Make My Day

You know those days when something special happens in your day and you go... this just made my day. Sometimes it’s just an act of kindness, a funny joke or a gesture of humanness.

Life can be so ordinary that we find ourselves going through the motions.

As the year starts, I was asking myself what do I do that everyday I will have that moment of .. this or that made my day.What do I do?

Then I remember the verse that say, This is the day that the Lord has MADE, I will rejoice and be glad in it. This means that, my day is already made J

At the end of it all the lesson is to look at the ordinary with a special eye.

I would have loved this note to make your day, but I am glad that the Lord has made a day for you. REJOICE

For How Long?

For how long will I look at the Mirror

And see I am still the guy I dont want to be?

Like a broken glass, pieces scattered

Can I really be fixed?

For how long will I speak these awesome words

Words that  don’t match my lifestyle?

Like an ever talking radio,

Can I really become?

For how long will I keep falling and rising,

Getting dirty while still in the shower?

It feels like a just washed silly pet

Can I really get clean, for once?

For how long shall I wander

Never getting to my destination?

Like a vagabond roaming all over

Can I really arrive?

For how long shall I remain scattered

Weak and weary and never gathering?

Like a cup of spilled milk

Can i ever be collected?

I am tired of this life

I am tired of this song

I am tired of this me

I am tired of it all

I have to become,

I have to gather

I have to be fixed

I have to get it

Once and for all

I have to confluence

All They Know is Baby Jesus

Amazing how the world celebrates baby Jesus. The songs, the decor, the displays and the stories. It is all about the baby born at the manger. The magical story. The amazing couple, The sherperds and the wo la la.

The sad thing is we don’t know how to relate with a grown up Jesus. I mean, this baby Jesus grows to be commanding. He beats the crap out of guys in the temple, He even tell His mother how she doesn’t understand. He tell of those burying the dead, that only the dead should bury the dead. He calls his best friend satan. His friend is sick and goes to visit 3 days after he is dead. And when he is there, he doesn’t appreciate Martha’s effort of getting him something to eat. He commends Mary for sitting herself at his feet. This dude teaches his pals not to wash hands before eating. He talks in parables so that people may not understand. He talks harshly to the religious lot. He actualy calls them a brood of vipers. And when a multitude is waiting for him at the shore, He runs away from them and goes somewhere else. He goes to a pool with hundreds of sick people and heals only one and walks away. The guy tells his disciples to eat his body. I mean, this guy is something else!

Yeah the world likes Baby Jesus. He is easy to handle. We can sing to him, take gifts to him and all. But Jesus the adult.... He is a King we can’t easily please unless we deny ourselves and carry our cross everyday. He is so demanding that He gives us a narrow gate to his Kingdom. He wants you to be born again when you are already an adult. He want you to do only that which you see him do and all that He asks we do. Jesus the adult, He is just something the world can’t handle. 

Hurray! It is Christmas. But which Jesus are you embracing? Is it Baby Jesus or is Jesus the King of Kings? It’s you to decide.....

The Christmas I Miss

Kenyans do not have a holiday dedicated to families. What I would call a Family Get- together Day. When I become the president's advisor, I will make sure we get this holiday. A day dedicated to families. A holiday set aside (preferably a long weekend) for us to reconnect with those we love,


The lack of a family get together day has over the year made christmas the thing we all look forward to. It's in christmas you get to meet those guys you schooled with in primary school, the boys you went dufo mpararo with and such. Christmas has always been the day uncle and aunts and the cousins come home and enjoy some nyama with the grandparents. Christmas has always been our get together holiday.


Now look at what is happening. Some of us will be working on christmas, we have to take advantage of people when they are in the mood for shopping. Some of us do not have enough money for upkeep leave alone travelling and merrying.


But lucky are those who will manage to make that trip to the countryside and refresh their souls. Those who will find time to gather around their families and reconnect. Those who will take time to share with the less fortunate. Those who will not be caught up in the jargons of christmas and capture the spirit of the season.


Ooh how I miss the Kenyan christmas..

Am I that Ugly?

When I was in primary school I would feel so harassed if we met up with a classmate on weekends especially when I am with my parents. I would not even say hi to them openly; worse still if the classmate is a girl and my dad is teasing me if that is my girl. He loved doing that J and I would dread such moments.

