Rising Star

Dear Diary, Today, i am reminded of a friend who used and still tells me how wrapped up I am in peoples opinion about me. He usually says "The problem with you Brendah is that you mind a lot about what people will say about what you that you risk your whole life being lived by them." May be, i did not understand it then. Lately, I have been thinking a lot  about that statement. How many times have I stopped myself from doing something i wanted to do so much because of the 'so called' people who, I assume, are looking at me to criticize me and point a finger at me and say "Surely, not you Brendah. We expect so much from you." While carrying out a profile interview about any person who has made it in life, the last question they are usually asked goes like this "If you were given another chance to live, would you have done things differently." If i was to be asked that question today, I would say 'Yes'. I would have done things differen

Dear Diary, Since i started making sense of the world, i have noticed one neglected but very important thing in life. Call it influence from our African culture but i commend the Ugandan culture for, at least, trying to practice it publicly. Dear Diary, i am talking of  Public Display of Affection or PDA. It does not matter how macho or strong of character we are, it does not matter what the African culture has dictated to us, men and women need to be shown love and affection. While i was studying in Uganda, i was shocked to be told that hugging and sometimes a little peck is a common thing to them. Not so in Kenya! You can imagine my discomfort when every time i would meet my classmates, male or female, they would give me a bear hug. With time, i got used to it and even felt comfortable and liked it. It made me feel warm and appreciated. It affirmed my value as a human being. At least, through the hugs, i was being told, 'we know you', 'we know your value'. It gr

Dear Diary, I have never felt like this before, in fact, i do not remember ever feeling like this before. It is the worst feeling and i wouldn't want to go through it again. It almost felt like the universe had conspired against me. You see, Dear Diary,in the last few days, i have lost my convictions, my zest for life and everything that used to make me tick. It feels like i am surrounded by a deep darkness or like i have been thrown in a very dark abyss. Dear Diary, my house, which has always been my source comfort has rejected me, the job i love has turned its back on me. Some of the friends i treasure seem not to bring any light in this darkness, prayer has ceased to comfort me and church has lost its edge. Dear Diary, for the past four days i took time off work, friends and the world and i have cried to God, yes, literal crying to God because i could not find words to express the feeling in my heart; a heart-wrenching feeling. It almost felt like my heart was being remo

I never said that I would give you silver or gold or that you would never feel the fire or shiver in the cold, But i did say, you'd never walk through this world alone. And I did say, don't make this world your home. I didn't say that fear wouldn't find you in the night, or that loneliness was something you'd never have to fight, But I did say, I'd be right there by your side. And I did say, I'll always help you fight. 'Cause you know I made a promise that I intend to keep, My grace will be sufficient in every time of need, My love will be the anchor that you can hold on to. This is the promise. This is the promise, I've made to you.' I never said that friends would never turn their backs on you, or that the world around you wouldn't see you as a fool, But i did say, like Me, that you'll surely be despised. And I did say, My ways confound the wise. I didn't say you'd never taste the bitter kiss of death or have

Anne toyed with the idea of skipping Belinda’s birthday party altogether but, on second thought, she decided to go. She did not want to upset her closest friend and besides, she had already promised her that she would attend. She dragged her tired body out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. Lately, her life seemed to have turned uneventful since she broke up with Frank six months ago. Just the passing thought of him made Anne’s heart wrench with pain. She had loved him so much and missed all they did together. For once in a very long time, as she sat in the bathtub, she allowed her mind to drift away to the very first time that they met. She had traveled to her rural home that weekend but on her way back she’d been stranded at the Old Taxi Park because there were no more vehicles going to Mukono. Though it was a bit late, vehicles usually commuted to and fro Mukono up to as late as midnight. So, when she alighted at the Park and realized that some of the vehicles had been

  Miranda was an only child of a rich family. Her parents ensured that she had the best education could offer. She was not only beautiful but also intelligent. Money does not buy friends but it gets you a better class of enemies, so, Miranda knew no friends. She was called ‘the rich girl’ with so much contempt that sometimes she wished to disassociate herself from her wealthy background. To accomplish this, she refused to be dropped at and picked up from school, instead, she walked all the way to their posh house. But no matter how much she tried to show her schoolmates that she was not made of money, her attempts failed short. With time, though, she stopped craving for their company for there was Frank. They were in the same class but he did not ostracize her as others did. To say the least, he protected her from the sharp tongues of the schoolmates and made sure that she never missed company.   One event really endeared Frank to her, and which she remembered vividly, was when

