KPI/Progress report

There's a difference between knowing your car and trusting you your car. I know my car but I sure as hell don't trust it. I'm well within reason. You know how toddler boys can be unhinged, one day you can find them summersaulting from the top of the stairs. A really nice lady once narrated how she found her two year old nephew on top of the water tank? Okay not quite the tank itself but you know those concrete structures that are built higher than a house so that the water tank is placed there? Yeah that's where the nephew was found. That's an incident worthy to have you almost collapse. I'm not likening my car to a child, but I'm just saying on many occasions, Honda has made me want to collapse. Because of that, we've been on such a long break. I'm the prodigal owner. I'll return to it one day. Mothers never entirely give up on their children.

Now that that's out of the way, I'll introduce you to a conundrum I had on Tuesday. Only on one condition though, that this post will never reach my pops. The oldest person you can share this with should be 50 years old. That's the age cap. Promise? Okay. Thanks guys. We could now proceed. On Tuesday, I had to go teach a baking lesson in Tatu City. (I also had to come back home afterwards hehe). The whole of Monday, Tatu City was registering in my mind as Konza City. I've never been to either place. So the whole of Monday, I'm dreading how far and expensive the journey will be. I'm picturing the whole of Mombasa Road, imagining that I might as well head on to Mombasa afterwards to see my nephew and sister in law. The thought of the commute had me already feeling tired. 

Thankfully, I looked up the maps on Tuesday morning and saw that Tatu City is the one on Thika Road sides, not Konza City. Oopsie. However, it was still far, maps showed an hour drive from ours. So here comes the conundrum. I can't use Honda. I can't boda all the way there, I wasn't feeling like catching pneumonia, plus that's too far a commute for Boda. I could Uber there, but with a discount, it's still more than 1 thousand. So that means 2400/= for a return trip. I'm to have 3 lessons, which totals to 7200/= Can't charge the client that. However, pop's car was around and he wasn't. In his absence, we are forbade to drive it. It's never been said, but it's how in a household, some rules are intrinsically known. Unwritten constitution kind of thing. Fueling it for all those trips would total to three thousand. Now that, I could charge the client. What would you guys do? 

Decisions decisions. I just had to be very careful. Let all matatu and bodas have their way and my chances of returning the car safely would be high. Plus like I mentioned on a post here before, my comfortable driving speed is 70 kmph. So that's what I did guys. I did what a Gen Z would do. I borrowed it without necessarily borrowing from him. Plus it's for work, it's not like it's for sherehe or luxury. (That's what I kept telling myself on my way to Tatu City) 

First things first, can we talk about the Museum hill MTC expressway exit? You avoid traffic all along only to be met with traffic at that exit. To put it simply, it's annoying and sometimes beats the purpose of using the express way. So anyway, once I got past that, I started sweating. Here's why. I was to use the museum hill ramp to find myself on Thika Road. That area stresses me. It has the Muthithi road exit, which if using you have to time properly. It also has the Ojijo road exit where sometimes drivers nyima you a chance to exit. Then you can still go slightly on your left to go sijui where. But this time, I was to go straight to get to Thika Road. Which I did guys. And I'm proud of myself. Because before getting to Thika Road, there's many tu side roads which one can take and confuse you. Especially if you're on the outer most lane, because "stay on the left" could mean you take that ka left that's just ahead of you. Not this time though. I didn't get lost, not even once. And I feel like I deserve a lifetime achievement award. 

I'll tell you this though. Sometimes on my way there, like maybe once or twice, I was the driver on the wrong. Have you ever tried to stand or wave in front of a toddler while they're watching cartoons or when they simply don't want your stories? They ignore you. It's like they look through you by just fixing their eyes on one spot and remain unmoved. How rude. That's me as a driver when I'm on the wrong. You can hoot, make hand gestures, yell, but I won't even for a second, look at you. I'll just look ahead and continue driving. Also, for the longest time, I never used to remember that the keep left unless overtaking was a serious thing until one time I saw Bencyco really ranting about it on Twitter. I was like oooopsss! (you guys should hear Steve say OOPS. It sounds so sincere until it's funny). 

