Did you miss me?

This is just a very good selfie.

I was on a roll, I dont really know why I stopped writing but I was on a roll for a second there. I let other people actions affect who I am. I have basically become what people want me to be . I have forgotten who I am and what I love. Not just writing but most of the things in my life.

I am emotional person and I really let what other people do or think of me affect how I lead my life. Infact the slightest disapproval from anyone with either lead me to shrink or what I call “fake depressed” or change myself completely. Like how someone mentioned how they dont like dangling earing in my first year and I literally wore stud earrings all of my campus life.

But what is life if its not learning and unlearning. I do have a lot of unlearning to do. I think I lost myself a long time ago. I have been leading my life according to people’s comments and memes and what you expect me to be like in this stage of my life. This has made me into a bitter person. A bitter, angry and sad person. I am sad all the time. Even when I am laughing I am sad. Even when I am with people I am lonely. Lonely because I am being fake. I am being what you want me to be. I am not who I truly am because… well lets face it , I have forgotten who I am. Forgive me if it takes me a little while to rediscover who Muthoni is…but that is the path we are on.


I may seem like the girraffe on the right, but what I really am is the giraffe on the left.

I am afraid.

Im afraid that I will not live up to what you expect of me. I am afraid that if I dont do that thing I said I would do people will call me lazy. I hear that word lazy alot in my head. I hear it because a nigga said it to me in anger when he broke up with me. I am afraid that I am exactly what he said I was.

I am afraid of new opportunities. That first step is the hardest for me. My first day at work is just me dealing with anxiety. My first day in a new relationship and I am already seeing how this will not work. If I have somewhere to go I literally have to drag my feet out the door.

I am afraid of grasshoppers. The thing with grasshoppers is you never know where they will hop to next. And that uncertainty is where it is at. I am afraid that they will crawl into my nostrils and eat my brain.

I am not afraid that I will not make it in life, just that I will make it last. That I will get married last among my friends. That i will buy that car last. It has happened before, so what would stop it from happening again.

I am afraid of going to hospital. I know for a fact that the doctor will tell me I have something. Something that he will not be able to treat. I am afraid because I have seen those that I love die in that hospital bed. So instead I google those symptoms.

I am afraid of forgetting. I am afraid that i will be eighty and will not be able to tell be my grandchildren stories of how I was the life of the party when I was young. I am afraid that I will not remember all the imprtant dates. I am afraid that something that is important to me now will not register in my head years to come. I am afraid that I will forget that song that got me through my breakup in ’08. If I really think about it now, what was that song?

I am afraid of leaving my comfort zone. These four walls keep me sane. I know all the demons here. But nothing will happen if I stay here. I have do get out albeit how afraid I am.

9:26 am

brocken heart

It was 9.26 am that day when my heart broke. Technically He had sent the message at 9.21 am so I had saved my self from five minutes of pain. We were switching to whatsapp and the wifi was down ,so I had to physically go to the shop and buy credit to recharge my phone data, the ghetto. So when I actualy received the texts and image , it was 9.26 am. I opened the conversation and gave it one 360° look, you know, mwono mmoja and I immediately knew this was bad news. I was right. It was not going to be butterflies and smiles. This was a rocky patch. A deal breaker. The future was looking a little bleak. Atleast the future she thought she had with him. And she was only beginning to love him.

The hearbreak at 9.26pm!


What is “good tea” to you?

Chai ni maziwa _ Mso

Chai ni sukari_ wanjiru Ndung’u

Chai ni mpishi _kush

Chai nikuchomeka ulimi _Muthoni

Chai ni majani _ Kuria Nyaikamba

Chai ni chai _Moureen

If I have learnt anything in my twenty five years is how to make tea. The kawaida tea, not the bouģee one with cinnamon and what not that you serve to impress someone’s son. Here’s the million dollar recipe: one part water, two part milk, let the tea leaves boil in for a few minutes. Consider your in-laws impressed!

My father is a drunk.

Drink responsibly.

I am twenty two now. I am finally realizing what my mother really saw when she chose to leave my dad. He saw a drunk. A drunk who was stuck in the past. When all they could do is drink and have fun. So he never really got his life together. I mean he was a romantic when they were young , he showed her a good time and took her out to all the fun places (she has told me lots of stories). But thirteen years in, you want your husband to atleast have settled down. Settled in to life of a father. A father who came in at 7.00 , who are we kidding 7.00 is too early but we get the gist. A father who was present. A dad who actually took the time.

But that he wasn’t. He loved his drink more than he loved his girls. He is trying to make up for it now but I can still smell the whiskey he talks. And he doesn’t really know me so it’s all awkward. He invites me over to some of his parties, maybe he thinks that is cool. But they talk about women and sex and I don’t really know what to say or when to leave.

I get very self conscious when I’m drinking with my friends. I keep thinking how I could turn out like him.When they ask me about my father… I say all the nice things I wish he was, but what I really want to say is that my father is a drunk.



This photo has nothing to do with this piece but let us all eat with eyes

I recently found my Jesma report card. That means my results for 2008. God I’m old shit. Jesma used to be hard you guys. I was at second position. I was a very smart student. Good grades. Well groomed. I did musicals both in primary and in highschool. (I am going to be tooting my horn so buckle up) I played hockey and did Spoken word. I’d would be great in swimming if I did not fear water so much. Even through campus I was kaodo smart. I mean I did get a suplementary but that is because I lived a little. Church, I was a good girl all things considered. A little naughty but no one is judging. Nonetheless I enjoyed the structure. You know…get this at this stage then get this other thing next. Do this and dont do that. This structure is what I knew.  It’s what had been drilled into me my whole life.

Life is not so black and white and it hits you hard if you are not prepared.  Prepared for the real life. When life kicks you to the wind and its flappy flappy little birdy from here . If you are reading this young person life is not systematic with structures. Maybe for some people but not for everyone. Sometimes you break a leg and don’t get to live out your football dream. Sometimes you get pregnant at eighteen and that is okay too. Sometimes your parents become angels and you have to educate your siblings. Life is a roller coaster,live it. Do not be anxious about the future, but be prepared. Learn a skill or four. Learn to be with people. Learn to find opportunities. Be honest. Forgive to yourself . Call your grandma. Be sharp. Be kind to yourself and others. Pray. You’ll be okay. You are smart. You passed the Jesma exam.


She is strong.

She went through the worst but she is still here.

She lost her whole world and she now she has to be the man.

She was handed a heavy load but she carries it so well.

She has lost her happiness but she still hopes.

She has found her step but it was not easy.

Maybe it will be okay but she is not too sure.



Guest Blogger: Muthoni Kuria

She is a lover. She loves hard. That is the way she has always been, loving as a puppy does- devoted, playful, trusting. She still remembers her first love. She had fallen hard for this one. She was only thirteen but she felt the deepest of love for him. She remembers […]