in whispers, you will hear some declaring how they are rotting in hell and such, and then the funeral is just a PR exercise. But does it matter? I mean they are already dead.

I have been thinking about it and I must say it’s something I want to get out of. Our lives are not for comparison, because we have different gifts, different stories and different reasons why God placed us on earth. And as much as we would want everyone to adhere to our own code of values, we must be ready to accept that we could be wrong.

I like what Paul says when he say, I consider everything else rubbish to the knowing of Christ. And that is the place I would like to get to. And in that place, you only wish the best for other people, not thinking highly or lowly of yourself but just living your life to please God.

Why do people talk bad about Judas the Iscariot? Have you ever considered that part of his purpose on earth was to betray Jesus so that he can actually be crucified for you and me to access salvation? And if that was his purpose, why wouldn’t God accept him in his Kingdom for doing his purpose? Just a thought

I am so sure at the cross very few people knew that the thief on the right hand of Christ spent his evening in paradise. Maybe the person he stole from prided in the justice he got through crucifixion and she would narrate how in hell he was rotting…. How erroneous.

The thing is, it doesn’t matter what we think about you as human beings, what matters is what God thinks about you. And so we should focus on pleasing God and not men, and stop judging other people because we don’t know what God is up to with their lives. And most of all, that we may accept who we are and grateful for what God has blessed us with.

What Do You See?

If there is one thing I have learnt is to create myself. Life is not about discovering yourself, life is about creating yourself. Who are you? and who do you want to be? We have been defined by many things, which is ok, but let me assure you, you won’t fit in most of these definitions. And since almost everyone is trying to fit us into one universal standard, the reality is, we can never be the same. Our sameness is that we are all unique. That is why it is important to create yourself, uniquely.

What do you see when you look at yourself in the mirror? The funny thing is we can never run away from who we are. We are kind stuck with ourselves. But there is hope, they say the biggest room in the world is the room for improvement. So do something. Don’t just accept a life sentence from an unqualified judge. Protest, go on riot and demand haki yako. Start doing something about the person you want to be.

Lets flash forward your life to an hour before your death. What do you would want to be FEEL? That is assuming you will know you have an hour to go.

Last Saturday, someone challenged me to write my eulogy. And I took up her challenge and started writing it. And honestly, I would that in case I lost my breath, or I walk with God and be no more like Enoch, what I have written down won’t be edited, but rather, new stories to fill in what I would have missed will be said. Of people whose life were reformed and of lives that my light shone unto, of warmth that I brought and of love that I gave.

And I want to challenge you also. Write down your own eulogy. Write it the way you want it to be, the way your story should and will be. And then start living your story. Start creating the character in your story, the starring in this great movie. And always remember, the starring in the movies never dies, most often than not s/he has to overcome a challenge to get what he wants.

So, regardless of who you see every day you look in the mirror, challenge the main character to do something to make the story of your life flow. It is never too late to start all over. Remember the past cannot be edited, but you can choose to write a different story from now henceforth. Start creating the person you want to become and let your eulogy come to life.

Now that you are dead

Every family has something they are known for. Good or bad. It’s the thing that distinguishes one from another. For some it’s the ability to thrive in business while for other it’s in wrecking their spouses. For some it’s the ability to educate their kids while for others it’s their first nature to drop out of school.

For this particular family they are known for their hair. It’s dark, long, thick and shiny. It’s evident in all the sisters and wavy on the two brothers. Their color complexion is dark and smooth. No wonder I had a crush on the elder sister. Actually I don’t know what happened. I’ll just say we grew up. If I had a chance I would exchange my hair for theirs. Not that I don’t like my hair, but in my family we are not known for our hair.

Hair is not everything. You need a head, a smart one for that matter. Being fortunate is having a smart haired head. This is what attracted me to this boy. Young, playful and collected was Macharia. I have known him from his childhood. And all his life I always meet him at the roadside looking after the sheep. He would wave at me and sometimes smile. That was all we shared.

I have had a deep liking for this boy. First as I said his hair was wavy. Second it’s because he seemed responsible, bright and joyful. And as much as I didn’t have a personal relationship with this boy, I feel like I have known him all along. I have seen him grow up into a handsome young man, and one thing he was known for is tending his mother’s sheep on the roadside.

But Macharia had to leave us too soon. Only fourteen years old. And for some reasons I can’t get him out of my mind. I think he is the first person who even without having a personal relationship whatsoever I have mourned this hard. I wish I made friends with him. I wish he knew me personally. I wish I had personal memories or even memorabilia out of him. But now he is gone.

I couldn’t even attend his burial. It would have been awkward traveling from far to bury a kid. Someone am not even related to, someone who is not family. And for your information, one thing am known for is for not going for burials.

On an afternoon two weeks ago, Macharia and his small brother were riding a bike down hill towards the only dam in the village. That was to be his last ride. I don’t know the details of the ride but they fell and he never spoke since. Just to die five days after the incident.

On my teenage life I had rode on the same downhill severally enjoying the scenery and the feeling. Most a time against my mother’s instructions, however, she always had a way of getting to know how I was riding my bicycle. And I always got my beatings. If there is one thing my mum is known for, it’s how she raised us.

But now I don’t understand this pain. Why is my heart tormented? Why can’t I stop thinking about Macharia’s death? I know in my heart that when young people die I hurt, but I think when a smart haired boy dies, it hurts too much.

Macharia, now that you are dead, life will go on. But it will not be as usual for me. Because I know I have lost a friend in the making. I will miss you so much. I wish I knew you well.

News…. Facts, information and statistics.

When old people die, I celebrate. When young people die, I mourn. I think about all they would have become and I get into tears. Unfortunately most time you hear someone is dead, you feel sorry for them and continue living your life. They say life must go on. That is the saddest thing. Life must continue.

Last Saturday in the evening, I sat with my mother in the kitchen as we waited supper to get ready. Then the radio news presenter announced about a tragedy that had happened early that evening killing a hundred people. The news was just news. Mere facts, information and statistics. My heart was not moved by the news. I remember commenting and say the way people should be taught a lesson not to touch other peoples’ things.

At that instant my mum was just praying for the families and friends of the deceased. She went ahead telling me how someone will not see their husband again. That someone will not see their wife again. She was sad. She was feeling the news. She heard them beyond just being information.

Later the next day I was going back to the big city. I decided to choose the matatu I want to go with, something I learnt from my dad. He told me to be checking the state of the tyres and the condition of the seats. And on realizing the matatu on line did not qualify to carry me, I ducked out of the queue and went my way looking for another matatu.

Later that night as I listened to the evening news, I was in tears. The radio presenter read out the news about a matatu that had a head on collision with a small car on Nyeri-Nairobi highway killing two people on spot and seriously injuring others. At that time those were not news, they were a reality I had seen with my own eyes.

After getting another matatu to the city we left peacefully until after Sagana when we found the matatu I had refused to enter had had an accident killing two people on the spot as others were ferried to hospital. The two dead men lay lifeless on the roadside. Passengers on other matatus were looking all this in horror.

As usual the evening news must have been facts, information and statistics to most listeners all over the country. But that evening I did not just hear the news, I felt them. I just knew someone would not see their dad again, coz I had seen him lying lifelessly on the roadside.

That weekend my attitude was transformed. My perspective had expanded.