HIMYM (Acronym)

My guy we just hit the jackpot!

This is a story of a young lad called Trevor. Precious to her mother. Her major purpose in life. Like any mammal she loves keeping him close just to be sure he's safe. Every foreign touch worries her to the core;

Did she wash her hands? 

Breathe away from him not towards him!

You are holding him the wrong way you'll hurt him.

Extra protective, isn't she?

I write it as one among the gifts to commemorate her upcoming birthday for she has been a dear friend to me. We have learnt alot from each other. But I'll have to admit she has been more of a teacher to me than I to her.

Before I talk about Trevor. I want to jade you with a silly fable of how I met his mother. (HIMYM) 

It was a chilly evening. The trees swayed at the wind's will. The same way worshipers would, with arms stretched and eyes closed. Passionately singing a common hymn.

Ni wewe ni wewe Baba, ni wewee!  . . . .

Wee hours of the night,  say 7 to 8pm, found me indoors curved up on my metallic bed. The kind with wire-mesh that eats up your matress, which sounds disquieting to sleep on but my sleep is like reggae. Nobody can stop it. It hits like a wave and in seconds am transiting to dreamland.

This paricular night. Fate was in action. Everything that I did that led me to this moment was unlike me. Personally I abhor politics, especially campus politics.   I only considered it because I had a clear schedule. The task was to help a candidate campaign in the ladies hostels. (Another key factor to my consideration) Her room was the jackpot. Long story short that is how I met her. At first her warm hugs and pretty face were my favourite things about her. But later on as we grew to know each other I learnt she was brilliant upstairs. Walking with her around campus got me some good deal of credit. 

Eeeh Marvo maaan!  Chukua uzito eeiish  . jana nlikucheki na mrembo mwingine eeeish. 

And we have been friends since then. 

Back to Trevor. Nothing beats looking into a child's eyes. The innocence is heartwarming. You look into their eyes once and you are swallowed into their world. Probably why we end up speaking gibberish; abujubuju. When I first saw Trevor I was mesmerized. Those innocent eyes felt like they were cutting through my soul and seeing all my sins. I felt vulnerable. But that's how babies make you feel. They make you want to do right by them. They make you want to become a better version of yourself.

I wonder what language babies mentally speak before they actually learn to talk. What really goes on in those tiny heads? 
They are always curious. And so was Trevor he made it really hard for me to take pictures, all he wanted was to grab the camera. Maybe he'll be a photographer. With a sixth sense of art. Because photography is not just about taking pictures, anyone can do that, recognizing how a picture should be taken is an art. 

Then again with his looks, Trevor could choose to be ahead the camera. A model.  The lad is handsome, he should probably be used in pampers Ads. One thing for sure is that, tears will be shed from the ladies who yearn his for his compassion.

One morning when running I realized something. (Yeah!  I run nowadays. For almost two weeks now. It was hard when I started but got easier every other day.) Trevor sure does has a long bumpy road to go. First things first, he needs to learn to walk first. Then how to ride a bike. That comes with bruises or if you're lucky some scars to brag about.

I got this scar last holiday when my uncle Marvin took us to Tsavo National Park. A lion charged at us and we ran. I was the fastest. But I stumbled on a rock and fell.

Then one kid would shout; Uongo!

And with a challenge Trevor would respond;

Have you ever been to Tsavo?

No

Then just shut up!

Second Trevor will learn how to talk so he can know how to demand things from mommy. Especially when she's out shopping. Mum nataka hii! When she denies you the gift you cry in public and make her look like a bad mother. Then she will buy it. Gaining speech comes with a tone questions. He'll want to know everything about everything.

Mum mbona sina sister mdogo kama akina nanii?

Huyo mtu kwa Tv huoga kweli? Sijawaimwona akitoka..

Then mum will teach him how to read time. But it will be so confusing. When asked to check time he'd come back responding; "kijiti nono iko kwa three alafu konde iko kwa eight, ile konde kabisa nmeacha ikizunguka"

First day at school will be disastrous. He will cry and cling onto mommy, wondering why she would leave her own child and walk away smiling. The tears  will dry upon realizing she is not coming back and little Trevor will start making friends. 

I wonder what nick name your friends will call you. Trevoh, Trevi or maybe they'll stick to Trevor because it's simple enough. Not complex like Abscondita. A lughya girl. Who we have to call Absko or Abu. Some names are such a mouthful you can't call out on someone during emergency situations.

"Absco-ndita heeeeelp! Absko..  . . . . ndiiiiita heeeeeelp!  Ab..." You could choke  on it.

The addictive phase will come next. Cartoons will be bae. But then mommy will come and switch off the tv and send little Trevor to bed. He will rebell and loose then be angry at mum for it, lazily walk to the bedroom and think "am not even sleepy. Why is she forcing me to sleep?" Not long after he'll sleep and wake up hungry.

Tout ensemble, I know Trevor will turn out well. A respectful and honorable man. Why?  Because I know the woman raising him is a good person and a great mother. As I had mentioned earlier she taught me alot in this few years we have known each other.

Left foot, right foot. Repeat. Acclelerate, decelerate. Deep breathes. Sun rising on the horizon. A cold breeze cooling off sweat before it trickles. Cockrels crowing their beaks off. These are my observations during my routine morning runs. 

Every morning there is this guy going to work,  we have to run past him. The only difference is the points at which we pass him. Sometimes he makes good progress, but most times he is late. The constant is that we always have to pass by him.

I worked this into an analogy. In life we all share the same road. The speed we move at ensures our progress. You could have fallen far behind but with hard work and endurence you get to where you want to be. Running also taught me perseverance. It requires mental stability even more than the muscle. When you convince yourself you can't do it you'll stop. One needs to build internal toughness.

Happy Birthday Jane.