Mum I Want to Know My Father

Remy, hi my love. That was a roller coaster that we went through on Friday.  I know that you have been harbouring  a secret wish; to have a good and healthy relationship with your father and that is what Friday was all about.

If you remember well, the week before last you insisted that your father was to take you to see the eye doctor who I learnt is called an ophthalmologist. (Long name for a doctor of one of the smallest organs in the body. What is the pronunciation of the word anyway)?  So your (our) date was at 11.30 am but somehow we ran late cos we had another appointment prior to the meeting your father at the eye hospital. So we went in knowing that we were already late and he had an appointment that he had to go to by  about 12.30 pm. We had agreed that we would play by ear and should the air be conducive then I would leave you in his capable hands after all his is your father and you wanted to spend some time with him. Well shock on us, he also registered to see the eye doc, time 12.00 pm. That was an indication to me then may be the 12.30 appointment was not going to happen cos the clinic as you know is very thorough and the shortest you take to go through the whole process is not less than 3 hours.

Playing it by ear I decided to sit completely separately from you so that you can bond; father and daughter. I gave you a cool one hour and a half for you to sit and talk  only to later discover that the longest time that you sat together was about fifteen minutes. To cut the long story short Remy remember that we sat at the hospital from noon up to about 4:30 pm. I am sorry that you did not achieve the objective of the day; to get an answer from your father whether he wants to have a father-daughter relationship with you. By the end of the four  and a half the only thing that you could say was that that is the longest time that the two of you have spent together in your lifetime. I could see that end that you were seething with anger and the reasons that you gave me were most profound:-


  • You had insisted for your father to come and “take” you see the ophthalmologist because you believe that you inherited your poor eyesight from him. For you this is something that you share exclusively with him.
  • Sometime last year, you had written to him a hand written letter and asked him a few fundamental questions. Questions that are pertinent to your basic existence. The most important of all was “Would you like to have a relationship with me?”  The fact that he was not able to discuss the issues even after having sat on them for more than six months did not sit very well with you.

Remy I will attempt to define who a father is for you since you never had the joy of growing up with one. A father is the male parent of any child. He is the protector and provider. He is looked up as the head of the family. In almost all societies he gives his name to his child. It is through him that a child gets his or her inheritance. A father should love his child unconditionally, he should be there to take away any pain, harm or threat that the child faces. A father does not need to have “donated his sperm” to a child for him to parent. A father does not need to biologically father a child for him to parent you Remy. Your doting grandpa is a case to point out.

My darling girl I know that life is hard and and I know that you would love that gift of having a father to love you for who you are. At times I wonder if I made a mistake for not including him in your life. I wonder if I selfishly denied you that bond that is between a father and a child. I wonder if he has a good relationship with his legitimate and or legal children, I wonder if he has a wishy washy relationship with them as he has with you.  I wonder if the legitimate children have a many unfulfilled promises from as you have.

Remy one thing that I know is true is that I have never and will never say anything that is derogatory about your father in your hearing. No matter how bad or how messed up my relationship with him was, yours is a completely different one; that of father and daughter. Mine was sexual. No parent in their right mind should use the basis of a failed love relationship whether legal or not to deny their child the right to know him/

Remy, my dear, my fondest wish and prayer is that you shall one day have an unconditional bond with your father. A bond that is so pure, so loving and  not money driven. A  father-child driven irrevocable bond.




All are My Children

Bad Manners

At the age of six I had the joy of going to visit and spend some days with my maternal grandmother. The reason that this was a highlight in my life was I would play with one of my favourite cousins, she was a happy-go-lucky, one who was always laughing. Her laughter was music to the ears. During my short stay, we a group of 5 cousins, got into various escapades and one of them is still ingrained in my mind four decades later.

One of my uncles had harvested some maize and it had been spread outside for it to dry before it is thrashed. We had been charged with the duty of keeping the chicken, goats and cows off the maize. Being the good and industrious kids we were, our job was to chase the animals especially the chicken far away from the maize as we could. The chicken kept on coming back to steal a grain or two. As we were milling around in the compound I heard my cousin, the favourite one, shout and we all run towards her asking her what was wrong. She pointed at the road. Our eyes zoomed towards the direction of her finger. The time was about eleven in the morning.

At the road stood a man facing us, he looked like he was intent on something. My grandmother’s home was next to a road and it had a short hedge that acted as a fence. We could see the man’s face very clearly but we could not see what he was doing since the hedge hid his body from the waist downwards. My cousin, she was the oldest told us to watch the man because he was going to unzip his pants and urinate. She said this with a lot of disgust and disdain. True to the word the man opened his pants and proceeded to take a lick. My cousin, shouted “githugumiiii” and the rest of us did so “githugumiiiii” to the hearing and chagrin of the man. There is no English equivalent of “githugumiiii” but the loose translation can only be equated to the “one urinating”

.Man peeing

Remy, what we saw and went through for the next four hours was something that I will in my life never forget. We saw the man secure his trousers and run full speed for us. We ran as fast as our short legs would take us. Githugumi had no interest in us, he went to the shamba where the adults were busy picking tea. We hid for a while fearing that my grandmother and aunt would come to apprehend us. But when this did not happen (I guess time in a child’s mind is very short) as soon as we had expected it we forgot about the incident and continued chasing the chicken around and playing hide and seek. What jotted us back to reality was one of my cousins screaming as he ran ‘Wee ura” that is “You, run”. We all took to our heels. There was total war in the compound.

