When God waves

 

Last week I went for my 20 week ultrasound. I call it, "The big ultrasound." Days and weeks leading up to this appointment I was a wreck. A wreck because you see just two years ago - this was the ultrasound that revealed to my husband and I that our little girl would not make it to term. She made it to 24 weeks and rested in the arms of Jesus. You see our precious one developed a rare genetic abnormality right in the midst of the pandemic. I wrote about our journey here. 

I walked into the appointment and was so glad to be met by a friendly ultrasound tech. She could immediately see the fear in my eyes and asked, "Everything okay?" I muttered under my breath, "Sure, all is well." We spoke about a wide range of things - from her children to me changing my major in college 4 times to food in Kenya. All the while I kept glancing at the screen but not wanting to ask too much. Under batted breath I gently asked, "Am I able to hear the heartbeat?" She immediately turned the volume on and there it was - the glorious sounds of a beating heart in-utero. She then went on to show me the legs, the lungs and then right at that moment the baby moved their arm right to their mouth and then back again which I am sure was a mini wave. I smiled. I knew this was God's way of reminding me that He is a restorer. He had breathed life into my lungs again even after experiencing pregnancy loss.

Rest in His promises for your life that are Yes and amen. He does not sleep nor slumber on those He loves. He will restore what the enemy has taken. 

xoxox 

Penny 

The Dishes will still be there, mama

 

Today after school my beautiful 6 year old boy kept walking up and down the kitchen where he would peep and ask, "Are you almost done mummy?" "Are you able to play with me basketball?" "Ten more minutes." I replied.  This became another ten more minutes when it was at that point I heard him downstairs bouncing the ball and shooting hoops alone. I stopped. I looked up from the dishes. I looked around at the dinner sizzling. Dried my hands and walked downstairs. "You ready to get beat?" His beautiful eyes lit up in between his missing front-teeth smile. "Lets gooo" he shouted. It was then that I knew the dishes will still be there. 

The dishes will still be there when our precious babes will have long left the nest. 

The dishes will still be there when all we have left is memories of mismatched socks lining the hall, incessant calls of, "look at this trick," or "can I help?"

The dishes will still be there the night we return from dinner out celebrating their high school and university graduations. 

The dishes will still be there when all I have to wash are the dishes my husband and I have used for dinner 

So dust if you must mama, but these precious moments?  will be gone even faster than the dishes will dry. 

Sending you love and warmth even amidst the chaos, the mess and the long days of these early years. 

xoxox Penny

Why I have started serving my family using the fine china

 

Many homes growing up had a cabinet full of dishes, utensils and all paraphernalia of "fine china." In our home we called it the "wall unit." Most of the items in the wall unit were reserved for when guests were coming etc - basically a big deal type of meal. I have however over the past couple of weeks decided I will not wait. I will not wait for "the guests" to show up. I will not wait for the special holiday to whip out the fine china. I will not wait for the china to gather dust in the cabinet and the glasses to sit pretty in the shelf. I will not wait to enjoy filling up the glass pitcher with ice cold water. I will not wait another day to enjoy the fine china. No I will not wait. Are the precious souls in front of us not more worthy than the visitors we are expecting? Time is fleeting, life is too short to wait for Thanksgiving to use the plates. Often times we wait for permission to live our lives out loud. To love our people hard. To go deep to try new things. So accept this as your permission slip to not wait any longer. Life is for the living. 

 

Home - Based education : "The Underground Railroad" that kids desperately need

 I just finished reading Instead of Education -  a book by author John Holt. He is a person who many have called the "Father of the homeschool / unschool movement."  Mind blown cannot even begin to describe what I am experiencing right now. You see for a while I have been toying with the idea of offering our kids a home-based education. Well actually since before we had kids I remember saying loudly once to a friend, "I think I want to homeschool when I get children." Over the years of course, life has a way of talking you out of your dreams but through the last year or so this desire begun knocking and it is now pounding down my door. I told hubby - let us give public school one year and see how things go. Our son joined first grade and our daughter kindergarten. So we said sure lets see what a year feels like and we can re-visit in a year. Well the verdict is in. Within weeks of school starting this past Fall I already begun to feel pressured every morning. On multiple occasions I remember telling my husband, "I cannot do this." The unfinished breakfast, the rush rush out the door in the dark and cold of a Canadian Winter wearing oversized snow suits that caused tears to be put on etc. More clarity came this past Christmas holiday season - the past two weeks we had with the kids at home - just taking naps, relaxing slowing things down - meeting them where they are. We have seen the spark return to their eyes again. They are excited about life, there has been less tears in the morning to wolf down breakfast, less sibling squabbles, less bed wetting, less tears at bedtime. It has just been a time when our children have returned back to us. 

The model of the school system is antiquated. To say that schools are preparing our kids for a world that no longer exists is barely even scratching the surface. As parents, teachers and educators, unless we can take a long hard look in the mirror and answer the question, "What is school for?" we will continue to send our children to "learning institutions" that are producing more compliant-easy to regurgitate back information-factory workers to be employed in factories that have long since shut down. Teachers are leaving the profession in droves, school refusals are sky-rocketing; when will someone shout "Mayday May-day we hit an ice-berg a few hours ago - we are going down!" The most popular question in college I remember was, "will this be in the exam?" (in short if it is not, I am not going to waste my time looking at it.) Is this really producing a love for learning? 

 Enter home-based education. In his seminal work, Instead of Education, John Holt says " what most children need is an escape." He likened it to the Underground railroad that ensured the escape of slaves from their captors. The school system is not going to change in probably the next even 20 - 30 years. Where we can at least start,  is a generation of parents calling out the public school school system for what it really is - The Emperor who had no clothes - Nothing to see. Offering alternatives to regular school will have to be the way forward. There are many ills that the pandemic brought but one thing it opened our eyes was parents were able to shine a light on schoolwork and really wonder - what is going on here? Is this how you learn to read? Is this how you do your math? are you even understanding this or just regurgitating information? 

