Just Jackie!

You ever seen a movie where the girls falls in love in one month and she’s already picking baby names and planning her wedding coz she found ‘the one’That girl is me! All the time! I love to love! First time I was inlove….I picked flowers, dresses, honeymoon destinations, baby names I even went to one of those baby face apps and matched me and my ex’s faces together  to check if we would have an ugly baby..( I do that in month 2 of dating you Im sorry, I cant take any chances) The apps are sickening accurate, I tried it on my sister and her hubby (I’m sorry Lydia and Rahim, I was just checking) and my niece was so close to the apps prediction image!Yes I love to love and I go overboard sometimes its my bad habit because when you put in such high expectation its so easy to be broken and Oh Lawd was I broken in tiny little pieces when our 2 yr on and off charades ended…I drank a bottle of wine every single night! Every single night! Because I couldn’t sleep! Yes, I was slowly becoming a tinsy bitsy alcoholic….and I would hide when I drink because I didn’t want anyone to know how bad I was doing, I was angry. Very angry. The anger was extreme! I would treat people terribly  I was rude and mean gosh I was toxic! It took me a while to get rid of it, a nun walked up to me at a certain office, I had rudely cut off a line and answered the man infront of me in the worst possible way and left the whole crowd in amazement.. she walked up to me and asked ' Why are you so angry? Forgive them, whoever it is, its not worth it' It was like an epiphany..I moved to another region..traveled all across the region to see what I can do to help the community, involved myself with all sorts of projects to keep myself busy. And Gosh I was busy. But I was still broken angry. And you know the saying ;hurt people , hurt…people' Its damn right accurate. The first guy I dated after that merry go round I messed him up like no ones business. I treated him so bad I cant even bring myself to forgive me for how I treated him till date. Then I noticed, I was doing to him the same things that had been done to me. Pain is a chain. It is.  I was hurt and I was vulnerable and much worse, I was scared, I was scared of every single man I met, I was scared of men in the street I was scared of men at church I was scared of all men, at one point I cancelled out the forever after happy neutral family thoughts that I used to look upto, I didn’t even want to hear it, I told my very born again mother that I don’t think I like men anymore ..long story short …I was in a church having the devil cursed out of me ..Oh mom hahaha… . I didn’t trust anyone and in my little mind I was protecting myself. I build a wall so high even the wind couldn’t come above it.Heartbreaks are hard, they can ruin you….people will think you’re crazy you’re insane. I had a cousin who thought she was helping me by telling me what he was doing, letting me know he was moving on she didn’t even know how hurtful she was being,  I learned, when people are hurt, don’t try help, don’t try give them advice, let them hurt, let them heal and most all. Listen to them..dont give advice don’t tell them what to do. Just listen….I had a friend I used to complain to…every single damn week I call him complaining about how angry I was….He has no idea  but his no judgement listening kept me sane hahaahaLong story short It took me a year to get it together…then the most terrible thing happened. Dating got difficult for me, Its like I went back to the girl who was straight from high school who was nervous when she saw a boy…I had a lot of guy friends mind you, its just ..the dating part. Oh Lawd… I would fidget and stutter and talk without making sense, I was always very nervous…Once I was on a dinner date I dropped the whole plate of food on my dress with my butter fingers  and as I stood up to go get cleaned up I slipped and landed on a piano in the restaurant, I'm just lucky Mbeya restaurants never have big crowds..there were only 2 other people in the restaurant.  It was bad, I was grown woman and I was acting like a teenager..all nervous and fidgety, I wrote him a long message excusing myself and embarrassingly tried to slip out the kitchen door (damn waiter told on me)… he caught me at the parking lot trying to escape I was an inch close to running, luckily the man accepted my weirdness wholeheartedly and we went back inside to finish dinner ...hahaHeartbreak can totally change you..its tough out there when you wear your  heart on a sleeve. So be careful with people’s hearts…But the let me lighten up your heart by telling you  a little story about the one man I love unconditionally ….When I was young,  my father used to give me these tiny little pills whenever I was sick, he used to say they would make me feel better. So whenever I was sick and  from the hospital I would eat my meals take my meds and finish up with the magic pills he specifically got for me whenever I was sick, he used to say they treated everything and anything, this went on till I was 5 years old…until  about  when I was 8, I hadn’t been sick for a while and those pills used to taste so good. So I stayed home that day and played sick, I pulled his leg so he wont go to work I rolled on the floor and cried so hard the neighbors heard, trying to convince him I was sick and  I needed those magic pills, my mother saw right through me she didn’t even give me the time. But my father oh my, he carried me rubbed my tears and demanded they make me soup… felt my forehead and demanded my mother take me to the hospital ..’Oh no Dad I need the pills they will make me better again’ When he declined I started crying and complaining again..’my tummy, my head they hurt so bad, please give me the magic pills’ Gosh I cried so hard, and so he did, he went out to the nearest pharmacy (as he told me) and got the pills. When he got back he gave me one pill. I took it in and sprung up saying I felt  better already. I drank my soup and he asked me if I would be able to go to school tomorrow…I said yes. Whenever I played sick he without argument gave me 1 magic pill. Until I was old enough to forget about them. 10 years later, I was abroad for  college,  my first year, I was walking around in a supermarket and saw something Odd…It’s the pills! I screamed! The pills! I went to the counter paid for them and immediately started to chew em on them..bringing back memories of when I was young...but I was just so curious! What were the pills doing at a super market?? So I asked the lady at the counter..'what are these?'‘They’re  called Tic Tacs!’ She said  I took a picture and sent him an email ‘You knew?’  he called and laughed for 10 minutes straight!Is it too late for  fathers day story?...

When I was young My mother told me something I always practice, smile at people who smile at you, wave to people who wave at you, and if a kid at school gives you a snack, tomorrow give them a snack too.Reciprocate. Meet people half away .I worked in a small little media firm back when I was in college. My Colleagues were as young as me, some younger. We were writers, cartoonists, journalists, graphic designers, tech junkies… and we had a an awful boss (Sorry Mr. Kumar) he was quite temperamental that one, infact we had name for him, ‘The mask’ it seemed at one moment he was awful nice the next he was unrecognizable, he would take light mistakes to high dimensions ad crucify us, literally that is. We were all young, for some it was our first jobs we were terrified of him. When he used to walk in the office I would almost immediately start typing utter nonsense on my desktop, once I typed for 30 minutes straight while he was walking around the cubicles, unaware that the power had just gone off. What we didn’t understand back then was, this guy would try as hard as he could to provide us with anything we needed to get our jobs done in time, but we always hit him excuses and delays, we took things quite easily,…hey whats the rush? We always have tomorrow… oh dear this drove him insane, it took us a while to understand, we were not meeting him halfway.  He was giving us 70% and we were giving him 30.That’s the most terrible thing you could do to someone. Give them 30.I take it in everything I do, when someone entrusts you with something, give them their trusts worth. Reciprocate. Many of us are selfish, we believe we are receivers, in some sick twisted way we always want to be on the receiving end. Oh my darling, no one will give you that much if your not a giver yourself.  If you want anyone to ever give that much, you have to meet them halfwaySomeone once told me a story, about a man named Dave, he was a deeply religious man,  and was in financial trouble, he always prayed to his God to help him out "God, I'm about to lose my car. Please help me. Let me win the lottery." Lottery night comes, but sadly, Dave is not the winner. Things go from bad to worse. Without a car to get to work, Dave loses his job. Without a job, he couldn’t  pay rent, and he loses his home. Without a home, his wife leaves him, taking the kids. After each horrible step in the mounting crisis, he pleads with God to let him win the lottery, but he never does. Finally, broke, hungry, living on the street, he tries again. "God, please, my life is a wreck. I have no car, no home, no family. Please let me win the lottery just this once so that I can turn my life around. I beseech you."Suddenly, a flash of light rends the sky, and the voice of God echoes down from the heavens. "Dave, meet me halfway. Buy a ticket." So you see friends, we could all be Daves, but  we can get only as much as we give.  And it is quite a scary situation we put people in when we want receive but never want to give to them.Have you ever gone Bungee jumping? Its ridiculous. I don’t even know why people do those things such unAfrican hobbies, jumping from crazy heights held by some rubber ‘for fun’ , ha! Not me!  In 2008 one Durban man made a elastic bungee jumping cord from condoms only and jumped off a 100 ft tower, I know right, white people. Just when you think you seen it all. Sigh. Now imagine this,Your tied to this elactic cord looking down at a cliff and up is the sky, as your ready to jump fear kicks in but you know the cord will hold you, uncoil, so you jump, free falling ……you’re 2 feet from the ground, and you realize the cord isn’t elastic at all. You could die you know. And that’s what  it feels like.  When you don’t reciprocate.