My grandma, aunt and Githugumi came charging at us. In each of their hands they had green vines which they were brandishing like swords. What I remember is seeing my favourite cousin plus the others being beaten indiscriminately on all parts of their bodies, and especially those parts that were not covered by clothing. “Woiii cucu ndigacokera”(Cucu I will never repeat it again) they were screaming their heads off. Remy, I don’t know whether it is due to stupidity or the notion or justice delayed is justice denied, I ran to my aunt why are you beating them I asked. I was given one strike of the vine and I got to understand why the rest were screaming and wailing at the top of their heads. We were being beaten with “Hatha” stinging nettle, and damn the stuff burns like hell. We were denied food for the rest of the day. We were 5 forlorn children who when any adult heard what we had done, would either pull our ears, pinch or give us a sharp slap. By the way our crime was; embarrassing Githugumi in public.

Thou Shall Not

Remy, I learnt a few things that day. One that no matter what an adult has done and especially if it’s wrong you should not point out to his face. Children should not express what they have witnessed or have heard since the information will be used against them. Girl, you know that is not how things work, you should always report to a responsible adult when you see something wrong being done. Remy, you know that I have taught you better do not conform with others if you know what is being done is wrong. Do not be part of the crowd and if you have to be in a crowd be the leader not a follower.

Lesson two, it is bad manners for men to go “passing water” in undesignated areas as they often do. My good cousin made that absolutely clear. That is to say it is wrong for men to go urinating everywhere without a care of who is within the vicinity. Remy, now you know why I will always hoot if I drive past a urinating man. Apart from this being bad manners, Githugumi was the first man’s “appendage” for me to see, though from afar. It is a shock to any young girl especially those who have started to learn that there is a difference between boys and girls. I wonder what would happen if we, ladies would go dropping our knickers at the drop of a hat so as to answer a call of nature. How would men react to seeing women peeing in public places? Men should know that this habit is disgusting and repulsive and especially so after completing their business they will stretch out their dirty hands to greet you.

Remy that day I learnt that adults and anybody for that matter should be treated with respect regardless of their transgressions. If we had been diplomatic and smart enough we would not have insulted Githugumi. I don’t know how we would have addressed the issue because at that time and age, a child having an open conservation with her parent was unheard of. Nowadays this is possible and Remy you know that my door is always open, you know that you can talk to me on whatever subject that takes your fancy, no matter how unpleasant the subject might be.

My Cucu and aunt made it very clear that when it comes to discipline it is meted out to all and sundry regardless of whether you took part in the crime or not. You are guilty of a crime by association. The only reason as to why I has not beaten as badly as the rest was because I was a visitor and the assumption that I was the youngest and ‘better’ mannered then them. Remy I learnt that at times we have to take collective responsibility in order to be relevant in society. If my cousin had not pointed out that Githugumi was doing something that an adult was not supposed to do may be I would never have taken issue with men who go peeing everywhere in public. Likewise Remy when you take a stand in your life as long as you know it is the correct thing thou shall not be compromised.

My Sibling, My Achilles Heel

About four years ago I attended the funeral of one of my male relatives. The poor man had been knifed and killed at his bar by a patron due the non  payment of a negligible amount of money. When I was told that he had died and may be by a violent hand I thought, this has been long overdue. This relative of mine had been very abrasive, aggressive to the point of violence to his own siblings. It is common knowledge that he never saw eye to eye with one of his brothers, you know to the point that they would not be put in the same room without a referee. Remy I attended the funeral not because I loved this relative of mine but because there would have been talk if I or members of our family did not. You see this man is my Uncle Kamande. As you know they don’t see eye to eye with your guka.
Upon arrival at the funeral the first thing that I noted was my cousins were grief struck very crestfallen and inconsolable. Nyambura, one of my cousins became hysterical when she viewed her father’s body. She screamed and wailed all over the place as I said to myself with a lot of disgust what a show. Does she have to be this dramatic? When the eulogy was read I was astounded. This man received accolades from his neighbours, church members and even members of the government. No one said anything adverse about Kamande. He was living example in the community, he was a church elder, in fact a church leader, a husband, and a father. I was at a loss, had we misjudged, misunderstood and mislabeled Uncle Kamande unfairly? Was there more to the conflict than my father had let us know.
Remy, after funeral, I went through the day’s event as I often do and I learnt a few home truths about the relationship between my father and his late brother.

  • Family history and truths are not always what they seem. It depends on who is presenting these facts and to whom.
  • Everyone, no matter how good or bad has a family, or had a family. This person had parents who brought him to the world.
  • There is always a person who will love the person who we will treat as our enemy.
  • We are all different though we belong to families. Unfortunately, we are also socialized differently even when we have more than one sibling. Parents and especially (mothers) have the knack and inherent knowledge of how to treat any of her children. This is regardless whether the treatment is fair or not,( debatable). Your cucu once told me that she will only request me to do tasks that she knows I am capable of performing and I guess that is true for my siblings.