I can go on and on but I would urge you to pick up the book by John Holt - Instead of education. I am yet to get his previous book - How children Fail. I am still collecting my data points and I am guaranteed by the end of this "school year" I will have extrapolated something. But so far the image does not look pretty. 

Until next time. 

xoxox 

Penny 

Of lightboxes, sunshine, home and mental wellbeing

 I got a lightbox for Christmas. I purposefully requested my hubby to get me lightbox. I had never heard of them until I started working at the mental health agency I work. Their alias is "therapy light box." I am a lover if sunshine. Any picture my daughter (4) draws has a sun on it. She always says, "mummy I added the sun for you." In that same breath I am someone who oscillates between mild anxiety and mild low mood. I am someone who feel things deeply. I feel ALL my emotions deeply and can articulate what my body is saying / feeling at any given time. I grew up in a home where all feelings were welcome. Tears were never pushed to the side, tantrums were never wished away - and in that same token happiness and joy was deeply felt. All emotions were welcome and my parents gave us a sense that no emotion is bad - you just needed to embrace it and let it wash over you.  Enter winter in Canada. We moved to Canada about four years ago. Two of those we spent winter in Kenya as a family and one of them we were in the thick of the pandemic. Enter this winter. All I can say so far - and it is January 2nd - winter in Canada is not for the faint hearted. I also can say winter in Canada is not for those like me whose mood flactuates with the weather. 

The skies have been grey for the past couple of days. We get a pocket of sunshine for an hour or two but that is it. From the moment I pull open the drapes the sky is blanketed in grey and I sigh to myself, "another grey one."  Today for some reason was a hard one. We were indoors - I think it was a combination of coming down from the holiday high - the food, the company etc etc. It was grey. I turned on the light box. It felt like it stayed on for all of 20 minutes - between my daughter pulling at the cord and pushing all sorts of buttons it did not last before I just turned it off. 

There is just something I felt so artificial about having a therapy light box. I will give it another shot when I am alone without the kids but today my whole body was screaming, " Your heart is not home here. This cannot be it." Have you ever received clarity in a decision of some kind? Today I received clarity of which I was not even looking for. This cannot be my reality. I cannot sit in darkness for four months of the year. I felt my soul slowly disintegrating. I have no idea how the next few months will look like. But what I do know is I do not know how, I do not know when, I do not know how when but there has to be a way out for my family and I to spend these winters. 

Glad to be back to have this space where I can vent. 

Bravery

 It has been said that bravery lies in every heart, and someday it will be summoned. Never has it been more true than this year. Parents left 20 year careers at the drop of a hat to homeschool their struggling child, grandmothers watched from windows as their first grandchild came into the world, seniors received their diplomas on Zoom and yet, here we are. We can stand proud, weary but proud. That as humanity we will look back at this moment in time and say we did hard things. As the sun sets on 2020, a new story awaits to be told in 2021. Stories of courage, stories of hope and stories that remind us we are much stronger than we think

Dear Parents : why in-person learning and pandemic cannot co-exist

 Today my son was supposed to start kindergarten. He was all excited - well sort of. He knew he was going to "the big school." Enter in little sister. She was to start in the pre-school at their new "school" today. However, this past weekend I noticed little sniffles and a running nose. So since it is my day off work I told my husband okay well no biggie let us keep her home today and see how she does on Tuesday etc. So off to kinder my husband and son went. My husband calls me like twenty minutes later. I thought mmh that went well. "They will not take him." he said. I was like huh? Yes, because little sister has "cold like symptoms and the policy from the ministry states siblings cannot be permitted if one is unwell." So they came back home, my son not looking too bothered with the whole thing - just glad to be back home and playing with his remote controlled police car.  After about twenty minutes the director of the program calls me and while she was courteous, she gave me the "three options" for the safe return of our little girl back to pre-school. Option one - quarantine for 14 days and be symptom free before she can be admitted. Option 2 - get a letter from a doctor stating her symptoms are non-covid related and be symptom free for at least 24 hours before her return. Option 3 - return a negative covid swab test and be symptom free. In addition the return to school of my son hinged on her passing one of the above litmus tests. I have no objection with any of all this - it all makes sense as far as respiratory transmission etc. So here we are. Scrambling to figure out our work schedules for this week. We are in early September folks - the summer clothes have barely been put away. The leaves have not yet even started changing their hues to usher in the Fall. Flu shots have not yet been offered. I am generally a glass half full kind of person. I always see the donut and not the hole. But this. This is not going to be a walk in the park. Kids catch colds. Toddlers are constantly reaching for things to put in their mouths. I do not know how or who are the policy makers are but I do know we need new rules of engagement for in person interaction of kids and pandemic to co-exist. I guess as parents we are all grateful for some childcare being better than no childcare after the 6 months rodeo we have been on. The challenge I think comes in trying to get a routine in place then boom the rug is snatched from beneath you that you are left wondering is it worth it getting my hopes up. We have never learnt how to lower our expectations more than we have in this year however if there is one thing I know now more than ever; is that as humanity we can do hard things, we can pivot, we can adjust our sails because clearly we cannot change the winds.

