LIFE GIVING SPIRIT

     I have never understood this statement with more fervor than i have this week. I have drunk of the world and yet still feel drier than ever. It is as though i was drinking drought with taste buds craving rain, taste buds that know the difference for they have tasted the taste of rain. Any moment outside the presence of God, even a slight moment, feels like death. Have you ever felt that way? As though you're being suffocated even though you're surrounded by what looks like brilliance and celebration? Well, if there is something that has helped me put these feelings into perspective it is 1st Corinthians 15:45 which says 'The first man Adam became a living being (an individual personality); the last Adam (Christ) became a life-giving spirit (restoring the dead to life)

     What does it mean life giving spirit? Does it mean that without Him we have no life? Does He have to give us life for us to have life? Are all things dead without Him thus restoring the dead to life? The answers to these questions are yes and unashamedly so. Even the biggest successes we can ever have in life are dead without Jesus. 

     This week i finally got my certificate in Inclusive Leadership; a course i had taken to equip me on what is to be a long, tiring but fulfilling journey on the path to being fully ingrained in leadership. I was happy, but i did not celebrate. I wondered why. In the very same week, at my work place, i managed to have the breakfast show i host as a top trend for 3 consecutive days. I was glad seeing as i had been quite low in the days leading up to that. I was glad, yes, but i did not have joy as a result of it. 

     On Thursday, during my spontaneous conversations with God, i heard these words in my spirit, 'you will not trend tomorrow.' I thought i had heard my own things and i even tried to rebuke that voice but somehow i had peace about it because it sounded like the tone a father would speak with to a son He loves and wants to give a heads up to. Come Friday, i put in the same amount of work as i did during the week and to some extent even more but i never saw what my eyes were eager to see. 1 hour down, 2 hours, 3 hours, 4. The show was over, What i had heard came true. It actually felt as though there was a hand putting a ceiling on all my efforts. It felt so tangible. My heart dipped but i remembered a conversation with my boss the day before and how i told Him God will at some point ensure that we do not trend so as to test our hearts. Who knew it would be this soon? Don't get me wrong, it may sound like i am making a big deal out of something 'worldly' but in my field, this is gold. I even had my overall boss summon me the day before and tell me good job, something many, including myself, were surprised by and yes it felt good but i still had no joy. There was something mussing and in this one day God did test my heart and i found out something that the Lord wanted me to learn again practically and not just theoretically: He is the only source of my joy. affirmation, and the only source of that which gives me life. I feel dead without Him and as a matter of fact i am. 

     In this one week of many highs, i have still felt dry. Some would wonder why or how but i know it is because i miss my moments with God in my very own 'cool of the day' and at times i feel there are places and situations when i am separate from Him yet He does not go away. He is there but not there and this is not done in abandonment but to show me His standard of Holiness and for me to seek Him even more.

     As i write this, i look at almost every aspect of my life and the trend (no pun intended) is the same. I feel dead in every area when i am not in constant fellowship with God. The times i fellowship with my own worries, i partake from the death giving spirit. I surrender my life and receive death in return. I worry about whether i will amount to anything career wise and as a man, whether i will be a good husband, whether i am going to have enough money to soon provide for my wife and i or even pay for the wedding with no hassles and so many other thoughts. Most of my days are spent wishing i could just lay flat in the tangible presence of God forever and do nothing but drink of Him but that is not ordained for a life on earth but one in eternity. Here, we must work to bring the kingdom to the earth, we must be sanctified, we must be consecrated, we must endure for His sake in the same way we crave to glory for His sake and in a world where we have been called to be salt, things can end up being so overwhelming that we crave to remain in that salt shaker. I need the life that only Jesus has. This life calms me, it steadies my heart, it is my only source of sanity, it keeps me Holy and helps me overcome. It gives me joy.    

     I have never had a desire to be famous and i still don't. My desire is to live for the Lord and to love Him ever so deeply as my years go by. However, as reminded by my friend and colleague Jessy, God does say He will make our name great. I am all for that but the problem is that most times we substitute God for us and instead live life with the mantra 'I will make my name great.' There is one that makes names great because His is the name above EVERY other name. If i had a choice, i would want to spend eternity with God now so that i never have to feel dead again even when success or its doppelgangers surround me but i have been put on earth for a reason, tough days and less tough days and the only thing that will give me joy is to have the life of Jesus living in me. I am unashamed of the gospel for in it is not only power but to me, in it is life evermore and where there is life there is joy. I am a simple man, i ask for nothing else but to have life and life more abundantly. 

     I write this not as a poet, a leader, a radio personality working to make a name or as any man of any standard, i lay these all aside to show my true disposition as a broken man desperate for the breath of Jesus, the Life giving Spirit to fully dwell in me until it overflows. To breathe life into me, accolades or none, recognition or none, to be forever in the presence of my King, the one i chose because i was chosen when deep in my dead state. I want Him and if all other things pertaining to life are indeed added, they shall be a bonus unto the everything i would have ever wanted, needed, craved and desired, and i will lay them down at His feet, always. What more do you need when you have the source and sustainer of all life living in you? All other ground truly is sinking sand, even those that have lifeless castles built upon them and this hollowness has reminded me of the deepest cry of my heart: that i would rather be a temple hidden away in a desert but full of the life of God than a castle built with the most precious of jewels and visited by all the worlds kings yet have not the life of God in me.

     So come Holy Spirit, dwell in me. Take me deeper into the heart of the Father, into the life giving spirit, into the place of my joy and desire, into my utmost prize. You say if i shall seek you with all of my heart you shall be found. Today, i seek you again and i crave to find you. You have laid before me the path to life and death and you have asked me to choose life, to choose you. I do. It truly does start with me. 

Roles are dung without love

To ask one to love is to ask them to sacrifice and to sacrifice is not a task given to shame or belittle someone but it is a roaring call to nobility where the ultimate prize is Jesus himself in all His glory and splendor.

Many times we see ourselves as men on a task oriented basis. Provider, Protector, Priest, Prophet, Intercessor and many more titles that come attached to Christian men like price tags on supermarket items. These roles and responsibilities are not wrong really but most times they are seen as obligations other than beautifully knit pieces of who God made man to be. Ultimately we were all created for worship and these things are part and parcel of what it means to worship God even as we relate with each other.

Love is one of the most, if not the most interesting phenomenon that has ever existed. This is the core of the Christian faith: how an infallible all powerful God would come down and dwell among men in the form of His son so as to deliberately die for them (DIE) so that they may not be eternally separated from Him. Christianity made us wannabe lovers of old just call it quits. How do you top that? You don’t! Well Jesus never died for us to create competition for who can do the most loving thing and have guys try to knock Him off the perch. He did so to show us a divine example, the heart of the Father, to introduce us to the everlasting principle of love.