Why am I saying these things Remy? I learnt that my uncle had a family, a family that loved him to bits. He was a loving father, and a loving husband. No wonder my cousin was devastated when her father died. My uncle was a mentor, to the students that he had spent years teaching, to the church members that he had led for more than 15 years. I learnt that my father was not the saint I thought him to be. I learnt that I only knew one side of the conflict, that is my father’s side of the story. Remy, I learnt that we deal with people as we perceive them. My darling girl perception is a dangerous thing because:-

  1. We mete out emotions and reactions to people because of the way we see them. Remy if you think that a teacher in school is mean, then you will do everything to make sure that the teacher is mean to you. That is you become self-sabotaging because you don’t think that the teacher can behave any other way towards you.
  2. Women are said to be from Venus what this means is that we will brood and ponder over a gesture or word that was said to us. Remy, when I tell you “I love you” that is exactly what I mean. There are no additions or subtraction to that statement. But what do women normally do, if my mother calls all my siblings but not me, I will read a lot of things in her single action, she favours and loves them best, or she has an underhand plan to hurt me in some way. Should I learn that my sister’s family has been for a holiday and we have not, Remy I will go stir crazy and imagine all sorts of things, they stole the money or someone has bribed the husband with a lot of cash. At no one time do we stop to think that may be my mother had not called me because the rest of the family was planning a surprise party to celebrate my 50 years of existence, or may be my sister had been saving for the last 5 years to go for that holiday.
  3. The mind is a very beautiful tool. It is the only part of the body that directs and instructs other body parts on how to behave. It is in the mind that we fall in love with that handsome Tv actor who is out of our reach. It is in the mind that we imagine how we have won the lottery and spend the millions shopping and holidaying. It is in the mind that you, Remy will give that strict teacher a dress down because she corrected you in class. It is also in the mind that we kill all our enemies, real, perceived and or imagined. It is in my mind that I will write, publish and sell that book that has been on the tips of my fingers and not on the storage drive of my computer. What I am saying Remy, we use the mind to imagine and look for slights that our siblings have done to use to malign, slight or insult them. Unfortunately the imaginations might cease to be  imaginations and we believe that they are truths.  This means that you will be one jealous human being.
  4. Remy, love is a very beautiful emotion, it is that emotion that sets us apart from other animals. My love for you tempers my anger when I find out that you have not completed a task as instructed. A sibling’s love will tide another over in times of calamity or misfortune. It is said by the wise ones that Love is akin to hate and it is a thin line between love and hate. Love is very strong and powerful emotion so is hate. Hate is the direct opposite of love. As love consumes you and makes people do grandiose things, hate also consumes one with equal measure. It makes you plan, scheme and execute the fall and or death of another, be it a perceived enemy, sibling or friend. It is ironic that the person that you love most, is also the person that would hurt you most and the person that you would also hate most. No wonder that most murders are committed at home.

I recognize that though I have siblings, sibling rivalry is real. Let no one cheat you. The fact that you are born by the same mother does NOT mean that you have to be friends. You are two different entities, with different perceptions, different talents, and different capabilities. Surprisingly though brought up in the same household your socialization is totally different as you are separate distinct children, loved and treated differently.
Remy how then do you avoid conflict with other members of your family. Keep off their line of fire, do your thing, if you need to assist your parents, do it without expecting your other siblings to do the same. Remember that as you go around assisting, do don’t be mean to yourself and your immediate family (ie husband and kids) when they come. (I sure hope one day I shall be called Cucu) The primary responsibility of your siblings, their well-being lies with your parents and NOT with you. Note that you don’t have to justify your actions to your sister or any other sibling. Give her a blackout, don’t let her know much about you or what you are up to. Don’t expose yourself to her. Info given will tend to generate jealousy from her and vice versa. Darling, please know that there are people who are just bad and unfortunately they also belong to a family. Treat her, your sister, as a sibling, meaning that you will be there when she needs you, but not as a friend who you will die for. Above all as you demand respect from her and other siblings never treat her with disrespect, keep off if you know that conflict and friction is bound to occur.

I am sure if your guka had treated his brother this way the friction between them would have been minimal.

Happily Ever or Never After

Remy I know you don’t remember this but when you were in class 2 the administration of that Christian school that you attended had me hopping mad. They gave you some drawing homework, “Draw your family members” this was given on a Friday and you had the whole of the weekend to do your drawing and colouring. As usual since my principle was not to do the homework for you, when you asked me who you should include as members of our family, I remember telling you to include all the members of our household. I confirmed that the homework was done and left at that as I did not see the need to tell you who you should include in the drawing.

