Hits & Pains

Thursday last week rose as a celebratory day to mourners than a sad one. The presence of prominent persons in a funeral often draws attention away from the deseased.Kamaru’s family was no exception.The old man had, through his 75 years alive, earned himself a state burial.This however, was no reason to forget why and how he had become as popular as he was.

As I followed the ‘event’ from home, my tea got cold several times as under normal circumstances, I would have been one of the live ‘mourners’on the ground. The first thing I noticed was the ‘Praise and Worship’ team which consisted of the greatest vocalists in the Gikuyu Gospel Industry. The old man was deserving of synchronized harmonies.

The other very noticable thing was the sermon from the Bishop Harrison Ng’ang’a.It is obviously not a wonder to have scary sermons in funerals but this was an impromtu stage performance for the delegates. A leader who starts any public communication with multiple references to himself is just plainly out to brag.I am a very keen follower of words and I analyze on fact, not persons. Any religious speaker should know that in such a gathering, not every person is a believer in his faith.There is nothing on earth as annoying as a preacher trying to touch on issues he has no idea about. You know, like a nun telling you sex is bad? It dilutes his word and makes it tasteless. The first slap the musicians got was from that man of God. Hail God for He chooses each and all and the learned Father Wamugunda was the clothe that wiped our tears. When Athuri a Kiama kia Ma did their service uninterrupted, I regained peace.

The President’s abrupt announcement on the invite to Statehouse was the second slap. ‘Wakuje, nitawachinjia’ automatically made me pick an outfit for Tuesday in my head.Hope was swimming my way as I joined my fellow recording artists in a discussion group on Whatsapp.’When such a door opens, nobody can shut it’, so I thought. I had no time to think of the purpose for the invite at that time and I’m sure I wasn’t alone. The creators of the group said it was meant to unite us, so that we set up a meeting on the agendas to table to the President when we met him.The meeting was set for Friday, 4:00pm.

The Bluesprings arena was full when I arrived. I managed to get a seat pretty close to the stage. I had never seen 90% of the people in that room before that day and as I listened to them speak, before the meeting started, one thing was clear; they all wanted to go to the State House.As the commitee members arrived and started with introductions, my hope was starting to become frail. “In a hall consisting of 2,000 musicians, why would we need to be introduced to other musicians so deeply? We are not fans.” My mind could not fathom. The other obvious time waster in gatherings is a forced Praise session and prayers consisting of utterances like ‘it is God who has said this time and no man can say no’. At around 6:30, the purpose of the meeting started, obviously after a very disturbing talk by Ben Githae. The quote’If you think education is expensive, wait and see what ignorance will cost you’ started to make sense.

Albert Gacheru of the ‘Mwendwa Wakwa Mariru’ hit read the agendas they had written and the first one was SKIZA.My ears shut and my mind ran automatically.When did Uhuru get a job at Safaricom as an agent? What could he possibly do about Skiza? Who has ever been forced to use SKIZA? Come to think of it, SKIZA is the most useless innovation. Why should one pay for their callers to be entertained? How does it benefit the artist?I realized at that point, that even those who had asked for the meeting had no idea who they were going to meet and what they wanted from him. I decided then, to ask a certain lady next to me what she hoped to get from the visit and she said “Ona angituhe ngiri ikumi ikumi no sawa” (even if he gives us each 10,000 shillings, it would be okay).I almost shed a tear. I felt so out of place. I felt wronged. I felt disrespected for being invited to such a gathering. It felt like those cheap campaign meetings where you sit down for hours, listening to promises you know will never be fulfilled only to get 2,000 bob.I felt unsafe.My father did not educate me for this.Kamaru had not died for this.

The heckling that came after John De’Mathew left, of people not wanting to be represented now made sense. Even I wouldn’t trust Githae with my 10K. I was in distress because I wouldn’t have had a problem with representation, but I wouldn’t want to be associated with anyone who would go to the highest office in the country to talk about his business choices. I knew then that I wanted nothing to do with all that but I would still, if given a chance, have liked to taste some ribs of royalty. That was a slap on my face.