When It was time for me to go to high school,  My parents spent an awful lot of time looking for good schools for me …we drove from Arusha to Moshi, Kibaha to Morogoro, Tanga to Bagamoyo. I did an awful lot of interviews. But I never got into any one of those ‘good gifted schools’ In my parents eyes I was smart and they, like every other African Parent, wanted their child in one of those ‘special’ schools one of those schools where kids speak in mathematics and dream in psychics.The schools my parents went to,  They, unlike me, refused to admit that I was average and ordinary. Oh Mom and Dad. We went from school to school…but the answer was always the same, she’s not tall enough, she’s too young, she’s not quick enough, she’s not fast enough, she’s not smart enough, she does not know enough mathematics, she doesn’t know enough Kiswahili, she’s just not enough! She’s not good enough for commerce, she’s not good enough for science, I heard it over and over…and those words can break you as a child, because…what was ‘enough’ Of course they never said it to my face, they would say it in whispers in the school corridors as they walked my parents around. And I was too curious to sit around and wait so I would follow them, and I would hear over and over those words ‘not enough’. And I always wondered ‘What is enough?’  I honestly don’t like special schools, they made the rest of us feel like we were some sort of idiots.. my life goal was to make special schools for average kids, like us. Kids who who got 3 in the first try when they did 1 + 1, yes we’re special too. And no not 'crazy' kinda special (Geeees relax a lil bit) I remember I went to a certain school in Arusha and did an interview, I was with my Mother only this time. And I thought I did pretty well, I did science subjects and the headmaster, pretty nice tall slim guy. He offered me juice after the interview and talked to me a little, unlike all the other schools I was  interviewed in. I really thought I was in, the kids there were lovely and I loved it, in fact I had already made friends and picked a dorm room, chose a spot to hang out and made peace with the school cooks. yes I was fast like that…all that in 3 hours only, if they gave me 2 more days I swear I would’ve been president…, you betcha I know how to mingle. Until well, I overheard the conversation he had with my mother ‘She cant get in, she’s way too behind in her syllabus she wont be able catch up’  Its like heaven was falling over me.I could see the devastation on my mothers face, the look in her eyes, her face dropped, I could see she was tired and it just broke me, I was tired of seeing her tired. So when he came to me to tell me how smart I was but there was no space I walked upto to him as he was leaving and pulled his coat. Pupils dilated you could almost pull a tear from my left eye. The words were sour in my chest and I felt a little pain in my chest as I uttered them…‘ I’ll catch up, I will work really hard, I will show you, I learn fast if you can teach me, please let me in, I promise you I will pass well, you will see I promise’ I remember saying words close to those, practically begging him.  My  heart was beating so fast vultures could hear it from ten miles away. This was my only shot. This man, in my eyes, held my destiny, I felt like I was letting my parents down one more time and I wanted to fix it.The smile on his face was gone and he was more serious now, He bent on one knee ( I was very short) to reach to my height and said right to my face, and I remember the sentence word by word….because they played in my head all through high school, all through university.‘ I cannot teach you what you don’t already Know’I stood there, I might have been young but I was not totally blank, what a way to tell a child that she was an idiot, I wasn’t gonna let him get away with it… ‘But I know more about Biology, Mathematics, Physics than I did in the test, I know more I can learn more’He said the last words  in a whisper almost had me in tears ‘ My Child, You don’t know enough’Those words rang in my head throughout my whole childhood. Before every exam I ever did throughout my whole life, and I promised myself I will never use that word on a child, and If you’re a parent, please do not.I stood there my eyes glared as my mother walked in, never lost her composure, bless her heart, smiled and talked a little with the headmaster and we left, off to board a bus  and walk on home. I could tell she was sad, But she never uttered a word of it, ever. We stayed for a while before she announced we had to do another interview, I was devastated, Do I really need to go to those special schools, I always asked them, Cant I just go to an ordinary school, But they would always remind me that those schools had better teachers and better classes and better education. Better education. So  weeks before I went to interview at this new school, I studied every book there was and did all past papers this country ever had, I wanted to know enough and because It was catholic school I read the bible too, page to page From the apple in garden of Eden to how we will burn in a certain river for our sins ..., you never know what enough meant down there. As soon as I arrived I was received by a nun who was the headmistress at the school, she was kind and patient with me she showed me the waiting room as she talked to my mother, and to my surprise, there was no interview test, there was no entrance exam. They just examine your old school’s results and you’re in, and my old school results were okay so I got in.I had so many questions for the headmistress.‘Aren’t you scared of children who don’t know enough messing up your perfect pass rate?’ I asked her as she held my hand to show me to the gate.  She looked at me almost in disbelief that this question was coming from a child‘What you know is an outcome of how much you’re willing to know’ The woman never spoke much. She said goodbye and I waved. I was just happy I finally got a school.When I finally went to that school, it wasn’t fancy, but the plus side was they had so much books and I was so glad, I read every single book there was, from history of roman empires to engineering books that were way beyond me. I read readers digests from 1930s and magazines from the 60s, all for my need to know ‘enough’. But that my friends is a quick history in my thirst and search for the feeling of ‘enough’… I kept reading, indulging obsessing over everything and anything but never quite got the hang of the real meaning of knowing enough.Fast forward my first year in college, I was sitting around with my 5 10 page assignments gazing outside into the trees daydreaming of getting married to a rich man with a house in 10 countries  with  butlers and maids delivering my breakfast from our other house in France because I like ‘french toast’ (don’t judge  me like that, every girl has had this dream at some point of difficulty in her life, every girl!) The professor said something that woke me, in Economics, She said a quote from Thomas Sowell she said  "The first lesson of economics is scarcity: there is never enough of anything to fully satisfy all those who want it" But  What is enough?  Enough for who? Last week I went to a graduation ceremony and met some wonderful children. They were pre form kids,.  they acted out a beautiful play and kept making errors in the dialogue I could tell their teacher was furious but the kids were so jolly …and  it was so hard not to laugh at their errors they were laughing tooo..we all laughed, and one of the kids was so nervous she ran outside and  hid. I asked their headmaster what criteria they use to advance them to Form 1 and he said none. We teach them all they need to know and advance them when we see they have passed well.‘What happens if they don’t pass,?’‘They keep studying until they do, eventually they do, we are patient’I nodded. Glad they never got turned down. There was no pressure, to be Enough. I met that ol headmaster last month he was older, white hair not young and built like the last time I saw him, we were undergoing training for a project we were doing and he was one of the trainers, he didn’t remember me, not that I expected him to, I Imagine he must have met at least a million children or more in his lifetime. In my heart I had hoped he would remember and see  how I had progressed and see who I grew into and became, but something told me it would not make a difference. So I just passed him by like I didn’t know him. When it was time for one on One  training he came to me and went through my work and was rather pleased. He called all the other trainers  and it became a long pleasant conversation, from history to science to community to economics to everything you could think of and I could not stop myself from talking on and on…my mind was saying stop but every thing the old man would say I would jump in with a word or two. It was a very bad habit, and I was ashamed later on. And as I was leaving he said in a whisper, almost in the same voice I had heard years ago. ‘ My child, you know a little too much for your age, where did you go to school? Did you study abroad?’‘In a little catholic school In some village you probably never heard of’‘You should’ve gone to our school’ he said as he looked around to his fellows ‘ we schooled professors, engineers, businessmen, in our time, perfect grades’‘ I would’ve, but back then I didn’t know enough….but thank you,’  I said, yes I was bitter and it was petty. It was 10 years ago maybe 12 and bringing it up wouldn’t make any difference but just a smirk of satisfaction as he looked somewhat puzzled. He probably never knew what I meant and will never understand what I meant, But it was better that way. So I kept it that way. Am I angry, That I got turned down so many times. Bloody yeah!! But I'm also happy because we have to realize we dont always need what we think we need to excel...we only need ourselves and our hunger to learn. We are enough for ourselves.

When I’m alone , I put on a British accent, cook and pretend I’m on the food channel. I call myself Jackie Oliver.  I’ve been secretly  filmed doing this twice by a friend in college, making noodles and eggs. She is still blackmailing me with those videos.