The next Monday was one horrible day for you in school. The teacher had marked a big red X on your paper, and written the word DADDY in red followed by a series of question marks. DADDY????? Mum can I ask you a question? You said in a whisper as soon as I walked through the door in the evening. “Yes” I said. “Who is my father?” I remember stopping midstream, taken aback. At the age of 8 you wanted to know whom your father was, something that you had never discussed in your short span of life. I looked at you and wondered “what the heck do I tell you?” How do I condense the emotions, the hurt, the love, the betrayal,  the mistrust, the hate (take any human emotion felt) of more than two years when I “dated” your father to simple words that you would have understood. Lord I prayed for wisdom. And God came through for me. I told you that I would tell you about your father after you complete your primary school education. Remy you had a rejoinder for me. You wanted to know his name there and then. That you never asked me about your father again until I prodded you about 3 years ago is something that I do not comprehend. What did you so profoundly understand  at the age of 8 that it was an issue that I avoided to discuss. You never asked me about it again.

Back to your good Christian school; Remy let me tell you what made me hopping mad, a teacher had dared to define the family for you. She had dared to question my marital status, my life style on your homework paper with one small question. Daddy? She had judged me at and in so many levels that it was unbelievable. The big red X said:-

  • A proper family is made up of mum, dad, child(ren) and the Domestic Manager i.e. auntie. Our family was a bit “confused”, there was Parentsno daddy and there were about more than two aunties in the house though one was definitely not a relative
  • That I was not raising you right since daddy was not there. There was something sinful in our life style and it lead to some bullying directed towards you by the teachers and your fellow pupils due to a problem not of your own making
  • That your last name (surname) is your given name and the teacher had been on my back for more than a year to provide your surname. What I mean is she requested for a masculine last name which up to this day you do not bear. What is in a name? I am happy Remy that you are not a projection of anybody, that you carry a name that is meaningful to you and you alone.
  • She was saying that I Remy your mother was living a lie, that somehow I was denying you something in your life, that I should have a prefix Mrs. before my name to denote my status in society. That I will usually introduce myself by my given name and not as Mama Remy always leaves my listener looking at me with question mark. Honey like I usually tell you I love you to death but my life did not start and end with the act of my giving birth to you. There are other facets of my life that do not include you.
  • That you were and are at a disadvantage because  you do not have a daddy in your life. This is irregardless  that the daddy might have spent the rest of his life and yours as an absentee father, a man that you would not be close to as you are close to your grandpa. This daddy might be a man who might have made my life miserable, a man who at courtship was making demands that I did not consider fair but as long as I was Mrs. So & So I was set for life and good to go. Your father was as you say these days a Dead Beat Father.

Remy my anger was still there when I attended the annual PTA meeting that year. I rose up and addressed the whole congregation on Single Parenthood 101. I remember giving reasons of why some people are single parents:-

  • I can be a single parent by choice. I made that conscious decision that I wanted to give birth to a child without having a husband.
  • I can be a single parent due to a dead beat father/mother. I trusted that the man/woman I was in a relationship with and “fornicating with” would eventually become my life partner only for him/her to take off like a shot bullet at the first sound of the word pregnant. Some cultures have a good way of dealing with dead beat fathers, the baby is taken to the man’s home once he is done with breastfeeding.
  • Single parenthood Remy can so be as a result of death of a spouse and the widow or widower does not remarry. This type of single-hood is recognized by the society and church and more often than not the widows are implored not to remarry while society and family will sell off the widower to the highest bidder.
  • Divorce and separation are a large cause of people ending up as single parents. These Remy are individuals who have looked at their marital lives and said enough is enough I would rather be single rather than live with that witch or devil any longer.
  • Bringing up a child as a result of rape is one of the hardest decisions that a woman can be made to make, and yet courageous women do this all the time. Despite of the constant reminder that the child is as a result of the violation of the woman, a woman can single handily bring up this child. Of course the church implores the woman not to abort the baby, but do they ever stop and consider what the mother of such a child went through during the rape to even make such a suggestion.
  • I can also become a single parent through adoption. For one reason or another a single person has to take care of a child who is not biologically his/hers due to death, imprisonment, illness of a relative or sibling or even legal adoption.

Remy, at the end of my lesson I requested the school administration not to demonize single parenthood and if they do so not to vent to poor children who had no influence in changing the circumstances they are brought up in. You would  have heard a pin drop, literary parents did not know how to react; do they applaud me for the guts to take the bull by the horn as it were or do they castigate me for mentioning the unmentionable. I could see the judgement on their faces. How dare she, she is a prostitute, a sinner, promiscuous, cheap and loose woman. She has no traits to be anybody’s mother. Well we all know what type of a mother I am.

Remy, whatever life style you choice or find yourself in be proud and true to yourself, those who you love and also love you.  God bless you my child.


Remy, this month has been out of this world with so many things happening around us. But the issue that has remained in my mind is the insecurity that has been meted to different people in the society.  As hard as it is there is no one in this country who should lose his/her life because you do not belong to a certain community, religion, or gender.

