Showing posts with label Sentiments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sentiments. Show all posts

Sunday, 4 August 2013

THE LITTLE ESSENCES OF LIFE

 Maybe I seek the past-- a past that as Lauret Ngcobo pointed out, is swiftly passing through our fingers. But I have a different opinion... the past should go, I believe but that will only happen after it has finished its role of helping me build a present I can cling to. I was advised never to make a move before I am sure of where I am going. So until that happens, until I have fully grasped my present I will not even contemplate parting ways with my past. And of course, I will never part ways with my past for there is no present without a past, just like there is no future without a present.

“I just felt lonely after the church service and I decided to check on you.”

Perhaps that was a simple everyday text that was not supposed to awaken so many emotions but in my case it did. First, the sender is a very close friend-- the kind I can say (without trying to be modest) that I cannot live in this world without. She has always been there with me and I couldn't reply the text without a tinge of lose; thanks to the passing of time that has decided to throw distance between us.

When eventually I sat down, I discovered that I needed to open up to someone about my fears of the coming and going of seasons. Laurence Durell says that somewhere in the heart of experience, there is a fear that we can conquer if we were attentive enough, loving enough or patient enough. Will there be time? I am accused of being an alarmist. Granted, I look for things that I may never find but the fact that the search is worth the while is what motivates me. Discovering new truths is a habit that I would want to cultivate in the people whose paths cross mine...it could be a mirage but I see it as a mental exercise that can help develop so many other aspects of an individual.

So where was I? Yes, I needed consolation and assurance that this great feeling of loss at breaking ties with old friend wasn't a reserve of people with a name like mine or some other artificial thing. Then in a nutshell I was told that its heartbreaking and uncertain but a time will come when some relationships will have to end. Not because we wronged each other. But because of many other factors. And ending in this case doesn't imply cutting off communication with someone because 'some relationships have to end' but because there is nothing more to talk about. So when this time comes, only the little essences of life can keep you going. So, what are the little essences of life?

  • The laughter you shared
  • The love that will last, always, no matter the circumstances that have driven you apart
  • The simple joys and pleasures you got from the most funny places;like under a particular tree
  • A shared childhood(if you shared one)or other things you have in common.


Whatever the case, friendship ties should be guarded to survive the ever changing circumstances that characterize the world we live in today. I am persuaded to believe that true friend can grow separately without growing apart.

Tuesday, 22 January 2013

BEWARE, EMOTIONAL SIGNIFICANCE IS PRICELESS.

There is a time I did not speak to my desk-mate for over a month when I was in form three. The reason was this, she had gone into my locker without my permission, taken my favorite novel and given it to someone who had misplaced it. The River and the Source by Margret Ogola is the last novel I will (even now) ever lend out. I am emotionally attached to that book; everything about it just feels important. What annoyed me even more was the fact that, my deskmate knew these.

 When it was clear that the book wasn't going to be found, I let go but I could not speak to my desk-mate for a while. But nature is nice because the healing eventually did come. I got another copy of the novel and luckily, my friendship with Sharon was restored. But I think the unintended consequence of that experience was that I learnt a lot of lessons: to always beware that emotional significance is priceless-- neither silver nor gold can replace it.

One of the main things I picked from that experience is that we look at things differently, just as we value different things. In your eyes, it could be a mere bangle but in someone else's eyes, it stands for everything there is to life. I have learnt to be particularly careful with other people's properties. In Sharon's eyes, the novel may just have been like any other book. I may have gone on and on telling her how much I loved that book but she couldn't figure out any particular special attribute that the book has. And perhaps that was why she did not need a lot of thinking time before giving out the book.

And when it comes to people who have walked into my life or our paths  have crossed I am even more careful. I don't lose a friend unless it is inevitable... I have learnt to look at life closely and in the course of 'my study' I have realized that nothing happens by accident. No meetings just happen... I mean there is never a coincidence. I am saying this with conviction because a lot of people got into my life 'accidentally', but right now I would be lost without them.

So, next time before you do ANYTHING, remember, THAT WHICH YOU WANT TO DO could be all that stands between real happiness and eternal nostalgia for someone else.