Anywayz, I made it there safely, had a really nice session teaching baking. The best part about me teaching is that I don't have to wash the dishes. That's one of the worst parts of baking for me, washing the dishes. But as a teacher, I don't do that. It makes me enjoy teaching even more. I also made it home safely even though Kamiti Road matatus gave me a number of scares. I just stayed hooting. What's the word for someone who is trigger happy, but now for hooting? That's me. Also, do you guys take speed bumps seriously? Or maybe it's because 70kmph isn't that fast or furious to begin with. 

Also, shourourt to that Twitter image of the Thika Road junction? That professor Wangari Maathai road and the other one. The one that people use to segregate markets. Most recent one was the Sol fest Vip show and the Sol fest fan show hehe. Because I see it so many times on my timeline, I now know which one to take even though maps can be misleading and tell you to continue straight. There's no straight there. It's either a left or a right. Or if you take the nearest straight, you end up on the left side yet you're meant to take the right side. Sigh. 

All this to say, kumbe this is how you guys feel driving long distances and not getting lost. Or not fearing to get stopped by police citing that your car is an unroadworthy vehicle? Hehe. Feels good. 

Have a lovely rest of the week and weekend my guys :) 

This image has saved my life.

I'm Rambling

"There, on April 12 1945, while sitting for a portrait, he collapsed and died of a cerebral haemorrhage" 

My small brother and I couldn't be more different. Despite that, on most good days, he's one of my besties (although he denies this vehemently). And no, that's not who I'm talking about in 1945. For purposes of clarity, my brother wasn't born then, and to be fair, neither was my dad or mum. Although he acts like he was alive during that period. My small brother that is. He is an old soul. For instance, this is the title of the book that he's currently reading : Post American World and the rise of the rest. I could never touch  that book. Even if just to move it, I just couldn't. It would make me fall asleep faster than a joint could. This is the title of the book I've just finished reading : City of Girls. He also could never open the first page to this book. 

The guy who died in 1945 is FDR. Okay, Franklin D. Roosevelt. The then president of the U.S.A. I was interested in this information because in the book I just read, the main character's life is set up just as WWII begins, and she briefly mentions how before the war ended, FDR died and they really mourned his death as America. My curiosity led me to question his death, so, naturally, I asked the guy who knows World History, my small brother, what happened to FDR. He wasn't so sure, but his guess was that it was Poliomyelitis. Polio. So we had to Google. 

Sometimes history stories would sound like story za jaba to me, but after the 2007 P.E.V and the COVID-19 pandemic, they're easy to believe or rather, picture. Especially those of wars and pandemics. Anyway, FDR collapsed and died while sitting for a portrait. That's not so relatable to me (a sitting president dying) because, you may be shocked to find this out, I wasn't alive when Jomo Kenyatta was collapsing in his toilet in Mombasa. (Wait, I've just googled to clarify and it explains that he died in his sleep. Where did I hear this toilet story? And am I the only one who thinks he died while in the toilet? Wait, which story do you know?)

The first sentence of this post is from one of the sites and I've only inserted it there because of how beautiful a sentence it is. 

Anyway, after finding out how FDR died, we just talked about history for a bit then went back to our books. Exciting stuff hehe. 

I discovered a thing only on Monday. Reading a book with the background of 'fireplace' playing on YouTube. There's something comforting about the windy sound of the flames then the crackling sound of the firewood. My Dad once found me in that setting and asked me what's that burning? I said it was just a video on YouTube. He said if only it was real. I avoided his eyes entirely. If I entertained him, he would have asked me to light up our fire place. That sounds fancy and cozy, only that in our house that means to light up the jiko and put it in the fireplace. Ai. I wasn't feeling that story so I didn't show any interest. Thankfully, he didn't pursue that mission any further.