Today I’m gonna share with you a little convo I had with a random man I met at Mcdonalds....a small little tiny McDs  in Mumbai, just had a long day with friends and was getting food, I was tired to my toes and service was really slow…started my chain of complaining around my friends when a nice young Indian man walked up to me, this is just little of the conversation i remember but it felt so wonderful to talk in Swahili with another Tanzanian.... ‘Habari Gani Dada Yangu’ I was utterly shocked especially because he was Indian and his swahili was perfect‘Nzuri, mambo’‘Poa, unaishi huku Mumbai?’‘Hapana nimekuja kutembea tu, wewe Mtanzania? Unaishi Tanzania sehemu gain?’‘Upanga’‘Aaaaaah Upanga? Upanga ipi?’‘ Pale muhimbili geti la kutokea, opposite, kuna geti la bluu’‘Acha utani kuna rafiki yangu anaishi maeneo ya pale, anaitwa Kina’‘Kina Kina si yupo malaysia ? Nimesoma nae Tambaza,’‘ Basi Zamani nlikuwa nashinda kwao… Dah,small world bro’‘kwetu pale pale... Tibaigana anasemaje na mji wake’‘Haha saivi kuna Kova’‘Kweli inabidi nirudi mwaka huu, we unarudi lini?’‘Baada ya miezi 5 ivi’‘Me hata sijui labda mkimaliza Migao ya umeme ndo ntarudi’‘haha karibu maana nshachoka kukaa huku...saivi ningekuwa kwa bonge fastaa mstari wenyewe huu hauendi’'kwa bonge mikocheni? aise nimemiss kiepe balaa...american chips bado ipo''Waende wapi kaka''Dah chipsi zao balaa, anyway nice meeting u, hebu niende kuchukua order yangu''Likewise yani...stay safe' He turned around to leave , I stopped him ‘Wait!’  ‘How did you know I’m Tanzanian?’He smiled ‘I just know’ And that was it, I didn’t ask him his name or his number  and he didn’t ask mine. My Ghanian and Nigerian friends were just there watching me in amazement..’How did he know?’ I mean we were all African girls there…The Biggest Question, How do you know your Tanzanian? There many ways to know…but…Are you that Tanzanian who has these characteristics? 1. You call all dogs Bobby2. You call all Gas Stations ‘Sheli’3. You Peep at someone else’s text when they’re chatting (be it in a bus, party etc)4. 1- 2 hour late to all your meetings  always blame It on traffic 5. Your skinny, but you occupy the  whole sidewalk when you walk6. Talk too loud in  transport vessels…be it a bus, plane, train, you name it…especially when you’re on the phone7. Environmental cleanness is your least concern, anyplace is a dustbin to you, and when you’re consulted about throwing things around your usual response is ‘Kwani hii barabara ya babaako? Kwani Huu mtaro wa babaako?’ etc8. Very loud ringtones when you have a new/nice phone, especially so people can see you when you pick up your new phone9. You always answer a question with a question10. You go to the newspaper stand to read headlines not to buy papers , always ask for other people’s newspaper or often read other people’s newspapers in the bus/office …never buy ur own11. You could eat ‘Kiporo’ for breakfast, lunch, dinner12.  A party is not a party if there is no Pilau to a Tanzanian, You will curse out a party that has no pilau13. You’re Invited to a party alone, you go with 3 friends14. You go to Coco Beach on Christmas or Eid, even if you wont stay , you just have to pass by15. You must have new shoes to match your new clothes on Christmas or Eid, Easter..16. You blame everything on the Government, be it bad weather lack of rainfall or the heat17. You like to witness Danger, for instance, when Mbagala bombs went off, many Tanzanians died running towards the noise to see what was going on18. You talk in English at certain ‘Exclusive’ places19. You  talk in English when you spot a foreigner20. Wherever you go, your favorite meal is Chips Kuku, chicken chips.21. Travel out of Tanzania, for 3 months, come back to Tanzania with a foreign accent and claim to have forgotten Swahili22. You have the answers, to all the questions…Tanzanians never fail an answer23. You know more about other people’s country than they do, you’re even willing to argue about it with them23. You go to supermarkets to ‘explore’24. You have watched every Schwarzenegger and Van Damme movie as a child 25. You know all of Kanda Bongoman, Magic system, pepe kale, awilo longombas and Koffi Olomide songs by heart (especially Chamukwale/Ndombolo you even know the whole dance routine from their video) , but you dont even speak french 26. Goes out...without a single shilling, comes back home drunk27. However hard the economy is , however broke you are....you always have money for a beer 28. Somehow someway you claim you're mildly  related to the president (unaforce undugu) 29. You complain too much 30. You have a wild hunger to take a picture of the deceased at a funeral, so you can throw it on ur instagram/bbm/watsapp RIP so and so...so everyone can know you were there You like going to funerals of famous people Did i forget any other features?Which number are you?

Little streams gathering downhill to form a river and make way into the large vast ocean. Most people find peace with the ocean at the beach, I find peace with the rivers, flowing merrily downhill to one destination. When I was in high school I went to a school where, we could say the kids were better off.  Most were 13 and already had their own cars, chauffeured or drove… others were 16 and were being trained to run their family businesses and some were 12 and had properties in their names, accounts worth millions, wore real gold silver diamond jewelry to school and designer watches and bags...things they always talked about, their better off parents...Not that I was from a poor family, no we were average. Two cars, steak fish  and chicken once a week really means your doing pretty okay down here,  so I guess you could say we were good.I remember one friend of mine whose name shall not be mentioned I found sitting at the school cafeteria one morning. He was really sad. I sat next to him trying to get into his mind about what was bothering him, he seemed extremely distant…‘ My father says I have to go to Brussels next year, after high school, he has a company over there that he wants me to help him with it’ ‘So what makes you sad?’ ‘It involves a lot of traveling and running around, and I want to stay here with my friends’ You should’ve seen my face and his face. He looked like he had just been shot both legs twice and couldn’t walk and his eyes were crying for help while I looked like the gates of heaven had been opened and we had all been given a free pass to spend one day with Jesus and ask him random questions about ancient history and Adam and Eve ( Surely the apple wasn’t a paraphrase for sex, Jesus would know)  .Yes. The Contrast. Truly, Happiness is a state of mind.I used to think that to be happy, you need something….some money, some friends, some love, some benefits, some success…Boy was I wrong.Here I was talking to a 16 year old boy who already has a made out company to run and an opportunity to travel the world and he isn’t happy because he wont see his friends, you’d think that boy would be thrilled. He wasn’t. It wasn’t his happiness, his happiness depended on his friends…they made him happy, the object of his happiness was probably just having a good time…but let me not take a toll on him…we all just want to have fun when  we’re 16. There was a time when I passed through a really dark stage. I didn’t know what I wanted in life and I just wanted to be happy. I read thousand books went to psychiatrists…drank a little booze here and there wanting to catch the feeling, hung out a little more hoping these funny friends I had would bring me joy, went shopping for things  I probably didn’t need dated a  boy 3 years my junior because he had such a nice looking face I wanted to stare at him all day…surely this little guy would give me happiness…but in the end I’m in my bed at midnight and the feeling is not there. So I tried something new. I prayed. I sought happiness everywhere except within God.I found it eventually almost immediately. It was and still Is a good feeling.I read this quote once and never thought it made sense until now“Happiness is not determined by what’s happening around you, but rather what’s happening inside you. Most people depend on others to gain happiness, but the truth is, it always comes from within.”We choose to be happy. It us While I was chasing the emotion happiness I found out that most of my sadness was rooted by expectation.I expected love to complete me, I expected friends to have my back, I expected parents to plan out MY GOALS ( extremely ridiculous by the way, again, I was an extremely lazy child) I expected life to move on on its own without a push. I expected education to give me know how benefits and riches lined out on my doorstep . I expected way too much.I put myself in situations that brought me sadness, And I was a pessimist. No one else. No one makes us happy, nothing makes us happy but we and don’t ever depend on anyone for happiness, make peace within yourself and most importantly…..Find God, whatever God it is, whomever gives you peace when you meditate. I listen to people all the time who say they don’t believe in religion and I sigh. How can you not believe in religion and believe in God? So how do you talk to God? Because there can be gold across the lake, but you will never reach it if you don’t have a boat. Whatever religion it is, if it makes you heal when you’re wounded, stick to it. How we look at situations and accept them, believe in the brighter day and the silver lining.  That is what gives us joy.  No one will tell you how to be happy, you have to decide to be happy, stay positive.That little boy could either be happy that his future is bright and he gets the grand opportunity of doing so much at his age and exploring the world or be sad that he wont get to see his friends.Your only choice is to choose what you will embrace. When you discover that, you will understand that happiness is only a state of mind…its not a destination, or a road. Its all in our mind. Change your mind state …note down every little thing that makes you happy everyday and you will be happy. Everyday. I hope these next happiness tips get you there. BE HAPPY Im  probably too young to be writing how to be happy books but hey these lil tips can help you find your way I hope.Know when to let go of anything  or anyone that makes you sad. Inspire Your Atmosphere Enjoy Being You Know Your Weakest and Strongest Links Practise your Religion. Great Faith= Great FreedomCount Your BlessingsLook for the  Good NewsChoose to be happy Positive Communication, be good with your words they define your thinkingFind a way to  Create Happiness  where you find noneFigure out your priorities  Don't let Others Tell You What Will Make you Happy       Stay around the right company.Don't keep in your life, any one who brings You Down  Don't Bring Others Down Think Well of Everyone. Have no ExpectationsGiveTake Challenge as a game, and you will win, if not now, later.  Do not punish You. Forgive yourself.Do not follow your heart. Follow logic. Often emotions lead us astrayThink Positive. Always. Look at the bigger picture, there is perfection in imperfection. And lastly. Your mind...Your situations...your happiness. Its in you. You choose.