Let us be especially careful with people's emotions this year. They are priceless.

Sunday, 20 January 2013

CHIMAMANDA TAKE ME AWAY!


I

I go crazy once in a while over Chimamanda... I love her more than what words can say...hahaha! But I know I am not the only one, a lot of people do.

I forgot to begin this way; HAPPY NEW YEAR SWEETHEARTS-- Forgive my delay.

This talk(SHARED ABOVE) made me laugh. Chimamanda felt so near, you know I always feel close to her whenever I am reading any of her stuff but I felt even closer this time.

I particularly like this statement;
"Not all women want to get married. And we should create room in our society for them."
Please Chimamanda, forget the 'pretenders' I am YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN.

Let's talk later when I am a lot more organized.

Sunday, 30 September 2012

EVERY CLOUD HAS A SILVER LINING...

...that was the title of the story that gave me permission to read 'Parents Magazine'. My mother read a lot of these magazines when I was young and they were really 'all over' the house. But I never read them. I never saw any of my sisters reading them either; it was just my mother and rarely my father. So that simply told me that, as the title suggested, the magazine was meant for parents. It was really no big deal because I had my own books to read, the New Progressive Primary English story books series was just kicking off and I had a good number of those books to satiate my thirst for the written word.

So one day, my mother asked me to arrange the Parents Magazines for her because she was beginning to lose them due to the disorderly manner in which they were kept. She sat on one side of the study table watching me as I did this and my first thought was that, she did not want me to look inside them and that is why she was there to supervise. But I later learnt that her mind was so far away from what I was doing. Anyway, I continued doing my assignment but not without reading a few words on the cover and that was when I came across that proverb; EVERY CLOUD HAS A SILVER LINING.

I was in class eight then and I am guessing you know that at that point in life, the more the number of proverbs in your composition, the more likely you were to score high marks. So I blurted out. "Mom, our English teacher uses this proverb a lot..." I can't remember the other words I said. I can't remember the exact words mother said either. But I know she told me that, every reading material is important and I had no reason to discriminate. "If they were not good for you, they wouldn't be lying 'all over' the house." I remember those words.

But I still had my reservations. Parents was still too gigantic a word for me and I told mother as much. She pulled one of the magazines and asked me to move to where she was. Then she showed me two columns. One was the youth column and the other was from the pulpit. She told me that the two were very good reads for me and I should always make an effort and read them every month. She also showed me other columns; It happened to me and Real life experience which she said would widen my view of life and issues.

So, I made it a habit. I started reading the magazines with her and I would wait for their delivery more eagerly than she did especially after I fell in love with The Youth column. I found the column so interactive and basic. When I went to secondary school, I would identify with most of the things the writer talked about and slowly by slowly, the column became more than an education piece for me. It opened new windows and doors in my view of the art of writing. It made writing as an art cease being a threateningly deep and complex art; it became something I could recognize, see and even feel. I told my school friends some of the stories I read in this column and since I could not carry the entire magazine to school, those who could came to our house to read some of these stories and at some point, we all concluded that the author of this column was our classmate. She seemed to know everything that happened in our school and our class! Or maybe she was a ghost *wink*.

Then somewhere a long the line, I decided that I was going to be a writer like that columnist. I had to meet her although I did not know what I would tell her when I met her. I had no idea what she looked like but that did not stop me from imagining how she looked, walked, talked... When I was in school, I would write stories about my classmates the way I would imagine she did and I couldn't wait to get home when schools closed to compare my writing with hers and see how similar our school terms had been. I was that mad! When my mates were rushing home to eat home food and see their 'boyfriends', I was rushing home to compare notes with an imaginary classmate. One of my friends who had concluded that I was obsessed with that writer suggested that I write her a letter through her editor because there was no other contact of hers. I did this but I got no reply. Poor me! But 'as they say', if you plot and the plan fails, you plot again.

I finished high school without seeing her and I almost gave up when I did not see anymore stories written by her in that magazine. I honestly stopped reading the entire magazine. But I met her again and we actually met... and this was not a dream as one of my sisters keeps insinuating, " Who doesn't know Daisy has met everyone she wants to meet... in her dreams..." She likes saying that and one of these days I will chop off her mouth! Jokes aside. I truly met her... not in my dreams or visions or imaginations or fantasies... but in the physical. And by the way it was not an accidental meeting. It was well planned. Details of our first meeting will come up in a whole post but I can give you an idea of how it was for me. I was jittery all through!  