Now, husbands love your wives as Christ loves the Church. Hmm, we quote this endlessly, don’t we? There are so many layers to this statement; all Holy, all fulfilling, all divine, yet rarely seen for what it really is, on some days even by me.

What does it mean to love your wife as a husband? Well, I’m not yet there but in a few months we can have this discussion, haha. Sincerely though, this is not a plastic sense of love that is put in place when you are finally pronounced husband and wife. It is a cultured and nurtured process that grows during dating and courtship so as to function in consecration when in marriage.

The Bible has numerous mirrors for us who are not yet married so as to prepare us on that divinely set aside part of life. It shows us how the love of God looks like and even feels like not just as couples but as people who were created in His image and after His likeness. Verses such as Ephesians 3:17-19 paint a brilliant picture of this and we should use it as a template of how to practice the gift of love.

Over time I have learned that love finds expression in God and not outside of it and its beauty should not be used for idolatry. The first instance of the term love is a strange one. God tells Abraham in Genesis 22:2 to sacrifice his son, the son that Abraham loves. Well, people would argue that if you love, you protect from harm but there is such a deep revelation here that shows us the nature of God as love, a love that does not harm. It is said that Abraham knew that God would have the ability to bring Isaac back (Hebrews 11:17-19) and really, Abraham believed in God so deeply. Sometimes as men we want to be seen as goody two shoes even in the presence of God. Having love express itself in idolatry beats the whole purpose of love. This is not to say do not protect the person you love, that in itself is not Christ like but to lay our love at the feet of God is to trust that His heart will judge what is best for ours. He matters most and He loves your Isaac more than you do. After all, our hearts are such that God has to always stop the knife from entering our Isaac’s almost every day albeit in different circumstances.

Also, love covers a multitude of sins. Forgiveness is a huge part of manhood not just in marriage but even in relating to ladies as sisters, girlfriends or as a fiancée. Men think and express themselves differently from women. I’ve noticed that as men we can be so hard faced even when a lady tries to help us loosen up. We like to have things go our way, and don’t want to feel intimidated by their proposals of change because that may make it feel like we don’t have things under control. If you’re not like this and I’m just describing myself that is also fine.  It is imperative that we don’t try to make our ladies men. They were made as they are for a purpose and to show a unique revelation about God that as men we can never portray. In times of arguments, let’s not rub our masculinity in their faces and say primitive statements like ‘I’m the man. Submit to me if you know what’s good for you!’ She knows you’re the man, but you may disprove that if you show her all you are is a male. There is a reason why love is said to cover. It does not highlight or put it in the public gallery the sins of others for personal gain. Even if the gallery is just two hearts, never show your lady that you will be quick to expose her flaws. Christ covers the church. Funny enough I have never seen a scripture in the Bible where Christ is barraging the church and calling it names and saying He is done with it. Interesting huh?

Last but definitely not least; all the titles I had mentioned above are useless without a heart of love. To be a provider, protector, priest, prophet, all the other P’s that are mentioned etc but not have a heart of love is worth nothing. That will just relinquish us to be bodyguards who protect, ATM’s that pour money or jackets that provide warmth, even over protective stalkers who ‘just want their best interests’. To love is to be invested, deeply, truthfully, and with God sight. If the Bible can say that even if you can tell mountains to jump into the sea and they do it but you have not love you have nothing, then that is such a big statement. If that didn’t strike a nerve, then how about this: even if I give my body to be burnt and have not love, I have nothing. Roles and titles are but a structured expression of love, they were not meant to avoid love. It is not enough to do all these things yet you know you have not genuine love. It was not a coincidence that in John 3:16 it starts with for God so loved the world….. It does not start with ‘God gave His son that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life’ Christ is able to play His beautiful role in the life of the Church not because that is His job description but because He loves. I would that before trying to pick up roles and responsibilities, we pick up genuine love and if we don’t know how, we have the perfect example in Jesus, the man that no other man can compete with in the area of love.

Remember, to love is to sacrifice and to sacrifice is not a task given to shame or belittle someone but it is a roaring call to nobility and divinity where the ultimate prize is having Jesus himself in all His glory and splendor as the eternal lover of our souls.

So my fellow men, you know the drill, it starts with us.

EMANCIPATION

     Recently I was re-reading the letters of Willie Lynch as well as the thoughts by Frederick Douglass on how to make a slave. It has been sort of a binge week for me; writing my book, reading poems from authors I love and learning about influential people that I had never heard of such as John Bowley, a slave that was granted his freedom but in secret, bought his wife at an auction and as a result, set her free. My mind has been tinkering of late especially in the area of the word emancipation and what it looks like in the world today. In the most basic explanation, emancipation is to free one from slavery. To be emancipated, one must have been enslaved to something or someone. 

     Bob Marley sung; 'Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds.' Lyrics drenched in depth indeed. This has been my state of mind for a couple of years but has been even more accentuated this week, especially where he says 'Emancipate yourself.' This may sound ironic when we revisit the fact that emancipation is the state of someone being set free from enslavement and most times, the person doing the enslavement is not the slave.

     So does this statement make sense? It absolutely does.

     When reading an excerpt from Frederick Douglass, i saw the state in which the concept of family was thoroughly broken during the times of slavery. The men would be beaten in front of their wives and in some cases, their children as well. This was to show the woman that her source of protection is helpless and cannot protect either her or their children and the only thing to do was to submit to enslavement. This method of torture was psychological more than it was physical. In the instinctive pattern of the woman to nurture and protect her own, she would teach her daughters to be independent and not depend on a man who may one day be taken away from her but to instead grow in independence and the boys would be taught not to question or think outside the box because if they did, they may risk death. So they were encouraged to be physically strong but mentally caged. Remember, the woman was not being malicious but was trying to protect her own in the best way that she could at the time.

     Over time, the sediments of slavery have been less visible but still catastrophic.

     Let's take the genre of Hip Hop. For so many years, there was a sense of emancipation that resonated in this genre with groups such as NWA, artists such as Common, Talib Kweli, and Lauryn Hill. Their music burst forth what it felt like to be free or to desire a sense of freedom. If you look at the very same scene, things are very different today. I can't help but notice some similarities today with what Frederick Douglass highlighted on such as Men who flaunt their physiques in videos as opposed to speaking out content that is edifying and even Women speaking of how they do not need men. Today independence is one of the most consistent talks in ladies' circles. I doubt many men and women actually know the root of what has brought us to where we are now.