I was in a little village in a  district called Mbarali in mbeya last year in August,.. me and my team of journalists were doing a water research project and I wanted to see the actual situation we were dealing with because I mighty hate sitting around behind the desk and getting feedback reports, I like to go to the field, mingle a little. Meet the DC, tell him I wanna be president someday…watch him roll his eyes glow as he thinks ‘Stupid kid’ smile and wave …Go to the schools see the children, put on a little music dance around with them and take pictures. Funny enough the team was so accustomed to calling me Jack and not Jackie...so the first time they went over there and informed them that the live debate would be monitored by Jack  the project manager, they figured Jack had a beard, There was no time to mention that Jack had boobs and painted her nails in weird shades of blue and orange and sometimes only sometimes, she clipped her own eye brows(extremely brave), not that It would make a difference everyone thought.The village chairman arranged all their people who were representing the various villages from different wards for the live debate to be aired on the radio, they expected a tall firm serious man with a mustache and a little goatee. The look on their faces as I got out the car, a short girl with bouncy hair and little beady lawyer eyes, one village chief couldn’t hold it in anymore and had to ask ‘we thought Jack was a man, ’‘Funny’ I replied ‘ I hear when I was born my mother told me the same thing, history has to stop repeating itself like this’   roar of laughter then back to work interviewing villagers and water engineers, children, women, teenagers…till lunch hour and I was starving  …I walked into 3 restaurants where they all didn’t have food. The first one said ;Lunch hour was 2 there so they didn’t start cooking till 1, the second said the cook was at the village meeting which we had just come from, the third one was the most annoying, ‘You want food? At this  hour?’  I scowled at  the restaurant owner for a minute ‘No of course we don’t want food, we were exploring your beautiful restaurant, admiring it and wondering If we could sit here for a while and chew on your carpets’ sadly she didn’t follow through on my sarcasm and proceeded to tell the whole village that the little girl who came with those journalists asked to eat my carpets. (Rather complicated explaining that to the village chairman by the way)We managed to get food at restaurant number 4…where we sat down with a couple of interesting young men, they made handmade generators that run for 2 -3 hours only but sadly they were forced to stop making them by the district because they had been told those generators were ‘harmful’, they looked somewhere between 15 and 19, nothing over. I looked up at them and said hello and we exchanged greetings in their language (I picked up some of their language greetings, comes with the interviewing). I asked them if they were at the meeting and they said no. I asked them why they said they didn’t think their views can help and they were ‘busy’ trying to make these generators less harmful, So I being inquisitive, asked them why they thought they views wouldn't matter, a sad response followed through‘We haven’t had water in this village since independence, we have never seen taps, the wells we use were built by Danida in 1989, we have seen people like you come here ask questions, act shocked build hope in our mothers eyes and then after a couple of months, you leave’I had no come back line, nothing smart or funny to say, I just sat there trying to stomach what I just heard, It took me a while to digest it, especially the statement ‘Hatujawahi ona maji ya bomba toka uhuru hapa’Long story short by the time our research was over the little village in Mawindi was in the water budget for 2014, now we have to follow through and make sure by late April to these guys see tapped water this year for the first time since independence and yet till date that statement bothers me and haunts me. What do you worry about when you wake up in the morning?Mine,in perfect order respectively…every morningI worry about my hair, my nails my teeth, my toes, should I match my toe nail polish to my fingers? (Toughest decision of the day)  What color should I wear? Will this skirt show panty lines? Am I gaining weight on my derriere? Has my derriere even grown? Why is it not growing? But Do you ask yourself relevant futuristic questions? Do you have answers for them? What are you doing everyday with your 24 hours and will it matter in 5 years?And are you doing  the most important thing you can do right now?If the answer to of all those questions is no…then whatever you’re doing is probably the epitome of irrelevance Figure out your priorities and establish your goals ….some kids out there in some village that doesn’t even have electricity are making generators and they haven’t even seen tap water since independence, they’re not on their bums complaining… What are you doing ?

Part of my job is meeting a lot of new people. With Different personalities, they come en masse, From wise ones, to pervs to the extremely smart, the extremely ordinary, to the totally ridiculous ones and of course the cuckoo crazy ones.So I’m accustomed to blending in, no matter the crowd. Never getting angry  or taking stuff personally neither challenging opinions of people I will only meet once or twice. But One thing I do love is making fun of situations that really get to me. Just so I can laugh about it when I think about it.Two weeks ago, I think I met, the most arrogant woman in the whole wide world.She challenged almost every single thing I said, told Me I was too young and didn't understand 1 thing about business, at one point she said in my face ‘I don’t understand how you can be so beautiful and so vacuous, please explain this to me, this cannot be God’s doing’ This woman was cocky beyond measure. It was a small conference where we met and I was sitting adjacent to her when she said hello, introduced ourselves and the conference began. Everyone spoke, and when I spoke. God, hell broke loose and the devil came running out…she corrected my grammar, my speech, my dressing, my shoes, my concept, my hair, I hid my notes from her in fear she would make me feel worse about my handwriting( It is indeed, seriously terrible, I remember writing notes in college and not being able to read them later on)… but it didn't end there she went on to tell me that I had funny shape for a thin woman. And I smiled. The whole time. I didn't switch seats or ask to be pardoned or take a shot at her. I just took it, I sat there and took it, and I didn't even know this woman, we had just met, two people, two different companies adjacent seats. We had just met and she was critical on almost everything I and everyone else at the conference did!Have you ever met a person like this? Does this situation sound familiar?I’ve met lots of people like this, and one thing I learned is.Fear.People like these have low self esteem, and are swallowed by fear. Fear of being less than the person they are criticizing, hence try to draw the attention back to them by bringing down the other person.These people have failed to master and control their mind, emotions…and are now being run by their emotional body, emotions that are bruised with inferiority   We see people like this everyday, on the Internet, at work…Sometimes we’re that person too subconsciously, I know I was that person at one point, but once you’re satisfied with your life you no longer have that fear to attack people constantly, because you feel that you are enough and don’t need to draw back attention to you. Some people will use mistakes you made to try and bring you to tears, make you feel terrible about yourself.Because that person failed to achieve what they feel you have so they will do whatever to move the battle field to another place where they can win an easy point. I knew a girl who was like this when I was in school, she made me feel terrible about myself, a bully, you could say. Overly confident, She would say mean and terrible things about me and made everyone hate me. She would tell the sisters (it was a catholic school) that I was pagan, tell my class teachers I talked ill of them, now most of them were from the village as well and felt I was considering myself more special, some teachers marked my papers terribly, I got many F's, others would call me and advise me to be ‘humble’ but I didn't know what was going on. She did an awful lot of emotional torture. But I never retaliated. Not once. ( not because of wisdom do not fooled, she was way taller than me and two times my size)I just smiled and moved along.Until once they called her a witch (Honestly sometimes I thought she was) it was a school deep in the village and they still  believed in the sort, they kicked her out of the her dormitory to sleep in the hallway, I found her crying and led her to my dorm room. It was really cold for someone to sleep in the hallway, she wasn't even shocked at my behavior, not an ounce of remorse …neither did she thank me when I showed her my bed for  her to sleep in as I bunked in with someone else. She acted like she deserved it, like it was her right, like I owed her that. And the next morning she went on her daily routine, making fun of me and spreading dirty rumors about me, now all the other girls were mad, I mean Jackie let her sleep in her own bed and this morning she’s already back to her old behaviors…. They proceeded to kick ‘the witch’ out of the table she was sharing with them . And she came to mine. Shock value. She sat there silent for almost a minute and started crying. I didn’t know what to say. I never know what to say when people start crying, my 6 month old niece who I shared a room with would wake up in the middle of night crying, I would cry with her, she’d be so amused that she would shut up and start watching me with this look of disgust on her face like ‘you attention freak’. The only words that escaped my lips were‘What are you scared of?’‘Certainly not you’ She looked at me like I had just beat her up and made a whole speech about ‘people like you’  It was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard.She kept on saying how she was a young girl from the village who sees no opportunities and no place to go after high school, that she could never accomplish anything or do anything with her life after high school  she even stated that she could never even just get married after high school like all the other girls and have babies because she felt she wasn't ‘pretty enough’, and ‘people like us’ from Dar Es Salaam go there with our dreams, future plans, parents who are supporting us. There were about 40 Dar Es Salaam kids in the whole school of 800. The rest were from other regions of Tanzania and Morogoro itself. Being a Dar es salaam kid was a big deal for some reason…and it also made you the subject of scrutiny when you fail to live up to their way of life. Funny enough I did what everyone else did, to my surprise that made it even worse.It took me a short while to understand she was just a young girl like me who  for some reason felt threatened, I to her represented the whole Dar Es Salaam kids population whom she despised because she felt she could never achieve what we could being a ‘village kid’ that she didn’t have much opportunities after high school unlike we, she then proceeded to ‘bring me down’ in any way she could because she felt she was down and everyone must go down with her.I was not sympathetic, I did not tell her she could do anything she wanted to do, I certainly didn’t tell her to dare to dream or open her eyes and have faith. And I didn't tell her that she could be anything she wanted to be if she put her mind to it.I was cold blooded honest… ‘I don’t like you, I never have. But Now that you've told me your story, I hate you even more, you’re pathetic, for your stupid self pity and how you not only diminish other people’s potentials, but also your own’ I stood up and walked away. We never talked again. Until I left that school, we never even looked each other in the eye, she disgusted me. But last time I skyped her she was in Berlin pursuing her Masters in Architecture, married with kids and running her own 1 year old Design company. If you’re reading this, I hate you even more Flora, you overly ambitious show off. So after the conference during lunch break I sat with the same woman who was criticizing me, and criticizing everyone, no one sat with her she was like toxic, and as I proceeded to her table everyone looked at me like I was committing suicide.  She looked surprised and asked me why I sat with her, why I didn't pick another table like everyone one else who walked on by‘I've met people like you,You don't scare me’ I said. And silently ate my lunch.   The sad fact is even grown ups bully. And you will  meet people who are overly critical, ego maniacs,drive you crazy Remember...Inside every egotistic, overly critical person is an insecure little girl or boy. Do not retaliate, foster their potential.

