Monthly Archives: November 2014

My Dress, My choice

I thought I will not write about this subject. I have resisted the urge to comment and weigh on it on social media but finally i cannot keep silent any more. I need to speak.It is wrong to strip a woman no matter how much your sensibilities are being assaulted by what she is wearing! No man dead or alive has the right to strip a woman naked. It is not a mere matter of exposing her nakedness and shaming her, it is outright inhuman, because stripping a woman is assaulting her dignity. Now how are we- Kenyan women to step out of our houses, now that we have the so called “guardians of public decency.” My quarrel is not with the hooligans stripping women on the streets, or sexually assaulting women on public vehicles. Those are outright criminals who belong in jail and I am hoping that the special police unit constituted by evolution cabinet secretary on Friday will do its work thoroughly and bring these people to justice. My quarrel instead is with those people on social media proclaiming that women should dress decently if they do not want to be stripped. These so called defenders of decency turn that horrendous act and blame the woman for the assault. This is outright wrong. No woman should be blamed for any act be it rape, sexual assault, domestic violence stripping- acts that violate her dignity as a woman. When we walk out of our houses with an outfit that takes a lot of time to decide, we are not wearing our clothes to appease or attract men, it is our affirmation of our dignity. We have issues that we struggle with, in our lives and clothes are the only things that make us affirm our worthiness to ourselves. Men should realise that what we dress in is our choice, a choice they are not allowed to weigh in, which they have no right to uphold on the pretence of upholding morality and they have no right to strip any one!

MINE

My body has refused food. I dreaded this, I had a premonition that it will happen, but I wasn’t prepared. You see when your body starts to became a stranger to you, rejecting small things like drugs and milk then, you cannot trust it. My body is very special to me. We have overcome a lot with it. I am what in political correctness they call a plus size, meaning I am size 16, unapologetic about it and I draw stares and comments wherever I am. It hasn’t been easy- not to mind what people say about it but I am comfortable with it and I draw a lot of pride. Because of our intimacy, then I notice every small change in it. Two weeks it itched, and I noticed and I rushed to a doctor and that’s where it began. My doctor thought it was worms, I thought it was allergy, but because he is the expert he prescribed de-wormers and I conceded. But the itch did not disappear, it actually worsened and I had the most infuriating itch ever. Back in April I had the same itch and I had consulted a different doctor because I was away from home, the doctor asked only one question, what did you eat that you never do and for the life of me, I could not pinpoint any new additions to my diet, granted my diet doesn’t change. I am just not a food connoisseur. That particular doctor gave me three prescriptions and after taking them I was well on-my way to recovery. I never asked what the prescriptions were and therefore I was in a dilemma when my doctor insisted that I had worms, I was confused. So when his prescription didn’t work, I choose not to go back to him or even try to find a cure, I was determined to find the allergen that was the cause of my misery. I suspected meat but never suspected any other substance. I started by eliminating meat from my diet, I was prepared for the long haul because it can take some time before one can determine the problematic foodstuff. But lucky me, I did not wait for long, last night I was so tired after two days of travelling and for a quick fix, I thought eggs would be the perfect light snack. I prepared my eggs, sunny side up, ate them up and went to bed. Little did I know that I had stumbled on the cause of all my problems. In short I woke up at five this morning with my body itching all over again and the more I tried to scratch it the uglier-red did my skin got. Suffice to say I am a happy woman even though my skin looks like a sausage because of the eggs…

What surprises me is the way my body has continued rejecting substances. I remember when I was twelve I caught malaria. Back then quinine was the only drug used to combat the disease. I remember lying in bed at 3am and enduring a million needle-like pricks all over body after a quinine injection. Then came the sulphur based antibiotics two years ago. I had some chest pains and one doctor prescribed some poor man’s antibiotic and four days down the line, my smooth chocolate skin- at least I think it is, had the ugliest lizard-scales I had ever seen. I was given an antidote and instructed to always inform any doctor of my allergic to sulphur. Then last year the culprit was milk and this time round I was informed it was lactose intolerance and I became wary of my old friendship with milk.

Well I do not know what my body will reject, but I am not afraid because it’s my body and I love it meanwhile, cupcakes, black forests, green forests (there should be a green forest cake) and all sorts of cakes and of course eggs are no-no, I should thank my body for choosing my diet! Yippie!

Dating a writer

I am dating a writer- a critical writer- at that! Am I or was I? I was…then it all went south. The tragedy is that it might have been my misuse of commas while I texted or my gross grammatical errors in the name of trying to save energy while typing, who does that? It was good, the dating not the typing. It was good while it lasted, but then what lasts these days? Five months… five months of unbridled pleasure and passion and then silence…unexplained,cold, bitchy silence.!No phone calls, no texts, nothing from the brilliant writer. My one unanswered call and a text in three weeks is  enough indication that things aren’t right. I have read all there is about breakups and the one advice that i shouldn’t call or text is proving to be a tall order to execute . So before i succumb i decided to pen it down.

  I thought dating this brilliant mind would open endless vistas of ideas in my brain, I thought somehow all that brilliance would rub into me- talk of being vain- and by sheer luck, I might pin the next blockbuster novel or movie, or even come up with the best thesis ever. Well I was wrong, we never argued and of course we never discussed any great ideas, we never even talked about anything other than the humdrum of life and lastly his brilliance never rubbed on me. I should have been wiser!

Problem is, I honestly believed that this would work… not the soaking of the brilliance but the affair. After all we felt it way back, why did it all go wrong? It must be this football thing- does the club that a guy support really matter in a relationship? I really should ask the next one man I meet which English football club he supports prior to becoming serious. There is some sort of tragedy every time I date any guy who supports Chelsea or Manchester United and it seems I have the bad luck of meeting these guys. So I am writing a reminder to myself to stay away from the above. After all I am a woman and I don’t give a hoot about football and no, we never argued about my dislike for soccer and yes I listened eagerly without pretending when he talked about his team! I know this might sound like a lie but I am a good listener, a pretty good one!

I do not know why he left. He never gave any bloody explanation! I can withstand a breakup but somehow the men I date seem to think if they say they are leaving, I might have a heart attack or break something.  Truth is, I  consider myself a  damn strong woman who can take anything! But that is a story for another day.

So I am writing this as a way of finding some sort of closure. I need it to move on and if I don’t write it out, this story will torture me until I scribble it all over the place. So Mr critical writer, did I lack intellectual acumen that could stimulate your brilliance? Was it my misplaced commas and dangling modifiers? Or my sheng texts which competed with your high brow English? Or was it my disinterest in soccer? What exactly went wrong? Did i say anything unbecoming? Did i deny you anything? Did I fail to meet your expectations? or did your desire for me wane? I actually thought this was working. Whatever it was, your indifference actually hurts. It really does. Every gal deserves an explanation- even if it’s a damn lie why things aren’t working. I enjoyed the illusion, because in hindsight, it just looks like that. I wish I never believed anything that you said-especially those declarations of love, but its too late for regret, fare thee well Mr critical writer!