Having said that, Remy I want to dwell on the very many incidences of sexual abuse, rape and stripping of women and children that has been going on for the last one month.  My darling girl you know that I have taught you well, to be an independent thinker. You know the mores and norms of our society.  You know how difficult it is for us to admit that we have done wrong, especially when an act is done willingly and knowingly. You know how we (especially the men) easily bury our heads in the sand. Like the kikuyu wise said “Runaga haria ruhuthiire “ meaning a river will always flood from its weakest point , the dam dyke has been broken. Why? Let me try to explain some few facts to you and your friends; Remy, as much as there is the stripping of women going on, you know that when you dress to go to town you should:-

  • Dress for yourself, do you feel smart, do you look presentable. when you look at yourself in the mirror are you happy with how you look. You are under no obligation to dress to suit anyone’s taste apart from your taste.
  • Whatever it is that you have worn, does it fit your body type? Remy, you know the difference of dressing obscenely and sexily or appealingly.  At no time do you dress to attract people, if you do attract those of the opposite sex, it is because God made you the way you are, a beautiful woman and you have no apologies to make.
  • Are you a victim of fashion no matter how ridiculous you might look? Remy, I know very well that you understand your body type. God gave you that wonderful feminine figure, one that most women would die for. Short of having breast, hip and butt reduction  as is the craze in the west, my darling girl you have learnt how to deal with the numerous body changes that have taken place in the last five years.
  • Is it fashion bit weather as the cliche goes. Dress appropriately, when you dress Remy, do it taking in mind of your surroundings.

Remy, if the answer to the first two bullets is yes and you answered no to the last two,  girl you are okay. You know yourself.

Crying womanHaving said all this let me try to understand and why these beasts called “men” are stripping and raping us in broad daylight. As I had explained to you last week during our talk,  this is not about the way you or your friends dress. It is about the man feeling inferior, it is about the men feeling less than men. One young married man told me that it is about him meting out revenge to a woman who has rejected his vibe, and to vent out that rejection he becomes violent towards the object of his eye. How befitting that you harm the one who you are attracted to! It is about men feeling challenged and inadequate in the present day Kenya. The man who led others in stripping the woman at Kayole was a thief, a man who has no ethics that he will not only steal he will dehumanize the hand that had fed him. The stripping is an epidemic that men have put a notch higher. They did it to a 16 year old girl on a Sunday  afternoon. That the beasts, one of them being an AP have been arrested is a move to the right direction. It is about men especially the youth because their fathers were never there to guide them, to mentor them. The fathers in Kenya today have left their parental role to the women and teachers, they are busy chasing unattainable dreams or wallowing in their miseries in bars.

The president of this great nation has said that we are on our own. I agree that we should be responsible and be each others keepers, but someone tell me (May be Uhuru should) how do I became my child’s keeper if her/his father, uncle, brother, grandfather the very person that I trust never to harm you Remy, will rape you a three year old for more than four hours. Uhuru tell me what is so sexually attractive in a 3 year old child to be  subjected to rape. I know that the penal code of Kenya describes the sexual abuse of a child as defilement. The dictionary meaning of  defile is “to make unclean or impure” or ” to violate the chastity of”. The Kenyan penal code therefore trivializes  child rape, it is a child who has been made dirty, a child who’s mark of purity, her virginity has been removed. By the very definition, when something is made dirty, it is washed, it is cleaned (may be with jik or a stronger bleach) and it becomes as white as driven snow. How do explain to a 3 year old that the sexual act that has been done to her is evil, how do you wipe off her memory clean and make her whole again.  Uhuru as you live in that large ivory tower with your bodyguards, have you ever considered that hard as you may you can not clean a raped child, a raped woman, a stripped woman? Have you ever pondered on what emotional trauma the child or any other victim goes through. Uhuru we saw you mourn for your relatives who died in the Westgate Terrorist Act, why don’t take a firm hand and deal with this epidemic. Stand and protect the women of Kenya. Uhuru how dare you tell us to take responsibility, to be our own sister’s keepers, if the men in our lives, the ones that we trust and should protect us are the perpetrators of these acts. Uhuru how dare you trivialize what is happening in a society of irresponsible men and hoodwink us with the formation of an Anti-Stripping Police unit, the same policemen who are rape and stripping us. Did you think that if you throw some goodies in the name of an anti-stripping unit we shall stop protesting, no WE SHALL NOT RELENT.

Remy dearest, take precautions so as not to put yourself in a precocious situation. Dire measures for dire straits.

  • I do not think that you have to answer to every Tom, Dick and Harry who tries to vibe you. There has to be chemistry and if for goodness sake you do not feel like talking to the creep, then do not feel compelled to do so.
  • Remy, for the sake of your cucu’s sanity and mine keep off areas in town that are prone to these heinous stripping acts.
  • Arm yourself Remy, these men are out to wipe us out one way or another. Carry any crude weapon that you can fit in your pocket, in your small handbag. Do not hesitate to use your arsenals in times of danger.


black womanI am outraged and I think rightly so. There has been a video: “Lady publicly stripped and disgraced for wearing a miniskirt” that has been doing social media rounds of a young lady who was stripped naked by men at a matatu terminus in the CBD. Her feeble pleas and protests fell on deaf ears as she resisted what the men were doing to her. Watch the video if you have the stomach for it. It is heart wrenching.
That a woman can no longer feel free to walk and go about her business without being accosted by men because she:-