I have 3 trophies in my house, 3. One for a cooking contest won back in high school another  Best Science student trophy and a  recent one from poetry challenge.3, its not much but they say 3 is a magic number, that everything that comes in 3s is perfect…its  a latin phrase "omne trium perfectum" everything that comes in threes is perfect Yes, 3 is a magic number…But I got involved  with more than 3 contests or competitions…so much competitions, challenges and contests…writing, essays, running, gymnastics, swimming, spelling you name it… I’m front row losing.I think I participated in almost 30 Competitions if not more in Primary school only. Never won once! Now you woulda thought that would break ol girl’s heart but noooo…. At one point I took a seat and said I’ve had it I’ve never won anything, ever…but The losing…built me. It made me Goddamn funny too, by high school I had at least 10 break the ice lines for whenever I lost ..my favorite was‘Oh I forgot to pay them again’…I was focusing more on winning than on the competition.I tried harder every single  time. I would go back try fix my little mistakes and yes I’d cry a little, okay… a lot I never handled losing very well, as  a child I was extremely  competitive. Sports day in st.marys there were 4 teams red house blue house yellow house and green house, I was in  red house and was up for the running challenge, 1000 meters at the national stadium , long story short I lost, coming out 4th from a race of 8 wasn’t much of an achievement, I got so sick I stayed home for a week. Yes, I was that competitive, my face could not be seen at school again, I had failed the challenge…and the next sports day I was up and running, I was 8 this time….sick again. Of course the teachers would use their ‘never give up’ lines with me all the time, encouraging me and amazed at my effort of never backing down even after finishing last…but they eventually got tired of the little runner who couldn’t run and got sick when she lost, one class teacher broke it down to me ‘Kid, you cant run’I got good at concentrating, questioning myself, my weaknesses, my strengths, because for every damn time I lost I would go back and try see where I went wrong reassess myself while the winners were parading their trophies Anyone who has ever lost will tell u, there’s a magic in losing, it builds ur stamina, ur drive at one point you'r almost more ambitious, you have more to prove than the winner.Because a winner is most vulnerable right after finding out that they won Bruce Lee once said ( I heard this in a movie)  -that to truly succeed you need to learn ‘the art of dying’ which I think means you can only understand the route to success if you understand  the route to failure Losing is the best thing that can happen to you. Awards trophies are all nice, but do they really inspire you to succeed more than that kick to the ground? You're never too big to lose, when I was younger I never really understood how someone could work so hard and still lose, this was why I always cried. Everyone is so scared of losing that winning has become taboo.I went to school with a little self named baby genius, he was a cocky one…failure was not an option. I played chess with him once  he let me win coz he thought I was wasting his time and he was hungry.. boy oh boy was I angry.‘Do you really think I’m that incapable of beating you that you let me win’ I felt insulted‘hey im just hungry and this is taking forever’ he saysLong story short I bought him a sandwich and we played for 2 more hours, I won.In exams he would cheat if he thought he was going to fail. And his cheating got worse too, I heard he got go expelled from his college for cheating, has the need to win got that vast that we have forgotten all about the competition? A psychology professor from Stanford University once said that kids respond positively to praise they enjoy it. But they collapse at the first experience of difficulty. Demoralized by their failure, they say they’d rather cheat than risk failing again.I was going to try cheating once, in college, it was a tough paper, me and study group decided…we’re not going to make it, so we did the unthinkable…we made a little mini sized book of all the possible questions and their answers…and some stupid fellow said Jackie should be the one to walk in with it, don’t let my bluff fool you…I am more chicken than the chicken itself…I talked my way out of it and my friend decided she would take it in…she’d done it before so she was confident…but I talked my way out of it because well, it wouldn’t feel like such a success if I passed the paper from cheating, my ego would never let me win, so i decided, heck...I'm flunking this paperWe walked into the exam room…and right before the question papers were handed  the mini sized book fell…right in the middle of row…the professor walked by  picked it up…asked  the owner to step forward or he would mark the whole row zero. Silence. He asked twice, silence.‘Very well’ he said walking out with the answer sheets of the whole row…she was going to stand but then I did. I took one for the team…I think they called me Jesus the whole semester. I stood because, she had been caught cheating in about 4 cases and a 5th would mean her whole semester results would be canceled, and then here was me with a clean record, the good girl, the girl no professor would believe was capable of cheating,long story short I blamed it on the devil and talked my way out of it. 10 marks canceled off my coursework (that’s quite a lot) We’re all  afraid to lose, and we’re afraid to lose because we feel the world would see us inadequate, sure if we lost in secrecy no one would mind, a little shattered egos here and there that could be fixed with wine but the public eye is poison, to our souls and to our minds. There’s nothing quite as terrible as the fear of failure. Conquer that fear. Accepting failure and allowing it  to be our learning point, builds us We often forget that losing gives us an ability to overcome our setbacks. So next time u lose, sit back relax and better yourself, For u.Meanwhile this whole article is a result of losing a recent ‘thou shalt not be named’ trophy and Yes I am still crying about it, however I now realize that the world still moves and life is not all about a trophy awarded to you by a certain group of individuals who wear nice suits and speak 5 languages and smell really sexy, phooey----Sad I already reserved a corner for it in my bathroom. (the toughest decisions go down in there in the tub, from 'who should we vote for, what am I doing with my life and will mother approve of this man?'…so I reserve a lot of space for things that inspire me to keep me focused) PS; Losers have the best speeches don’t we?...