Many things will be said about the cancellation of the meeting but I kid you not, there was no meeting. Everybody wanted a feast. There are musicians in the commitee who benefit from ‘knowing people in high places. The problems facing musicians can only be solved if every musician feels the pain. Not if governors share a few thousands with a few artists after funerals at Bluepost. They will obviously see the rest of us as ‘ini'(liver, meaning broke).

The gathering of around two thousand musicians in one place to me though, meant something. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but it was the beginning of something. One can only hope for something positive.


Gathoni Waweru.


Save my Soul

My every effort to understand religion proves useless. I have tried, Lord knows. I am either not foolish enough or bright enough to understand how Eve’s children gave birth to other children when there wasn’t any other family to help them conceive. The old testament’s beauty is in consequence. The laws of Moses, ‘An eye for an eye……..’ are a blessing we lost at calvary.

My brain can’t get around the fact that on the pentecostal day, the Holy Spirit descended on the disciples and one of them started speaking in Kikuyu. It is hard. It would have made sense to my grandmother, she knew no better, but I will need some explanation. I am hopeful because most followers of the word have great intellect and are more educated than I am so I’m just a pebble on the ground that needs searching and everybody’s got a torch nowadays.

Many a times, I read the old testament, not as a set of laws for a particular group of worship, but as a well-crafted book; pure art. I love the creative geniuses behind the scriptures. The things they were able to foresee remind me of Mugo wa Kibiro. I’m in awe.

As entertaining as the book is, the New testament is labyrinthine.
I’m open-minded enough to believe in the existence of persons who can save and deliver and heal(my forefathers did it) but I’ve never seen anyone being risen from the dead. And no, don’t tell me He is the son of God because when I was baptised, they also said I was a child of God. Why hasn’t He ever appeared to me in my sleep like my favourite Presbyterian preacher? Why am I not worthy? Is it my doubts? Because I can bet on everything I am that these things I’m writing, even preachers of the word have thought. That is why in Churches where the only way to be respected is to have attended Theology classes, they preach a few parables from Luke and the book of Malachi for tithes; things that make sense to them in the current world.

“If I’m a pagan of the good times, my lover’s the sunrise. Take the goddess by my side, she demands a sacrifice. Drain the whole sea, get something shiny. Something meaty for the main course, that’s a fine looking highhorse. What have you got in the stables?We have a lot of starving faithfuls…” sang Hozier, a controversial artist fighting for gay rights in places of worship. Don’t close this site at ‘gay’, read on….

Isn’t that what we do, sit the high priest on a gigantic chair at the alter and offer him the best? Currency the value of burnt sacrifice? Don’t we take our best to Him and in trusting his purity of heart and mind bow for his hand of blessing to feel our head? Isn’t that what Christianity is? Yes, I know about doing good and being merciful and giving and helping others and being selfless. Is that what we choose a day in a week for? Or do we wear our fine fabric so our needy neighbours see us as we go to offer the high priest our fine perfume and an ivitation to our family dinner on Wednesday?

I am a member of the Anglican church, least you think I’m an outcast. You can think whatever you want though, because a Church that asks me for 3,000 shillings for it’s refurbishment and does not revise my tithe and follow up when I miss a few months to know if I lost my job doesn’t sound Godly to me. I am sorry but the white robs won’t make me believe in the existence of heaven either. The only time I will need the cross is when I’m dead so that people do not fall into my dry bones as they pass.

Religion is too personal to be injected on infants like immunisation drugs. The teachings so lacking create a people so lurking. I seek help, I want answers but God is not to be tested or questioned, right?

You know then which God I follow? The God that is that is my Father; I’ve never knelt in front of my Father. I believe in a God that gets my jokes so I don’t have to apologise every time I say a church joke. I believe in the God I pray to naked in my bathroom so I do not have to dress in a certain way to be accepted in his presence.

Everything else is laws made by a set of sometimes like-minded, sometimes contradictory fellas. And in the Bible, you choose your angle.

Gathoni Waweru


Let’s talk the five senses: Sight (vision), hearing (audition), taste (gustation), smell (olfaction), and touch (somatosensation). Most of us are privileged to have all five in a functional state. You know it is a privilege when one isn’t working right. I know this too well because I can’t see clearly past half a meter with my bare eyes; thank God for Optica though, I have glasses and I protect them with my life because technically, they are my eyes.