  •  Dares to wear a “provocative tight fitting see- through mini” she must be cheap, a loose girl and she is branded a Malaya.
  • The same goes for wearing trousers; this lady is competing with men. Competing for what?
  • If the lady has hair extensions (weave or braids) or dreadlocks she has lost her culture and trying to ape the wazungus.
  • That the lady dared to ignore the men’s cat calls as she attempted to go about her business she has slighted them thus she needs to be taught a lesson.
  • Due to her size 8 African figure (the average Kenyan woman has a bust, small waist, wide hips and quite a big butt) something that she has no control of as that is the way she was created she has trended on men’s sensibilities by seducing them for daring to be herself.

For her transgressions the life lesson that this young woman suffers is to be stripped literary naked with the men making sexual innuendos, laughing and egging each other to each get a hold of part of her skirt, her flesh. Watch the video it is as revealing as it is appalling. I am outraged that one of the spectators or is it perpetrator had the mindset to take a video of the whole furore as it unfolded. And of course this pervert zeroed in on the woman who had dared to assault the tender sensibilities of men.

Fast forward within Nyeri, Kiambu and Busia counties there have been reports of defenseless senior citizen women most of them over 80 years being raped violently (one old cucu at 93!!!!?.) What is alarming is that the frequency in these rape reports is too high that I have been conditioned to expect a news clip of a rape case in each newscast that I listen to or watch. Is this the new epidemic that has hit Kenya?

I have no apt words to describe the men who perpetrated these heinous acts. Equally I have none to describe the ones that are trivializing the stripping of this poor girl with sentiments of she got what she asked for. Who in her right mind would leave the house asking to be publically stripped naked or be raped? Who in his right would mind think that because I decided to dress in a certain manner I deserve to be raped or stripped naked? Do I not live in a country that I have no basic human rights? I thought  I did so when I voted yes for the new constitution.

  •  Fact, these men, hooligans actually, are uncouth and do not deserve to be in polite society. It is evident that the men are “decently” dressed and in no way the so called parking boys. My take is that three quarters of these beasts are “family” men with wives and daughters. My definition of a decent man is someone who respects women, one who protects them, one who doesn’t use his physical power to subjugate, cower or put down women. Real men are comfortable with a woman who is expressing herself no matter how matter how opposed the men are to the views. Real men are not haters, or hitters.
  • Fact, Kenya as we are told Kenya has a population of which 80% are Christian so I imagine that these beasts who have no respect of human life were upholding the Christian virtue of chastity, purity and abstinence as they went stripping naked and raping defenseless women.
  • Fact, the men in this video clip think with their genitals rather than their brains. Listen to any of the popular FM radio morning shows and I will stand to be corrected. This is a man who cannot control himself and will always succumb to his baser instincts thus the sight of a well endowed woman will immediately set him to think of raping her and subduing her. These men live within the Pavlov law of reflex action and as Pavlov’s dog they have no control of their genitals, sorry, brains, at the sight of a woman who excites them.
  • Fact, it’s a man’s world and woe to you should you in any way ignore cat calls, sexual overtones, sexual insults then you risk being dealt with swiftly with a name calling showdown or stripping if you are unlucky.
  • Fact, this is not about dress code it is a power game by a miserable group of low lying, crude, hypocritical …….. (fill in the gap) men who because of their low esteem, lack of confidence have to mete out violence to women in order to feel vindicated that they are real men. These men are cowards of the worst kind, the ones who can only act in packs likes wolves as there is safety in numbers.

My heart bleeds for all those women who have had violence dished to them in the last few weeks; it bleeds for the two young who have been stripped naked in Nairobi and Mombasa. It bleeds for all those cucus who have been abandoned by their families, who have no one to take care of them in their sunset years and yet the only care that they receive is a beast of a man raping them as he wills.

Since when did the Kenyan men become the moral authority and police of the society? Since when do I have to hire bodyguard for my young daughter because she is literary scared to venture out in public on her own. And why is the authority namely, the county government elected leaders, the women activists, the central government, the police et al doing nothing to curb these vices against women. Will these people only react when there is mileage to add to their CVs? Shame on them for turning a blind eye to this state of affairs.

Sign the petition in this link

 stand up  to be counted.


Today I had an encounter with a clueless and tactless human being. That I might pass this awful person as my friend, maybe my relative, is disturbing. That she might be someone I once thought  I could lean on, I have gladly discovered that she is out to bring me down…….out to give me the negative energy that seems to be oozing out of her these days. ………out to give me low self esteem, well, shock on her, my self esteem unlike hers is at its best. I have no issues with my weight, my height my skin tone, my shrubbing in spoken English …………

BaartmanRemy this excuse of a woman insinuates   that I cannot pass through an aisle of seats cos I’m too fat. My backside, her implication that my African endorsement is too large to fit between a miserable aisle is an insult to my person.  I thought of Saartjie Baartman and all she went through when she was ridiculed those many years ago in Paris. African women when shall we ever accept that the western yardstick is not our yardstick for beauty? Let her learn that I am beautifully and wonderfully made. Cliche huh…… but I have never heard it sound more true than it did today.