     Away from the media, let's look at Kenya. Tribalism has been rampart in this country since we achieved independence, which many argue in light of today was not really achieved fully, but our masters just changed and look like us, talk like us then hide behind the guise of the words 'us'. Who knew the words of Willie Lynch would make sense in a country such as ours albeit in a slightly different dimension? We cannot run from the fact that we have an unfortunate culture of hating each other because of differences that should actually make us appreciate each other’s diversity. 

     The most important part of this for me is this: THIS IS NOT SOMETHING WE DON'T ALREADY KNOW.

So then, since we know this, why is it that nothing is ever being done? Our education systems are archaic and do not encourage creativity or thinking outside the box from a young age, our work places are more places to simply following instructions than an inclusive place to share strengths and proclivities in order to achieve set goals and almost every single institution in this country has either striking employees or unfulfilled ones that would never strike but just work to get money and bury their hopes, dreams or desires? John 10:10 (MSG) says A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and a better life than they have ever dreamed of. Other versions say that I came that they may have life and have it more abundantly, while others even say life until it overflows. If you look around, few look to be living these lives. 

     I believe, just like Willie Lynch had orchestrated, we were thrown in a ring where we each saw the other as a lion and the tunes of kill or be killed have been playing in our ears for generations. I hope that one day, we can be able to agree to halt the charge, boycott the tune and ask each other why we do this to each other. Why we do this to ourselves. There is a type of freedom that will never be achieved unless we emancipate ourselves with the key of love, a love that governs how we relate, how we treat our employees, how we treat those below us and this in itself will trickle down to how they treat themselves. It's about time we stop looking at matters from the lens of who is right and who is wrong and decide to acknowledge that we are enslaving ourselves by how we treat and perceive each other. 

     Men, we need to stand up and show leadership and love to each other and to our women. It is not and will never be easy but true emancipation starts when we choose today to take responsibility and where we can, apologize for our mistakes., It does not make us less of a man to walk up to a brother, colleague, employee and say that you are sorry for seeing them in a certain way. We will never lose anything by making another person feel like they are human by allowing their voice to be heard. Many in this country feel oppressed in one way or the other and the truth is most oppressors know it is their fault. How I pray for a day when those in leadership will sincerely work towards genuine reconciliation with those that they lead and work to have their voices heard and to heal wounds that are very well hidden but still very much bleeding.

     How I pray for a day that we choose to be the bigger person, to take the low route because we know it will never harm us to show a sense of freedom to another. John 8:36 says: So if the Son has liberated you [makes you free men], then you are really and unquestionably free. This freedom does not begin when we die but here on earth, to be shared with each other.

     Emancipation is for the humble and for the brave when you realize that it is you, all along, that have enslaved yourself and as a result, your most automatic and natural pattern is to enslave others whether you know it or not. One thing is certain though, it is for freedoms sake that we were ALL made free (Galatians 5:1) To deny that we are/were enslaved is to deny the need for freedom and emancipation. 

     The love of God that goes to a thousand generations should be seen to be more powerful than the makings of a slave that were planned to continue for 300 years. Choose to receive freedom from whatever has enslaved you, choose to show freedom to whomever has felt enslaved by you and let this freedom govern our lives because it starts with us.

A poem to the true woman

     If someone would have told me that there was no beauty on this earth i would believe them. My old mind would struggle to see through the dusty pictures in my head called memories where heartache not only made a home but became the landlord itself.

      If someone would have looked me in the eye and told me love was dead, my old mind would have believed them. Reminiscing on days where my heart would tiptoe in the chambers of love so as not to awake it before its time and when i eventually woke it i would blame it for waking up and toss it away to share a trash can right where my dreams of love lay. Fast forward several years of being introduced to tears that only men know, those that trickle down a centimeter per hour slowly mourning the death of my old mind, rest in pieces. I begun to rethink my stance and rework my dance in preparation for the day one would tell me that love is dead and i would jump at the chance to defend and make amends for the time my perceptions would twist and bend because of a healing i craved to run to while facing a dead end until one day, somebody told me David, love does not exist. 

     They told me real women were a thing of the past, a myth only reserved for books like Ruth and Esther and how all they do these days is pester. In that one moment, i could feel my flesh, the same flesh i thought was dead and gone trying to rise and sound a horn and burst in affirmative but i felt held back. My spirit couldn't let me as i envisioned sistas in my church toil and pray, bruise their knees each day, grow their spirits, face process in the ovens to get their daily bread and instead of moving their bodies form a body submitted to the head. I could picture my mother teach me to be a good man to prepare for a great lady, to be a man not just of my word but his word. Right then my spirit burst forth and begun to proclaim, sista, you who are smoother than the sounds of jazz and blues, yes you sista who when they try to chain your womanhood i watch your spirit refuse. I see your eyes that have stared down tornado's yet your gaze quells the most tempest of seas in the hearts of men. 

     Who else is known to have the grace to walk slow and think fast, love strong and outlast they may call you an out cast because the man came out first but Adam is the only man to have come out without your birth and all other men including your haters all came from you and without you would have no worth. They may tease your emotions but only when a man wins them over will he say he is qualified for unrivaled promotion.  

Obscure men define you as socialites and video vixen but you are the social light pointing to the one that is risen. Your groom, he who loves you so much he had to break from that tomb and as a result only you woman can raise life by hugging and enveloping purpose in your womb.

  

     Do not despise yourself oh mothers of the world, you who nurture nature never neglecting new life, light, love, loyalty all make up your DNA, they may say what they say about looks, shape, hair and worth but without you woman there is no unblemished church. You are the pillars of the house, 

You are a healer, pealing away shame from wounded and broken men after battle has strangled our hope, 

Beauty wrapped in the Holy Ghost, you are not lesser because you came from mans rib cause see man had to act fast because if he didn't all of nature would have called dibs.

So arise as the queens as you are, the best part of the story and with your pores flooding out eternal glory. No one messes the woman, fine and divine with a garment of righteousness as it's the trinity that dresses the woman.

     We the men who have been delivered are like quivers, arrows that shoot truth to the hearts of those who doubt you, you are worthy. No amount of Nicki Minaj or Rihanna flossing flesh can compare to the beauty you hide under a fully covering dress. See yes love was dead it bled went 40 days without being fed was tired and weak but still led then laid its life instead of screaming YOLO instead and in the very same fashion of action it resurrected to show love was more than an emotion but a person and from the bottom of our heart and the one rib remaining, we covenant to love you in a world where love is in training till the day we are glorified, from husband to wife, fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters in this life, till we both graduate to be one bride in Christ.

LOVE AND SURRENDER: THE SIGNATURE OF SERVICE

     For God so LOVED the world that He GAVE His ONLY begotten son that whosoever shall believe in Him shall not perish but shall HAVE eternal life.