Truly, dreams come true. 

(A PRELUDE OF THINGS TO COME)
Dear Carol,

One day,  you will look around and not see me. That will be because I will have taken a journey into the unknown world called fiction. Many go on this journey knowing they will trip and fall like Chimamanda says but they still go. So when the time comes, I will go. But I will be thankful to you always for giving me the most important thing any one who wants to write needs. The permission to write.

Always pray for me,

Much adoration,

Daisy.


Sunday, 17 June 2012

YOU ARE SPECIAL DAD. I LOVE YOU.

 June 17th marks the international fathers' day and I take this opportunity to wish my father a very special day. He has done so much for us and for this reason alone, I believe I owe it to him to be nothing less than what he expects. I pray GOD will grant him good health, fulfillment, peace and joy that knows no bounds.

I'm nowhere close to my dad but I'm certain we would have done our usual stuff... discussing and analyzing the books we love... What else do I do with my father... gossip a bit about mom...and you know... just talking. I was brought up feeding on love and perhaps that is the reason other things rarely bother me. Sochima Ezeoke( Sochima is a new talent in Nollywood.) was interviewed sometime back on iROKO TV and when the journalist asked her who has had a lot of influence in her life between her two parents, Sochi did not answer. "There is going to be a lot of trouble at home if I answer that..."
So, I take the direction of Sochi. Both my parents have had influences in my life but I have to risk and say that they have had different influences in my life. I identify with my father almost instinctively.... It has nothing to do with the physical, although I'm told I have his lips... that sort of thing and I have my mother's eyes... its so crazy.
 But as most people remember their fathers in a special way this season, I want us to remember that we have  children who don't have daddys... either they passed on or they never knew them or... there are other reasons. Let us remember to pray for them because really, we all need to have fathers.

Monday, 4 June 2012

A SUPERB SUNDAY AFTER MADARAKA

June is here with us already and we thank GOD. As Kenyans, we have just celebrated our Madaraka Day which is the day our country got independence. The day is usually marked on 1st of June each year and it being a public holiday, most offices were closed, children didn't go to school and there was a general mood of relaxation even for those who reported to work. This year, we marked the 49th Madaraka day and as a country, we have a lot to be grateful for; improved housing facilities, proper education, improved infrastructure... the list is quite long and our prayer is that we move towards excellence.

But even as we celebrate, a few things are still a miss in the country; some victims of Dec2007/Feb2008 post election violence have not been resettled, there is rampant corruption in our country and even in courts money has the ability to turn the accuser into the accused, the transport system especially in the city centre is crazy with unending traffic hold ups... the list here is long as well but we can trust GOD to come to our rescue because HE Has done that before.

Yesterday was so refreshing a Sunday for me. First, I confirmed that Dakore Egbuson was still in nollywood. Really, I don't know what makes me have so much affection for the Nigerian and Ghanaian film industries. Nothing annoys me more than something major happening there without my knowledge.Nancie, a former school mate and friend told me that it would be very easy for me to run a column or label on my blog titled West Africa express...Of course I only laughed because I could not beat her up; but anyway, she knows humour can get her anywhere with me.
 Dakore as you can see is a beauty.

So yeah, it had been rumoured that Dakore Egbuson was quitting her acting career because of... was it marriage or her cute little girl? One of those. Of course Dakore denied it in an interview stating that she had simply taken a break. I believed her but her absence was really getting me scared. I love Dakore for many reasons but I have to mention that my love affair with her started with the movie 'CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE' where she was starring alongside Omoni Oboli and RMD (Richard Mofe-Damijo)... See how confused I get when I start writing about Nigeria... I was saying I love her because she is a plain feminist, I mean it doesn't matter what role she plays in a movie, no man gets away with ordering her around; I am sure even movie directors and producers take their time before settling on her as a member of the cast... she is a champion!