Why should my weight bother her, cos I wondered, has she ever stopped to think that her being under weight bothers me? Could she be anorexic or bulimic, is she  HIV positive …… all these things Remy passed through my mind, but my mother taught me well; never to say something malicious, ill intended to my friends and family. A word once uttered can not be recalled.

Okay let me start from the beginning.  Today Remy you know that I was feeling very charitable in the home front. I was doing my yearly good deed, then this person decides to tell me, that I am too fat. Bear in mind that the good deed was because she  for one reason or another, she had failed to discharge her duties. Has she stopped to think that :-

  • I don’t  eat in her house? I can afford my own food thank you. And Remy there is no time that I have gone to beg for food from her, neither I would not if she was the last person on earth.
  • My good, well rounded derriere is mine and mine  alone; an endorsement that God gave me and I flaunt to the point of twerking. Thinking about it, she has a flat screen for a derriere and trousers, jeans (no wonder she does not wear them now) look like they are hanging off a clothes hanger. There is no time that I have ever asked this excuse of a person to carry it, my beautiful thutha, for me
  • She is as thin as a rail, in fact she looks emaciated. Like she needs to come to our house to get fattened.  Or maybe we need to lend her some of our food. Maybe she should go to hospital for some tests cos I am convinced that she is sick.
  • Why  in God’s name should it bother anyone  that the clothes  I wear, clothes that flatter  my full figure would be a source of bad influence to my child?! I, Remy’s mother can be a bad influence to my child so she insinuates. I might be teaching you tabiya mbaya. Has she for a minute  stopped to think of the bad example she is to society at large.

Remy, in life get raid of bad influences, bad friends, bad vibes, bad relatives,people who are in your life but they add no value to you, as they will always bring you down, they will always make you feel less than a woman, a person.

Peace Out

New Baby

Sweetheart I am so proud of you. You have yet gone through another milestone in your life. imagesMay be I have never told you this at least in not so many words, “You are the “bestest” daughter that a mother can ever ask for” (But do not let it go to your head).

When you were born, though I was not that young, my brain was, I knew nothing of babies let alone the act of giving birth. Since there was no internet at that time I absolutely refused to listen to birth story experiences. Remy you know that I am not one to investigating on issues that scare me. You were already overdue, so I checked myself to hospital with only a big fat novel to read as I waited for the doctor to do his stuff. I spent that day walking around the hospital and wondering why women made a hullabaloo of the whole issue.

The following morning 6.45 a.m. I was put on the IV since you were not in a hurry to put in an appearance. After about two hours of waiting for that excruciating pain that is legendary talked about the nurse came checked me up, asked me if I was in pain, and when I said a bit, she give me that look like are you for real. She adjusted that small tap in the IV supposedly to increase the dose and heighten my pain.

That sure did start contractions. They came in like three bullets, in rapid succession, I opened my mouth and let one big scream, wail or yell I have no idea which. All that I know is that the pain felt was ten times magnified. The nurse ran to my side and screamt to my ear, “breathe in, breathe in. Breathe in when you feel that the pain is about to start and release you breath as the pain enfolds you. Baby girl that was hard. I don’t take instructions easily, and that was hard to achieve.

During the next contraction, I open my mouth and lungs wide and let out the loudest scream that I could muster. Girl that was hard, the pain was out of this world. The nurse yelled I told you to breathe. “Hold your breath and ride the crest of the pain with it. It is not so painful if you do that” I did and shockingly it was not as painful. I fell asleep immediately, dreamt wild dreams for the next ten minutes, woke up with start, confused at where I was. My big fat novel was under the pillow, and a great friend. I would read it for the next twenty or so minutes before starting the whole cycle again.

Remy I learnt at that point in my life that it is easier to take instructions (Haahahahah) from one who is a professional. For the next six hours, I spent it waiting for my three bullets of pain, one long unbearable pain, ten minutes of wild dreams and twenty minutes of sheer novel ecstasy. You, Remy, my bundle of joy? was born at  about 7.30 p.m.

You were angry to the world and you let it known that you had arrived to leave your mark with a big bang. You cried as if you would never stop. Remy my baby, go conquer the world, never let it subdue you. Learn how to take instructions if need be, but above all be true to yourself and your God.


Loud Deafening Silence

Hi Remy, I know that I have been quiet the whole of this year and I am sorry. I guess I did not know what to say, what to write about so I chose to keep quiet. Unfortunately, now, I hear that silence shouting across my ears and it is too loud, I have to break my silence.

Remy, when you went to high school about seven years ago I never told you but the thing that haunted me most was not the thought of missing you because I knew that there is no single day since you were born that I do not think of you. What scared me out of my wits was I would no longer have anyone to talk to every night since you would be in boarding school. I had no use and did not wish to have a mbooch. In short, though you know that I have no fear of being alone I hate silence, you know that quietness that if God forbid a precariously stored sufaria stumbles to the floor with a loud bang, I start calling for the police or hiding behind the door and peeping with one eye to see who has the guts to make a late house call. I hate silence. I must have some noise for me to survive otherwise I would go mad. That’s is why I have to sleep with the radio on!

