Occasionally, I forget why I love writing so much and my blogging presumption drops precipitously, until I come across a scenario that jolts me out of my funk. This doesn’t take a while; relationships typically freak me out, how things work out too fast to backfire.

​When your wife does homework for your kids and they all get zero’s; That’s the time you start remembering all the times we told you it’s not always about physical beauty…

I came to realize that relationships are Just about stories, not truth.Therefore  as I try convincing you, as individuals, we each have our own personal mythologies, the stories we tell in order to make sense of ourselves to ourselves. There’s that time we sit alone in the dark thinking of the things we’d do without relationships. That generally works fine as long as we stay sane and single, but the minute you enter an intimate relationship with another person there is an automatic dissonance between your story about yourself and his or her story about you.

Do you ever feel like going away, far from the noise; of people, your phone, traffic, bills just away by yourself to a place where you do not have to worry about anything and anyone?



I am not here to write any story. It’s not that I don’t have any, I have lots of them. But the main reason why I am writing here is to express affliction and water-weight understanding of what these stories entail.

For the better part of the beginning: {The beginning of the end of my previous relationship}

Of last year I felt like running away from my world as I know it. I wanted to go to a place where there is no technology, where I do not know anyone and no one knows me. Where I will not hear the latest news in our family, or even worry what I am going to cook for supper, or when the next class assignment was due.

Maybe I wanted to run away from the responsibilities but maybe I just wanted to recharge, to feel something different, reconnect with myself and listen to myself without all the distractions. I was in perfect dissonance with myself for failing in love.

If relationships do you more harm than good. May you guys who hurt you always step on a wet spot after wearing socks. May they get pimples inside their noses. May an army of termites invade their armpits. May they diarrhea on their honeymoons. May all their downloads fail at 99% (Mideva Givens, 2017)…

Inspired by Mideva Givens.




When we start a blog, most of us are just hoping to get noticed by a few people, get a comment here or there and maybe even build an audience at some point. For the majority: the latter never happens. After a few weeks or months of seeing little to no results, we simply give up. But then there is another set of folks, certainly the minority, that are able to break through that initial slow period and gain traction. And as the traction builds, so does the audience, the comments, the tweets, the shares.

Today’s intention is farfetched : this is not your ordinary blog. You’re about to face one of the fears no one will ever tell you except when you contemplate your adversary on the face of death. A while ago, that’s barely two days. I met Emily Bokar at one of my common hideouts in Upper-hill “I-HUB Nairobi”. She’s probably not that iconic figure everyone else knows. I’m about to pull a throwback to give you a joist about this epic lady E-M-I-L-Y B-O-K-A-R.

November 2009, President Obama was escorted by his Secret Service detail through a cordoned VIP section near the foot of the stage. Scanning the small crowd, his face lit up with delight as he moved over to a young woman and pulled her into a heartfelt embrace. Depicted from behind, the mystery woman’s face was obscured. Yet anyone within earshot picked up a clue to her identity: “Emily!” the president exclaimed. “What are you doing in Alaska?” Emily Bokar can’t recall exactly what she answered, but she remembers thinking, “Living my dream. Just like you.”

Bokar at 28 was Obama’s digital strategist and a key role player for the Obama campaign to White-house, after working for more than four years as one of his key aides. Arriving in Alaska to her was like: coming home to a place she’d never been before. It was love at first sight – or first moose sighting. Before this point she had prioritized on turning people down since she was irresistible element in the Obama government, but today she can tell you nothing is more important in investing in connection and social interaction.

At times we carry the weight of the world feeling completely responsible and out of  line. Having worked in White-house she gladly moved out expecting a diplomatic treat having engineered a way for Americas first BLACK president. Sadly that was exit from the White-house corridors.

Nobody outside of your immediate family and circle of friends really cares very much about you because you don’t impact their lives. Most people are focused predominantly on themselves. They have neither the time nor the energy to devote to people that have little effect on them.

Plus, somewhat ironically, the only concern most people have for you is their own misguided self-consciousness about what you are thinking about them!

When you think other people are thinking about you, it’s actually you who is thinking about you. When you believe others are being critical of you, they’re not. Are you a mind reader? Of course not, we humans aren’t clairvoyant (though we like to think we are). So when you think someone is thinking badly of you, it’s really you thinking badly of you. You’re not as important as you think you are.