I had used all my 'agents'(I hope they don't read this) in West Africa but they were not able to confirm that she was still in the industry because she has been in the U.S for a while. So guess how I confirmed... I watched her latest movie... This I will not say the title but a few hints will do. She is starring alongside Olu Jacobs, Zack Orji and some two dudes I can't place, then the movie is set in Cameroon with most of the action taking place in Douala. Dakore, I am watching you...

The Dakore issue was one thing. The second thing was that I was treated to a nice church session; a much needed break from the boring stuff I had to put up with the previous Sunday. Boring could be a bit too harsh a word to use. Allow me to apologize and then explain.

Okay I apologize for calling a church session boring. What I meant to say was that, the speaker wasn't exactly there and he kept getting side-tracked. For example, he would read a whole verse only to discover that it was not the intended one.

So yesterday was a breath of fresh air despite getting there a few minutes into the praise hour. The theme was The Importance of prayer in the life of a christian. You might be thinking that its a rather obvious topic but believe me when I say it is the core, the importance of prayer can never be underestimated... you want good education, pray; you want good friends, pray, you want a good job, pray... it is that simple but for some, that hard. It was so refreshing I say again. But let's just say I find a lot of peace in the House of God. I have never thought that I can do something else on Sunday except being in the presence of GOD and  you know just worshiping... it is so nice. The effect of my spiritual mom is so strong on me and I pray that I will one day have such an impact on someone.

The week is already underway and as it is these days, it is Monday but before you know it, its Thursday already, so remember to make good use of whatever time you have and be accountable for it.

May the grace of GOD be with you all.


Thursday, 20 October 2011

A TRIBUTE TO THE LATE DR. MARGARATE ATIENO OGOLLA'S THE RIVER AND THE SOURCE

The first sentence of that awe-inspiring novel just caught my attention. I immediately knew it would talk about culture which is a sweetheart subject for me.
Let me start with the preliminaries; that novel was given to me by my father who strangely knew my literature taste. I say strangely because at the time we had never sat down to just talk about literature. But there is something within my consciousness which can not allow me to disappoint my father so I read the book.

I was fourteen years old and in form two when I first read the novel. I did not know much about character analyses, placement, themes or even uses of language then but somehow that novel grabbed my attention and from then onwards I would have this desperate desire to meet the author and just tell her she wrote a good book. I finally located her, booked an appointment with her but perhaps I took too long because she passed on just a few weeks prior.

A summary
The novel starts with the birth of a baby girl. This child is the fast girl child in the homestead of not just a chief but a great chief called Odero Gogni who had covered himself in considerable glory for siring twenty one sons. The naming rite worries everyone because no name suits her spirit and she cries for a very long time.
A name is eventually found for her but for the 'noise', she is nicknamed Akoko which means the noisy one. It is this name that sticks throughout the development of the novel.
Akoko grows both in age and stature and she is well trained in the ways of chik(the traditions and norms that govern the community). We are told she is physically strong and a beauty to behold so that by the time she reaches marriageable age, so many suitors are after her and the great chief capitalizes on this to assert himself. He is reluctant about giving his firstborn daughter just to any man.
Akoko finally gets married at 19 seasons to Chief Owour Kembo of Sakwa. They live happily and Akoko being the mikai(first wife of a chief), she is treated with a lot of respect. The fact that she hails from a chieftaincy also adds to the reverence that people accord her.
Things however do not go well when Akoko can not bear more than three children and her husband, chief Owour Kembo is reluctant about taking up another wife. Akoko is accused of so many evils among them juok(witchcraft) which annoys her and in the absence of her husband, she goes back to her people.
There is eventual reconciliation although there continues to exist friction between the extended family and Akoko especially between the mother-in-law and Akoko.
Of Akoko's three children; Obura, Nyabera and Owang' Sino, only Nyabera lives. Obura is lured by a friend who escapes with him in order to fight the first world war. Owang' Sino dies shortly after taking up his father's position as the chief(his father, chief Kembo became weakly after Obura's death and he died prematurely.)
The only direct male child in the late chief Kembo's lineage is an infant, borne to Owang' Sino and who cannot definitely lead the people.
The chieftainship therefore has to move to chief Kembo's brother. It is agreed that as soon as the infant is old enough to lead, he would be crowned chief. This part presents Otieno, Kembo's brother as a greedy man who cares not for his people and his main concern is his stomach.
Meanwhile, Nyabera gets married but there appears to be a problem. All the children she gives birth to die from one ailment or another. She is so demoralized and things get even worse when her husband dies. But her mother does not stop encouraging her especially being the only one who seems to care about her well-being. Nyabera remarries after sometime.
When it is time for young Owang' Sino to take over leadership, Otieno is not willing to let go and his grandmother not being one to take anything lying down, she seeks the aid of sirikal, a word she had heard when some people came to deliver the information that Obura had died in war.
That was how Akoko eventually broke the boundaries of her life and got to learn about the outside world. She for example learns about the new religion of hope for widows and oppressed like herself. It is also around this time that Nyabera gives birth to a child who lives and she is called Awiti which means picked from the road, something a kin to an abandoned child.
Having found the new religion, Akoko comes back and mentions it to her daughter Nyabera and together they move to the mission. They take along Awiti and young Owang' Sino.