Today I’m gonna share with you a little convo I had with a random man I met at Mcdonalds....a small little tiny McDs  in Mumbai, just had a long day with friends and was getting food, I was tired to my toes and service was really slow…started my chain of complaining around my friends when a nice young Indian man walked up to me, this is just little of the conversation i remember but it felt so wonderful to talk in Swahili with another Tanzanian.... ‘Habari Gani Dada Yangu’ I was utterly shocked especially because he was Indian and his swahili was perfect‘Nzuri, mambo’‘Poa, unaishi huku Mumbai?’‘Hapana nimekuja kutembea tu, wewe Mtanzania? Unaishi Tanzania sehemu gain?’‘Upanga’‘Aaaaaah Upanga? Upanga ipi?’‘ Pale muhimbili geti la kutokea, opposite, kuna geti la bluu’‘Acha utani kuna rafiki yangu anaishi maeneo ya pale, anaitwa Kina’‘Kina Kina si yupo malaysia ? Nimesoma nae Tambaza,’‘ Basi Zamani nlikuwa nashinda kwao… Dah,small world bro’‘kwetu pale pale... Tibaigana anasemaje na mji wake’‘Haha saivi kuna Kova’‘Kweli inabidi nirudi mwaka huu, we unarudi lini?’‘Baada ya miezi 5 ivi’‘Me hata sijui labda mkimaliza Migao ya umeme ndo ntarudi’‘haha karibu maana nshachoka kukaa huku...saivi ningekuwa kwa bonge fastaa mstari wenyewe huu hauendi’'kwa bonge mikocheni? aise nimemiss kiepe balaa...american chips bado ipo''Waende wapi kaka''Dah chipsi zao balaa, anyway nice meeting u, hebu niende kuchukua order yangu''Likewise yani...stay safe' He turned around to leave , I stopped him ‘Wait!’  ‘How did you know I’m Tanzanian?’He smiled ‘I just know’ And that was it, I didn’t ask him his name or his number  and he didn’t ask mine. My Ghanian and Nigerian friends were just there watching me in amazement..’How did he know?’ I mean we were all African girls there…The Biggest Question, How do you know your Tanzanian? There many ways to know…but…Are you that Tanzanian who has these characteristics? 1. You call all dogs Bobby2. You call all Gas Stations ‘Sheli’3. You Peep at someone else’s text when they’re chatting (be it in a bus, party etc)4. 1- 2 hour late to all your meetings  always blame It on traffic 5. Your skinny, but you occupy the  whole sidewalk when you walk6. Talk too loud in  transport vessels…be it a bus, plane, train, you name it…especially when you’re on the phone7. Environmental cleanness is your least concern, anyplace is a dustbin to you, and when you’re consulted about throwing things around your usual response is ‘Kwani hii barabara ya babaako? Kwani Huu mtaro wa babaako?’ etc8. Very loud ringtones when you have a new/nice phone, especially so people can see you when you pick up your new phone9. You always answer a question with a question10. You go to the newspaper stand to read headlines not to buy papers , always ask for other people’s newspaper or often read other people’s newspapers in the bus/office …never buy ur own11. You could eat ‘Kiporo’ for breakfast, lunch, dinner12.  A party is not a party if there is no Pilau to a Tanzanian, You will curse out a party that has no pilau13. You’re Invited to a party alone, you go with 3 friends14. You go to Coco Beach on Christmas or Eid, even if you wont stay , you just have to pass by15. You must have new shoes to match your new clothes on Christmas or Eid, Easter..16. You blame everything on the Government, be it bad weather lack of rainfall or the heat17. You like to witness Danger, for instance, when Mbagala bombs went off, many Tanzanians died running towards the noise to see what was going on18. You talk in English at certain ‘Exclusive’ places19. You  talk in English when you spot a foreigner20. Wherever you go, your favorite meal is Chips Kuku, chicken chips.21. Travel out of Tanzania, for 3 months, come back to Tanzania with a foreign accent and claim to have forgotten Swahili22. You have the answers, to all the questions…Tanzanians never fail an answer23. You know more about other people’s country than they do, you’re even willing to argue about it with them23. You go to supermarkets to ‘explore’24. You have watched every Schwarzenegger and Van Damme movie as a child 25. You know all of Kanda Bongoman, Magic system, pepe kale, awilo longombas and Koffi Olomide songs by heart (especially Chamukwale/Ndombolo you even know the whole dance routine from their video) , but you dont even speak french 26. Goes out...without a single shilling, comes back home drunk27. However hard the economy is , however broke you are....you always have money for a beer 28. Somehow someway you claim you're mildly  related to the president (unaforce undugu) 29. You complain too much 30. You have a wild hunger to take a picture of the deceased at a funeral, so you can throw it on ur instagram/bbm/watsapp RIP so and so...so everyone can know you were there You like going to funerals of famous people Did i forget any other features?Which number are you?

Somewhere in Mbeya I was in our little village in mountains on the southern highlands of Tanzania.Walking around I knew each corner of the village so well you would’ve sworn I discovered it in a Christopher Columbus sort of way.On the morning of our arrival my grandmother did what she always did when we arrived, chicken was roasted goats were killed, ducks were broiled, MEAT FEAST! Every now and then I would walk around the village looking for friends from my childhood who I remembered from my earlier yearly visits, we'd say our hellos and goodbyes and I would be off on my journey discovering yet newer corners and greeting all the elderly neighbors, They’d ask me  to remind them my name  I’d tell them Ekela (My village name) and they’d smile and tell me ‘ but you were so short’ and I’d smile back ‘Growth is only inevitable’, kneeling with every greeting, a sign of respect in our village, my grandmother used to tell me when I was younger in our tribe if you don’t kneel when you greet  your elders you grow horns when you sleep, so now I’m older but believe it or not I cant quit the habit, the story stuck in my subconscious. They’d ask me questions of the city and I would joyfully reply with a smile of course, not smiling while talking to elders was sign of disrespect, unless of course you’re being scolded, only then you can wear a shame face.And that was daily village routine, wake and wander, discover. Until  today where i stayed home,Close to the kitchen where my grandmother cooked where we all sat and shared our merry as  grandmother would prepare another meat feast, it was just a day before Christmas and everyone was busy…1PM..until something happened…. The grounds started moving,  shaking vigorously everything seemed to be vibrating. The trees, the house, everything was shaking! I looked around and  there was my grandmother, laying on the floor …she told me to do the same but I couldn’t hear her out, thousand things went through my mind, what is this? Whats going on?Then it dawned on me…Its DOOMSDAY! My life flashed before my eyes, this is it  I said to myself, This is how I die, I will not grow and become a president, I haven’t shaken Desmond Tutu’s hand or Mandela or the pope, I feel so unachieved …I die a 14 year old…What a uneventful life I have had, I thought to myself, in this manner? I said a little prayer and a little tear went down my cheek I was oblivious to all around me, until my grandmother who had now realized I was saying my last prayer screamed ‘ Its an earthquake!!’Alas an earthquake! Its not the end! Now this was my first earthquake and surely I had no idea how they were like, I saw the light…all those geography lessons on earthquakes started to kick in and hope returned. This is not the end, we shall meet Mandela, I mumbled …I was beginning to get to safety when I noticed one of the neighbour’s children stuck under a tree, the tree was going to fall anytime soon and she had no way out. This was my moment, my uneventful 14 year old life is about to change I said to myself, my way out, I shall save this child and then I shall become his own personal Jesus, The village shall sing my name, they’ll make paintings and posters, my grandmother shall be praised, they shall name me chief…the elders will love me so much they shall ask me to run for MP…I shall run I shall win! Then  I’ll be a minister, in 10 years I’ll be president! This is how it begins! We shall shake hands with Mandela!  The picture was perfect, that's what we call a plan! I crawled in direction of the tree blind to the falling branches around me, hey, I was a determined 14 year old who wanted to be president, until the bubble burst…My grandmother pulled me back…all the fear and sudden courage  and ambition to become president made me numb to my own pain, my left leg was bruised, how? with what? I had no idea.I made it clear to my grandmother I was going to save the kid under the tree‘No’ she said‘What?’ I thought, ‘What a selfish woman, I am going to save a life and she is holding me back because of a bruise’‘You cant save anyone when you yourself need help,’And all the talking and holding me back made the earthquake stop, and another kid went to rescue the kid under the tree…now she’ll be president, and I wont meet mandela ‘dream stealer’ I thought. Those words ring in my head till date, I hadn’t noticed but I was very badly bruised, and the kid I wanted to save was a long distance away and the more I crawled the more my bruise got worse. But the greater the pain the greater the lesson, the harder to forget.Put yourself first. I will never forget that.That’s the first time I ran into that quote…the second time I was on a small bumpy aircraft where stewardess thought it was funny to talk about air crash investigation mysteries, I filed a complaint about her just incase you were wondering. I don’t care how pretty she was you don’t talk to someone about that on a plane, much less, a very small bumpy cheap one...while we were talking she proceeded to tell me her excellent life saving skills incase ‘anything happened’ which included  the art of wearing an oxygen mask. I could guess she was new on the job since she was all giggly about the very handsome pilot and it being his first flight as well ( I filed a complaint twice by the way, with different names this woman was begging for it!)And  that was when she said ‘always put your oxygen mask on first, even if you’re sitting next to kid’What a selfish bitch I thought ‘ What if the kid cant put it on?’Then you might die trying to help the kid, you’ll have no oxygen, you cant help someone when you yourself need help. You need only 2 minutes of no oxygen for your brain to react realize there is no oxygen 2 more minutes and the brain cells stop working, it will take you 50 seconds to put your oxygen mask on and 40 more to help  the kid, it will take you more than 3 minutes to help the kid alone because you will be panicked.And it dawned on me.Its not selfish, Its just only logical.Be your own first priority.Because lets face it . If you don’t attend to that yourself to ensure  you’re healthy mentally  physically emotional socially and spiritually, there’s not much you can do for others. So today I’m asking you to save yourself first, see where you need help and be selfish today…You can’t save the world when you’re dying.  Put on the oxygen mask, stop trying to be president.Stop worrying about the world today and worry about yourself, are you where you want to be? Are you safe? Do you need help? Do you have any wounds? Attend to them first, there’s not much a pot can give when its broken.The minute you start putting your needs behind, and others first your body will make sure you pay the handsome price.  I don’t care what they say about being a hero, even Superman couldn’t fly wounded.

