The 100 Day Challenge Meet Up #2

Behind the curtains

Event organizing is a gamble:

Organizers do their best to estimate how many people will show up, prospective attendees do their best to stay silent and wait to see who else will be attending.

A standstill of sorts, until the due date is dangerously close. Days to the event you’re worried if it will flop or if it will happen at all. By then no organizer wants to make any extravagant plans.

But I let all this stress be handled by the very skilled Trezer, Neema and Ndanu, and they very much make it happen!

Behind the curtains are conversations like:

“Carrying (snacks) for some of us is a herculean task, waaah”

“I figured that would be the case for guys, but come on guys, we did these picnic things in primary. The other option would be to contribute and have sandwiches made. . . ”

 “Sandwiches hutengenezewa wapi? *hides*”

 “Lol, you are not asking this question and hiding.”

 “Edwin pata bibi haraka!”

Haha

The meet up

A cool crowd shows up.

Like revelers, we decide that the August memorial park cannot contain us. In a matter of minutes, ideas are bouncing off each other before Lunar Park becomes the chosen spot for awesomeness – Merry go rounds, boat rides and stuff.

We march straight to a supermarket and exchange our money for supplies. Only Tony’s roast mbuzi is missing, but we pretend it’s there, and that way he agrees to chauffeur us to the fresh territory. Fortunately his humongous car can contain all of us.

Through it all, I’m silently amazed at an outpouring of love:

• Tosh had offered a free meet up venue, and now a vehicle to take care of our commuting needs;
• Ndanu is unable to make it, and she sends a huuuuuuge cake for the team.
• And there’s Cynthia Kimola giving that mellow voice at no charge.
• The rest of us make time and sacrifices I’ll never know about

I’m silently wondering, when did people become so giving? Only God can cause such overwhelming awesomeness. We talk about dreams, our experiences and members’ ventures that we’re willing to support. We talk about God.

In between it all, I’m watching the youngest member of Team 100 by extension, an eight year old darling.

She’s assembling mini-rubber bands into a wristband and she’s swift! Hell, she could do this with her eyes closed, I can’t even do it to save my life.

At 8 years old, she’s making money – this little wristband costs me 20 bob, and when I tell her that I want to buy all her stock for the day, she doesn’t blink when she says: “Just know that 20 of these will cost you 600 bob.”

Camaan!

Team 100 meet up 3

We will dare to go to the outskirts of Nairobi, and have lots of fun. By then, a few more members will have completed their challenges. At that time, we’ll carry books to donate to the Book Bazaar – an initiative by one of us, and yes a few more fun faces will join us!

Or who knows? The Mombasa Edition might be right up!

___

The 100 Day challenge is an open group on Facebook, whose members keep each other accountable in individual journeys of self improvement. Some of the bloggers who made it to the second meet up blog here: Mercie here and here; Poshia; Kasiva; Maich; Neema and Cynthia. 

Musings

1. I probably have the yellowest socks on earth. Can’t people accept just me as I am? Deal with it 🙂

Apparently perfect for camping because I can be spotted by choppers when in distress – my brother’s very useful advice

2. So the other day my supervisor asks if I’m planning to marry in the next FY because he’s already drafting a budget and wonders whether to factor my wife’s insurance or not. C’mon not you too boss . .

3. Life is going faster than the white lines on a highway driving, we know we need to stop and relax . . But how exactly do you do find true contentment in relaxation? – sleep all day, watch movies, tour the world?

4. We know what we must do to make our lives better, but we procrastinate.. . .

🙂

The truth >> Life will always be busy. Start.

5. Making our lives better includes switching from Safaricom to Airtel., why is this so difficult?!

A love affair with photography [II] – Nyeri High school

8 am, Sunday:
a phone call comes in, I’m drowsy with every intention to sleep in/ go to church/then nap again;

but it’s a call laced with an opportunity to bond with my boy and we havn’t touched base for a while, I find it too tempting to resist.