I was introduced to a handsome boy by my best friend some time back. He was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. IMG_20170926_020207 I fell in love.

To now learn that the perfect looking boy has been diagnosed with SEVERE BILATERAL HEARING LOSS at the age of 1 year and 7months,I felt I had to do something.IMG_20170926_020221 I might not give him everything he needs but taking a step to create awareness on his condition is my contribution.

Ethan needs Ksh. 6 Million to get treatment in India. Kenyans have come together to raise medical funds before and that is what makes me believe that this is not too much to ask from you.IMG-20170923-WA0012

Send whatever amount you can to PAYBILL Number: 932588
Let’s give Ethan his sense of hearing back!
Give this handsome boy a normal life.

Gathoni Waweru.


I can’t spend the night
…for no reason
I can’t spend the night
..because I don’t have a set of changing clothes
Then I can’t spend the night
Because we will just talk over coffee then go to bed
Then I can’t spend the night
Because we will make out and you’ll want more
Then I can’t spend the night
Because I am getting used to sleeping in your arms
Then I can’t spend the night
Because I no longer know how to sleep without you
Then I can’t spend the night
Because I do not want to feel guilty for keeping my pants on overnight
Then I can’t spend the night
Because I am starting to love how good you are in the sheets
Then I can’t spend the night
Because it is the same thing over again
Then I can’t spend the night
Because your secretary calls you for calendar planning at night
Then I can’t spend the night
Because my hair stylist is only available at night
Then I can’t spend the night
Because your house is too small for us
Then I can’t spend the night
Because I am tired of you and your mistakes
Then I can’t spend the night
Because I do not see our future anymore
Then I can’t spend the night
Because someone else started spending the night
When you got tired of begging me
..to go back to spending the night.

Gathoni Waweru


For months now I have been looking for inspiration to write this but have failed. I’ve gone through social media searching related pages for pictures and quotes, downloading every comma and full-stop but haven’t felt  any force drive my fingers to actually type. Thanks to Alicia Keys and her NO MAKE UP campaign though, I can feel my heart finally pumping blood to my fingers and killing the numbness. I can feel the keypad seducing my finger prints. I can feel the hunger of my wordpress account and I am here. if not to make a change, at least to give my take on certain issues.

For the longest time, the black community has been seen as and made to feel not enough: Our girls are not beautiful enough, our ideas are not good enough, our god is not Holy enough, our men are not brave enough, we were and are simply not fit for a world that coats its grey walls with perfection.

Slavery handed us alternatives for our ‘imperfections’. Through it, we attained education and Christianity which made us feel closer than before to our masters. This obviously made us feel good. It is all we had hoped for. Educated men and women as well as people of the cloth were respected. Getting these things made one go from wearing rags to wearing a clean shirt and leather shoes. It is in the nature of man to want to achieve more than he has and the closer our black men got to the owners of big mansions and cars,those they had once cleaned nearly with their tongues, the more they wanted to be like them.

Generations after generations of black people thousands of years after slavery and the chase is still on. Nothing is legit unless accepted by the white man.

The black community has struggled and through bullets and drugs, it has managed to give the world names and people they can look up to. I do not need to mention names. Even we in Africa know these great people. People so great, yet so small in their own heads. People who moved masses, people who were followed, listened to and are quoted by other people wanting to be great just like them. What is the symbol of greatness though? Isn’t it believing in the power of your natural born abilities? Isn’t it loving how you came out of your mother’s womb and trusting whatever power that breathes life in to you to sufficiently provide you with the wisdom you need in your endeavors? Isn’t it being who you are and showing it to the world? Isn’t it taking pride in the skin you are and being an activist of the same? No! And what excuse do they have? “The world wouldn’t accept me that way.”

What is ‘the world’ if I may ask? Is it the trees that we have now cut down to build industries? Is it the water bodies we have covered with bridges and roads? Is it the wild animals that have now become domestic after we have built our homes in game parks or is it the PEOPLE?

I want to believe it is the people because they are the only ones from the list above with brains. If a man in Congo can bleach his skin and use the statement above as an excuse for it, it leaves me questioning if we even have the brains we so proudly say make us different from anything else created. You cannot be accepted as black by black people? Really? You perform in a Sean Donalds concert in Alabama once and you think white people will accept you more if you look like them?Oh, you’re asking who Sean Donalds is. Sorry, I have no idea either. All I’m saying is, people want to connect with who you really are. Anybody who wants you to change who you are is not even worth listening to.