There was this one day when I was in class one and we had parents’ day in our school. Since there was no one at home my mum decided to bring the keys to the house to me so that during lunch time I don’t get stranded, but rather I would go home and find food and sort myself.

It’s break time and as usual I am hanging out with my usual suspects in the field playing, then I see my mum approaching us. She is smartly dressed in a blue chiffon dress that had some black dots. She was looking homely yet elegant. For reasons not known to me, instead of running towards her I started running away from her. You know the kind of run you would do if you sighted a ghost? Such kind. Now the kids are running after me shouting and my mum is behind us walking.

The genius in me told me to run to our class and sit at my desk. Furiously my mum came into the class and starting pinching me shouting… “am I that ugly that you don’t want your friends to see me… why are you running away from me like I bite? Am I that ugly?” You should have seen my classmates peeping through the window and laughing at me.

Years later as we were discussing with my mum of this incident I got to understand where she was coming from and the depth of my foolishness. No parent wants to imagine that they are not good enough for their children. They do their best to make sure those little boys and girls they are raising have the best and have their needs covered. And what do they expect in return, I guess it’s just honor.

You can’t payback for what your parents did for you. All you can do is honor them and appreciate them for their efforts. But many a times just like the foolish me back then, we humiliate them with our actions. If only I knew better then.

His Own

The other day I was in the village and someone was screaming during the day. That is the only alarm system available for the village folks. The best thing about these people is their willingness to indulge in such occasions. They all come to either help or just watch depending on the happening. The watching part is the favorite for most.

When I was growing up, I was not spared. Our homestead was a shoot location for a drama series. It’s not once or twice we had villagers coming to spectate as we washed our dirty linen outside our yard. I think I only survived the shame because most of it happened at night and also the following episodes would be shot at a neighbor before it gets back to ours. The funny part is how people behave the next day as if nothing happened. Unless your face still carries the evidence.

There is this one night my folks were fighting and my brother and I were really pissed. Occasionally, I would avoid taking sides because I had discovered I needed both my parents the same way. But this night, I needed to say something. I am actually not the one who started; I am more of a coward, my bro did.

He ferociously tried to tell off our dad, mumbling a few words as his 5 year old mind would allow. Then when he ran out of what to say, the moment fell awkwardly silent. I raised my voice, still hiding among the spectators and yelled at our dad; “hey, just allow me into the house I pick up my stuff I go. I don’t belong here”.

And in that awkwardness our dad answered back laughing, “If you want to leave, go ahead, but first come here and remove the cloths you are wearing, everything you have here is mine”. And the crowd laughed at me hilariously. I was 6 yrs old and I had never felt that helplessly cornered and owned. Clearly there was no way I could detach myself from the circus.

That statement has never left me, more so when I think about our father in heaven. He owns us and everything we have. Yet many a times we want to excuse ourselves from his affairs, especially when we feel inconvenienced and disadvantaged. And unlike our earthly dads, his ownership is bound with such a deep amazing love that we can’t comprehend. Even when things are ugly, when things are tough, when things are not making much sense, he is just but crafting something beautiful out of us.

The call of God on your life may be taxing you. Loving your neighbor may seem an impossible task. Being a peacemaker may not be a thought in your mind. And yet that is your call; to uphold the values of God and to walk in his principles. And I know how now or then we get the feeling that we should back off and give up on God, that we don’t belong.

Or maybe the show is on your yard. Neighbors spectating your struggles and enjoying the drama in your life. But it’s not for you to respond in bitterness, depression, shame or by running away. No. Just know that you belong to him. Everything you are and everything you have is his. And so you have nowhere to go. Stick through the process.

The Hiding People

One thing I miss about my childhood is the playing part. When I think about it now, I see how creative we would get and how sometimes a game would turn out to be frustrating, especially when you can’t agree on the rules or when other kids outdo your creativity.

 When we were younger we would play hide and seek with my brother and at times it would be boring when we ran out of hiding places. But I remember the first time my brother hid in the cupboard and I could not find him. How did he think of replacing the sack of flour with himself?  The competitive me was very frustrated. How can my younger brother outdo me in hiding? Then the day our friend hid by climb a tree just above where we were counting, and I could not find him yet all the other children could see him. I opted out of the game when finally I announce the imaginary cup ‘trophy’ was his. Ooh, and the days we would start a new game within a old one just to eliminate some kids we don’t like.

