I am a planner. Not just in the sense of planning for my next meal or break. I am literally a planner since I have been training as an Economic planner. As a planner, we do projections for up to the end of the century, plan for 1, 5, 10, 22 years from now. In short, we worry for everybody. We like getting ahead of time.
It is not surprising that I carry this same quality to my life by worrying a lot. I worry about what I will put on tomorrow at work, on Saturday when going out, on Sunday at church, what I will eat for dinner or breakfast tomorrow, what I will be doing 5 years from now. What about 30 years from now? I worry about everything and I tell you, it is exhausting. Both mentally and physically.
Today, while I was walking to work, I was worrying about the town service I will board or I think the amount of airtime I had on my phone, what I would tell so and so…..well it was about a lot of things. As usual, I was exhausting my brain even before getting to work. I started watching my steps, how I was putting one foot forward at a time. I challenged myself to just focus on my next step and nothing else. I did exactly that for the next two minutes. I felt the tension on my muscles subsiding, my shoulders relaxing, my mind freed, a smile on my face. I felt so good.
It is then that I made up my mind to adopt “crossing that bridge when I get there” type of mindset.
After all, Jesus asked His disciples in Mattew 6:27
Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?
I am not a big fan of the Swahili proverb “lisemwalo lipo, kama halipo laja” translated to “Whatever is being said is true and if it is not yet true it’s about to be true,” especially when it comes to rumors. But unfortunately, that makes me just one among the minority of the population. Even more so women.
A lady friend told me that someone bad mouthing a girl and spreading malicious rumors about her is either a man who can’t have her or a girl who can’t be her. Which I fully agree with.
What is even sadder is that no matter who started the rumors, whether it’s from the mouth of a boy who can’t have her or a girl who can’t be her, it’s always us girls who do the spreading. And we say it with so much conviction that anybody around us, even the victim herself might start believing it.
We rarely stop to think what if I was her? How would I feel if this was going around about me? What if she was my sister? What if she was my mother? What if she was my daughter? Would I want this to go around about her? How would I feel?
Words are powerful. It takes someone who has been a victim of malicious rumors to know just how powerful and destructive they are. And it takes a really strong person to rise above them. Therefore, the next time you open your mouth to bad mouth someone, stop and think!
Let us stop giving meaning to the common misconception that women are their own worst enemies!
Recently, I felt the urge to talk to a certain beggar I usually see on the main street of my home town. On a hot Saturday morning, after stepping out of the supermarket, I walked over to him and sat next to him. I had it all planned out in my head but once we exchanged greetings, I found myself speechless.
I started fidgeting with my bag before blurting out “why do you sit here?”
“Because I have to get food or because I am poor.” Something similar to that.
In my young mind, I thought asking him about his family was the appropriate next question. So I did exactly that. In a piteous voice, he told me all his family depended on him. I had nothing else to ask or say so I made my apologies for the intrusion, lots of them, deposited some money on his hand and left.
Even though deep down I knew it was no fault of his to be a beggar, I found myself quiet annoyed with him for feeling sorry for himself.
It hit me then that the couple of times I have used self-pity (lost mother card) to get what I want (discounts), I must have annoyed the salespersons . I made a mental note to never do it again.
I bought the outfit in subject one Saturday afternoon from a woman in a second hand market. It was one of those days when I did not plan to buy anything in particular. I had been in the house for long and I decided to go out for a stroll when I stumbled upon a woman selling clothes at Ksh 50(half a dollar). They were that cheap because they were rejectees: you know those outfits that remain after people have picked out the best or decent ones.
I uninterestedly ran my eyes through the clothes and I was almost leaving when this black and white one piece, sort of jumpsuit caught my attention. I love monochrome, so naturally, I picked it up and tried it on. The saleswoman told me it looks good and as much I don’t trust the opinion of sales people, I trusted hers because I felt good in it. It was unique, edgy and just so me. I paid the Ksh 50 and happily walked home with my ‘sort of jumpsuit’.
Like a normal human being, I couldn’t wait to see myself in my gorgeous sort of jumpsuit. After washing and ironing it, a week later, I wore it with my black pair of sort of oxford flats and went to town to run some errands. That is when I took the photo. A couple of weeks later, my brother, who is younger than me by one and a half years and is a model other than being a student, came home from school for a short holiday. Excitedly, I showed him the photo of me in my sort of jumpsuit and he immediately rubbished it.
“What is this you are wearing?”
“It is a jumpsuit”
“I know a lot about fashion and jumpsuits and that is not it. It is ugly!”
That did not dampen my spirits though. On Monday, at the office, I showed a colleague the photo and asked him what he thought of it.
“You don’t go far from home whenever you wear it, do you?”
Next was my movie supplier. I was sitting in his shop while he was getting me my movies when I asked him what he thought of it.
“Well, it is…uum…different”
That was it! I had to defend my precious sort of jumpsuit.
I put the photo of me in it as my phone and laptop wall paper!
Ps: the original photo is actually good quality but it can’t attach in its original size and the cropping lowers the quality. I don’t know why.
My neighbor’s boy Richie, quite an interesting, playful and full of life little fellow he is. He is always running around, screaming with laughter. Boy, he has a hearty laughter and a beautiful toothless smile that is akin to children his age. He is just so adorable.
Yesterday evening, we met while he was going to the shops with his nanny. After several hi-5s and our usual laughter filled chit-chat , just from nowhere, he asked me “uko na katoto?” Translated to English, “Do you have a small baby?” It was a simple yes or no question that caught me completely off guard.
I don’t know what prompted him to ask me that question, but whatever it is, that innocent yet curious look on his face while asking it made my day.