There's no moral of the story to this post. Or something interesting that I have to say. To be quite honest, a number of them have been boring. I'm sorry guys. I just have to post because I know myself. Once I stop, I may stop for a while and right now I'm really trying to build my muscle of consistency in writing. Discipline and what not. I however wonder what advice a Gen Z would give me. Maybe they'd be like writing? Why writing? Just make videos on TikTok or something. Don't stress life. 

Inshallah, I'll be hanging out with a couple of them tonight. (They still make plans despite maandamano). So maybe I'll tell them about the things that I'm struggling with in life then ask for their advice, then come report it to you guys. Maybe that will be interesting...

Otherwise, stay safe my guys...

And for those asking, my Honda is still there, but I haven't touched it in a while. I was meant to wash it last week then I kept on postponing. I still haven't washed it. Maybe I will today. Or tomorrow...

Mhandaji

 

I don’t think I’m the ideal housemate. I’m anal about a lot of stuff and in the mornings especially, I can be moody. Especially on a cold morning. Last week was a particularly bad one to be my housemate because; 1. It was cold and I have the tendency to be umm, what's the word for when you feel  depressed.ish when it's cold? and 2. I was on my period. 

This time round, my period took me out. When Tupac sang hit ‘em up, he  wasn't mincing his words. He was out for blood. Especially at the end when he goes incredibly explicit. Yeah, that was my period to me this time round. I could hear it say “ain’t one of you ni**as got sickle cell or something?” when I was just about to respond that actually it’s low iron, I heard it say to me, very loudly, “well f’ you” and out I was. This time, it won. My period 10 Lizzie 0.

 

So needless to say, I was sad and tired and moody last week. I was a poor housemate. I only left my room to do the very necessary chores and I gave those chores the bare minimum effort. That includes with the conversations I engaged in around the house. However, even when the weather is beautiful and African (sunny) and I’m not on my period, I’m still not the ideal housemate.

I’m what my small bother would call, a mhandaji. I handa guys in this house. And I handa them for a number of reasons. I want us to analyze them together, you guys can tell me whether I'm being unreasonable or you're sighing in relief that we aren't housemates.

 

1.     1. Walking inside the house with shoes that you’re from wearing outside, even if you vigorously wipe them on the entrance mat.

 

2.      2. Leaving left-over food on a plate on the sink or leftover liquid say tea, in a cup on the sink.

 

 

3.      3. Leaving a teabag in a cup in the sink.

 

4.      4. Leaving a serviette or bones on a plate on the sink

 

5.      5. Leaving the door of the room I’m in open. I like closed doors. Even in the kitchen.

 

6.      6. ‘Unguzaing’ / burning food that you’re cooking for everyone.

 

7.     7.  Making a mess in the kitchen or bathroom and not cleaning up after oneself (only applies to Steve)

 

8.      8. Leaving dirty socks in the crevices of the couch.

 

9.    9.  Leaving shoes in the middle of an entrance to a room or the house. Previously I used to kick them away but I went for therapy and now gently put them on the side

10.  Hoarding many dirty dishes in one’s room then when you're looking for a bowl or side -plate, you can't find

So these are just a few of the things I handana for. And when I'm complaining about these, my tone is harsh. Which means I'm not the most popular person in that house. I understand that I also have my fair share of flaws or things that annoy people of the household. Here’s some of the annoying things I do; 

 

1.      1. Can wake up Moody Awori which happens a lot.

 

2.      2. Play my music loudly especially when getting ready

 

3.      3. Have a favorite cup, plate, bowl and glass that I expect nobody else to use. I bought them for me.

 

4.      4. Use the blender, hand mixer and stand mixer a lot, all are very loud.

 

5.      5. Talk very loudly especially if I’m in a good mood.