     When someone has something they love and you are in desperate need of it, a situation so dire if you do not have this possession in their hand you will die, what do you think they would do? The answer is intricately knitted in the verse we all know, John 3:16. No one can love like God. God knew the power inherent in His son to bring deliverance, restoration, reconciliation, reconfiguration and eternal life and He did not hold Him to Himself but sent Him where He was needed, to a fallen, degenerate, separated, erroneous and dead people: you and I. Nobody can love like God. He not only loved, but He surrendered. 

     In my radio show yesterday I asked a question that I did not know would break my heart to the extent it did. I asked, if someone you know had a terrible past (but now lives a life that you bear witness God has changed and restored) wanted to spend the rest of their life with you, would you accept them as changed despite the stigma that may come with it? Majority said they would refuse to. To love, surrender and trust in the work of God through His love not only in us but in others is not only important but is compulsory as well. It is what won us over in the first place. Remember the allure of undeserved love and an eternity spent with one who saw past our deepest flaws and shortcomings, the moment we experienced the beauty of mercy?  Well, the very same power of love that was shown to us when we wallowed in the pit of sin is so hidden many never get to see it in us. 

     The toughest decisions in this world are those that need one to love and surrender.  Many times we are excited by the appeal of doing exploits but we forget that to know God, is to know Him intimately, to see and be immersed in His nature, to be saturated until we naturally and automatically leak it forth. Once we are, the biggest exploit we can do with the help of the Holy Spirit is to daily subdue our flesh with all its pattern, opinion, desires, rights, ‘validities’, intents, configurations and expressions to the autocratic slaying power of the cross to deconstruct every morsel of who we are so as to be who we were created to be. The biggest exploit we can do involves the biggest surrender we can make: to fully give and be given to God in utter sincere relationship, to be fully His to use for His purpose in unraveling His love, His way.

REFERENCES

Daniel 11:32b but the people who KNOW their God shall prove themselves strong and shall stand firm and do exploits [for God]. 1st John 4:8 He who does not love has not become acquainted with God [does not and never did KNOW Him], for God is love.

1ST CORINTHIANS 13:1-2 AMP

1ST JOHN 4:7-12 AMP

ALL IN THE HANDS OF GOD

     Psalms 95:1-7- Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. 2 Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol Him with music and song. 3 For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods. 4 In His hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to Him. 5 The sea is His, for He made it, and His hands formed the dry land. 6 Come, let us bow down in worship,  let us kneel before the Lord our Maker; 7 for He is our God and we are the people of His pasture, the flock under His care.

     Yesterday was quite a tough day for me. My mind had become a battle field again and i was left alone with the enemy within but i am glad that i had the strongest of weapons with me: the word of God. I locked myself in the Studio and begun to pray and read the word of God, the same word i once received in utmost joy knowing the redemption i had found. I went back to the very same word that i knew carried life and indeed, in the darkest moment of the day, the light shone forth. The words of Psalms 95:1-7 soothed me. It started with a reminder that we are united, and we will never be alone: Come, LET US sing for joy.... Many times it seems as though it is 'You there, come and sing for joy' but the beauty of this is that as much as salvation is a singular affair between man and God, relationship, fellowship and communion are best expressed with another.

     My mind went on to to be further engulfed by the beauty of God's word in verse three that He is the great King above all other gods, including the thoughts that wanted to find root in my mind but what was the most astounding thing to me was the arena in which all these things happen: in the hand of God. The sea is His, for He made it, and His hands formed the dry land. This here addressed where i felt i was drowning in the sea of despair, screaming and nobody could hear me, trapped not only at sea but in the proverbial 'wilderness' but truly if the sea and the dry land are in His hand, then doesn't that mean that regardless of my circumstance, i am still in Gods hands? It had failed to fully register in my mind and heart that even the worst moments we go through in life still go on not outside in a hidden place far from the Holy hand of God but they are at play in His hand. Such is the security we can have in our King.

     I don't know what you have gone through or what we may face today but one thing is for certain, we are in the MIGHTY hand of our King and you are still his. 'For He is our God and we are the people of His pasture, the flock under His care,' Those words are real and we can believe them today. So LET US come, Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. 2 Let us come before Him with thanksgiving and extol Him with music and song. 3 For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods. 4 In His hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to Him. 5 The sea is His, for He made it, and His hands formed the dry land. 6 Come, let us bow down in worship,  let us kneel before the Lord our Maker; 7 for He is our God and we are the people of His pasture, the flock under His care.

Don't be afraid to dream

You can come as you are with all your broken pieces and shameful scars, all the pain in your heart you can bring it to Jesus, you can come as you are. Those are the lyrics to the song come as you are by the band Pocket Full Of Rocks. Sitting here and listening to that song paints a clear picture of where both my head and heart are but unlike the band, it's my soul that feels full of rocks.

I am quite the dreamer and shamelessly so. I love waking to see the sun rise, to listen to soulful music, to write music and poetry. I love to speak and to encourage and to facilitate conversation. Many conversations go on in my heart that my ears would banish if they managed to escape. On days like these, some things make painful sense. I have never battled thoughts of failure like i have in the last month.

This makes sense. I have a passion for people, those who see themselves as failures, worth less or even worth nothing. My heart bleeds for them. Who knew that i would battle the very things that i encourage others to attain to? I know God did. I am a firm believer in following not just your dreams but waking up and living them out. I do not believe that a human being should be defined by the money they make, where they live, the cars they drive: i believe these are simply add ons that come when dreams are not only dreamed but lived out with the right partners beside the dreamer. I believe in this life being a journey to a beautiful end but what happens when we begin to lose sight of the 'beautiful end' and even worse, fail to see any end?

'All i want is for you to be a successful man,' said my father this morning as i told him about the wedding date between my fiance and i. The context is, he knows i am a dreamer and he knows this world has a tendency to kill dreams and desire especially when they are bigger than the dreamer. How many people followed a deeply ingrained dream regardless of the voices that said they could never do it, most times their voice being in the mix? I know many, we have case studies of them, we praise them in articles and in lectures but are so fearful to be them. When did we stop dreaming and being a people who hope and envision and love the future as a blank canvas instead of a cluttered one full of rules, regulations with neither mystery nor color? Since when did i have to fight everyday to not dream?

It seems a time has come and is now here where dreams are caged and the worst enemies to our dreams are ourselves. Battling to shelve dreams does not kill the dream, it just gets passed on to a dreamer that will fight for their dream. Ever noticed that every job is one man's dream? What about yours, mine? Not that we should not have a job, but what happens to following a dream that has not necessarily been applied yet? Do we let it doe or follow it, nurture it, fight for it, pray for it, cry for it, work for it and then impart it? I guess i know how so many dreamers feel when they bury their dreams and the only people at the funeral are their mind and heart.