Ever since I started driving I've had this recurring nightmare that has me sweating and pantingand waking up in the middle of the night screaming, It goes something like this... Im in a gatheringits some sort of celebration everyone is hyped and it seems like a really big wedding or avery big event because there are lots of people, its packed and  everyone is laughing and cheering until the MC stops whatever he was saying, one man walks up to him and whispers in his ears...there is silence.. he nods and looks around  and says the words that get me shaking 'Mwenye Gari Namba TBlaBlaBla CFF, Tunaomba ukaangalie Gari Lako Limegongwa vibaya sana, Taa Vioo vyote Vimepasuka yani halitamaniki tunakushauri ununue lingine, Nani kakwambia upaki kwenye kona?' I proceed to walk amongst the crowd with my head down and they all make space for me whispering and pointing fingers 'I heard she doesnt even have a  license' one whispers as I pass by. I wake up. Screaming Now I wouldnt say Im the best driver, I'm okay, everyone gets where they're going safe but its theparking in Dar that's really a challenge. I have been caught so many times by the cops I think some know my middle and last name from holding onto my license till kingdome come, I went to Kariakoo once and parked infront of the police station, Yes I am dumb. You can say it out loud, everyone else did...so this chummy cop walks up to me, tells me the fine for parking right infront of Police Station and I'm a good girl, I never argue with the cops unless I'm really broke (thats When I start to know my rights) i just pull out mywallet and he goes 'leo tumewashika madada wasio na adabu, fine ni elfu 30 ila faini bila risit ni15,000 tshs Upo tayari kulipa faini bila risiti?'  Now of course I went for the cheaper option,not knowing faini bila risiti actually meant that it was a bribe ( I found this out a week later, Im a bitslow with hidden meanings) So I pay the fine and walk off and since then parking has always been a nightmare for me....anywhere I go..Yesterday It happened to me...the nightmare came true, I was at a funeral around the neighbourhoodand I went to the mass, the church was crammed and parking was crazy, so I said hey let me justpark right here and get in real quick. Not knowing I had parked right infront of the exit. It wasquite a small door compared the entrance so I hadnt seen it all, But I had that 'Mmmmhhhh Iwonder why no one parked here its so spacious' moment and at the end of the mass its was dejavu...The man walked up to pastor like in my dream, he stopped preaching and looked around and Alas... 'Mwenye Gari namba T Bla Bla Bla CFF tafadhali tunakuomba usogeze gari lako you have completely blocked the exit...you idiot' The last words I swear I heard him mumble under his breath. So I stand up..andscene replays itself...they all stop to stare at the idiot who parked at the exit...nasty looksall over. Some even nodded their heads in dissapointment. I walk on with my head down till I'm outof the church and in my used but in good condition Japanese heaven in a bag of biscuits car,proceed to move it and there it is..I see the exit sign..in tiny little letters somewhere hidden in thebushes. I sigh, proceed to the move the used but in good condition car and dread to get back in the church, But I have to, everyone is waiting for the idiot to walk back in so they can examine her once more, maybe they know her from somewhere, anywhere so they can explain her peculiar behavior , whose relative is this? Why is she even at this funeral, could we be related to the idiot? Questions Questions they all ask themselves I see on their faces as she, the idiot, walks back in, she sits and then she says a little prayer 'God,save me from this humiliation, Bless me with a helicopter'

Nothing I love better than response advertising, months ago…Colgate had to shut down a promotional stall at London’s Waterloo “BrushSwap” promotion which gave costumers a chance to switch  old electric toothbrushes to new ones worth £170, there was such a large turnout that the crowd numbers forced the staff to close the stall due  to limited supply of the products mentioned in the offer. Some costumers had even arrived at the stall London Waterloo as early as 5am to claim their free toothbrushes! Imagine that! Well their rival Philips’ Sonicare toothbrush brand quickly thought up a way to poke fun at the failed giveaway attempt and deployed creative agency Ogilvy and media agency Carat to create a teasing ad campaign with the strapline below And that’s the headlines on my babble today. They say you don’t realize how hilarious your upbringing was until you’re an adult, and looking back at all the things my parents made me believe when I was young they were pretty funny and creative…and so serious at it. Havent our parents all told us things when we were young… like, you melt when you walk in the rain, there’s a little man in the fridge who turns off the lights( wasted half my childhood looking for this man), cars have little people under them who carry them and run when your father puts the key in the ignition. The chain is endless…its things people tell us when we’re young and don’t expect us to believe them as we grow…we’re supposed to grow and discover the sad truth that There was  never any Santa Clause, am not sure about other African households but my parents refused to let the credit of Christmas presents go to an old white man they didn’t know, they made it very clear from the beginning they bought the gifts especially for us and the name tags were very specific. Love, Dad and mom. We indeed knew for a long time this strange man we saw in movies did not exist…unlike the other children.   We’re supposed to grow and discover that babies do not come from flying birds and you don’t get pregnant by spending too much time talking to boys, this one was from my darling mother oh that lovely woman knew how to scare me, 'spend too much time with boys my dear, and boom you're pregnant' she knew exactly how I would interpret it, and it  worked for about 10 years, I was quite naïve and internet was really rare..conversations with boys were short and general in fear of a bulging belly if I spent 1 hour in a male’s company. I have to admit, I was a stupid one.  Then that’s it you see…you grow and realize that all these things were just things people tell children to guard their innocence Then again I feel some of us are children still, holding on to things we shouldn’t, still. Not discovering that the things they told us were just, things they told children.The best things are free.I don’t know what ‘best things’ means to youBut me you see, Im not a fancy gal. Im actually quite simple oh yes, I like the little things in life. Little things, yes, that’s me.A little yatch, a little plane, a little giant house in the mountains, with a little golf course in the back yard and a little swimming pool with a tinny little sport cars parked in the front…yes, little things.  So best things for me is little things, but even these little things aren’t free. So what does ‘best things’ mean to youMany would say, air health happiness, the target of lazy thinkers. But I love to call them ‘important things’ surely important, for us to live and the like. But even these important things, water, air, land ..are they free? they are not really free for us we’re paying the price of preserving them.  Paying the price for them all.But what’s your ‘BEST THING!’Your dream! Your wildest desire! That thing the child in you always craved, what is it? Is it Free?Even if you’re gonna go the hypocrite route and say ‘a good healthy environment’ its not free, a lot of work has to be put into it to be good and healthy. My definition of free is without any sort of cost and sort of payment howsoever…love health friendship think about if…are they really free? if you water your garden and you pay for the water the garden is not free if you have a house with a lovely view then you bought that view when you bought the house…If your travelling cross country and admiring the sights the cost of it is the t price of your fuel/ticket, my definition of ‘not free’ is anything you have to pay for directly or indirectly is not free…which makes me think…well we pay indirectly for almost everything in this world! Do you see where Im getting at ‘ Nothing is FREE’ Call the press! Release your findings! They’ve been brainwashing us all alongAnd some of us are so brainwashed we think we’re entitled to all the best things…For Free.Now don’t think im equating everything to money value …cost may equal time, effort…They were striking once at a school I went, call me a traitor but I was never one for trouble of the sort, and the president of the campus walks upto me and asks ‘so why aren’t you striking Princessa? (this was the beginning of the la princessa name era where everyone thought the ‘la’ was stupid) Now I was quite tiny at the time and the president or head girl was quite tall and there I was with my little 'shamba dress' in the middle of a grass field lying on my back as my peers were striking for God Knows what, you could almost see the gulp in my throat when I gave my cheeky response  as the tall cross faced individual stood right infront of me ‘That’s Way too much work for free’ cause in my head I thought why hand free effort to a cause that didn’t make sense or benefit me or the immediate environment anyhow, no one hands me free things why should I?...There was that and the fact that I was an extremely lazy kid.Nothing in this world is entirely free, someone somewhere put some work effort and energy into it…if it looks free, someone somewhere is paying the price for it! as we grow we learn, to get those ‘best things’ there need be a lot of effort. Gone are days where we’re spoon fed on a walker. Because the best things in life, aren’t as free as we were made to believe…the best things indeed need a lot of time effort energy.And there we go ladies and gentlemen…now that we’ve established that nothing is free, Even the best things. When its ‘free’ for you, Appreciate it. Because someone somewhere is paying the price for that. Maybe with a liver, maybe with cash, and sometimes just sometimes…with expectation  but there are two sides to every coin and  best believe also sometimes… if its free…its probably not the best thing.