​Don’t ask me where I have been the past three fridays. Despite not posting anything on my blog I’ve been busy rummaging through the entire sphere of creative buggers. Trying to explore the dimensions of life…

 ​I’m walking in town holding a cappuccino soaked in sugar and thick chocolate cream and coffee. It’s rather cold and a bit muddy, yester-night it did rain. Just by my arm holding another paper bag hanging off with a quarter steak barbeque pizza; 

I come across this young boy (probably 12 years).  I’m used to see him each and every morning. As usual very punctual to his spot, most likely he wakes up very early to get to town so to ask for few coins from by passers. “Brathe sijakunywa kitu aki nisaidie…” he says. His voice is very faint that I think he’s been probably hungry for days. But for today I feel he’s not sincere. Today being  one of those fine day I’m taking breakfast in town, but definitely it’s not on my bill. I consistently try to put him off but it’s in vain;  “bro kesho pia ni siku…” I retaliate back. But he’s very persistent as we walk side to side …  he follows me from the August Memorial park to the entrance of transition authority.
This resulted a change in heart so I decide to hold a talk with him as  I put my hand on his shoulder. Sure enough this wasn’t a mistake; confidentially he tells me he’s from Majengo and he’s called Brian and all his parents abandoned him. It’s a major coincidence to find my name sake in the streets early this chilly morning.  Probably it hits me that “Brian’s are go getters and quite ambitious”. Now I find a friend I can advice… after a long talk I give him a note from my pocket and whisper some words to him that I know will help as he struggles to make ends meet in the Nairobi streets “life is hard but dont try to steal.”

Our main purpose in life is to help others..  If you can’t, at least don’t hurt them”


There are times when life is more than the update on Facebook, the tweets, the Instant Messages, and texts. Sometimes, the important times, it’s about looking beyond the abridged, the instants, the clichés. It’s about discovering what God is really trying to say to you.

G.White sought “It’s not earthly rank, nor birth, nor nationality, nor religious privilege, which proves that we are members of the family of God; It is love, a love that embraces all humanity, a love that creates a warm bond with the less fortunate in society.” It’s very-very easy to slip into complacency and become relaxed in religion.  As Man can’t stands still with the humanly desires. He is always being pulled or pushed in myriad directions. In whichever direction he is swaying in, he gathers pace in that direction. The more the person carries on down that path, the more difficult it becomes to stop and change direction. Such is sinful life the more you get into sinfulness the robust culture of inequity, immorality and moral decay builds inside you as a stooge.Henceforth people related by Faith should use the expression of peace and heartfelt love to address each other. Thus Islam taught Muslims to say “Assalamu alaykum” (meaning ‘Peace be upon you’) and replaced all other forms of greeting. 

In this small greeting is hidden an excellent and comprehensive prayer, kindness and affection for the young, and respect and attention for the elders. As a result the perfection of Christian character depends wholly upon the grace and strength found alone in God. God tests and proves us by the common occurrences of life. It is the little things which reveal the chapters of the heart. To some people you may be the only Bible they ever read.


​To all the boys masquerading as men; and men who mistakenly think they are God’s gift to women; to husbands who have rings and yet do not understand what being a husband entails; and every married man who is a disappointment to the society.

Dating an intelligent, confident woman, you can’t avoid arguments. Sometimes you have to drop your pride and listen to her.. Or date a “sheep”. So if she cannot cook and she says its fine, just stick by that. It’s fine you’re in a relationship not a restaurant. I highly attest to the fact that anyone can drive a relationship right with a right attitude.

But if today she tells you “love is not all about money” don’t be be too vague to believe that clique. You can never pay your bills with a hug, at least that I know.

Isn’t this what people go through in marriage? I have always admired getting married one day but am a bit scared now! Where does the first love go to when people get married? Isn’t the time people should fall in love more? I know that marriage is not for everybody, myself included.

I do not know much about love, but I know I have been hurt before and it was so much pain it sent me on my knees. I was numb for weeks, my eyes looked like those of one stung by a wasp. The smell of fresh bread would remind me of her, the sound of footsteps approaching, even the face of an actress who appeared in our favorite film, and I would become more numb. Nobody ought to be hurt and nobody ought to go through such pain!