Why does the media interview public figures? I will tell you. It is because, 0nce you impact the society even in the smallest way, people want to have a relationship with you. They want to understand that special thing about you. They cannot do that if everything about you is fake. This is why there is no longer a word like celebrity in my dictionary. Hell, I’ll just snap chat and get the same following Micheal Jackson had before he died.

Africa has been named one of the richest continents in the world, yet in Africa people sleep hungry. Our beautiful continent has scarred its knees begging the world for help. A world that we, by the fertility of our land have given a big belly.We soften its skin with our tea and coffee and it squeezes its feces to us and we feed on it like it’s maana from heaven. We have replaced our maize floor with nodules and we ask why our men cannot go two rounds in bed. The same people see our problem and make Tv shows about the matter. They tell us what to wear, what to eat, how to do things, and we go round the circle all over again. We stop using our brains because our heads have been programmed to work in a certain way by some tobacco addict script writer who was left by his wife, who’s apartment looks like shit because he cannot spend a night away from the bar. Yes, those are the people telling us how to live. Why? Because we do not believe in the power of our own nature.

Women are easily swept by forces and it is not something I’m proud of.





I rant a lot. I do. I’m not so good at speech so I rant through written word an it’s what keep me sane.

Today though, I’m not ranting. I am writing. I am talking. Talking about something that makes me uncomfortable, because it makes me uncomfortable.

November 2011, young ambitious Gathoni auditioned for a role at the Kenya National Theatre. She knew what she wanted. Had it all figured out: Theatre-connections-music-radio. That was the sequence of her goals. She had taken the first step an it bore fruits. She got the role. Rehearsals were to start on December, same year.

Rehearsals begun and ‘Nyambura'(the character) was supposed to meet ‘Waiyaki’ and fall in love with him. There was nobody in the cast to play ‘Waiyaki’. Two weeks later, some new guy joined the cast and he was supposed to play the male character ‘Waiyaki’. Warm your chair, this is where my story begins.

Second day of the second week after a rather uncomfortable scene, the new guy walks up to Gathoni and kisses her. Yeah, you read right. He places his lips on hers in front of everyone as if to make a point. She thinks nothing of it and life moves on. He was not all that anyway and she knew a boy would only be a distraction. They’d communicate but only because they were working together. Everyone though, was convinced that there was something going on.

The cast travelled for shows and when they were back in Nairobi, life continued as usual. Did the two talk after that, you ask? Yes. But Gathoni made it very clear that it was just friendship. She knew how boys like him were and she knew he wouldn’t give her what she wanted. Not at that age. He needed to kiss a few more frogs. They’d meet a few times. she even met his mother. She always knew what she wanted and nothing would have ever come between her and her dreams. Not even the ‘cute’ boy. That’s what the other girls called him. This was in 2012.

When they met again in 2014, the guy was dating someone. She was happy for him. He’d bring his girlfriend to her shows and they’d walk to the stage together. It was all good. He was on Tv now, Gathoni was doing good at the Theatre. He was dating, she was making a life; they were happy for each other.

March 2016, she lay on her bed not knowing what to do with her life. The theatre had turned into a desert; no shows, no hope. Being the kind of person she is, she knew she had to do something with her life; a new skill. She wanted to learn how to DJ and she knew just the right friend to ask the favor from. He had never said no to her before and even now he didn’t. Two days of ‘learning’ is all it took to rekindle something none of them knew still existed. Dj classes turned into something else. Are we dating now? Are you ready to settle? What of the other girl? What are we? Only one answer was given. The most passionate kiss I’ve ever experienced. It was enough.

April 2016, it was made official by word of mouth. It was enough for us. We are cut from the same cloth so we know when we say things we mean. Seven months of laughter, peace, freedom; nothing’s ever felt more real. My happily ever after was cut short by an Instagram post I will never forget ‘Fun day with my favorite girl’. It was the other one, not me. The one I had met in 2014. The one who came to my shows. The one I had no problem with. The one I said was pretty and looked good with him. This time, I felt betrayed, cheated, destroyed. He was supposed to be my best friend. He told me everything, even the women he wanted to shag, cause I shared everything too…. everything.