12:01pm
We’ve driven about 250 kilometres from my bed.

2pm
We’re inside a rugby pitch because,

Several Nyeri High school alumni have organized a match with the current school team. But I’m no alumni here. .

I’m snapping away.

The setting: think of it as Blankets and Wine | Band: no musicians just players – the good kind | Music: from groans of men and the sound of their footwork racing at the speed of light.

As an alumnus describes their team: it’s called Kuhema FC – some havn’t been on the pitch for years,

but they win somehow.

With them are hot babes, impressive automobiles – the things high school kids care about, especially babes 🙂 But these alumni are doctors and blue-chipped executives here to inspire them to dream, and focus on more than just rugby – excellence in academics.

They later set up a fund to improve Rugby at Nyeri High school, from purchasing balls, shoes, scrumming machines. . .

Before all that though, the game..

Twende kazi!

Back there is Nyeri Hill, climbing

They sure pulled the crowds 🙂

The alumni will be getting them new playing shoes etc etc

The rain is falling, but the boys don’t stop at nothing. .

Anything you’d do for your old school? They need you.

A love affair with photography [I]

Photography and I always had this complicated relationship; meeting in common places, then stares and drooling but none of us making a move really, just some plain courtesies, and a hope that she’s thinking what I’m thinking . . .

Honestly, I didn’t care much for my unit in campus.

It was scheduled on a Friday afternoon – a time when my attention was totally sold to colorful weekend scents; I found the DSLR we used too old, complex and irrelevant . . .  the dark room too dark and the developer/ exposure chemicals very much nauseating.

The reason I probably stuck on was because it was a compulsory unit. But what the history books havn’t said yet is the real reason: that there was a lass I had my eyes on, and we somehow got paired up by the lecturer. .

This meant doing practical sessions together, ha! My enthusiasm for the course hit an abnormal high. Oh I couldn’t wait for days we went shooting, always hoping for complex assignments that would keep us glued together studying the complexities of photography, ahem.

But my photos, well . . . were mostly guess work.

Photo credit | The Chive

She taught me a thing or two though. I aced it, sighing a relief as I walked out of those gates thinking me and photography we were done.

Only I didn’t know my career would take a dive into this!

Fortunately through the love-hate relationships, God has been sending me some angels in the form of Nazaryan a war photographer, and Kelly who makes humanitarian photography look sexy. I’m not kidding, go look. And it’s Kelly who gave me this . .

… through it I’m learning to capture emotion, to take a moment, raise it and suspend it to eternity.  . to reveal what people are truly feeling.

Tough nut.

But I also recently enrolled at PhotoMagic. I’m starting to see that those subliminal feelings we’ve had all along are actually something. The sparks and the glow . . . my, what a fire this is turning out to be!

Eva – An Epilogue

Start here: Part 1, Part 2 and then. . .

__

Wasn’t I pretty enough?  – a pretty misleading question, because break-ups happen when a guy has no idea what he’s looking for, or the lady, or issues with both, or a lot of other things . . . But I’m no guru, so I let that rest.

Thing is I met up with Eva – after the aftermath [is that even proper grammar?]

Naturally a poetic soul, because whenever her world is floating in a mushy bubble, words march out so expressively, even in the most mundane of conversations; and when backed by that excellent command of language she has, everything she says is poetry.

Except when she’s nursing a break up.

Like now.

I hate it that she’s here again. After all that progress.

Sigh, I even remember the glint in her eyes. Finally a guy, who looks promising! Hope this works out. She had told me.

And now as I ponder, it hits me that her story is quite generic – torn up hearts, dashed hopes, deceit, pain everywhere. .  Makes you wonder when mushy got so messy.

We sit in silence.

Then a conversation springs:

> Do you think a relationship would last longer if the couple doesn’t make love until he puts a ring on it?

But you have to make love first to see whether you’re compatible . . .

Hmm. . Divergent views. We’re sitting in silence again.

Kweli what do you guys do for fun? No drinking?

> No

Making love?