I am a dreamer. I am a writer, a poet, a speaker, a lover, an orator, an encourager, and most importantly a son of God and my God never lets his desires die. He says that His word will never go back to Him without accomplishing what He sent it to do. What if He sent a dream to you that you are so afraid to see rise up? Do you think it will go back to Him? No. He believes in what He has deposited in us to do. David, won't you believe it too? Dear [insert your name] won't you believe that He who started a good work in you will be faithful to complete it? He will. It is His pattern, His nature and His desire, that His word will find fertile ground ground and He will water it to completion. Till your dream, through pain, tears, joy, rain and discouragement. If your dream does not scare you to grow due to its greatness, it will limit and stagnate you due to its mediocrity.

Don't be afraid to dream.

Naked and ashamed

     When did we become such a sexualized generation? In 1974 there was a sexual revolution that basically set the tone for all that we are seeing. This was a subtle move to 'unchain' from the limitations of traditional sexual perceptions that included poems, movies and music that begun to be used on the forefront for Agenda Setting.

     In the guise of being liberated, humanity has never been as internally enslaved since the days of lynching where after being declared free, oppression not only follows you but is made to look normal. What started as a way that the west between 1960-1980's thought was a sexual revolution is what has manifested today to utter sexual degradation. A woman's body is one of the most amazing creations of God. She was in man when God looked at all creation and called it very good. Now, God's own affirmation is deemed nonsense. How can we accept affirmation from someone we vehemently believe does not exist?

     As men, we do not believe we are good and so limit our value to the strength and size of our erections. A man is more than a penis and if we as men can never understand this, then we can never see our women as more than a vagina. The day we begun to esteem a woman's body over her mind and who she is in her most intricate form is the day we lost the power to passionately and positively influence her mind. When all we feed our women is that they have a sexy body and they can gerrit, what looks to be food turns into poison that they take in instead.

     I remember a time we referred to our women as Soul Sistas, Queens and Common even did songs with lyrics like 'i want to build a tribe with you.....the pimp in me will have to die with you.(Come Close) I remember when Talib Kweli and Mos Def did songs like 'Beautiful' featuring Mary J Blige. 

Mos Def Lyrics: 

"God protect my beloved
and keep her covered
from the valley to the summit
like the land undiscovered
like the stars outnumbered, you are so beautiful."

Talib Kweli's Lyrics:

"You're like my reflection
the better half to my whole
like lyrics to the beat
you're the mate for my soul
the breath for my life, my sister and my lover
used to have cold feet, now you're the warmth under my covers
I cant ignore your aura because it grab me by the hand
like the moon pull the tide and the tide pull the sand."

Everything we do now is so degrading to the woman and we have done it so long that many are degrading themselves even without knowing it. My jaw dropped when i saw a picture of a mother taking a picture of her daughters behind as the daughter took a selfie. I thought to myself, if her mother would gladly do that, how can such a beautiful lady be respected by men who not only wants to do the same but go the extra mile? How will she ever value herself beyond her body? Since when did being the most sexy and bedding the most men matter the most and imprint value and identity?

     There was a video by some women who were angry with this but their response was highly myopic. They decided to boycott HBO until men's penises be shown in all HBO productions and in the end of their video against sexualization of media, sexualized men by having naked men stand with them. Men, is this what we call support to our women? Sexualizing ourselves? Absolutely not! We cannot empower the mind of a woman who we have limited to only esteem their body. Even if all the women in the world covered up all the way to their hair, there would be no solution until they see their most intricate form as needs to be seen. You do not need my affirmation as much as you need to stand on eternal affirmation. Before clothes were ever invented God called you good. What changed? Sin not only eroded our position in the garden of Eden but our condition as well. We, while in sin will never be good because our hearts have been made degraded so covering up will never be a solution.

     My heart genuinely pains when i see immature broken men use women as their crutches to spark what looks like a life. I know because severally a darkened mind goes there. I wonder if as men we were restored to God and eventually en mass rejected to watch any video sexualizing women, any song, any poem would there be a slight change? Would sober minded, mature, loving, restorative women join us? I pray so. It is about time we restored factory settings on our sexuality. Adam told Eve 'this IS NOW bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of a man. We need to go back to telling the beautiful amazing women of this world that they are valued, loved and beautiful. That their minds are powerful and their hearts precious. Let us not go back and tell these precious gifts of God that they ARE NOW video vixens, sex objects, money makers. Let us begin to speak back to women their value and their beauty en mass because we can run from that as much as we want but It starts with us.

3 THINGS I AM THANKFUL FOR

     So i have been nominated by my fiance to write 3 things daily that i am thankful for. It is such a great initiative that may just be the thing that gets me back to writing consistently so before i post my three, here's an unofficial thank you to the noble heart that started this initiative and for my beautiful fiance for picking it up :-)

THE THREE THINGS THAT I AM THANKFUL FOR TODAY

1.      1.  My mother’s laugh.

I treasure this mostly because for many years I have been a source of pain and consistent prayer to the queen that pushed me out of her womb and was the first person to call me hers. I fought with her, told her what my bruises from life’s battlefield had made me believe and never once asked how she felt. When God healed me emotionally and spiritually, He not only healed me but used my restoration to heal her. When she laughs with me now, it is more than a laugh, it is a signature of healing; the surgical scar that reminds me that we made it. I beatbox and she sings beautifully on some days and to see her happy and say she loves me then to laugh, that I am thankful for.

2.       2. My father’s strength and trust

Biblically I am to be his Father. Yes my father’s name is Solomon and the wisdom that gushes out of him makes him deserved to bear the name of such a man. Just like my mother, I was a source of pain and prayer for the man who carried me in his heart before I was his seed. We physically fought and of course he would go easy on me yet I would think I won the fights (thank you Dad) I didn't believe in myself and so I didn't believe anyone else did. The funny thing is that when you don’t love yourself, that becomes your lens and every act of love is unseen through that lens. My father once told me he doesn't trust me. I was mad, I was angry, I was betrayed. Not for a second did I ask how it got to that. My reward, standing on the roof of the house as an ‘unloved’ child about to jump and there I saw what I never thought I would. Tears in the eyes of the man I never knew had any. That changed me. I knew I was loved. He has borne so much: from resigning from jobs that paid him millions because he could not stand corruption to selling everything under his name to take care of his amazing wife and 7 children. I understood and once I did, I saw him different. We grew, we merged and today he trusts me: Not only monetarily but with his pain, his joys, his dreams and his hopes.

