Panacea

Hakuna kitu mbaya kama deni ya pombe!

Don't mind this, its completely unrelated to whatever I am writing, it was a comment a drunk made as I walked past him. I recently got acquinted with the word, panacea, after listening to hon. Milly Odhiambo during an interview on #PressPass. For a moment I thought she was speaking Luo, later I found out it was Engluo.

It's been a while since I wrote. I blame the change, I feel like it drained my creativity. So if this piece doesn't turn out as good, you know where to point the finger. There are moments I get struck with inspiration, I quickly pull out my phone and put it down so that I will build something from it, but much later I just look at it and there is nothing to construct. 

Panacea is a remedy for all difficulties or diseases (I know you didn't bother to look it up). Let me use it in a sentence; Kenya needs a panacea. Where the hell am I going with this? I'm just rambling and it's worrying. Maybe creativity fades at times and I need a panacea to bring me back. Or maybe I need to go to a happy place, peaceful and I will get my mojo back. 

The best stories are those where you recreate a situation in vivid detail, such that a reader feels the presence of the niche around them. So here we go. 

In slow but sure succession the rain drops hit the same spot, over and over again with sheer determination to ensure splash erosion. I was sitted at a paneless window staring outside and taking in a deep breathe of the sweet smell of loam. I could almost taste it. At age 13, you never have purpose, seeing the next day and running around is all great. I was in class 7 for the second year now, not because I failed, maybe I did a little bit, but I choose to repeat the class because I was scared. I wasn't sure I was ready for KCPE, so when it was suggested that I stay and improve my grades, I said yes. I think it was one of the best decisions I ever made. 

The rain  made us miss a lesson and such moments were heavenly in school. We later would cluster in a corner of the class and talk about sex, this discussion would probably be led by one who had done it. Then we would switch to movies and at such moments, I would totally be lost listening to the narrator, they did it so well  you felt like you were watching. 

And that is my point today. Being lost in thought. I enjoy that. Moments that get me lost in thought. That's what I will write about. Art has that ability. Not drawn or sculpted kind of art but, writen. Have you ever read a novel, so good that you felt like you knew the people in the story? That happens to me a lot, it makes me reluctant to finish the story because I feel like I have been part of a fictious family and what am I going to do without them. Well written movies have the same effect too.

I want to take you guys for a ride. A ride deep in your own thoughts. Recently, well not that recent maybe two months ago, we were having a discussion about women and how they would go for a rich guy over one strugging with bills. And it was a well balanced conversation, because we had each gender well represented. So boy child, a pittyful way of describing a poor full grown man, made his complaint, the defendant boldly sat across on a spinning chair, there was no judge. 

So this is how it went down; How comes men are judged based on the depth of their pocket? No one wants to be poor but we make an effort to be more stable than we usually are, plus women nowadays are so empowered, most claim they can do better what men can do, then why still judge a man by his ability to provide? Why not work together to achieve a comfortable life? 

Complaint was made; he walked down from the stand as the lady replaced him (not literally guys)

She spoke with less viguor but assurance; You know it is funny how men look at all women as gold diggers. I don't deny that women go for money but I blame it all on men. We judge you based on your financial ability. But it is not as worse as what you judge us for. Men judge women according to their looks and curves. Something they had no say in. You don't make a call to have good looking parents concieve you, so that you turn out beautiful, it is something you have no absolute control in, you are a creation of nature as men are and what is worse you cannot change it. But, your financial status is something you can change. So men stop complaining and work hard, how else are we going to mantain our beauty without money? 

As she walked down the stand, everybody was quiet. She was definately right. The ladies were so happy clapping while the boychild had his tail tucked, this was a profound defeat. We came in guns blazing, assured of a win but now it all feels like an exact replica of the battle of the bastards and we are Ramsay and his army. 

I feel if continue, I'll ruin the thought. I will leave it there and let it sink in.

What are your thoughts? Feel free to share.