 Should you fall for her; don’t hurt her..


​​It’s really nice witnessing the emancipation of the future leaders of this country and Africa in general. This reminds me of the pan-african dream, I have always screamed about this but many ignorant folks dismiss it claiming I’m stuck in the past. But the only past I’m stuck in is the one Thomas Sankara left unachieved, it’s the same past that Carl marx left for me to persue so that we can have a better kenya that Prof. Muta Mathai wanted.

I can’t agree anymore. You have laid it bare… the real freedom fighters never got to taste the joy and fruits of their strive. The traitors were cunningly imposed. Traitors who never understood the cost of freedom still swim in the same blood that was meant to bring us redemption. 

The most unfortunate part of it all is that any leader who emerged to challenge the establishment was eliminated by the colonialists and their puppets ‘in-charge’.. That is the tragedy that befell the likes of Thomas Sankara and Che Guivera..

I refuse to be counted in a regime where bloodshed is the order of the day. A regime where your voice is noise, a regime where elections are won to be revealed later that they were stolen, a regime where we vote on tribal lines, a regime where the whistle blower is a culprit of a corrupt deal gone sour, a regime where we’re ruled by father and son become president like it’s a monarch [and you still want to convince me of free and fair election] 

 That is a regime that needs a revolution.. independence wasn’t gained through negotiations blood was shed and lives were lost. I’m unafraid to bring change so If today you see me agonizing about the status quo that’s the same purpose for which my blog was born. The only purpose in life remains my tagline “rebelling against status quo and rejecting mediocrity”. Untill that’s achieved “the better days are still ahead of us”.

PAN-AFRICA died long before I was born. The only PAN in AFRICA I know is the one that fries us in TRIBALISM CORRUPTION and NEPOTISM. 


​Growing up in the suburbs of Nyamasaria, Kisumu was the best thing ever in my entire childhood. This feeling used to be great staying near a river and almost drowning. I recall that to one day I swallowed gallons of water trying to salvage my old, blue, umoja-slippers that had more sewn patches that you couldn’t tell the original colour with ease but at least I had stopped walking on foot after getting to senior primary. 

This tale is one of my untold encounters with the deep waters of Lake Sango, at least I saved my slippers and my life was spared after I literally ate heavy slaps from the on by lookers who rescued me. My face became numb I was battling the tragedy of having a stomach full of water I had unwillingly drunk. On this fateful day I was evading school  to playing by the sandy shores only God saved me from the wrath of this water. 

The nostalgic memory of waking up early mornings for a school in the hill [alias Milimani], such was life… by 6:30 everyday was a Maths class by “Meda the Great”. This is one man who cultivated me to the mathematician people see around scribbling formulae on statistics problems. Before I got here I attribute my success to the bamboo strokes I got for the geometric errors I had made while trying to construct mathematical problems.

By all means things aren’t this way nowadays. Life has changed the rivers of Nyamasaria have dried up and only wastes from nearby industries are draining into the black stinky waters.

Meda the great is no longer with us after his unclear demise years ago never the less he’s not the only one. There’s times when everything will turn to a memory, I’ve come to realize nothing lasts forever… And that what is given birth to… will forever be more pretty than what gives birth; you can quote that epilogue from one great book “The animal farm”. “Kizaliwacho daima huwa chema kuliko kizaacho”


​​Law school is not HARVARD. Whatever happens in law school does not stay there. Non-correspondingly what happens in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas but Harvard is not Las Vegas!

What happens in law school follows you into your career like your own shadow. Your classmates will one day become co-counsels, senior-counsels, opposing counsels or even judges. Your student will be better than you one day. Creating good and healthy relationships is very essential for survival.

So don’t act like you know me.. I’m not your hommie I’m just another writer on the block.

I have realized that the words that stir up in me are a clear reflection of what is going on inside me. So when I said ” I do not capitalize words to yell at your face but to mean every sense of them..”I meant every “tid bit” of my creative writes. 

These words give a clear picture of what I am feeling even if my self conscious is too distracted to understand.