3.       3. Being believed in

As you have probably noticed, at some point of growing up I stopped believing in myself. I would probably have been the person Lupita spoke of about valid dreams but valid dreams mean nothing if I keep suffocating them myself and blame the fact that all I have is a corpse on everyone else other than me. On this continent, we rarely believe in each other. We seem to all be in a rat race not realizing that the biggest problem of being in a rat race is that we stopped being human eons ago. So when I have an idea and hear an encouragement, or hear a story of a child who had nothing but his bleeding dreams in his hand in a scorching continent and how they met the midwife that saved his dreams life, I stand and salute because there is something powerful that we all need and that is to be believed in. So to those who rise up with their dreams and hopes worn closer to the heart than expensive pendants, those who walk to the rhythm of purpose, feel no pain when the cold wind of rejection blows your way because a warmer breeze is coming. You may find it in the scent of simplicity and a kind gaze all saying one thing. I believe in you. So here’s to those of us who have felt the warmer breeze and are thankful for it

What are your three? Those are mine for today. See you tomorrow :-)

It Starts With Us: The Water

It Starts With Us: The Water:       I always used to wonder when watching these movies that show when one is drowning. Slow, intense, final. How can that which man uses ...

The Water

      I always used to wonder when watching these movies that show when one is drowning. Slow, intense, final. How can that which man uses for leisure be the same that man finds death in? I often wondered, until i was the one left facing the floor of the waters surface. I was drowning. I have been drowning. I think i still am. Being a writer was one of the best things in my life. There were days when i would literally have butterflies when i would hold a pen. Writing always felt like a first date. My mind would play dress up, smell fresh, stand straight and eagerly wait to ring the doorbell of the page i was on just to meet your mind. I used to love to take a walk in the rain while still living in Fedha Estate more than 8 years ago. That, i did not to protect myself from the rain but to enjoy it. I would sit on the slabs in Maua Close with a large umbrella in my right hand as it poured; watching others run almost in slow motion to escape the very drops of water they would on the weekend crave to jump in in the name of swimming. I loved life and you could smell life on me. 

     When i started out in university i remember telling my friend and roommate Kombo that nobody would know i was a poet- false humility at work. He ensured i was proven wrong at his hand. Fast forward a week or so after that statement i was on a stage humbled by yet another standing ovation- false humility not at work here. I had around this very time been the featured poet at Kwani? at just the age of 16/17. I was working with the best artistes in the country as well as the best producers. Later on i met the amazing Imani Woomera who managed to convince me that i could make a difference with my poetry. She carried me as we; together with other brilliant poets begun Slam Africa under who i term one of the best poets i have ever listened to. I believed in myself, my music and my poetry. Things were looking good. I was now recording together with extremely talented friends and the beautiful thing was that these weren't just songs we were doing. We weren't just musicians, we breathed it, bled it and loved it. We were on the rise. I was on the rise. Was. Something happened to me. Something broke. 

    2009 was the last time i loved poetry, music and writing. I can't remember exactly where this passion i once walked hand in hand with slipped away to. Maybe i was careless. How does one walk hand in hand with another and not feel the other hand slipping away? I had gone too far into obscurity to look for passions hand and i was naive enough to believe it would find me. I could write in my sleep but that was never why i loved poetry and eventually i found myself writing in my sleep and never when awake to the fact that i was broken. I saw the art prostituted. I roamed streets seeing poetry and music under street lights skimpily dressed, showing thighs and cleavage and the same voice that once proclaimed in sober breath power to the people was staggering and screaming YOLO. 'Sista' was a term last used by the likes of Angie Stone and Jill Scott before time changed lingoes just as fast as it changed hearts. I now craved for something that nobody recognized any longer. I begun to feel old and irrelevant reading obituaries of hopes and passion. I lost faith in my own words. The very same words that i was told could change the world were dying inside struggling to change me.

      I stopped writing and my reflection begun to grow grey hair and wrinkles so i avoided looking into the mirror. Because i no longer believed in my own words i fueled myself on the words of others to the point only dust from my heart could be seen hanging off the cliff of my lips; even the dust seemed to have no place in me. Hollow filled i did the only thing i thought i could. I gave it all up. I told God take it all. My hands had become too feeble to hold onto dreams any longer and so i put them in stronger hands. What better than to look for passion- old and grey in the one that made her? 

     5 years i felt like i still had nothing to offer. Here i was, restored in my faith in God, yet i still despised myself for not running through those alleyways all those years ago to find passion and here i was still grieving. Still grappling with the question many like me fight with: am I really good enough? Do my words matter anymore? Will i ever feel alive again and will passion ever resurrect because i am tired of graveyard visits staring at unmarked tombstones with all i have being my fear of the rain. So here i am, no umbrella, looking for the living among the dead and knowing that it has to change, and then you pushed me. Pushed me into water that found me in the middle of nowhere and here i am drowning: believing you pushed me for a purpose only you know but that i have come to love; the only thing i love these days. The sky never looked more beautiful like it does from within the water. Suffocating, looking to my left i see you passion: un-aged, smiling and with your hand stretched out. I was pushed to find you and your hand in mine has never felt more purposeful. I remember looking at you as my eyes closed slowly and the illusion of feet wade in the water. 

     Today you're here. Still un-aged, still smiling saying i waited for you and you came for me. You were still beautiful because you were in the water and the very same water is where our love was re-birthed. I now know how it feels to be drowning but now i know the beauty of how it feels to be alive.

Travelling signature

I believe in time travel....
I hope after this, you will believe together with me.

There are days i stare, my eyes, these brown searching eyes knock on unopened doors,
peep through the empty key holes of existence just to see beyond what lies in front of me.
I've been to places my physical self either only dreams of or anticipates to be.
I've stared into my daughters eyes numerous times: yet she is still awaiting to be ushered into life by two spirit beings wrapped in flesh to celebrate God and welcome her home. Yes, spirit beings because we really are so much spirit, flesh is just an add on.
I've held her soft unscathed hands in my experienced palm, watched her tiny fingers and palm move on mine as i think,
your skin is part of mine.
I've walked on sandy shores alone: praying, speaking, laughing, crying, all without leaving the focus of my blank stare.
I've gone to the past,
remembering failed friendships and relationships, fights with my family as the present me just stands there and watches me, not angrily, but with a sombre gaze and a warm whisper 'it will all make sense.' to crack the icy world the past me had crafted.
I remember growing up with naivety and genius both intertwined in the crevices of my mind.
Memories of my first drinking spree with my friends rush in this one stare,
dark hallway, drink in hand, lady in sight but how i forfeited the lady i had eyes on for the one i could place my hand on.
I remember the fights, the blood flying slowly as if to the sound of slow opera, almost like art, and how my almost numbed heart had loved it.
I remember the friends lost from the snare of cold words,
words that i had allowed to shape me, to craft me,
words that sub-consciously were taking the place of my breath,
my lungs were filled with poisoned words received and just like air, they too found their way out.
I remember slipping out of class when young, sitting in the gents with a knife caressing my wrist as class went on,
and going back to class with a smile like nothing had happened.
See in a quick but short stare i remember the journey, i remember the past and hide in the future knitting together these two threads of reality with the thread of my present.
I remember repentance, unmerited forgiveness for me and in the depth of the mist that i had lived in
I could finally see light and how it all fits in:
seeing my daughter struggle to feel physically loved to quench emotional and spiritual thirst and i know right then why i craved the same.
I see my son come home angry with blood on his shirt and i know why i was the same.
On some days It hurt to be me yet in the prism of life Gods light sheds abroad and i see the bigger, beautiful picture.
I hear 'daddy why do i have to go through this?' and in joy i see that i can finally have an answer, not to all their questions but to those God allowed me to live in.