Life PC - Precovid and what collective grief is doing to our psyche

The other day I was telling my husband what a bummer we will miss to see our three year old graduate from pre-school this May. I brushed it off but later thought wow there is a college grad somewhere who has to keep looking at their gown and cap hanging from the closet knowing they will not walk across the podium, there is a bride who just picked up her dress from the final fitting who has had to send out cancellation cards to the wedding that was 2 years in the making. I think of the Olympian who has been training for four years to qualify for the just postpone Olympics, the cancelled family trips to Disney and having to grieve the loss of a loved one yet the closest you had to spend time with them in their final moments was through a window. The list is endless - we may not all be infected by Covid-19 but we have all been affected by her wrath. The collective sense of grief is what we are feeling as humanity; from the monarchies in Spain to the slums of Soweto. Grief and Covid are like fraternal twins - their DNA is 100% match. Grief knows no age, no color, no status, no gender. This is the sense of loss we are feeling as we grasp on to our lives PC- pre-Covid. Kubler-Ross is known worldwide as the grief guru - she classified the various stages of grief and they speak so clearly to a time such as now when we are all in different stages of managing our individual and collective losses.. In broad terms she speaks of navigating your way through Denial-Anger-Depression-Bargain and Acceptance as the final stage. I remember when the virus was still simmering in China - I had the 'NIBY - Not in my backyard" attitude. I kept telling my husband that yes whatever, its over there it is contained it is nowhere near us, all will be fine and we will have something else to distract us soon (denial). What I can say is that during this time there is a pendulum swing between different stages - the key is trying to move along the course and recognizing where you are as an individual in the continuum. Putting a name to our feelings during this time will help us manage our feelings better and ultimately get to the acceptance stage - the ultimate goal of healing in the grief process. Reaching acceptance does not happen overnight - and no one expects this to happen instantly. We just need to be a little more compassionate with each other. Everyone's resilience armor is different - some people are able to weather storms and keep paddling the boat.Others are unable to even catch a breath when the boat starts rocking as they go into full panic mode easily. So whether you are the "just keep swimming" type or the 'I cant do this type" lets all be kind to one another, bear each others burden and I promise you we will get to dry land.

One Year later

Dec 1st 2019 - a year since we landed in Toronto from Boston. The pic above is from the plane as we were departing. The sun was setting on a late fall evening - those days when the sun sets at 4:00pm - a sure sign that winter is around the corner. For me this was so symbolic of the setting of an era ; a sign from above that our time was up. You see for the past 12 years, my husband and I have called Boston home. It is here we met in college, made friends who became family, went on road trips, and served at our local church. I remember this time last year as though it were yesterday. There were so many unknowns - so much uncertainty and downright fear. You see our daughter was 4 months old - like her neck had  kaukad just enough to hold it upright on her own. She was still 100% breastfeeding.We knew like one person in the whole city. So there we landed - two small kids, car seats, hubby drove across the border with a good friend and a Uhaul in tow; with all our possessions on earth, ready to start a fresh. I remember after the Customs and Immigration official stamped the entry visas and said, " Welcome to Canada." I was like this is it - no turning back.We checked into a Comfort Inn close to the house for the night as we were exhausted - emotionally more than physically - it takes a lot from a human to leave behind all you have known and step into the unknown. Flash forward a year later. Our lives have definitely changed. We are not where / who we were a year ago. The start was bumpy for sure - as all new things are. There were literally times during the year I remember asking my hubby, "Did we make a mistake?" and of course in his always steady tone replied, "No. and even if we did, we will make it work." Today I can tell you with 100% clarity it was never a mistake, Canada may not be perfect - there are things we miss terribly about Boston - but guess what - that is all they are, THINGS.
The nuggets I have taken away from this year:

1.)God is faithful. Even when we are faithless He remains faithful. He is ALWAYS working things out for your good. Like imagine that. The creator of the universe is somewhere writing your life symphony.In  the details He is there. In the huge projects He is there.
2.)Children are resilient. You can drop them in Timbuktu or Russia and they will thrive if you surround them with love and remind them they always have a safe place they can come to called home.
3.) Cross that bridge. There is so much more waiting for you on the other side of your fear. There are literally people who cannot cross their bridge until you cross yours.Reaching their promised land hinges on you reaching the shores of yours. They need you to make that move, start that business and make that engagement proposal. So do it.

4.)Trust the process. Things may look messy, as though they are not making any sense but if you keep putting one foot in front of the other the pieces of the puzzle will fall into place and you will see the picture come together beautifully.
5.)Its harder to make friends when you are older. You see the older we get, the more fixed we are in our ways and our krap radar is so sensitive - you can smell it from a mile away. However I promise you, if you allow yourself to be open to new people and experiences you can learn, grow and forge new friendships with people in all seasons of your life.
6.) Do not settle for average. We are 24 days away from crossing into 2020 and ultimately a new decade. Do not settle for average relationships, average work heck even average food. If someone cannot pay you or see you for what you are worth please do yourself a favor and find your life work.
7.) My definition of success has changed this year - both personally and professionally. Define what success means to you and let no one tell you otherwise.

Over and out,
P.

SGR - to ride or not?

So last week my little family and I had the opportunity to ride the SGR to Mombasa. Me, hubby and two small kids - and by small I mean aged 2 and 7months. Yep we are that loco family that decided what the heck lets ride this thing to Mombasa.So let me back up a little. The whole thing was a package deal through Bonfire Adventures. By the way if you are looking for a good travel company, good customer service - like you can text your agent ANYTHING anytime of the day as you plan your trip please check out Bonfire here. I think I am a low key guru of travel - itineraries and errthang so believe me when I tell you Bonfire is the real deal. So anyway Bonfire had made the package so as we were finalizing the lady tells us its regular economy class on the SGR. My eyes widened a bit. The reason is my sister had been on the SGR and gone with economy and she literally took the bus back from Mombasa after riding it from Nbi. Yani she said the seats were face me - knees touching and all lol. She was also stuck in between madthes playing Dolly Parton and Michael Bolton - no shame in that music game. Another lady told me aai I think those seats are made small for the Chinese. So in short we quickly upgraded our tickets to first class.We parted with an extra 2000 for each ticket - the regular economy coach is 1000. But trust me with two kids it was a small price to pay.