I write this post in gratitude for the far I have come. I am grateful to God, my parents, my friends, my mentors and all the others who encouraged me in my First Year of my Masters. I did finally finish my first year and the feeling was quite exhilarating. I felt like screaming and jumping up for joy. Truly, hard work pays. When I started in October 2011, i knew it was going to be a tough journey. And it was. I almost gave up especially during the last months. But i survived by the grace of God. So, I am done with my first year. I am done with excessive traveling. Now to second year. I have been warned about research and fieldwork. To be truthful, i am not really looking forward to the whole research issues but I have to. In every year, I have people who encourage me and urge me to push forward. At this time, I am grateful to all those people who are up there in their professions, for constantly finding out how i am fairing on. For telling me to keep on working hard and telling m

Dear Journal, the title of this post suggests just how tough this journey has gotten. It is also part of the reason you have not seen me here since February. I am left with one month to finish my class work but some how my brain and mind is on a strike mode. Dear Jounal, assignments and writing my research proposal is calling but i just can not seem to concentrate. Sometimes, my mind is torn between watching a movie, sleeping or working on my assignments.During such times, i ask my self why i decided to go back to school. May be i would have waited for one more year before doing this.  Was i ready enough? But this never used to happen while doing my undergraduate. A s a matter of fact, i was branded the class 'choppy' or bookworm because i would read and do my assignments with ease. Dear Journal, remember the travels i mentioned to and fro my work place to class? Oh my, they have become so tiring! For this one month, i will just be trudging on to the finish line. Any way,

Rising Star: Happy Sad Week: The Journal of a Working Masters S... : Dear Diary, The last week has been one of sorts. It felt almost like the universe had decided to work against me. I will talk of two thing...

Dear Diary, The last week has been one of sorts. It felt almost like the universe had decided to work against me. I will talk of two things: Examinations and Deaths. Dear Diary, since the year started i have lost several friends, a relative and acquaintances.  Never have i been devastated by the occurrence of events. It started with the killing of the hubby to my friend by Al Shabaab in Somalia. It was too painful because barely a month ago had i been a maid in their wedding. You can imagine the shock when i learnt of his death; they had barely lived as a married couple! And  then, Dear Diary, on a Friday that had gone so well and we were all looking forward to the weekend, i receive a message at 0100 a.m that a friend and a colleague whom we had been with during the day had passed on through a grisly road accident. I was truly devastated and that was a night of nightmares of sorts! Dear Diary, Oscar was just like me; shuttling to and from Kisumu to attend classes just like i shu

 Dear Diary, I am a perfectionist and when i set my might to do or achieve something, i really go for it. I always do not want to stumbling blocks to come my way. Do not get me wrong, though, i do welcome challenges because they teach me something new. Dear Diary, i have always loved reading. When i was young, i would read anything i would lay my hands on. The number of novels i have read are countless. My reading culture was a known fact starting from my primary school days up to my undergraduate. And it all paid because i always excelled. But, Dear Diary, reading has proved to be quite tiresome and tasking in my postgraduate. I can barely concentrate for thirty minutes. My mind is always on a multi-tasking mode; i want to read, watch a movie, visit friends, listen to music all at the same time. So, you can imagine, Dear Diary, how disappointed i was when, after trying my best to prepare for my first semester postgraduate examinations, it is postponed at the last minute. I was so

Dear Diary, This one article is in tribute to specific people who have helped me in this journey. They have contributed immensely in one way or the other to keep me sane. Almighty God, without whom i would not have the inner strength to keep on especially when the going gets tough.  For granting me the grace to trudge on, for provision of financial and material needs, for protection during the numerous and sometimes late journeys i undertake on Kenyan roads, for sake keeping of my health and sanity. My parents, for believing in me and affirming the strength i possess to be able to hold on steadfastly even in difficult circumstances. For standing in awe at my achievements and urging me on. Most significantly, though, for being faithful in their prayers for me. My boss, the Vice Chancellor, for giving me permission to study and attend classes. For allowing me to work half days for better part of the days of the week. For asking every now and then how my classes are going on. For