I learn to love my purpose-full tears as we are called to be the salt of the earth and no wonder, my tears have the largest components of salt. Who would have known they carried healing!

I see my wife, her in her splendor and glow, radiant and the envy of all precious jewels, i see her beyond the smile and beyond the frown, i see her, beyond, yet here.
I revel in our journey, separate and together even before we say i do,
similar yet different; birthed together in the womb of purpose and Agape.

I see the future, it is close, as close as two strangers smiling not knowing they will journey together,
close though it may feel never reaching.
I know why my scars exist but i know why my smile does as well.

God made it for you. We were made for testimony, bearing witness to intricately woven strands of grace piecing together our past, present and future.
With every prick of life's needle, i shall bear the pain, the hurt, the laughs so well hidden in the mines of life that i was so afraid to enter not knowing all that would encompass me were explosions of joy.

See, I believe in time travel.  As i sat here, staring at the thickets outside my window get battered by the rain, i couldn't help but notice something beautiful. Something that felt like poetry when i saw leaves cradle droplets of rain, gently; mother-like, releasing drop by drop to the earth in a slow but incandescent manner. Indeed, time stood still. I couldn't help but feel like the drop of rain commissioned to strike at the heart of the soil, leaving the signature of the cloud that sent me, one day to return to the very clouds having fulfilled all i was meant to, not just for me, but for where i was gently dropped.

I remember when it hit me like a gush of cold wind that for you, i shall bear the soil, the winds and the boots, if just to water you and i remember when i loved to know that.

As i sit here, I believe in time travel, the purpose of all things merging

merging together that i may be a signature of my Cloud.

SLOW FADES

A dark cloud has been brooding over us for ages. The thing about dark clouds that everybody knows: they are pregnant with rain. I hear the question when did the rain start to beat us and i ask, when did we begin to think we didn't need an umbrella? We were probably in a hurry and never really thought it would rain even though that dark menacing cloud was speaking to us. When our hearts were ok without umbrellas, is really when the rain begun to beat us. Let me explain.

The first time i came across porn was in primary school, can't quite remember what class though. We were huddled up in the house of a younger kid than me, one who was quite rich i should add and the excitement in the air was almost tangible. As i saw these naked people, in the midst of my carnal pleasures, there was a spark lingering in my dark heart that was asking, how did they get there? At the time my main concern was not that it was sex but that it was public and that was my problem number 1.

Every human being has an internal desire to feel loved. The form of love though can be varied and at most times, skewed. Our hearts for ages have embraced a desire to be gratified by any means necessary. Sexual perversion has been placed in the core of our minds and hearts and to see the recent happenings at the coast come to light is just an example of the slow fade that this has brought.

Let's not be fooled, bestiality has been going on for long before the Mombasa story ever hit the eye. Men have been known to satisfy sexual urges by preying on varying animals that i need not mention for the sake of mental sobriety. The things we watch, listen to have sold self gratification to unprecedented levels. We no longer have value for ourselves. Things such as masturbation have now become a norm as much as many would not like to admit. When a lady in porn was using a carrot or cucumber, people had no problem. When a man would use a fruit or a similar object, nobody objected. The undertones here are quite severe. If we treat our sexual organs as though all they are worth is to be gratified, made to feel good, then of course over time we'll want more and more, better and better and eventually move from inanimate tools to animate ones such as animals.

This heart of man is deceitful. When talking with some friends, i tried to pick their mind on what was so wrong with the incidence concerning the ladies at the coast and many just said it being a dog was the problem. As much as i understand the magnitude of that, it did not just start there. The deceit of the heart had been at work over years, killing value for the individual, reducing them from being a full human being to just respecting their vagina not for the sacredness of it but as a means to an end.. By the time you begin to envision penetrating an animal or an animal penetrating you, even before the act itself, you really have killed your self worth. 

How then can we redeem this because as i said, it starts as a slow fade. From 'innocent porn' to masturbation  to full out sex with anything as by that point all you want is that orgasm so as to feel fulfilled. I think we should come to terms with the fact that we have been selling ourselves short, that we have been equating our manhood to the have and use of a penis and diminishing womanhood to the have and use of a vagina. It takes honesty to rid ourselves of this and also a determination to set an example for our children. Some will dismiss these necessities until their daughter turns into a teenager and starts to do worse than what their mother or father used to do and by then you will not be able to do a thing as how can you show her otherwise when you have never interacted with something different.

Something needs to change and something needs to change fast. We need to rethink who we are beyond wanting to be made to feel good, to be gratified because one day when your gratification does not come and the world of depression has set in and you are desperate for that sexual high knowing very well that you have tried 'everything' there is and are not getting satisfied, you may just be the person spoken about next. The change begins with us as we invest for our children, our nieces, nephews, brothers, sisters or friends. If not, we'll keep being in a hurry, leaving the umbrella in its usual corner as we run out laughing at the dark cloud above us and cursing when the rain beats us again, and again and again. Kill the slow fade. 

It starts with us.

A letter to both boys and men

          I often hear the glory of a boy is found in his metamorphosis into a man. I tend to believe this is true. I remember the days when all we wanted was to look the hardest, spit the best game; basically, womanise the most. The awards for the best boys were in categories such as the best drinker, the best manipulator, the most sex had, the best fighter and a lot more. If you were seen to have dominion in those fields, you were called 'the man.'

     Growing up knowing that those are the characters that 'the man' is made of, many boys strive to achieve this version of manhood. Would it be safe to say then that manhood is what you make it? I doubt it. If the opening statement of this piece is anything to go by, it seems that there is a glory gained when one finally becomes a man. From my short time on this planet, I have learnt that nothing reaches glorification without going through personal sacrifice in order to rid themselves of something, so as to gain something greater in return.