Why am I writing this in 2017, you ask? I’ll tell you. We are in the same industry. We meet more than we should and every time we are together, something happens, whether we are seeing other people or not. I tell myself I’m done, I know better, but it just takes ‘sasa’ to ask ‘uko wapi’.

My friends will get angry at me for this. ‘Oh, Gathoni, you expose your life so much, these people won’t respect you…. bla bla bla…..’ I will tell you why I wrote it. We are so fond of blaming people for our mistakes. I am writing this to say I am the one that messed me up, not him. I have to be true to myself an accept that I deviated from my goals and dreams and allowed him to take control of my heart and life. And I know I have the best girlfriends and they will hate him on my behalf but I’m just telling you ladies, don’t hate him, cause I don’t. And you might even see me with him tomorrow so jut say hi. Trust me to take care of myself. Do not fight my battles.

My song ‘Tigana na Nii'(leave me alone) was inspired by him , and I still went back. We spoke in depth and I remember everything he said that morning, at least the good things:’ This is how beautiful babies are made.. we will keep coming back to this….we are a creative powerhouse…let’s make our dreams come true so our babies never go through the same shit we do…nobody can ever take your place’. He’s always been good with words.

Am I hurt? Not really, I was prepared. I told you we talk about everything. It might take time before it feels ‘normal’ again but I’m good. I hope his girlfriend won’t have a problem with me doing a whole album for him. Honey, I have to make money out of this, you know me. And I might just name it after you. I mean, it’s just three letters. I must continue working on my dreams. I am so close.

Anyway…. “Send my love to your new lover, treat her better. We’ve got to let go of all of our ghosts, we both know we ain’t kids no more.
I’m giving you up, I’ve forgiven it all…” CC. Adele.

Adios Mi Amor
Gathoni Waweru

A Big Big Tune

Kenyans, oh how I love you. Can we talk?
They say we are a drinking nation. I don’t know about that but I have a question…. Are there some left who do not go to bars and night clubs? Do we still have people who work during the day then go home? How do these people get to know which song is new and which one is a hit?

I started with clubs because that is where majority of us get to first hear a song. Djs are given the privilege to choose what to feed us. Radio presenters also have this advantage. All we fans can do is just sit and wait because honestly, not all of us have sufficient internet to make YouTube our friend.

But, we have grown and we need to feed our souls as well as we do our heads as the whiskey goes down at Mojos, Tribeka, 1824, Space, Waves, Sixty Four, Sevens…. name them.

I wonder why Pascal Tokodi is only getting 100k views on YouTube. Why Sanaipei Tande is at 200k views, why? I know.. same reason why Starehe people chose Jaguar instead of Boniface Mwangi. Yeah, I did that. Mixed music with politics because I can. It is our dilemma and we need to deal with it.

Our hypocritical nature does not allow us to be true to ourselves. We hide under shades of comfort with who we think we are and we are very afraid of taking a step out of our comfort zone. In fact, what we hate most is someone pointing out our mistakes for us. We are all good with each other if we head for distraction together as long as no one says we should change the path. BUT I DARED SAY IT! We Kenyans are weak. We have given our lives to people who can’t put their shit together. We have refused freedom even if it is being handed to us on a silver platter.

Have you watched this: https://youtu.be/Em9gW38mE5s ..Why is it not being played after Tarrus Riley’s ‘Just the way you are’? And don’t tell me about BPM and shit, I’m surrounded by Djs.

Why doesn’t https://youtu.be/OT9YOFE5ukY come after that Congolese music we whine to?

Why don’t we celebrate Alicious like we do Chidinma? You’ve probably never heard of her. She did a collabo with Sautisol, it’s the only one they ever play. Here she is: https://youtu.be/Go19aMOJJiY

Yaani, ati Wahu gets 300k view. How now? How? Wahu ule mmoja wa ‘Sitishiki’. You guys are not serious. And don’t tell me she’s not making good music. We just complain we have nothing to play after ‘Cash Madame. What about this: https://youtu.be/txZsToWkTd0

Do not dare tell me we love club bangers. Why aren’t Fena and Mayonde getting enough love? https://youtu.be/gPOgv92D0AI And don’t tell me we love scandals, cause that’s what all misinformed people say.
Nyashinski is doing good because some of us have decided to search for the truth. It is very encouraging to see such love but I feel it is still low.

