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As I leave Eldoret.

All journeys begin by leaving one place and venturing to another.

Location; Eldoret (The city of champions)

Status; Leaving tomorrow

Mood; I feel Proud.

Eldoret Alliance francais. The institution in Eldoret helped me better my french. CA VA? ha ha

 

Eldoret. The city has been home to me since the year 2013. Or at least as close to home as a place can be. You see, when you have no place to call your own then home is the place most of your cloths are. And for me that has been Eldoret. I arrived in Eldoret way back in September, 2013; a green boy with a vast ego, with my share and a half of self-confidence. I leave, somewhat the wiser than I came, my ego still intact (if a bit frayed on the edges). And my self-confidence augmented still. (Sometimes, when you own nothing, pride is all you have to call your own.)

All in all I am a better man. My outlook on life is a tad deep. My ambitions undimmed. My future, clearly defined. Eldoret took a green boy and molded, hardened, congealed his abilities together with his talents, his fears coagulated, amalgamated and compacted till the whole was better than the former. Till I became a savory concoction of unrestrained ambition and stubborn resilience. I have Eldoret to thank for that. I am bent, but all together not broken.

 

In Eldoret (At a friend’s house) I taught myself how to play the guitar.

 

The notion everything happens for a reason never did have much meaning to me till I lived in Eldoret. Today, in this moment; I am a believer. Everything happens because it must and as it was preordained, the best we can do is make the most of every circumstance. Dancing in the rain and all…Capisce?

Why do I say this. I came to Eldoret for the sole purpose of enrolling to a  university and pursuing a bachelor’s degree in Hotel and Hospitality management. No sooner had I arrived than things started going haywire in whichever way… the ultimate exemplification of Murphy’s law. The place I was to live in (At the house of a hostile aunt and cold cousins.)  was located 10 kilometers from the campus…at least. That meant commuting to school everyday. This would no doubt require  monetary ubiquity. Permit me to say I had not the slightest idea where this money would come…certainly not from my denuded pockets. Next in order, the fee statement for my chosen course resembled a rich man’s cheque. A very rich man. I am not a one for delusions. I knew even then, that I wasn’t going to be able to afford the tuition fees! However, that in itself wasn’t going to disparage me…a man in the desert accepts whatever waters they receive irrespective of the giver or the consequences…

So I began my studies. I stayed to myself most of the time…why? I knew that to make friends would be to lie. Everyone was soon going to leave me behind when I was forced out of the institution. So No friends. No friends meant silence…silence is dull…but it is honest. I took it in stride and soldiered on. Later on it emerged that I was tolerated, put up with. I had become to my aunt and family, (And without my knowledge,) a burden. In the blink of an eye I wasn’t the welcome relation anymore. Meal times became frosty, cold as brittle ice. Anytime I entered the house smiles and stories became silence, scowls and frowns. (More on that some other day.)

 

Dancing for Blaze In Eldoret west campus.

 

 

 

Further on, during my second year first semester. My tuition fee areas had compiled so much I had to discontinue my course. My fee statement was starting to resemble a parliamentarian’s pay check. Life was becoming bleak indeed. I decided to venture into free lancing… But that wasn’t a piece of cake either. Clients were more interested with freelancers who had weighty credentials and hours of experience. Kind of leads one to wonder where I would amass the credentials and experience if I wasn’t hired in the first place. I soldiered on… hours of rejected proposals, exacting work and meager pay soon became a nightmare I couldn’t condone. Then I realized my mistake…I was stressing myself and wasting my abilities writing for individuals, none of whom appreciated my talent. Why write for people I don’t even know when I can write for myself.

My professional free-lance look.

I abandoned freelancing and decided to write a book. That wasn’t so easy as it seems. It required hours upon hours of painstaking effort. Writing isn’t glamorous when you are a none-entity. It is lonely and tiring and disparaging. You wouldn’t believe the lengths I went.

I leave a better man.

My life in Eldoret was a roller coaster. One of pain and struggle… one of betrayal and loneliness. Eldoret had its good times too, there are days it treated me well.And of course I will forever remember it as the place I wrote and finished my first book….I survive. Like I do best.

In the end what matters is the person you want to be. Nothing else. I have accomplished much, learned a lot.  I came to Eldoret a man. I leave a better man.

 

Ghetto University

Where there is no struggle, there is no Strength. (Oprah Winfrey)

The society breeds two types of people, the fortunate and the less fortunate. It is the latter that this article addresses.

It remains ironic that human beings invented the word humane to mean behavior expected of a man to his fellow man. Yet this word gets misinterpreted every day. Is it humane if a billionaire donates a smidgen of their fortune to the poor?
That’s beside the point, so ask yourself. What then is the point? Is there really a point?

Is there a purpose?  an explanation to human suffering, a rationale that qualifies disease and poverty?
We suffer, we go hungry, we steal, we indulge in excesses aimed at earning us our next meal at the expense of a fellow man. Yet if we refrain, we go hungry, because such is the ghetto university, survival is only for the fittest.

