Tribute to my slain Marine friend

Let my tear drops put down the words from my heart

Let my memory curve what I want to say about you

Let my tongue glue to its palate if I must say wrong about you

I will forever miss you

 

You were the scarce yet forever present friend

An inspiration in times of hopelessness

A true friend always ready to share

I will forever miss you

 

You placed your life at risk for the good of others

You lost your life in protection of strangers

Yet an eternal prize awaits you

I will forever miss you

 

RIP dear uncle Joe

RIP brother Joe

RIP friend Joe

I will forever miss you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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30 minutes at the mortuary

My daring self never ceases to amuse me.

Last Friday, it got stubborn again, this time however for something a nightmare to many.

I set out to go to the Nairobi city mortuary, with two other colleagues, we decided to stroll the distance and finally we were at a place, not deserted, but for lack of a better word, de-congested.

Speak of a mortuary and you will be surprised the changes on people’s faces; mere frowns and sulks.

I know too well that as you read this, you are already wondering what I was up to.

Walk with me; let’s get into the mortuary. Caution: if you have a weak heart, don’t dare get in, ok?

Now pick your hankie and make sure you cover your nose properly, the stench here is horrible. And don’t even worry about the flies, they have a home here and they will welcome you even before you think of stepping inside the gate.

Right, let’s enter, one step in the gate, you do not want to let the other leg in but courage, let’s go, it is only for the adventurous.

Hey, do not throw up, I also have nausea. I also know you want to spit, for that, feel free because I cannot avoid it either.

Now, look to your right, you see those ladies?  They are also covering their noses and mouths, oh, look at the other one, she is even spitting, so you are not alone.

There you go, look under that tree; see that man in a white medical coat with gloves in his hands and gum boots in his feet? He also has a pad on his nose and mouth.

And at the door to the mortuary, that man, plus look at that woman in the same, she is freely eating, she should be used, looks like she works here.

The stench is also terrible for them.

The place is green although the breeze is contaminated.

The ladies sitting in the compound, and the other people you see around either work here or have come to look for bodies of their beloved ones, who they think could have died and brought here by police.

There is no laughing here. You laugh, you inhale, you smile, and your teeth are being contaminated too.

When that warden opens the door wide, a huge filthy smell comes out, in bulk you can literally feel it, you get nausea.

But wait, let me ask him if we can get in, but if we cannot hold our throats for a minute while we are outside, then what will happen when we get in, we might probably just die.

Courage- let us go

Can we get in please?

“No you cannot unless you have permission from the office to search for a body here,” he says

So those who have permission get in, huge pieces of clothes covering their noses-just imagine what they are about to see.

Freezers habouring dead bodies, both rotten and bolted. There are about 600 bodies here; you have to search until you find yours.

Every freezer is designated to carry 4 corpses, but when the numbers are high like the case is, over 10 can be packed in one.

“But bodies stay for a long time, many times people come to look for their relatives after 3 month, they are no longer bodies but maggots and that is the stench,” says the gentleman in a white coat

What about the drugs administered to preserve them?

“You know these drugs can only work for a short while and they do not stop decay,” he replies

Now, according to this gentle man, there is an average of 10 bodies coming in everyday, however on days like when there are accidents, the numbers go to about 25 and above.

These are people that police picks up on the roads, whose relatives are not known.

Ok, now, I really want to throw up, we need to get out of here, I cannot take it anymore, my air is stinking, my clothes too and I feel filthy, I just want shower.

I have to miss lunch because I cannot imagine eating while I smell the stench back there.

Back home, I take a warm soothing bath, I still smell it. Why did I go there?

“You are so daring,” my inner self reminds me.

Welcome back, was the journey worth?

The Masai woman: a true reflection of African Beauty

Masai Woman

She is black and beautiful.

A black woman’s smile like a two-edged sword cuts the eyes of those who receive it.

Her teeth shine through the gloom of her complexion.

Even free of any makeups, her clear and dark skin still glitters.

Sometimes bold headed, other times with rough, thick and black hair.

The Masai woman wears a bead head crown with filaments flowing right into her face, these just crowns off her natural beauty.

Her neck never goes bare; a thousand colorful bead ornaments dangle from round her long and feminine neckline.

Her ears are exceptional; always adorned with big beautiful earrings made of beads, sometimes metal, or even feathers.

She is unique; she is the typical African Woman, who leaves no stone unturned.

Who of you does not want to look like her? I bet none.

In this era of the olden-days fashion craze, many ladies, African and non-African, yours truly inclusive are acceding to this look.

To some of you, this may look like a primitive culture of the Masai people, please wake up because there is probably one thing you are missing.

I call it the screen genuine beauty because it is setting up a trend onto which modern day women are trading.

You may agree with me, that almost everything that there is to appreciate about African beauty is curved by such looks.

No wonder, our White brethren too are admiring it.

Men are not left out on this; ladies you must know that real gents are now days looking for this natural look. They hate forged beauty the ‘wigs and heavy makeup’ days are long lost.

“I do not want to date a woman who looks too plastic, I prefer her in her the way she is,” says Ignatius Matabisi, a Ugandan single and searching Gent.

We are off those days of the bleaching craze, when almost every black woman tried hard to look white. Could it be that Africans are becoming more patriotic? May be yes.

Clever ladies now know the trend and how to please their admirers, and so they are in for it.

Try the Masai Markets and you will be shocked at the numbers of women purchasing African accessories there.

One thing about this African jewelry, there are a variety of accessories made of different materials like beads, ivory, and metal among others.

Pieces produced include arm bungles, necklaces, rings, and head crowns, to mention but a few. This gives you liberty of choice so you can never go wrong.

They come in all forms and colours, making you even brighter when you wear them thus revealing your natural beauty.

Put on that bright head crown, blend it with those colourful beads around your neck, plus matching bungle and earrings would also do.

You can wear them for any kind of occasion, ranging from a simple home party to weddings and other occasions cultural and otherwise, just if you choose to go African.

You can also blend them with equally matching African fabrics such as ‘kitenge’.

How and where you choose to put them on entirely depends on you, also bearing in mind that Fashion is subjective.

When all is done, get back to me if no guy hits on you.

When God drops a tear…

Come rain, Come sunshine

When God drops a tear

He opens the flood gates of heaven

He lets it rain, he lets it pour

The earth gets a downpour

The lands go wet

The proud city dwellers grumble

Yet the village humble ones celebrate

When God drops a tear

The driver complains

The pedestrian curses

Yet the farmer gives thanks

When God drops a tear

When God receives the complains

He closes one eye, opens another wide

He stops crying, and so does the rain

When God opens one eye wide

The city rejoices but later complains,

The farmer celebrates but after curses,

The pedestrian gets relief but then jeers,

When God opens one eye wide

What does  Humanity prefer?

God crying or closing one eye,

And open the other wide?

I also don’t know what to prefer.