Muthoni Drummer Queen can’t get 100k likes…. maaaaannnnn…. I’M HURT

We are just lazy. We don’t want to go where the good music is. Kwanza ya Sanaa inaniuma. I checked her channel jana and was really hurt. Then I came across this FB_IMG_1502735226355
So we can talk about her tummy but can’t give her airtime? ‘Amina’ is at 275,551 view. Are you kidding me?

What is this culture tumejiwekelea wakenya? For a Kenyan musician to be recognized at home, they have to do a collabo with a known artist? Why can’t we enjoy good music simply because it’s good? Why do we celebrate music socialites and look down upon great musicians? We claim to be doing better than Tanzania, truth is, we are not. Look at the following and love these guys have from their people and even from us. Why have we refused to give the same to our own?

I need a vlog now because some of these emotions can’t be felt in words.

Gathoni Waweru.

Friday Night Life

Furahidaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy…. excitement kicks in. It’s like our lives depend on it. Like we don’t live any other day of the week. If Fridays were food,they would have been chicken strips dipped in honey and served with strawberries.

First Friday of August was a lucky one for me. Wallet, tibim! Mpesa, tialala! The pain of a fresh tongue piercing wouldn’t stop me from having fun and meeting friends.

I got to the Alliance Francaise to watch ‘Man Made Woman’.IMG_20170805_033011 Corridors were decorated with laughter hungry people, with artists scattered equally among the crowd. This was the main purpose of this paragraph. It is always a good feeling when one of our own has a show and we actually show up. The Wangari Maathai auditorium was warm. As Dj Ndisii worked his hands, we died with anticipation staring at Mudamba’s beautiful stage decoration.

We knew the wait was over as the light pointed center stage, and she appeared, looking like a ripe tangerine. This will pass, because I am a woman, but she looked like something you can just squeeze juice off of and never thirst again for life. Radio Maisha’s own Gathoni Njuguna was our curtain-raiser for the night. Ever since I’ve known this beauty, she seems to have her way around people’s hearts even when she has no idea what to say. You did good ma’.(Wish I took a picture)

Then came The Madam President looking like roses on a sunny morning.20604415_1468321316568327_6480544314204969859_n Diva, Mother-in law,Sister…. I understood the writings on the wall. It was a woman’s show. She explained the difference between a Woman Made by Man and a Woman made from Man. Smooth ride, interactive performance,a lively audience; heaven. But just as I made myself comfortable on my seat, show done!! Just like that. Felt like screaming ‘we want more’ but well… you take what you are given. Was it worth my money, Yes!! Every shilling!

9:00pm, I hate the busy city. Blue Springs Hotel, Thika road was my next stop. Kiengei Live was ongoing. IMG_20170804_111515I caught the last few lines of Kagesh Kamau’s performance, which was followed by a standing ovation and a heavy basket for him to take home. That is where Kikuyu comedy is at, ladies and gentlemen. Comedians are getting money from fans after their performances; very encouraging.

The main host of the show came in and took the house to its knees as usual. I have nothing else to say because, honestly, for me, after Kiengei gets on stage, anyone else who comes after is just there to fill it. Because levels, because lanes.
The highlight of the show was of course when Kameme Tv’s Kaziah wa Kariuki was called on stage to greet her fans. The love this woman gets from people is not half the strength she possesses. Mind you, she had come from work and had to get to the show to support her husband. I got a good shot.IMG_20170804_132041
‘Wi uthiu nduri mwithemere’

The night was gone, morning had come. A little meet and greet, beers and wine.. you know. Jambo Grill. Mugithi is the only way to keep people on the dance floor at 4pm. Anita Angel and Empress Mitchy gave we late comers a treat after the main performer left. Mathaga ma Mugikuyu.

Of course you don’t expect me to keep writing after mentioning 4pm. Unless you saw me after that, anything I did is none of your business.