2:00 AM and my phone rings, I hesitate to pick up because I usually don’t pick up calls  after midnight.Text, I will see it, a friend once told me I was a security guard in a past life coz the tiniest noise never fails to gain the attention of my  bat ears and I automatically wake up to question it,  boarding school,years ago they used to tell me  I was the white guy that  dies in the movie looking for the noise ‘herloo, is anybody there?’ … But if I have to wake up pick up a call and talk…I cant sleep again and I love my sleep, I get agitated and grumpy proceeding to annoy anyone who calls me knowing this fact. Hence they also think twice about it…making me think whoever called this hour ignoring the wrath of Jack sure must have a good reason. I pick it up after a brief moment of heartily consultation ‘What are you doing?’ she asks, I refrain from giving my usual ‘picking apples for breakfast’ answer coz I could hear her crying on the other end. I ask her the matter and she tells me what every girl doesn't want to hear from her friend in the wee hours of the night. ‘We broke up’  Jesus Christ. I fold my pillow and make coffee.. there will be a lot of talking crying  and no sleeping and the child in me had already started crying. I could understand why she was crying . On the rate of good looking the guy was a Chris Brown, a panty dropper I call them. The kind of man women dropped underwear for, all he had to do was snap. Unlike me though,not that shallow,I definitely pick my men on the base of intelligence. Yes Really. I'm not kidding. Believe me. Why don’t you believe me ?So like the good friend I am I proceeded to do what a good friend does when her friend  breaks up with her man. Tell a Good lie.  Bash the bastard. ‘He wasn’t even handsome, you’ll find another one.’ Lie. He was perfection at one point I wondered if it was legal to even have a face like that.Her chances of finding another one of 'those'  were on the probabilities of 10:90  or at least we all concluded the next day with the girls as we all cried on it, we called it a funeral…every time a girl loses a very good man we call it a funeral. Msiba! ‘He had a funny nose anyway.’ Lie. His nose was work of art. Picasso.‘I never even liked him’  Lie. I could not stop staring at his perfection, at one point I think I was inlove and  the girls picked a punishment for me for attempting to fall in love with my friends bf .Cut your hair. Gain weight for a week. No weaves. The feeling eventually wears out automatically. I actually invented that system. Mad turn of events when they used it on me.. I actually invented the ‘correctional system’ when a friend admitted she had a crush on a guy I was seeing, I have to admit it was harsh. My friend had never done the deed with him so I proceeded to use  the illest one of them all-‘I heard he wasn’t even good in bed’ Lie. I heard women speak in tongue after his sessions.‘I heard he has 1 butt, one got cut off in an operation’ Lie. LIE. LIE.LIE! Now we all know why he eventually broke with her. But was it the right moment to blurt it out? No. She was one of those women who would go Jazmin Sullivan and we were all too broke to bail her out of jail anytime soon and thought, its cheaper to go the safe route.  Even grumpy little Jackie couldn't bring herself to do it. We did what lazy underpaid heroes do and let her save herself and pick herself up and told her about it 6 months later, of course she had a fit and we laughed about it, she could see the situation differently now. But it was the right moment. And I thought to myself. Do we all need a good lie sometimes or is Timing just  everything.A wrote a poem once. Called Lie to Me. It got so misunderstood, people came to me saying it is wrong to support sin, some said I need a better relationship, others were keen on pointing out that ‘I was depressed’  Missing the main point.. Basically the poem was not about love and had nothing to do about love, I rarely write love poems but love using the notion as paradigms, it was just someone saying, They were not ready or much less equipped, to know what was there, like a child is not ready  to walk into the world unprotected without parents.The truth is good, it is grande. But is the moment right? There is a time for everything. The truth will set you free, freedom comes with a price. Are you equipped to pay it just yet, is everyone else equipped to pay, what will come of it?  There is an importance In knowing the right time to be speakWhen I was In college my literature professor got  me some book called ‘The right moment to speak’  or something like that,being a reader I thought she was just being nice, it took me two days of reading to understand she had given me an intellectual ‘shut the fuck up’Because I talked too much, I criticized too much, It was the truth, but it was never the right moment. And it made me look bitter, but I never knew, because in my eyes, I was being honest. I was practicing the grande art of truth telling. I’m not saying we all need a good lie. But do not be as cruel as putting someone through the triumphs of truth when you’re sure they aren’t  ready. My doctor once told me one thing , We don’t lie, we just don’t tell the whole truth. I still disagree with this like many people do. They have a tendency to not tell patients the whole truth these doctors and he proceeded to defend himself saying 'We make mistakes, but I guarantee you patients wont make good decisions when you tell them the actual situation and some decisions might cost you your job, You have to know when to say what. Sometimes you have to withhold some information until you’re sure they can stomach it and you can control the situation.' and i argued with it..to the bone. Your're not God. You cant control everything. Then it hit me, epiphany. What comes of it just yet? Is it called for? You're not God, you cant control every situation. That was scary. But it was about being careful with our timing for ejection of random truths. Not hiding it,  under the circumstances the truth should or should not be told and have good reasons for making that decision. If the situation demands that telling the truth can cause problem or it can solve. Evaluate. What is the reason for 'your truth' Then again Don’t lie, Never Lie. Timing is everything. And of course, diction. Know when to speak, and when to be silent. But always remember, sometimes, however Golden silence is, Better the killer than the witnesses that say nothing at all and walk on by.

However If you are in this category of people, be warned. You will lose a lot of friends along the way. One by One,we each have our own saturated levels of bullshit. The count to how long  till they give in for each of your friends... starts now.

And then there is the self destructive love, Don’t be  in a love that self destructs you, no matter how hard you have fallen …Bonne Clyde Romeo and Juliet often tell us a story of love that sometimes I find hard to believe, if you’re okay with endangering the one you love willingly, is it love?  No. Romeo Juliet is a tragedy about how dangerously infatuation can lead you to think it is love and I really think Shakespeare was mocking teens with this one, fall in love in a few hours, married at 12 kill themselves in a week,kids,I feel like the only one who saw the joke in that.… and Bonne and Clyde,well Bonnie had a mental disorder, Hybristophilia, look it up, that’s all I say to people who stay ‘in love’ with those who endanger them 'if Clyde loved Bonnie here's what he woulda done he woulda built Bonnie a big ol house in the mountains and take his money home to her after every robbery but he didnt even knowing what danger he is putting her through, ever seen a criminal taking his wife to work? Would he really put her through that danger if he loved her' …in the end if you’re  soul is slowly being nibbled in a love you call pure.Now I’m no expert but, that's  not love. Then again in some cases aren't we all experts of not recognizing love when it dances right in front of us for 12 hours with a sign. Sigh.

I have a very interesting neighbor  She goes to church an awful lot...not that its bad, I do too. But then again this friendly neighbor of mine spends almost the whole day every single day there, I know for a fact because I see her there every when I drive by after work .. Sometimes I have to take her 6 year old twins in and entertain them when they come to my house to play coz Daddy traveled Mommy's not home and the maid ran away (which I'm still not sure they noticed). Now, I love children so I don't mind at all. Whats 2 kids who just want to watch cartoon, not a lot of work at all. Plus I have niece myself who taught me a thing or two about children, food and television and they're good. This neighbor,lets Call Susan (false name), is really young, 34 or something like that..She has lots of dreams lots of ideas but really doesn't follow up on them, she has a CPA.. Masters from a ivy League university,tonnes of experience from working for MNCs but quit to start a business which hasn't start till date. Most of the times she says she prays really hard every single day, for God to give her a business so to reach her goals or aspirations or something like that. But here's the thing, she has never once tried to do ANYTHING in fact she doesn't know what kind of business she wants yet...but according to her God will show her and give it to her. She says she goes to church every single day for God to give to her a business. Yes.She wants to finally start her business, doesn't know what yet, wants God to give her a business I think those were her exact words. I find this sort of unrealistic thinking. Sadly I know a lot of people like Susan, who don't lift a finger but pray their lungs out speaking in tongue for God to help them in their goals and dreams and I go, so wait a minute...What do you actually want God to do for you? Drop you a business house, capital, registered licenses two workers and a couple of customers to start your day and occasionally throw you some crazy profits when he's free?  Saying this made me the topic among Susan + friends who labeled me a non believer and occasionally when they think i cant hear them 'Satan' she even warns her two twin daughters from coming to 'Satans House' I totally understand her anger, I even understand why she opted to call me 'Satan' don't we often label people who tell us the truth that we don't want to hear?...Haters, low lifes, the sort. We make excuses for them in our minds...we find reasons why they could possibly say something that hurt us. They could be haters in our minds, they could be satan...but are they right? I find it so many people do so little and expect so much. Reminds of a certain story my uncle told me about a certain man named John, John would pray every single night for God to help him win the lottery like his relatives, coz it seemed every week one of his relatives won the lottery. He would pray long and hard and after 3 months he lost hope and concluded God has forsaken him until a deep voice boomed from above while he was on his knees and said 'John, look Buddy, I haven't forsaken you, but you have to help me out here.. meet me halfway, BUY A TICKET'  . How lazy we have become to expect everything to be done for us without lifting a finger, that we expect to pray for God to give us things and  watch them be done as we lay around drinking mojitos on the beach, I'm not so sure it works like this or someone please correct if i was wrong, does it?  Have a Blessed Sunday.