Security
So for me this was overkill. There are literally three layers of security.From the parking lot the first check you lay your bags down and literally step aside with other passengers in a straight line and then out of nowhere some German sheperd looking like dogs come round sniffing the bags for crack or IEDs. The second layer is regular airport like machines and security guards with batons. Here you need to show your ticket and ID. Make sure you arrive at least an hour to be able to print out your ticket if you do not have one already. You will need to key in the phone number of the person who made the booking if you did not do it directly. The third and final layer is ANOTHER aiport screening machine - like the first one is not enough. So you can imagine we had a suitcase diaper bags snack bags and two children it was kinda dramatic. I was like aai even Alcatraz is not this tight.

Terminus:
Both the Nairobi and Mombasa Terminus are so well done. (The Mombasa one a bit better than the Nbi one.) Lots of parking space - you will pay 50shs so you or your driver need to be ready with that, loads of places to sit and wait for the train, there are wheelchair accesible areas - lifts and ramps up to the train.The bathrooms have no toilet paper no baby changing stations - this is a whole topic for another day. I cannot tell you how many places need to install changing stations in Kenya. There needs to be a movement of some kind. I had to change my 7month old on the sink counter. Which is not a big deal but those changing stations would help a bunch.
There is a restaurant you can grab some snacks at the Nbi terminal.
Waiting Lounge - so the first class has its own separate waiting area. It was nice and quiet. I told you its worth the extra cash.
Nairobi terminal is on Mombasa road past the Jomo Kenyatta Airport. A place called Syokimau. Give yourself plenty of time especially with the morning SGR to get there on time to deal with those sniffing dogs.
Mombasa terminal is at a place called Miritini in the North Coast. Again get there on time and try figure out your ride to your destination from the SGR terminus beforehand coz both of these places are kinda far from the city center and there is lots of commotion on exiting with taxi, Uber drivers, tour company drivers etc. looking for their people or any stray person with no plan.

Actual Train
The seats were very spacious. So so comfy - it was better than some flights  Lots of legroom, lots of overhead bag space. Oh so about luggage - there is no checking in your bag ati to the final destination. Nope you are stuck with your luggage until Mombasa. So little secret - consolidate your luggage into one suitcase. Less is more. There is a space at the back of the coach for large luggage - of course like our suitcase. But otherwise there is plenty of over head room for large bags, small suitcases etc. The chairs recline which made it even more relaxing.

Snacks / Freebies - So they came round serving tea and coffee. Nothing like drinking real Kenyan tea in transit. You know usually its a lousy black tea bag with semi-hot water and a drop of milk. This was the real deal like the one you drink at your cucu place over Christmas.
As far as freebies that was it lol ;). Some guy beside us joked to the hostess "aai for first class c at least utupatie ka sausage or samosa." Translated as "for first class there should be at least a sausage or a meat pattie." I really have no opinion on this - who am I kidding - some tu biscuits would be nice.
Moral of the story if you have kids or even just for yourself pack snacks you can munch on. Its six hours, the restaurant is mainly pub like so just pack yourself some digestives, marie biscuits, mahamris - whatever the heck you need to juice you up.
NO WIFI - this for me was a kinda bummer - aii ching chong tuekee internet. There is no Wifi on the train so dont board with all your devices ready to start asking for passwords. I meeeean its 2019 - we kinda get the shakes without internet connection. So I think they need to just hook it up with Wifi

TIMING
Its Impeccable. We rode the afternoon train both ways coz the afternoon one is express.Oh another secret if you are looking to go without stoppin stopping. The afternoon one goes direct from Nbi to Msa and vice versa. The morning one stops at a couple of the terminals kina Emali, mtito andei etc etc. So anyway we were scheduled to depart at 2;30pm and sure enough we started boarding at 2:00pm and by 2:30pm we were pulling out of the station. So this is not African timing things its Chinese time and those people are disciplined ki military.Arrive on time is all I am saying. And on time is minimum an hour before.

Noise Level
It was quiet .Well let me be clear. Our ride to Mombasa was so quiet - I think we were actually the loudest with our two children and all their demands - from lollipops to bathroom breaks to needing naps. If you know kids you know how they can be needy. However our ride back to Nairobi we got seats in a coach with a performing team that hosts a comedy show on KTN. I think its called Inspekta Mwala. They are basically comedians. So we literally were with three or four other people who were sitting with this crew who looked like they had done a weekend shoot in Mombasa. They were having a good time lets just say.It made good comic effect and good photo ops but heh it was quiet in the next coaches.

Sights and Sounds
So you will pass Tsavo National Park. There is a side that has more wildlife - the side away from the road. But again dont over expect as though you have paid for a tour of the Masai Mara. This is a favor Mother nature is doing for you building a railway through her land. You will see lots of zebra, hyenas, a ka random elephant or two, some giraffes that have wandered off etc etc. They are kinda far so unless you have those zooming in lens x100 just enjoy the view and dont start insisting on pictures for IG coz again the train is moving fast.

So in short I enjoyed my SGR experience. I would give it a 5star rating. Well thought out, well managed and good service. Great way to head down to the Coast and support growth of our national railway system. Till next time Tembea Kenya!

