2019 has been a whirlwind of things. Emotionally I have been ripped to pieces and steadily pieced back together again. The process is still incomplete. I have had conversations with people and myself showing me how much more work I have ahead of me to restore my emotional and mental health. My past has played
“Mama, would you consider offering your expertise as a teacher? There are a lot of organisations and school boards in need of your expertise.” “I am tired, I was a teacher for over 30 years, I don’t really want to engage in anything in that area anymore.” “How about going back to running the orphans
Slightly over 17 years ago I watched my mother force-feed my father as he slowly deteriorated. His mind had given up and his body wasn’t fighting much. In a matter of months, he was gone. Those who exploited him and had run away in his time of need were back singing praises of my father’s
“I want a man,” Muthoni said jokingly as we entered the car. I laughed, Muthoni always says the most random things. “No I am serious Rose, I am not joking, this whole story of chasing a career down a road to nowhere. Imagine I am done!” She wasn’t smiling this time, she was so
I was on my way to the supermarket, when a gentleman passed me with a t- shirt which had a message on it which made me laugh, but it had some truth to it; “Don’t grow up, it’s a trap!” By the time I was 15 years old I thought I had it all figured
I had a series of interviews a few weeks ago. I will share my experience with two of them. When I was called to schedule the interviews I was filled with dread. I have never really liked interviews, they remind me of the uncomfortable conversations I used to have with my dreaded paternal grandmother. Nyar