At the mission, they find a lot of peace and they all begin to learn the new ways. After their studies and baptism, Akoko is named Veronica, Nyabera is named Mary, Owang' Sino is named Peter and Awiti is named Elizabeth. They live in their small house contentedly and their grandmother(Akoko) does not relent in her hardwork to ensure that there is enough food for all of them and even enough to take to church.
As they continue with their education(Elizabeth and Peter) their strengths are unveiled. Elizabeth turns out as a clever student and she is taken to the teachers training college and Peter discovers his 'calling' towards priesthood and he is taken to a seminary(the chieftaincy is now forgotten).

Elizabeth eventually gets married after her teacher training to Mark Sigu who was an ex-soldier. Unfortunately her grandmother passed on shortly before her christian wedding.

Mark and Elizabeth's marriage flourished with so many children. The first set of twins is Rebecca and Veronica, Aoro, Antony, then another set of twins Opiyo and Odongo and finally baby Mary.

The story here flows like that of any modern family with sibling rivalry, care for one another, folly, truancy, tricks, good memories, competition e.t.c. It is for example noted that Rebecca was so beautiful. Vera on the other side is said to have been a clever child right from the start. It is also mentioned that Becky and Vera were not very good friends and they at times exchanged bitter words. But in her will, Becky requested unity with Vera and goes on to leave the care of her two half caste children in her care.

Mary Nyabera also dies in her seventies and this almost breaks down Elizabeth who had learnt to depend on her mother after the death of her grandmother. She is buried honorably with Father Peter, her nephew presiding over the mass.

The story gets to its climax with the life of Elizabeth's children, some of who get married and lead happy lives. It was sad however because Becky, died prematurely due to HIV infection but leaves a legacy; two children Alicia and Johny and a lot of property. Vera on the other hand opts to join Opus Dei as a non-marrying member. Aoro who becomes a medical doctor marries another medical doctor from the ridge country of Kikuyu(Wandia Mugo) and together, they have four children.
Elizabeth also dies towards the end of the novel which marks the end of the three generation of women who hold the novel together.
This is a novel of tears, hopelessness, self pity and unexpectedly, a story of love, joy and renewal. People say it deserves to be read at a sitting but I think it deserves to be, if possible read within an interval of breathes...maybe five or ten. It looks like an ordinary story but into the construction of the novel went all the skill and sophistication of a master story teller. Between the covers, there is a grand new world in which you fit perfectly assuming whatever role.
Rest in peace Margarete and may perpetual light shine upon you. Maybe you were not supposed to die but who am I? It is just consoling to know that you left behind books, "I swear by Apollo" is equally a good read and thus, they will continue to tell us about your mind even into posterity. I know your soul lives on, Margarete...
"...but the dead have no use for the living, who eventually have to 'collect' themselves so that the business of life might somehow continue." "...to each person, an allotted lifespan is given, against which there is no appeal..." "...she was laid to rest beneath her favorite groove of purple bougainvillea, nearby was Becky's grave, as beautiful as she herself had been in this life..." The end.