They want the same things we do

So there has been an ongoing separation of families at the Southern US border. This is as a follow up to the current administration zero tolerance policy as issued by AG Sessions in April. Basically jump the fence and we will come after you . But not just that we will separate you and your children to serve as a warning to your comrades in Honduras, Ecuador, Chile etc that we do not give a krap. We have to continue in the pursuit of making America great. You do the crime,  you do the time at all costs.
I remember it as though it were yesterday - September 1st 2006.On a warm Nairobi Friday night I left all I knew and hopped on a British Airways flight bound to Boston, MA. Carrying with me a suitcase full of winter clothes and $1000 that stood between me and homelessness.. I was coming to the land of the free and the home of the brave. I was coming to seek a better future for myself and my family that I knew I would not have had had I stayed. Flashback to three months ago - I was adding my name to the savings account. The teller asked me - are you still working as a receptionist? I froze for a moment. Wow when I had initially opened the account I was working as a receptionist. I took a minute to respond - in this country where even a minute of silence is deemed awkward. "Ma'm?" the teller called as she snapped me back to reality. "No I currently work as a nurse - actually a nurse practitioner." I replied.
You see a nurse practitioner in the US is classified as a health care provider. Basically practices at the same level as a doctor, physician assistant - write prescriptions, does diagnostic workups etc etc. So when she asked me that I had to take a moment and reflect at how America has opened door after door for me. I have had one stepping stone after the other that has allowed me to grow in my career. During my college days I was fortunate to receive awards and scholarships that enabled me to pay my way through college etc etc.America is a great country - a large country. And it is large enough for everyone to thrive and succeed.
My story is not unique to the immigrants who are coming across the border. If anything unlike me - they are literally fleeing for their lives safety. They want the exact same things we do - a better future and life for their children. So for me seeing the images of children being kept in cage like contraptions at the Southern border separated from their parents has been heart wrenching to say the least. Lets be honest - the strategy is a scare tactic to make a "we mean business" statement.
I get it - America has given out handouts to the world for too long. America has been "the granary of the world" for too long - I am sure you have seen the USAID bales of corn being distributed in various refugee camps across the globe. I get it - immigrants come and "take the jobs" they "cause crimes" I will just throw it in here that most times these same "immigrants" take on the most menial labor intense job - I mean harvesting crop in sunny California, working long hours in factories. All they want is that better future and hope for their children.

Lady liberty said it best
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

No road map in this life - lessons from my folks.

I remember turning 18. Fresh out of high school ready to take over the world. I remember even more vividly a conversation with my mum. The line that is forever etched in my memory,  "And Penny ujue hamna mashamba."  Verbatim to mean - you have no plots to inherit. So get working!!At the time I was like damn mama how mean is that - like you are seriously saying from here on its blood sweat and tears how now?? But looking back now I am forever grateful for my parents and how (knowingly or unknowingly) prepared me for life. One of the greatest lessons they taught me was they never ever taught me how to think. They never handed me a road map to life. All they did was put tools in my hand and made sure they set up an environment - both at school and at home where I felt my dreams were truly valid. I remember coming home one day I had dropped from number 3 to number 12. I was so so dissapointed. (Yup I was that geek - glasses, braces the works.) I remember the day so clearly - the report form was yellow in color emblazoned - St.Nicholas school - number 12 out of 36. I handed it to my dad. He opened it. I blinked back tears and looked away. He shouts, "Congratulations sweetheart - yes he called and still calls me sweetheart. Look how well you did in English. Next time pull up your socks in G.H.C and Art&Craft. What happened this time sweetheart?either way - I am proud of you." And that was that. And I knew there and then that I was loved.That my number in class did not validate who I was to my father. Because the truth is  - it is more important to save a child's soul than their report form.Some things are just that - things.While others are eternal. I remember when I would tell my mum about how I would open a hospital and I would call it "The Color Purple hospital.Everything would be purple even the sheets and towels." And she would validate that little girls dreams and say " Yes you will be a great doctor." Or how my dad would make sure he exposed us to " wazungus" growing up. He would introduce us to the guests - he was in the hotel industry - like here are my kids. My pride and joy. Living "abroad" now so many years later, I have no qualms holding my own in front of a "mzungu." Because my daddy reminded me that you are as educated (and as eloquent) as anyone. And besides as my sister says no one can make you feel inferior without your consent.I remember when I told my folks I wanted to "fly out" for college. My mum hustled with me every step of the way - tarmacking in Nairobi - waiting for email responses from the college admissions, hustling for bank statements, my dad hustling for air ticket fare. It was hectic but here is the thing - they did not go ahead clearing the path for me - handing me a road map. They provided the tools and the environment AFTER I told them what I wanted to do. Not the other way around. They did not impose their dreams or desires on me.That for me is the biggest lesson I would want to impart in my kids. Because while as parents we desire to make the path smooth, clear all the bushes ; that is actually doing the next generation a disservice. Because this world throws you so many curve balls. If you are not prepared to know how to dodge or catch the balls coz someone else has been doing it all your life, you are in for a rude awakening. So here is a toast to my folks and for not being the helicopter hovering over me type.