Seriously though, it had been so long since I had fun ‘my way’ and yesterday was a beautiful one for me. Welcome back Kiengei Live. Madam President, I want more, next month maybe? :/

Let the weekend begin.
Gathoni Waweru


I am writing this a few minutes to 2:00pm from a stolen laptop. Well, it would have been borrowed if the owner wasn’t snoring so freely in his sheets. They say the only people awake at these hours are either in love, thinkers or psychos. I could be all, but the latter fits best.

Wallowing in my knowledge, floating in the sadness of my thoughts, hit hard by insomnia, words are the only way to find peace. I am too disturbed to sleep so I will write.I will leave my feelings here, hurt a few, shamelessly so, but i will write.

I am losing sleep out of concern for my future. I really want to make it in a society so sucked by systems that every injustice fees like a right and I don’t know how to save myself. I am troubled. I am not sure the world has room for people like me, rebels,we who refuse to do things simply because ‘they are being done’.

Jounalism student at one of the highly rated journalism schools in Kenya. The excitement I feel in class matches not the reality awaiting me at home. The pain that is vernacular stations; both radio and Tv. Why do I even try? What am I in school for? Where will my diploma take me if my eyes alone are dissatisfied?

I am not always an early riser but when I don’t stay up writing, I wake up in time for the 9:00 pm bulletin at my favorite radio station. “Uuma, uigiririku na ucamba”(truth, reliability and boldness)is what prepares my ears for what I hope will meet my expectations and feed my trust. I am still listening so I can say I am well fed. What bothers me is comments that come after certain stories. The outright utterance of words that show bias at a time like this when Kenyans are about to make a very big decision are a turn off for me. Campaigners should do their work, I think, and journalists should just pass information without giving opinions. And the strategic Sunday morning prayers for ‘Munene wa bururi’, laughter of sadness.

The other day a lady was interviewing Boniface Mwangi and she had the confidence to say, “I don’t know what you think, but he sure has my vote”. On air? Who are you to tell people who to vote for? Well, in their defense, nobody heard that, probably because the station’s fan base is wanting. I mean, it is in the same station that Diamond Platinumz was ‘killed’ on a certain Saturday morning and no repercussions followed the show’s host. Why do I still watch the station, you ask? The deejays. Sawa?

I don’t want to start on the translated Hindu soap opera. I don’t have the strength. The number of local movies soaking dust on people’s shelves while we import movies with repeated mediocre storylines that we can’t relate with, I can’t. I just can’t. Oh, I’m an actor as well. Same Tv station where the professionalism is key, but the morning show’s host has to slide in a “Ndirakwira uria uguikiria kura no yanagiria kayo” (I am not telling you who to vote for but ‘a cow celebrates it’s own calf’. Get the drift? Yeah. That is where we are loved ones, or as they would say, ‘hau niho turi’.

I am surprised at how calm I sound considering how strongly these things make me feel. The negligence. The unprofessional-ism. And I understand no career is a bed of roses, but the difference between journalists and other people is the influence they have on people’s lives. I keep repeating this and I will say it till it sticks. Think of an old person somewhere in Nyeri, who cannot afford a Tv and is too illiterate to read the paper. The only thing they can afford on a sunny day when they have placed the batteries on the roof to charge is a radio. It is their only source of information. Imagine what one wrong thing said on air could mean to that person. Imagine what you could do to them with just one misplaced word.

I feel my sleep peeping. Let’s pick from here next time………………………

Love MY Way

Now, we’ve read a million and one love stories and watched thousands of romantic movies. Each of these come with different angles and they give us different perspectives of what love should be like and rules on how relationships should be governed.

From Soap Operas to movies like ‘Think like a man’ to books like ‘Power of the pussy’, relationships are a ‘woman’s job’. Girls dream about their wedding day and grow up wanting to find the best man to spend their lives with. Men just know they want to achieve their goals and eventually marry. That’s it!! It is in the nature of humans to want the best. We are competitive beings. We strive to get the best jobs, look the best and eventually have the best spouses. It is okay to want good things. It is wrong though, to expect perfection.

This is not relationship advice, no. Trust me, I know nothing about love. Nothing at all. Wooooi, heh! Don’t even make me start pity partying. This is just out of observation. One thing I have learnt from hanging around older people is, love is complicated, relationships can be a mess and marriage can be damaging.