 

6.      6. Talk and laugh very loudly on phone especially when talking to my girls and a story is very funny or juicy.

 

7.      7. Handa people for the reasons aforementioned

 

8.      8. Open doors with a lot of vigour, aka fujo.

 

9.     9.  Kumbe sometimes my open hair sheds when I comb it then I don’t catch every strand as I clean up. Oopsie.

 

110. I can't figure out the 10th one. I'm almost perfect hehe.

 

 

Anyhow, as I’m approaching 30, I’m thinking a lot about moving out to a space of my own. There, the only person to handa is going to be me. And I won't feel like an a** about it. Plus I won't do things that annoy me lol. 

 

Are you the perfect housemate?

Also I'm just not ready for the July weather. I'm okay if global warming makes the sun stay this month and the next. 

Also, shout out to all my girls for being the sunshine in my life. Love y'all to death.

Ma's sweet tooth

 

Now I get it. How inconveniencing it can be to leave for work in the morning, then just before noon, get a call from your child’s school that they are unwell and you have to take them to the hospital. This is the early 2000’s in Nairobi, pre-superhighway so we can’t even talk about the expressway. That means as an adult Nairobian, who works far from home, a good number of hours in your day are spent on the road, certainly not in the musician's way. But bless my mother, the few times when she got those calls from my primary school, she would come for me.

I remember her  coming for me and taking me to the hostol (nang’o my Luo peeps). On our way back home, we’d pass by the supermarket and as a ritual she would get me Delmonte juice or Dairy Fresh and a slice of Swiss Roll. She introduced me to Swiss rolls, and for the longest time, that was our thing.

 

As a young child, I have vivid memories of watching her make banana bread in the kitchen using a food processor and then letting my brothers and I lick the batter off the paddle fixtures. We would always fight over it. Kids are almost always fighting over something. She didn’t know it then, neither did I, that her simple act of making banana bread with so much love was inspiring a whole career: mine.

 

There’s a supermarket which we frequent with Ma, that has a section of desserts and on the wall it's written 'Temptation Corner'. She is always tempted by it. By always, I mean just that. Always. Btw, I'm glad to report that she received her slice of cake the other day, that Steve didn't get to it. So alikula both story and cake.

Perhaps you can already tell from this that Ma identifies as a sweet tooth hehe. (Okay and as a good Christian pentecostal lady. Added that for her incase she ever reads this blog) Anywayz. When I started my baking business and had to name it, it was a no-brainer for me that I’d either name it after her or by something inspired by her. Sweet Tooth was what was most obvious but there are 54 thousand other businesses called that. Because I’m Luhya, you guys already know that we love our Kiswahili, ndiposa I translated sweet tooth to Jino Tamu, ilimradi the essence of it being inspired by her remains.

Running that business has been one the most challenging things I’ve done in my 20’s for a number of reasons. I'll definitely get into those with you guys some day. On the flip side, it's had its fare share of exciting moments. Till today, I still enjoy the act of baking; measuring the ingredients and mixing the batter. Pouring the batter into the baking dish then inserting it in the oven. (Wait, do I sound like Aunty wa keki? Damn.) You get the drift. A business is however more than that and involves washing a lot of dirty dishes if you're solo. 

A few years back, I used to teach people how to bake, the innocent act of it. And I used to have a lot of fun. It would take me back to the days in the kitchen watching Ma bake for us and being amused by how the cake would rise in the oven then settle into a beautiful golden brown color and come out smelling heavenly and tasting really yummy. Over the years, I've developed my recipes especially so that they don't use so much sugar. Some cakes can chock you from being too sweet which takes away from the experience of enjoying a treat. Americans are wild when it comes to sugar and really everything else lol.

In short, I'm back to teaching again, and I wanna share the fun. If you're interested or know someone who's interested, let them hit me up. Especially Gen Z cause Gen Z are fun to be around. Haha. But even baby boomers are welcome.