When enough is enough

Its 3pm - I am somewhere at work. I look at the TVs screen and see Breaking News - well everything nowadays is breaking news. 17 people shot and others wounded in high school in Florida. Another  mass shooting.Another day at the factory. The cycle begins - anti-gun rallies, mental health rallies, prayer vigils, and as usual crickets from the NRA. The White House releases a statement, " Now is not the time to discuss gun reform - we need to let the families heal." Wait a minute it was not the time either when 20 children between the ages of 5 and 10 were shot in Newtown, CT. But that was 5years ago. And still we wait to have the discussion.Then two days after the dust settles - business as usual. Counselling will be provided for students and their families at the school. The president will visit with the wounded at the hospital. Then we go back and wait. Wait for the next massacre and we start over.
Here is the thing. America has and continues to thrive on a NIBY culture. Not In My Back Yard.As long as those refugees are nowhere near me - c'est la vie - let me write the monthly giving check and move on. As long as that kid of color was not shot in my neighborhood - it was some riff raff city in SouthSide Chicago - does not happen around here. After all I drop my kids at school pick them up, heck they wear helmets and knee pads when they ride their bikes in our little gated community. But guess what ; that is exactly what those parents of the kids and teens who have been killed since Columbine thought they were doing right. Until they received the call to head over to the school IMMEDIATELY there has been a shooting. The worst call you can receive as a parent is from the police with as little information as "we cant give you any information over the phone you need to head over."
I have no idea when enough will be enough. Just this past year, women came out of the shadows and said time is up on sexual misconduct. You would think the killing of 6  and 7 year olds would be case enough to call bluff on mental illness as a copout for mass shootings. Again NIBY. Just last year, laws were rolled back that prohibited people with a mental health condition from purchasing a gun. You can fact check me here mental health gun law. Does this even make sense? Like you want to make it easier for someone with a mental health condition to purchase a gun.Tell me NRA campaign funding is not written all over this. I get it I get it. The 2nd Amendment yes yes right to bear arms and all that. I get it. The only thing that can stop a bad man with a gun is a good man with a gun - copy that. You must keep the family safe - I get that too. But what I do not get is why obtaining a gun license in this country - is almost as easy as obtaining a driving license. Yes I hear you 2nd amendment advocates - one is a right the other is a privilege. Ditto.
I wish rifle / gun owners would get this simple message. No one is trying to take away your guns. All that is being called for is stricter regulation on who can / should have access to them. Think about it - when you apply for a driving license you have to at least pass a drivers test of some kind. If you wear glasses you are required to disclose that and you are made to do some basic vision test. You are also to be of certain age. Its not for your safety its for the safety of others. Maybe its a power thing.I remember 80 year old patients at the nursing home - their last thing to give up - after putting up a fight was their driving license. This was of course after they rammed into cars in parking lots after thinking they were in drive and yet they were in reverse. Its not for your safety - its for the safety of others.

While yes this may be a "gun problem" we also need to acknowledge the fact that in the grand scheme of things this is also a "decayed society problem." Did you know that the US is one of THREE countries in the world that does not offer paid maternity leave. I had actually thought there were five countries but nope just three...She is competing for the bottom of the pack with two little countries - Papua New Guinea and Lesotho. Countries the size of a couple of states combined.And ask me why this is a problem. That mother child bonding in the early stages of life is so important. We flip the script and then consider the stay at home mum scenario. Because living standards have changed - gone are the days when one income was enough to guarantee you that picket fence.Now you have a father having to work for two paychecks coming home so exhausted finding disgruntled technology-addicted-teenagers.

 So I guess cue in mental illness. Everyone can agree we are raising a generation of over anxious, over stimulated borderline unhappy generation. Technology - which is here to stay has also not helped the situation.
So whats the solution - oh wait the president today suggested arm the teachers..Like ADD more guns to the school to "protect" the kids..Teachers are up in arms - no pun- and I do not blame them. I mean literally the sherriff assigned to the school sat outside hunched behind his car for FOUR whole minutes as the shooting unfolded. He literally froze. Like four minutes in a shoot out is like eternity. He has since resigned.So much for " the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun correct?" So guess what if a TRAINED sherriff waited and strategized (and maybe chickened out) tell me about a first grade teacher. Personally it is insulting for the president to offer such a suggestion - and in addition to dangle a carrot like oh we will add bonuses for whichever teacher goes for arms training. Like seriously teachers are in my opinion the lowest paid civil servants and yet they may be spending more time with our kids than we are.
I can ramble on and on but the bottom line is America's chicken have come home to roost. Its been a week since the shooting. This is school vacation week. I think of the parents who lost their children. Maybe they had planned a mini getaway or maybe there was a senior who had planned to go prom dress hunting with her mum this weekend. But now all that remains is their empty teenagers room just the way they left it that morning - maybe an unmade bed , a slice of pizza on the side from the previous night. Pictures on the wall of  Justin Timberlake. Flags all over the country are still flying at half mast,  outrage and protests continue but the sad reality is as the days unfold slowly the fire will die down as we await the next massacre.

Nuru na Uhai..These two words are the motto of my Alma Matter Moi Girls School Nairobi. In Swahili they translate to Light and Life. If you went to high school in Kenya you must be familiar with the nickname your school had. Chalks, Bush, Patch, Changes, Pango, Stato , Kotet, Boma the list is endless - each with a story behind the name.Ours was Kabbz, Quabbz, Cabbz - whichever way you spelt it the joke was that they served cabbages daily and as a "rubble" yup more Kenyan high school lingo - a Form one is basically the dust / rubble on the ground - you had that to look forward to in the DH. Cabbages were the one thing I dreaded the most - I loathed cabbages. To me I found cabbages tasted like paper dipped in water. But four years after my stay at Moi Girls they became a delicacy - I guess the "chefs" at our school had perfected the art after cooking them over and over again.
They say you form lasting friendships in college. I think high school is where the meat and potatoes of friendships is. Specifically in form one. Each and every person who walked through the green gates of Kabbz slept in a communal dorm known as "Kabarnet." Oh did I mention we were not the only girls of the then president Moi. He had his girls in Isinya, he had Moi Girls Eldoret we were his "Nairobi girls" It was only fitting that one of the dorms was named after his hometown Kabarnet which we called Kaba.
On September 2nd Kaba was set on fire. 9 form ones lost their lives and 50 more were injured. The news had so much grief as parents and friends of the deceased grappled with the loss of their loved ones. The parents of some of the students are still trying to locate their loved ones through DNA testing.
There are many discussions making the rounds regarding the tragedy. How long the fire department got to arrive, how the arsonist had clearly opposition defiance that went unchecked, one conversation even politicized the whole thing.
I think the most important thing  at the moment is just be present. Be present for the 9 families that are grieving, be present for the 51 girls who were injured. Be present for the rest of the girls in the school as a whole. Sit with them in their grief as long as they need. PTSD is real, the trauma of reliving a painful experience is just that - painful. And so after the dust settles, the cameras leave Moi Girls and move on to a new story, that is when the girls will need to be lifted up the most.Those girls in the other hostels who came to the rescue, the girls who managed to escape will need strength to get through the tough days because they will come