I’ve become really interested in these things lately, mostly because 70% of my friends are married and 20% are in serious relationships doing all sorts of serious relationship thingies like moving in together and visiting parents and I’m just here with the 10% asking to be served by Mohammed at Kilimanjaro, Kimathi Street IMG_20170610_173834

I am happy for my happily married friends though. This lovely couple for example,15622145_10207781303521949_3327903506461280168_n there’s nothing not to love about them. Theirs is a love so rare in our era and it moves my heart to tears. I celebrate you guys, really! I hear you with your ‘oh, being all over each other’s timelines is not proof of love’ I hear you boo, I do, but don’t be a critic for things that don’t need criticizing. Let people love the best way they know how. Tattoo your bae’s name on your forehead if you have to, just be sure you are not lying to yourself.

‘So many people are married but not in love, yet so many people are in love but not married’, I can’t remember where I read this but it is true. Again it comes down to ‘wanting to please everyone else’. If you are with a person for the wrong reasons, just leave man!! If it doesn’t feel right, just go. There’s no law that states that the two of you should be together. And no, I am not saying this because I need company on ‘team single’, I am okay, my needs are well taken care of. I am all about protecting the heart.

Our bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit. God is love. God does not dwell in your broad hips or my big boobs, no. He dwells in our hearts. But we have filled our hearts with so much trash that there’s no space for God. We want God to squeeze up in a room filled with anger for your cheating ex boyfriend, insults from the wife of that married man you slept with, tears from your current relationship, self pity, hatred for that light skin who stole your boo….. you know.. all that. No space for God. In fact, no space for love.

My friends are reading this like, ‘huh, did you type the previous paragraph?’ Oh yes I did, I talked about God. I am working on my spiritual self (story for another day).

All I am saying is, we give people control over our lives. We give people so much power to control how we feel about ourselves and at the end of the day it shapes who we become. How many people have you dated so far? How many different people, each coming to you with demands and commands on how things should be, and what they like and what they don’t and what you should change, how many? How many more will you meet before meeting prince charming or the woman of your dreams? How many more to make you feel like you need to be different to fit into their world? Remember 12be25853c7a646fa3e04a4ebd798c66--extra-virgin-coconut-oil-organic-coconut-oil

Love is a NEED and sometimes it feels like a punishment. We all are born with the need to feel important. But you CANNOT be important to someone until you are important to yourself. How, you ask?images Work on yourself and let love find you. I know this sounds so cliché but it is true. When you know yourself, you know your value. When you know your value, you know what you need and what you don’t. When you know that, you know who to keep and who to let go of.

‘People pretend. You only get to know them when you’ve already fallen too deep.’ Yeah, this is why you need strong instinct. That gut feeling. I am an Christian but I am working on being a believer so I might not know so much about these things but I know that when God the son left, he left us with God the Holy Spirit. And if God is alive in your heart, you do not need laws to know right from wrong. You need instinct. It is never wrong. But do we listen?

Nobody will ever love you enough. Nobody will give you everything and if you don’t work on yourself, you will keep looking for approval from people. A lover can give you love and affection and not be able to take care of you financially so you get another one. You will find someone who gives you everything but doesn’t fulfill your soul. How many people will you need to date at once to be content? I know, NONE! You do not need people to be happy. You only need yourself. Work on you. Love your own company. Get so lost in your world that when someone comes to love you, they will meet the person you are. You will have been yourself for too long you will not know what pretense means. You will be so in love with yourself that if the love they give doesn’t feel right by you, they will not convince you to stay. f951ed8aea8d4be9ef975780a69b2c16--self-happy-quotes-value-quotes-self

I know it is easier said than done. Believe me, I have had my moments but let me tell you something. When you are deeply rooted in who you are and your purpose in life, no amount of color, money or biceps can distract you. Nothing will divert you from your path. Ladies, you don’t need a man to take you out, that’s what your girlfriends are for. You don’t need the money he gives, work your butt off. You don’t need the flowers he sends, you don’t know where the ones they’ll place on your grave will come from. And I know a girl’s got needs (hides from the spirit a little) you do not need to be dating someone to have sex (not all of us can be celibate). I love you. May God’s love sustain you.

Gathoni Waweru