Lately I have been very angry because I have been let down by people I thought would stand at watch for me. Being disappointed by the world is one thing, but being stabbed by people you considered special agent’s in your life is a complete mess. I imagined them as people who’d light a candle when I’m in darkness.

So for me to see a quote like that by Eckhart Tolkh “Dont capitalize on words to implore meanings”, it stopped me right in my tracks. I evaluated every word the way a wine taster swirls every drop in their mouth after carefully smelling the wine and inhaling its essence.

I closed my eyes and let the words paint a melody so loud it reverberated in my being. The echoes, they brought truth to me as the rain gently pounded the trees outside. I have to choose the life I want for it to manifest.

Humanity ceased to be what it was meant to be when we grew up with tainted mentalities. Think of the times when we’d tell our friends to rub our names in noise makers list! Thats how corruption started. These are specs on a mirror that may cause it look more grissy. Thats why change is needed everything needs a blueprint meditation!!


​Reminder that Trump’s “America First” slogan was recycled from American Nazi sympathizers from WWII [World War II].

But sure this day will go down to history and it shall pass; so be it. Concurrently a 72yr Old Governor John Obiero Nyagarama among the millions of people standing far away under the trees listening to US 45th President Donald Trump in the US… Whereas due to displeasure I had to literally sit down on the tiled floor to have a moment of silence. It is so sad watching a young and charismatic person exiting leadership for the old, unqualified and untested person. I’ll will miss you Barrack Obama.

As an economist I’m meant to think out of the controversy. Many people think economists are reserved, stingy you can say all that pessimistic crap becausein your case you only think of reading theory. In my first year I almost quit my area of profession, I had no passion at all, leave alone a purpose in life. Since I had to fulfill the societal goals [read, go to the university, take a degree, find a job and marry]. That was it.. Until I found this Lecturer in 3rd Year Paul Mwangi Gachanja. His talk can cook rice that I admit. He’s no motivational speaker.. whatever he says is purely factual if not substantiable. Some times I’m forced to attend lectures for classes I’m not taking. Thats hiw far motivation and ambition can get you. Above all everyone is a master of themself ,”No one can get you what you want unless you go for it.

Haphazardly the climate change pages on the white house web site being taken down within minutes of being sworn in. Thats idiocracy! Yeah! Change is inevitable, but evicting change is more worse. Let’s keep hope alive.

But Trump Lost!!! So I dont care about the “Electoral College”.


​If I die tonight in my sleep don’t bother to take me to the morgue.

Just cover my face using my blankets and let me rest because I’ve ashamed you in this time of desperation.

Let me take my time and try to absorb the reality of how this life I was given has been… 

I cherish this body but after tonight it will be less important as soil. 

I will die in my sleep to mourn all the dreams I hadn’t achieved on behalf of the boy-child .They’ll will ridicule me for being lazy and why I had to only die in my sleep. Then say I’m a weakling and I couldn’t handle any fatality and only sleep could kill me. But for the record I still love sleep.

I won’t answer to their criticism anymore but let them know where I’m gone has a finality “I can’t come to them but they’ll soon come to me.”

If I die tonight I’ll die because of depression which I tried to tell my campus girl-friend”Roxie” and she told me “wee hujui stress ni nini”. Few nights  later at our usual hanging joint she went missing and later to find her laying down after a successful suicide attempt. Her brain spilt over the super highway after she jumped from the flyover foot path. But now I’m probably standing at a point higher than the footpath, if I probably jump you wont even collect my bones leave alone the brains. But I’m too lazy to jump because I know I’ll die in my sleep so that you atleast have one more chance to stance at my flesh.

It’s an abomination to commit suicide. Immediately my grandma hears this it will be too late for her to tell “spit that saliva and return that talk where you got it”. My church members will condemn me for my staunch stand I had and this will clarify the doubt they had always had.. and now they will say I’m the reason behind all the pregnant youth who left for fear of shame and ridicule. 

It had proofed too hard to live in a world of profanity when my crush Beverley was molested by her own father. When her mother had left pending their separation the worst happened and as we had been taught in pastoral; “ukifanya tabia mbaya hautaenda binguni”. Why should I live? And above all let me die that I be here for her in case she wont Make it to heaven.

Is death an End? No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it…

I know now you want take this journey Right?