> No.

What about making out?

Silence.

Boring!

Now we burst out laughing.

Are we laughing at each other or with each other?

We don’t care. We laugh on.

Eva – part 2

See part 1 here:

On a random cloudy day, she stumbles into a four-piece-mahogany-imitation-dining-table that she had badly wanted to buy.

Some banter with the uniformed sales guy, before noticing how attentive he was, and she starts thinking hmm. . . he’s sort of good looking, maybe two years older, and darn, he’s smart! What he’s even doing in a furniture shop???

She’s not so keen and lets it slide.

But when she finds out he owns the shop, she hopes they will exchange numbers somehow; not because she’s that easily impressed but she figures there’s got to be something special about such a guy.

It’s time to haul her stuff into a hired Hilux waiting outside/

It’s time to offload/

Mr. handsome his boys are doing the heavy lifting to her corridor. Those arms though. .

A fortnight later, he wants to coffee.

Turns out he’s the smooth kind, and has a way of listening, throwing in just the right uhhms and oohs, nodding, shaking his head this way, as the conversation flows. Oh he’s staring into her eyes like they’re the best he’s ever seen.

Eva finds a second coffee too tempting to resist, then fourth and a fifth;

they’re getting more elaborate now. The sixth for instance is dinner at her house. Oh look, now they’re feeding from each other’s spoons, she’s giggling. . she had waited for so long to feel this way again!

The guy has no qualms helping out with the dishes, fixing a dozen tasty meals several dates later.

Now she knows this one is here to stay, and she lets her innocence go yet again.

Then he’s suddenly busy /

now he’s always meeting up with the boys /

their movie nights, dinners all replaced by a thread on Whatsapp, while the strings of her own heart are precariously stretched, parched, aching to feel in-love again if only for one more minute.

But it never comes/

it’s all too familiar, she knows she has to wake up from the reverie/

and start over. Again. Yet again.

Fool.

Eva

Eva – classy, seductive, fun;

with a quiet confidence that unnerves the men she dates.

Unusually smart: she’ll talk about world history, throw in Aristotle, Alexander the Great and punctuate it with the Pyramids of Egypt with astounding eloquence, whenever such topics swivel over. But she’s no nerd, she says, and doesn’t even remotely resemble one.

Underneath her pillow is a 50 shades of Grey novel – the latest sequel.  She has read through 11 Minutes as well. These two, among other steamy content, are her manuals through the loins of men;

who’ve been treated to unforgettable nights, over the last two years, as she tries to forget him;

washing his memories with bottles of Johnnie Walker. Apparently, Johnnie walked into her organized heart, lodged there for a while, before overturning everything he found leaving it in a battery of chaos – no matter how much she tries to paddle back to the oceans of love, she’s always rowing back to the banks of caution;

as she sips her drink, as she sips her drink.

What if another guy comes and hurts me again? Because when she loves, she loves through her pores.

Photo credit | Blog Walker Art

But the indulgence is slowly fading.

She’s starting to feel her heart beat again.

The two lovers

She’s a smooth poetess, he’s a writer, a suave charmer.

He dreamt of their words dancing around each other someday, smiling, hitting notes to make a beautiful orchestra.

Photo credit | Img Kid

On some days, it was he – head over heels.

On others it was she.

Their love, swinging on a thermostat – like the sun and moon. Gazing at different times.

The two lovers. . .

Of men and purpose

I struggle reading long posts.

You must be really good to make me stay till the end, like Zulu; or with content that rivets me so much that I’m nodding every few lines, like this man > Wamboye who writes on Christian dating, relationships and marriage. Once in a while I stray to The New Yorker and find a story like A cheater’s guide to love, and I stay right on it. Devoid of the foul language, it’s hilarious, a bit relateable but mostly, like all the blogs I mentioned, it speaks about love.

Love.

and masculinity are inseparable cords. An audio captured at a men’s forum, jumped right at me, because it ties these with a more central theme: purpose. Getting it right is the mark of a man.