     I was called a man way before I was one. Many boys have been adorned with the same words that I was: verbal jewels to people who have no knowledge of the worth they are adorned with. The day I realized it was all a lie is when I was faced with the truth that I did not know who I really was. Circumstances such as failed relationships taught me that I had no capacity to either lead or to sacrifice for a greater cause.

     My family relationships were strained as I always believed that I was a man and needed nobody to teach me anything. I fought with my father, brothers and the men God put in my life to raise me. I thought them, and not I, were the problem and so I would do things my own way, anything to justify that I was a man. Well, news flash, a man does not need to justify his manhood, it is seen by all and sundry. I needed to change.

     The first step was to take responsibility and apologize to my mother and father and tell them I need them to keep raising me. It was difficult and painful but the blessing of healing has to come as a result of the curse of pain. My heart bleeds when I watch people gain identity from the same vices I did, from poison. Where are the real men hiding? What are we doing to show the true picture of what it means to be a man?  How many have passed through the sieves of life that have released the boys in us and left the men within to proceed forth? It is no wonder that many women are taking up 'manly' roles because the metamorphosis from boyhood to manhood has been cut off by pride and a fear of getting hurt. All this time we spend running from manhood, the world continues to revolve. It will not wait for men to appear.

     Manhood is deeper than money, chest hairs, a deep voice and any other myopic descriptions that have caged its expression. A man is meant to be a visionary who sees far beyond anybody else, a discerner who carries the authority of God on earth. Now before this is termed egotistic, look at the case of Adam in the Bible. He was to have dominion over all things, not by his own understanding but by the virtue of having the mind of God; being made in the image and likeness of God. After he had slept and his rib was taken to make Eve, he awoke, looked at her and discerned that she came from him. Can we say the same of ourselves as men in today's world? What are we able to discern? Who are we able to lead?

     The world we live in today has taught us that men are known more for running away from responsibility than taking responsibility. Our music depicts this, movies depict this and the worst part is that our own lives depict this. Let me let you in on a well known secret. Women are climbing the ladder of life as men are comfortable asking what a ladder is. Our sons are not being fathered, our brothers do not see role models in us and we have ourselves to blame for the appalling state of manhood in the world today. We who have morphed into men have failed! We have boys in their 30s who still think life is about winning the boy awards. They believe a man has to have many women in his life and lead none. They believe that their penis is their greatest gift and the ultimate definition of manhood forgetting that even baby boys are born with those 'tools.' If they understood this truth they would understand that manhood is not defined by erections, lust, and monetary value but there is a roaring spirit trapped in a male that is being suffocated and should be released.

     We are worth more than we think we are. Boys, if nobody ever told you, let me tell you now. You were created for so much more. We are to be great fathers and husbands, leaders, protectors and vision bearers of our homes and communities. If your own father figures failed you I am sorry but please do not give up on being a better man. We need you. We need your strength, leadership and vision. We need the homes of the future to be led by you. We cannot keep throwing destiny in the trash bin. We cannot keep hurting the women in our lives, impregnating and leaving them. It is not right to hurt others, we have been lied to.

      We need to rise. It does not matter where you have been; the sewer is not your home. You may or may not have been taught what it means to be a man but we will do better to show you. We are sorry for guiding you in the wrong paths. For our lifestyles portraying women as tools to use, for telling you that you are only as good as how much you earn. You are worth much more. Let us rise from this pain that we have gone through as boys who have never known manhood and have had to learn on the job. We have been judged for not being men yet many have never interacted with what that means. It is time to learn and live in accordance to what we were created for. Men, it starts with us. We have to pull our brothers, sons and nephews from the pit of self destruction. The work starts now!

A look through the lens

     Greetings. Seeing as this is the first post off this new blog, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read this. I have not written anything other than music and poetry for a while now but over time an insatiable hunger to write and speak out has been gnawing at the walls of my belly and it now seems quite apparent that something wants to come out. 

     Recently, we had Kenyans on twitter putting MPs in their place about their contentious bonus issue. I applaud all those who let the strength of their voices echo through social media and into the ears of the masses. As I was scrolling through the tweets, I could tell that there was a genuine sense of distress from the citizens of this great republic. I could almost see those incensed marching even before they did. I knew a shaking was on the rise. 

     All this time a question was raging from within me: who is the enemy we as a country are fighting? The strange thing is I thought I had always known this answer. I was cemented in the belief that it was the police, the corporate world, MPs, etc.  It had to be. The impunity in our institutions as devolved from the seat of power was a rot in our once healthy bones and decay in the marrow of our nation. As a result, someone has to take the blame. From my myopic viewpoint, I thought that individuals and systems were the problem. The people in power had misused us for so long that it simply had to be power that was the poison. If this theory I had (and that most of us have) is to be held as true, we are then robbed of every ounce of hope as power is a constant even in a world lacking politicians. 

     So what is the problem? Well, if you may allow me to chisel out the truth, I shall do my best. We are all born fallible. In the journey of life, we pick up individual traits that are selfish, defiant, malicious, and just to call a spade a spade; sinful. We believe that the fight is everywhere else apart from within us. Recalling a conversation I had a year ago, I engaged a young man visiting Kenya with the question ‘what is your reason to wake up every morning?’ He told me that he lives to ensure everything in the world becomes better. As noble as this sounded, it had a problem. I replied to his answer with another question: ‘so if everything in the world becomes amazing, you will no longer have a reason to wake up?’ It seemed that if everything in the world was better, everything in him would be as well. Who would have vanquished our internal struggles? Slightly puzzled but considerably excited, my friend immediately understood that truly there had to be something deeper than what is without us. Using this as a reference point, I shall cease my digression and return to the matter at hand. 

     The biggest problem we face as a people is our self. The biggest giant facing us as a people is indeed our character. The politicians are not to blame due to their position as the biggest hindrance in leadership is a character problem and not a positional problem. The fastest way to rectify this is to take responsibility as an individual. We will never be able to move forward as a people if individually we are tolerating stagnation and a scapegoat culture in our lives. We need to cut off all the traits within us that bring our country to shame. It starts with us. Corruption, tribalism, impunity and any other ailment to our nation are not just in the people visibly doing the action, but in the mind that secretly condones the act. Each one of us has to turn the pitchforks to our character flaws so that by the time we are turning them on others, we may have the capacity to be an example to our leaders. 

     So my friends, both new and old, I beseech you, let us stop flaunting our skin as if it is flawless knowing very well that our bones and marrow are rotting. If we want good leadership, we must start in our homes, our friendships and all the other ‘little things’ that we overlook. We simply must. Finally, I know both the problem and the solution. I have not been a good man but I have to become a better man, for the sake of my generation. What will you choose to do? It all begins with us.