When you were younger, actually in primary school do you recall that I would make idle conversion in car and if you were not mad at me then you would go on and on  about the happenings at school. If you were mad, getting a single mumbled hi from you was like trying to draw water from a stone. The car would be filled with that silence that you could almost hear what one is thinking. Then, I used to go on and on about nothing to break the silence.

You know during Mass just after the prayers of the faith when the priest says that we can make our own private petitions to God, for less than a minute the church goes deathly quiet and you can almost if you listen keenly hear some of your neighbours thoughts. Most of us do not actually pray, and some of the most unlikely and uncanny thoughts creep in. “What did I say to so and so cos he no longer seems to be interested in me”, “ Max has the hots for me and may be I should…….” When the priest finally says “Lord hear us” there are too many people who are jolted back to reality that they are in the house of God and the church is usually filled with the clearing of throats amid the mumbled “Lord graciously hear us”! The guilty are always afraid. On a light note may be that is why the interlude of silence is so short actually less than a minute because the priest knows that the human mind is very volatile so he does not give time us to think ungodly thoughts. I have never been able to put in a prayer edgewise anyway apart from “Thank you God…… “ and the rest goes blank.


Remy I am scared of the silence that you can hear a pin drop or cut with a knife as the clichés go. I mean the silence that when I enter the sitting room, and you were relaxed on the seat as you usually do, you give me that glare that would put off the sun and hastily retreat to your room for the rest of the day. “I will kill that girl one day “I say to myself. “Who does she think she is? She has no respect for me, her mother” This kind of silence is evil, it is negative, it makes us think the worst of people, wish them ill (even unconsciously). Am empty mind is the devil’s workshop!

Remy if you are mad at someone, with someone, and by someone let him or her know. Let them know that they have hurt you, gentle kind words heal, they heal the soul and put you right with God.

Man Up, Johnny Bravo!!!!

Yesterday as I ate lunch, I was joined by three late twenties early thirties young men who were accompanied by a lady of the same age. As I quietly ate my matumbo, chapo and sukuma, I was able to pick up that the three were working colleagues who were forced to take their lady visitor (she was from Ghana) for lunch. The men sat and assumed that the lady did not wish to make conservation at all, so why not talk CARS.  Of cos either due to training  (training that the African woman should not take part in social discussion when men are discussing “important” issues) or lack of interest the lady did not join in.  She sat quietly until one of the men asked her to confirm what car she drives. I have no recollection of what happened but, I soon drawn into a conservation of how women are materialistic and think only about money.

By the end of my thirty-minute lunch, I had made the following conclusions:

  •  Women are materialistic and will only “go for a man” if he has money, if he is rich. It was heartbreaking to hear a man equate love and marriage to money. Remy if you ever meet a man like this run, and run very fast. This is the kind of man who will tie you up, you will be the mother of his babies and he will provide for you very well but you will have to fend for yourself when issues of companionship and emotions get into play. You are in his house for show.
  • It is hard to be a man. This lot of men Remy is confused, men who think that there are set rules for man to show him how to behave, what to do, how to be macho. This is the man who will not show any emotions when told that his mother, father or child has died. He has to be a man, and men do not cry. Remy let me tell you a secret, true men cry. True men are not afraid to be men, they are not afraid to act and do what a man should do, provide, love and protect his family in all ways that he can.
  • It also dawned on me that we as parents have failed. In our quest to look for money, we have let the mbooch and the school perform our parental duties for us. We are not there to mentor our teenage son when he is initiated into manhood, we leave it to the church and some self-appointed mentors (at a fee) who we have no reference on  to teach the young man on how to be a man. The government has gone a step further and given the boy child a complete blackout while the girl has all the backing with multiple programmes. C’mon men man up! The best man to teach your son on how to be a man is his father not Little Suzy and Johnny Bravo’s mum.

Today’s Imagefather, that is my generation of fathers are bad role models. Remy do you remember the number of fathers who attended school meetings during your school days. Did your father ever do? How many times did you do your homework with your dad? How many times did you go to bed and your father was around to tack you in? My  intention is not to put a rift between you and your dad, I know that you have a special relationship with him, what I intend to do is to open up your eyes in that though men, your fathers and our husbands provide they have delegated their father duties to others.

  • Today’s father is a bad role model because they do not bond with their sons. They do not relate to them in any way apart from when he the father wants something done in , to or on the car. It is only when the son becomes a man through the proscribed rites that the man is hit by the truth there are now two men in the house and as the animal kingdom dictates, the dominant male rules the coop.
  • One of the young men knew that men and women are wired differently, which is very good. Like Johnny Bravo they are all set to go but where to? But how different are they wired Remy? That is a lesson for another day.

Remy as this was not talk was not to castigate men, I hope that you will point your boy friends to the right path and make them feel that you the young ladies are not their threat but rather their friends.