I put some highlights below acknowledging how flawed I am. The meat is when you listen to it, as mine are just disjointed notes like Wamboye’s. Haya baas!

Source | Good Men Project

____

Where purpose is unknown, abuse is inevitable

Microwave men will want progress without process.  If the process is right, progress will be inevitable.

Lazy men refuse to pay the price for their purpose, and purposeless men have never made good husbands. You will either fall in love with comfort, or greatness. You cannot fall in love with both.

You will only birth greatness to the extent of discomfort you want to bear.

Jesus, a man who knew His purpose. .

“I know where I came from and I know where am going. . “ [John 8:14]

“This is why I was born, and for this I have come to the world to bear witness to the truth.” [John 18:37]

“I have brought you glory on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do.” COMPLETING [John 17:4]

Purpose begins with admitting that we belong to God – we are God’s own handiwork. He ingrains our purpose in our inner design

Ignorance of that purpose does not cancel the purpose.

So we must constantly mull at our origin, and ask why we are here. Then again we must constantly mull at at our exit, because

If your exit does not cause us to miss you, your presence was unnecessary in the first place.

You will only remembered for the problems you solved, or the ones you created.

__

I’m learning that when men are intimate in their walk with God, they will use their purpose for good.

“The proof of your purpose is when you take care of your walk with God more than your work for God.”

Your thoughts? 

The conversations

Some real life conversations leave you speechless, recorded a few below:

1. The wanderer

“I was excited to be a daddy!

Then when my daughter was just a few months old, my brother came in one day and raped her. It was so brutal, she died just a few hours later. That cut through me like a knife, and together with my in-laws, we started hunting him down.

We were all looking for him, but when we didn’t find him, they came for me. They said that I was the one hiding him, and could hear nothing of my appeals, nothing about my pain.

It got so bad they took my wife from my, and now started to pursue me, to kill me. they mobilized the village. I had to escape to save my life.

It’s been 5 years now. I don’t even know where my wife is. Yet I cannot return.

I came to find work in Nairobi, and wherever I find work, I use aliases; I avoid town centres, even the small trading centres, only going there when I have to. I can’t afford anyone from my village knowing where I am.”

2. The wedding bells that won’t ring

[Text] Did I tell you I am engaged?

No

So the guy was to come for ruracio this month . . . but he started giving excuses and yet I had told my parent even the date. But when I ask about it, we fight.

Waah

Yes, it’s embarrassing. We’ve been engaged for 4 years now.

Nooo!

But I now feel like giving up.
We had set a date for our wedding but now we don’t discuss it because we fight.
Yet he’s so insecure, keeps saying I’m cheating on him . .

Am not under pressure but 4 years is a long time and am not so young.

I see. .

I meet sweet guys like you but I can’t date ‘em because am ‘engaged.’ Then they later marry and they are like, you are still with that guy?

3. The wedding bells that will ring

[Text] Hey, I hope you’re doing well, sleep well.

What a surprise, am doing well. You too I hope. Sleep well.

Wait, are you okay?

I’m fine, I just thought of you. Up at this time?

Great, I am but won’t be long. .

I’m actually planning to get married, but I still don’t understand why I don’t feel what I felt when I was with you. .

4. The answer you’re afraid to find

“My wife was very pregnant expecting our second child. As she neared labor, I found my schedule so hectic, I couldn’t take her to the hospital. A strong woman. She took herself there – that was before the pains begun.

She called me when she arrived, and we chat for a few hours into the night.  In the morning when I went to visit her, suddenly doctors and nurses there became shifty.

I later found out that she had passed on, together with our new son.

The pain and agony I went through cannot be expressed. Then about a month later, someone called me. It was a woman who said she was in the ward with her that night, and even overheard some of our conversations that night.”

She said she saw what happened to her that night, and if I ever wanted to know, I could meet her. The tough decision has been to wait a little till I mourn, or go find out right away, or just let it go because of the bitterness it will bring me . . .