Now when I think about life, there seems to be a continuation of the hide and seek game. Listen to teenagers and their folks hiding from each other on Fb, or the tout and the dere checking out for the cops, or guy who is on the phone in town checking out kanju. It’s hide and seek all over. Have you noticed how Kenyans are always way ahead of themselves? Just listen to them on the phone while in the bus. Niko Valley Road and at that time you haven’t reached yaya yet on your way to town. Anyho that the hide and seek game I am talking about. Have you listen to or watched programs like busted or cheaters? It’s just a partner seeking their hiding partner… the game continues.

Then we have those who hide in God. They are known so well because of their consistency in bible study and prayer meetings. They preach, lead worship and they are baptized. And we can’t touch them because they are in God. But wait until you find them, they are just the same old sinner; having no sense of fear of God, but just using God as a cover to do all that they are doing. What happened to being real? I know we are not perfect but don’t project what you are not, just be yourself. A time comes when we run out places to hide, or we get caught, and everything comes shattering down.

There is something I love about real people; the kind who just live their life honestly, with integrity and in truth. From experience, the truth can cause trouble, cause terror, humiliate, hurts or even weigh heavy on you but the truth is, it sets free. When we learn to live an open life, with no hiding, no closet, no skeleton, then we live full lives. But the big question is, where and how do you start? It’s like asking a lady who is used to wearing make up to start living without some.

An open truthful life can be hard to start living, but once you find your rhyme and sync, then you realize it was not as hard as it seemed.

Maintaining The Evens

I know you have heard about beating all odds, but today I want to talk about maintaining all evens. I have always wondered whether for a story to be a success story there must be odds to beat. I don’t get it.

Look at most of the people we know who are successful. It’s either they were abused, molested, abandoned, rejected, rebellious, divorced among other odds. It’s like a plot to a great story needs to be complicated. And it is these complications that form the odds that need to be beaten for a happy successful ending.

What happens to those who keep it even? Why is it that if a woman is successful and yet she maintained her family all through, she won’t be a great story like one who is equally successful but who could not maintain her marriage. Or why is it a pastor’s child who turns out perfect will not find any recognition like one who turns pathetic?

We live our lives not for recognition but that we may add value to the society. And therefore, we must not be lied to that successful people have very complicated lives. That is just a lie. We are a generation that does not celebrate simplicity, ordinary and normalcy. But there is much beauty in such a life. And there are successful people who have maintained the evens. It’s just that they may not be as recognized as those who beat the odds.

As a friend of mine once tweeted; try faithfulness cheating is too easy, I too would want to challenge us try maintaining the evens beyond beating the odds.

Maintaining the evens is equally challenging as beating the odds.

Would you Apply?

The most unfortunate thing about life is that we find ourselves in it. In a place we didn't ask to be, with some aspects of our lives that we may not have the capacity to change. We just find ourselves in here.


Assume we got back in time, with what you know now, would you apply to be born given a chance? Would you choose your gender? Would you choose your father? Would you choose you mother? Would you choose the place you were born?


For a long time I used to say, if I were given a chance to apply to be born on earth, I would have requested for a pass. No second thinking. I would not have chosen to be born. Period.


The fortunate thing is, I didn't have a chance to chose. But instead God chose me. He chose my gender, he chose my father, he chose my mother and he chose the place I would be born.
And now that I know that, I am at peace with life. I don't look at any aspect of my life as an accident or as an unfortunate thing, but as a design from God. The processes I went through were not hapharzard, but a crafting of God, moulding my path into who I am. Isn't that wonderful?


And now that I am empowered to make choices of the life I want to live, I have learnt to enquire from my manuacturer, because from the look of things, He is better positioned to know what I need and where I should go and what I should do than I can ever think.


Truly you don't know yourself until God tell you who you are. And that is all you need. God.

The Broken Vessel

God is looking for a broken people to use. A broken heart and a contrite spirit He won’t despise. Unfortunately we have become broken vessels.

What’s the difference you ask?

A broken vessel is the kind that leaks, the kind that cannot contain. And so when God deposits His treasure in such a vessel, within no time everything is lost. Such kind of a vessel will only waste great resources achieving nothing for God.

We need to be vessels of honor for God. Vessels that are able to hold the treasures released from God. These treasures include His word, His values, His Grace and His blessings. But never should we get familiar with God. We ought to appreciate the fact that we are only vessels and so we must always have a broken heart.

Let us be vessels of honor with a broken heart and not a broken vessel with a golden heart.