Ashes to Ashes. Dust to dust

Today I had the most surreal experience. One of my patients recently lost her father whose wishes were to be cremated. No one in the family wanted to keep his ashes - go figure - so guess where the urn lands - yep on the dresser of my patient. She asked me casually - do you want to see the urn? I hear my heart race - yes I gulp. So she proceeds to bring out the urn. I clutch the side of the dresser. I am actually staring at what was once a living breathing person now reduced to ashes - no pun. I lift the urn - heavy as lead.She asks casually again - do you want to see inside? My eyes widen - yes. She opens it as though she is opening a jar of candy.  I wait to see white smoke come out and the skies open above. Instead all that is inside is a clear bag filled with white powder. At this point I am like this is nowhere near any part of my job description - what the heck am I doing here? I still have the gloves from earlier. I touch and feel the ashes of a man I will never know. At this point my patient is busy yapping away,  "Yeah they say this is all bone that is why it is white."  "Can you believe this is daddy?" "They were going to charge me $800 for a coffin oh heck no." I can barely hear a word she is saying. In my head so many thoughts are running through my head - did he live a full life? what is a full life anyway? Did he get to dance in the rain? Did he know he was loved? Did he die in pain? Did he know Jesus? Was he an atheist? The moment passes. She puts away the urn. I tell her that was so insightful and intense. To think that yani even after all the plastic surgery, the weight loss programs it all boils down to ashes. It was an eye opener and reminder of a blog I had once posted on. In life its not the number of years that define your life but the dash in between. So run your race, do not be afraid to dance in the rain, blaze your own trail. Be your biggest competition. Set your own bars and break your own glass ceilings. Love passionately. Heck skydive if you must. For real today I came face to face with the term YOLO. Its even Biblical,
Eccl 12:7 : and the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.
Okay over and out. .

What is this madness?

As always I remember the log in info to this blog when I need to rant and rave!!Again healthcare delivery has made me mad, furious so furious...Saturday 5:30am. I have just fed the baby his early morning milk and as I put him to bed I idly scroll through my Instagram and see "Urgent appeal. My friend Druscilla is in the ICU and she needs platelets after an emergency C-section. That name sends off alarm bells - there are not too many Druscillas I have met in this lifetime.Can it be her - it has to be her - Mombasa. mother of one.Aga Khan  Hospital. yes it is her. I immediately send my sister a message. Have you heard? I start thinking oh em gee who do I know in Mombasa who can donate blood and better yet is O+ . Joan my good friend lived in Mombasa and is currently in Kenya visiting. I update her. She is in shock. She will ask her old contacts who are in the Aga Khan area to try donate. Tuesday 7am - as I refresh my Instagram feed - "Rest with the angels Dru." I drop my shoulders in defeat. A beautiful life snatched in its bloom. A husband left a widower with a newborn and a son. Its 2017 - the fact that a woman can die of childbirth "complications" makes me mad enough to have to put my thoughts on paper at 1:53am. To think that if you have a loved one who needs blood that in 2017 we are making appeals to somebody, anybody to "go donate" as they fight for their life. Like what is this? Like how is it that Kenya is competing at a world standard in technology, real estate, heck we paved the way for mobile banking worldwide through mpesa and yet as far as healthcare a woman can die of childbirth complications. I was reading an article and they did not even have the terms to articulate what happened - all they could say was there were complications in her limbs after she had the baby. What does that even mean? I just dont know where the turning point will be as far as healthcare delivery systems. I guess maybe there are bigger fish to fry. My sister says I have become "detached" from the realities of Kenya. Maybe thats what it is. Maybe I have no idea what is actually going on on the ground. Or maybe everyone is so much on the grind that aint nobody got time to be sick. I think there needs to be a healthcare revolution - I dont know the hows I dont know the whos I dont know the whens but I do know it needs to happen and it needs to happen soon.