 

What crime did we commit, what God did we wrong.
The ghetto university, yes, that’s where we found ourselves, a place one learns to live a day at a time.
An abyss of disease and struggle, where children have to grow so fast or fall, swept by the river of poverty that floods like a persistent herald of misery.
A place where every day is a lesson, that when everything else is stripped away…
The false togetherness of friends, the dubious empathy of relations… We realize we are truly alone. Our only companion the burn of hunger in our stomachs.

Yet we plod on. Every minute and every second we pull out our feet out of the mud and step by step. We move ahead. The ghetto university won’t claim us, the struggles that we face won’t stifle our dreams.

The ghetto is our reality, but We are strong.

A man

Who is a man?

This question I have asked myself times with no end, for days I have sat and pondered this mystery, my concern being, to discover how one qualifies to be called a man.
Is it a standard to rally to, Is there a criteria that measures the mettle of boys and as a result elevates them to the status of man hood.

We have been led to believe that a man is an adult human male, but I digress. Surely age alone should not be enough to earn one this most noble of tittles. Surely not muscle or height, nor even wealth and achievement.

What then could it be, how best can we evaluate a man.
Should it be by the breadth of his chest? Should it be evidenced by the appearance of pubic hair? Should we perhaps measure a man, by the size of his genitals? On a light note, If that is the case, then I qualify. Should we perchance, measure a man by the number of ladies he has intercourse with? All the above perhaps are a part of manhood, essentially they are important. But I for one, is of the opinion that they alone, do not, should not, qualify a person to be a Man. The name, man, surely embodies more than that.

Therefore, I question again. Who then is a man?

I thought deep and pondered long, and because at the end of the day, we can lie to all but ourselves. I came up with the following.

A man mustn’t necessarily be an adult male, or a person of legal age. Manhood should be measured by one’s determination to do the best they can with what they have. It should be measured by courage, the ability to rise above discrimination, to rise above circumstances. And in the end, rise back from setbacks. Manhood should be measured by one’s ability to handle rejection and heartbreak. It should be measured by the goodness of a heart. Loving self, and loving others.

It should be measured by honesty. A person’s ability to face the consequences of his choices and actions. Manhood should be humility, the ability to accept correction.
To know that one cannot always be right. To be able to listen to others.
Being a man is a life style.

So look deep within yourself. And ask. Are you worthy?
Are you a man? Or are you just pretending to be one.

Hallucinations and reality

1272392291459581989 What is an hallucination?…
The most probable answer applicable is, an hallucination is fantasy, something imagined, the mind’s visual representation of an event or object that is not at that moment existing or present.

We can even argue that hallucinations are the exact opposite of reality,the vice versa of happenstance.

And so I asked myself, what then is reality?The answer that came to my mind almost immediately was, reality is life as we perceive it, reality has in itself a component of that which is witnessed, that which is real.

But pause and consider for a second, hypothetically speaking, what if, we in general are hallucinating.
what if reality is imagined, what if we perceive reality the way our minds want us to, not the way it really is.
A mad man doesn’t for one second think he is mad, furthermore, we are all born and inducted into a pre-concieved society with existing notions and expectations.

What if it is all a ruse, a cover to something much bigger than ourselves.

I read once that, and i quote.. “If we give up what we are,we become what we can be.”
Also, scientists are forever telling us that we only use a small capacity of our brain.
And so i sat down and self consulted, then I came up with these assumptions.

Assuming that an hallucination is imagined, and reality is the preconceived notion of society, maybe we are all mad, or better still, maybe we live in an hallucination.

Perchance, if we can rise above our petty version of reality, we can become supreme beings, perhaps, we can even be deities.

Food for thought.

Humanity, aware or inanimate

“Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.”

Have you asked yourself this question, what is our purpose of existence, what is our position in the scheme of things. Is there a reason behind our existence, or are we just pawns in some great galactic game. To be born, live miserably short lives, most of it spent in unfruitful pursuit of happiness, then die and be forgotten.

Have you, like me, ever wondered, if indeed human beings are sentient, are we really awake and aware, or are we programmed beings, placed and destined to lord over the less intelligent animals, cursed with the urge for self actualization, a figment of our imagination. This i say, because, the most common human trait the world over is conformity, wanting to fit it.

Humanity at its most basic and fundamental state is flawed, the society segmented into classes according to wealth and possession, the richest being the upper class, the poorest the lower class. Every one is born and fit in, according to circumstances which at the very least, is none of their fault. Growing up, every one is made to do things in a way that is NORMAL and ACCEPTED by society. “Go to school.” why? because every one goes to school, it is expected. ” Dress this way and not that way.” Because that is how PEOPLE dress.

Nobody questions these things, but maybe its time we did, maybe its time for questions. Maybe its time to challenge the status quo.

I choose long ago, never to conform and always to question the existing state of affairs. Conformity is the death of progress. Do not look to fit it, but instead, aim to stand out. Then maybe, just maybe, we will be more than we are. We can be better.

My closing statement is this, we should always aim to improve, until our good is better, and our better is best.

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