2017 is knocking, almost ripping off the hinges and bringing the door down. We’re looking forward to the change of guard with bated breath—most of us praying that 2017 will be kinder than its tyrant cousin 2016. The tyrant that took away Papa Wemba and gave us Donald Trump. 2016 has hammered us, driven us through the sword and bathed us with fire but we somehow survived because we’re warriors. Warriors forged out of sweat, tears and blood.
This year has thrown a lot of curve-balls, most of which hit me straight on the nuts and left me sprawled on the floor writhing in pain. Sometimes it felt futile to get up and keep fighting, but I made a choice to stand. Because you only remain on the floor if you like the floor. This year has had a lot of ups, downs and learning moments. Here are some of mine.
Resigning my 8 to 5
No, don’t feel sorry for me. I was an awful employee and my boss was always tearing me a fresh one about something. If it was not coming in late, it was about a report I did not do or that he did not like my face or how I breathed (OK I might have added salt on the last part). After resigning I should have told him, “It’s not you it’s me”. Except he was a douchebag and you know someone is a douchebag when they have the name director at the end of their title and an office the size of a tennis court, yet they buy three packets of fries and two sausages for a department that has seven grown adults in the name of celebrating good performance.
I can almost taste the day I resigned on my tongue. He was yammering about Mozambique (yes it was a big company) with branches all over Africa and listed on the Nairobi bourse. I had a health insurance package and the entire nine yards but I couldn’t stomach the job. It wasn’t a challenge for me. It felt like parking a Ferrari in the basement. You don’t chain a Ferrari Enzo turbo charger in some dingy basement, you unleash it—VROOM!—let it kiss, grab and annihilate the asphalt.
He was working his tongue overtime and I stood there looking at him, unblinking and he made for the phone mumbling something about HR and a warning letter and I told him he didn’t need to go through the trouble because I was resigning. He thought I was bluffing, except I don’t bluff. I’m not the type of folk who sings about their resignation from January to December but somehow ends up working for the company for a lifetime. I say things once and I mean them. I remember his face was impassive when I brought him the letter but I knew it got to him, not the resignation but the way I had taken the power from him. Ambushed him and overturned the tables on his douchebaggery (I either made that word up or heard it on the Daily Show). He signed the papers, the crow’s feet on the edge of his eyes getting more pronounced with every breath he took. I revere that moment because it set a precedent. That moment said: we don’t stay in a bad situation just because it’s paying the bills.
8,000 bob water bill
I remember I was flat broke when this happened. This actually goes back to the first month I moved out. Water is available intermittently where I stay. I left the taps open one morning only to come back to a flooded house. That’s the first day I realized that I was no longer a baby living under the wing of my parents. I went on paying my monthly five hundred bob water bill without knowing I was being slapped with a one thousand bob fine every month I failed to clear the bill. The next thing I knew, the landlord was knocking on my door and I had just resigned my job and money was like coming across a pink unicorn on Moi Avenue. I dig into this on the love of a mother post.
Starting this blog
I started this blog as a way of being grounded in my craft. A channel to force me to pick up the pen and force the words out of my fingers even when I didn’t feel like it. This was supposed to be an avenue to keep me at arm’s length and the readers here have been fantastic. So thank you for coming here every Wednesday to read this blog. Thank you for the positivity and compliments you bring to the comment section. Thank you for every time you shared us and made noise about us on your WhatsApp groups or when sipping something cold on a sunny Sunday on an outing with your friends. You are the pillars of this blog. Also guys, while sitting with your friends in clubs or eateries you should ask them what blogs they read and if they don’t mention us, you should immediately fold your face and start questioning your friendships. I mean you should get offended and start saying things like, “You’ve changed Henry!” (Only guys named Henry pull such shady stunts). “I mean, I thought I knew you but clearly you’re not the person I thought you were.” Make them feel some type of way for not being a part of what we have going on here.
Getting a new gig
I got a new gig in media and this will come into play in the larger scheme of things. Especially in regard to the direction the blog will take. This blog is a passion project not a money making ATM but all the same, it needs to make a few milestones. We need to get a sultry logo, something you undress with your eyes. Something you can put on a T-shirt or on your favourite coffee mug. We also need to get a new design, I mean this one is okay, but it can be better. We also need to put our editor Shiku Ngigi on a payroll. She’s a brilliant mind as she is an awesome person and she fights very hard for the women who read this blog. I have deleted and rewritten entire paragraphs in your favour because of her. All these things will cost money, so I’m planning to pitch to a few brands next year. I’m only going to pitch to brands I love. And get behind campaigns I believe in, campaigns that can benefit all of us. So if you see something here, know that it has been approved by me. And if you see or read anything that you feel does not measure up to the standards of this community, feel free to drop me an email on firstname.lastname@example.org or engage me on my social platforms.
Guys, here we accept each other for who we are because we know everybody is different in their own special way and we cannot all be the same because we grew up and were exposed to different conditions and circumstances. We have to appreciate and permit different groups of people because the world does not start and end at our doorsteps. I will try as much as possible to get out of my way in 2017 and interview minority groups like the LGBT, abused and handicapable people. People whose voices need to be heard but are stifled in the noise of ignorance and intolerance.
I will be taking a one month break but I will try to take photos and do brief stories on my social sites so make sure to catch me on Facebook, instagram and also follow me on Twitter. See you back here on 4th January 2017. It’s been really fun coming here every Wednesday and finding readers holding buckets of popcorn, eyes wide as saucers aching to read and read, you already feel like family. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, Tribe!
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