The good the bad and the downright ugly of the Rio Olympics

As the sun sets in Rio on the games of the 31st Olympiad, one cannot help but comment on not only the level of cut throat competitiveness but also the drama that follows all Olympic games. Initially Rio as a venue was marred in controversy - will there be enough space to build the stadiums, will there be enough security and just recently Zika virus decided to rear its head adding to the already crazy mix. However, except for the green diving pool, plumbing issues here and there at the Olympic village and Ryan Lochte's exaggerated tale on the big "hold up" Rio showed the world that Brazil is still a tour de force to reckon with as a tourist destination. From the sun kissed mountains, the music,the samba, to the magnificent statue of Christ the Redeemer, the white sand at CopaCabana beach we were left awed by the beauty of the city. First off lets begin with the opening ceremony - yes you could tell it did not have the glitz and the glam of Sydney Olympics or the uniform routines of Beijing but Giselle made up for this with her catwalk across the stadium. Although one would wonder what was the point of that walk - here we were waiting for the ground beneath her to turn into gold or chocolate to fall from the skies but alas no such thing happened. Meanwhile the walk of nations - Cameroon yall know how to clean up good - those outfits were a true representation of the mother land Africa. While the opening (and closing) ceremonies did not have the va va voom and technology of other host cities that try to out do each other each Olympic year - Rio was simple and beautiful. And thats what Brazilians wanted - love us or leave us - this is who we are. Anyhu... lets start with the darling of the Olympics - Simon Biles - though she be but little she really is fierce..that girl can jump and twist and do things to the human body that you wonder ala is that normal. Another Simon (Mullen) became the first African American to win in the swimming competition - kudos! As for Ally Raisman folks - what passion they had!!They would twist and clutch their seats and twist some more when she took the floor - true Bostonian spirits right there!Meanwhile back at the ranch - Gabby Gabby Gabby smh smh. wait did she really skive the closing ceremony??Gabby Douglas became an icon of the phrase from hero to zero. I wrote about her 8 years ago right here..I will admit half the time she looked bored, the other half of the time she was trying to understand why she was getting cyber bullied by people sitting behind a screen who have not accomplished half of what she has at her age. Hashtag leave Gabby alone.She was a reminder of the necessary evil that media can be - build you up only to tear you down when you as much as sneeze in public and forget to cover your nose. Its all good Gabby add your gold medal to your trophy cabinet and get on with life. On a more lighter note talk about the human spirit in full force - Olympian Hamblin who lost out on her chance to win a medal to help her injured Olympian Dagostino after they got tangled in their 5000m medley. Reminder that at the end of the day of the power of "Ubuntu" - I am because we are. There is an African saying - if you want to go fast go alone, if you want to go far go together!! Mmmh lemme see what else is worth writing home about - Oh what about that Katie Ledecky girl she came to swim!!!Madam shattered her own world record and the distance she left the other swimmers with jeesh..there was a point you could think she was in training in the pool alone. And of course swimming is not complete without a mention of Phelps. Yani I think he owned a third of the total US medals. What about his adorable son and those gigantic DJ noise blocking headphones - by all means necessary we need to go support daddy!! Since we are on swimming I guess we might as well address the elephant in the room - one Ryan Lochte. Isnt it sad how good looks pale in comparison to poor character. What a sour way to end such a lovely occasion. I mean how do you break down a door because you need to use the bathroom. Which begs the question - would he break down a door "back home" in the US at McDonalds after a night of partying and cry the sky is falling? Is it a case of America being the big bully of the world?  Oh well as some reporters said after the incident "boys will be boys." (gags). Kudos to Kenya for being the highest African country on the medal board - you know Kenya leaves it all on the field when it comes to long distance running and the new found sport - javelin - Lets go Yego!!! The Kipchoge Keino documentary was a great start and how awesome that the Kenyan anthem was sung at the closing ceremony for the winning marathon race.However on another note - whats up with all the Kenyan athletes defecting to run for other countries. Yani you look at the screen and see Langat, Kiprop running for Bahrain or the US and yet their accent dripping Nandi Hills. Then under the screen you see hometown Eldoret (which is not a city in Kansas if anyone was wondering). Anyway  at the end of the day jamii lazima ikule. Meanwhile lets throw some shade on the Kenya National Olympics Committee.Where are the outfits Nike sent?Lets not be surprised if the outfits end up in a sports store in Luthuli Av a few months from now (sigh)..(the cost of corruption)...Kudos to the refugee team..one of the swimmers had swam across the Aegean sea escaping war torn Syria. How about that US womens running squad led by whats her name Felix? heh she finished running and was walking like de nada - its nothing. These Olympics were a reminder that aside from our division along political, racial, education and social lines, sports unifies us in ways that we cannot explain. We have as a world for the past three weeks forgotten the ugly head of terrorism and how it has become a part of our conversation.The Olympics is the only place you will see a North and South Korean pose for a selfie together. It has shown us the power of Ubuntu - I am because we are. Brazil has shown the world that we may not have it all together as a nation, but we sure as heck know how to welcome and entertain. So whether we left Brazil in a better or worse state as they try to re- settle and get Rio back to normal one thing is for sure Rio left us all excited and thirsty to reach for the Olympian in each of us. See you in Tokyo 2020.Okay now back to your regular viewing *flips channel to CNN for the latest in election* (yawn yawn)

Quote for later

Here is a for later quote i will come back to


“It’s not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the person who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs, who comes up short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming, who does actually strive to do the deeds, who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so his place shall never be with those cold, timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” 

Theodore Roosevelt

Quote(s) I stumbled upon from my old diaries

So I stumbled upon one of my old diaries...yeah I have a diary for every year since 2006 - I kid you not 10 years later...Actually the other day Dennz  was like honey let us merge our online calendars so we can know whats coming up for each other...I went like (sheepish) - uum honey I still write out my dates in a physical diary - I am so like my cucu and mum in so many ways..

So anyway here are some quotes I stumbled upon in my diary the year I was planning to come to the US...they have just reminded me of something one of my favorite motivational speakers Seth Godin - yes Casey - Seth Godin says - do not wait to get pick PICK yourself...do not wait to get that pat on the shoulder - you have to be your biggest cheerleader - internal versus external motivation - blog post for another day..
Okay happy reading... oh and  happy New Year!!


" If you give up when it is winter you will miss the promise of your spring, the beauty of your summer fulfillment of your Fall."

" The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty and we must rise to the occasion. As our case is new so we must think anew and act a anew. We must disenthrall ourselves and then we shall save our country..." Abraham Lincoln.

Success: It is not the position you stand but the direction in which you look.

Dropping in

 Just in case I forget tlet me leave this here...One of the best collabos of a life time pure talent - no hollywood just pure TALENT
Brian Mc knight and Mariah Carey