Lessons for a Re - Launch

I’m back on the wagon and to my first love. Blogspot. It has been a while since I did any blogging as i have been wallowing in my pity party. (And yes, I was the sole celebrant and attendee) All that’s in the past now though and I’m proud to say that I’m re-launching this blog. I’ll be posting observations, opinion pieces and short stories here.

For a long time, I struggled with my writing. It certainly didn’t help that I was versed in the fine art of prcastination. Yes, that very indulgent granny that tells you to relax. It can be done later. To be honest, procrastination was only half the problem. Being dishonest with myself and what I was feeling at the time helped to stop my flow. Either way, after all this time being out, I learnt several things which I will proceed to share.

·         Fear is the enemy of progress:

Wether it was fear of the unknown, of failure, or just plain intimidation. It only served to waste my time and make me unproductive

·         Honesty:

Until recently, I thought that writing was about imagining a situation and describing it in words. But that’s only half the work. The real work is to put it in such a way that people can read and relate to it and to do so I had to write about what I had experienced or, at the very least, understood. Writing exposes the personality of the writer and there’s very little that can be done but it is left to me to embrace that exposure and not run away from it.

·         I’m never going to be as good as I want to be:

No, this is not a defeatist statement. Just fact. There’ll always be something I think I can do better. A better word I can employ. But now, I can embrace all that with the knowledge that it is my path to improvement. I mean, who wants to peak in their twenties?

·         The ten thousand hour theory.

I first read about it in Malcolm Gladwell’s book Outliers. I was recently reminded about it by a friend during an IM chat. It states basically that, to achieve proficiency in any field, you need to spend at least ten thousand hours practicing. I can only hope my blog helps me there.

Of course, we learn many lessons along the way but it’s up to me to see that I apply them. Let’s just see how that goes.

Please comment and let me know if you have tried for something and learned something that deeply impressed you. 

Have a great day. 

the Day I saw the World

On the day that I saw the world.

For the first time, frightening, I so feeble,

So wide and big and filled with people.

I, weeping for the loss of the cocoon that shielded,

They, rejoicing for the gain of a one so awaited.

The questions in mind as they hoisted me high,

A doctor, lawyer, writer or why!

Even a president, their dreams did fly.

                                                  

In the twenty odd years that have come and gone,

And the sorrows and joys I have seen and borne,

In this, I remain thankful, most of all to You,

Lord most high, without you I’d be in a stew.

Even when I am in the wrong,

Your grace is there to keep me strong.

And my family, support of my existence.

Thank you so much for your love and persistence.

I frustrate you a lot. Yes I do.

But you’re all my favourite boos.

To my friends both near and far,

Know that you are always dear to my heart.

And though I may not call and text adlib,

I should hope we will meet in a better place anon.

With this I say happy birthday to me.

With hopes and prayers many more to see.

The Watcher

The Watcher

The blazing mid-day sun had morphed into the orange orb that heralded the evening and still the figure under the dwarf palm tree sat. Neither the billows of dust that swirled in the air, tossed up by the strong breeze that usually blew as evening wore on nor the lizards and other small critters chasing each other on the ground nearby caused the figure to adjust its position. The silence maintained was like that of a trance meditation.  Every once in a while, someone would pass by and the customary greetings would be returned with an absentmindedness that did not encourage further discussions.

Noko had seen the wraith in her dreams three times now. It sometimes came like a masquerade that she could almost touch. Sometimes it came like a spirit that she could barely see and threatened to possess her. She had seen it once before her father hurt his back at the factory where he worked and when her younger brother fell from the tree and broke his neck. As she sat and contemplated, knowing that it never boded well whenever she dreamt of it, her thoughts began to drift to Mesan. He had been gone for much longer than he said. The weeks had become months and he was giving no thought as to his return. The frequency of his messages to her had dropped off as sharply as the rains at the onset of the dry season. This fact was well known to even the most taciturn old man in the community and sometimes on her days out in town, she could catch the glances of pity, concern and, on the faces of a few younger girls, thankfulness to the almighty for sparing them such an experience. On one occasion, the elderly women were not careful enough to make sure she was out of earshot.

‘Imagine her wasting all her time on that ungrateful boy...’, the first intoned while curving her lips downward with disgust at the absent young man.

‘If it were my daughter, I would ask her to forget him. After all, Obum is always coming around to see her. He’s as good a man as any.’, The second added her own two cents as she inspected the bolts of material to make her choice.

‘The folly of the young. They just believe that everything is love, love love...’

As she sat and pondered over what to do, the questions started to beat against the locked door. Am I being silly? Maybe I should give Obum a chance. Afterall, he has been my friend for such a long time and he understands me. Presently, the said young man came into view as he walked slowly into the compound. He was noticeably taller than most of the youths in the community. He had a smooth complexion the colour of baked clay that could make many a local belle green with envy. He walked with a slight limp as a result of a childhood injury but all that didn’t detract from the attraction he evoked. He walked up to her and sat beside her causing hardly a rustle as was his usual manner. So unobstrusive he was. It sometimes amazed her how he could manage to move so effortlessly and silently despite his huge frame. The combination of his movement and her absorption did not serve to make her aware of his presence. She only became aware of him when he placed his hand on her shoulder calling out her name. She came out of her reverie to see him looking at her with that strange mixture of pity and possibly love that she had lately come to notice.

‘What are you thinking so hard about? Hmm? That you didn’t notice me coming?’, he asked with a slight smile that betrayed the fact that he knew just what the subject of her thoughts was.

‘Good evening. How was your day?’, She said hurriedly.

‘Fine. Could have been better though.’,he responded meaningfully.

‘I’m glad yours was better.’, She said with a wry smile. One of the few she had cracked that day. Though plain, when she smiled, the crinkling of her eyes made you want to smile with her.

‘Have you heard from....’, he asked quietly. She shook her head briefly. The silence fell. They sat in companionable silence for over an hour broken occasionally by observations made by either one of them about the weather or recent occurrences in the community.

*       *       *

The young man made his way slowly towards the compound that seemed vaguely familiar now as if seen in a dream. The trees and bushes rustled in the stiff breeze that blew. His walk down the path was slow and wearied as if he were Atlas carrying the world upon his shoulders. He trudged forward unfeeling, unaware of or perhaps ignoring the stares of the few people along the road at that time. No one stopped to speak to him or ask him anything. It would seem that he had become a pariah of sorts. His breath caught as he rounded the bend and his heart beat took on the tempo of a bata drum being beaten with gusto.

*       *       *

The silence had been hanging – long and heavy – and Noko had just stood up to wish her friend a good night. She only caught sight of him as she turned towards the ‘gate’ which was really just a space between the hedge that surrounded the small compound. As he came closer and she saw his face clearly, her eyes watered and for a moment she was speechless. As if of their own accord, she moved towards him and threw her arms around him burying her face in his shoulder and liberating the tears. He held on to her as she muttered over and over, ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I suffered. I suffered...’ They didn’t even notice when Obum took his leave. His heart heavy within his chest.