Three days ago, I was standing on the edge of a cliff next to a waterfall. Moments before a lady and two guys in the expedition group jumped off the cliff without the slightest hesitation. It was now my turn to make the jump. A crowd of more than 50 hikers was watching from the sides in anticipation. Uneasy, silence followed. Every single flash of the camera pushed my racing heart a notch higher.
Reality hits you really hard when you turn 25. You realize that you have lived for a freaking quarter century yet have nothing to show for it. Quarter-life crisis strikes. Younger siblings look up to you, parents expect you to take on more responsibilities, hell even kids start referring to you as yule mbaba, thanks to your bulging waistline.
A few days ago my mother pointed out that I have become calculative and ruthless. I couldn’t agree more, this city has changed me. There are lots of men & women in this city who prey on young and desperate people.
They shamelessly take advantage of naive, hardworking and highly talented people, exploit them for selfish gains then discard them like trash. I call them thugs in suits. They are everywhere, from government institutions, private sector to learning institutions hunting for their next victim.
For a very long time, I watched my favorite public personalities including US President Barrack Obama speak before thousands of people with so much confidence and ease. I always wondered whether I would ever be able to do the same considering how scared I was to even speak before a small crowd of strangers. After several months of learning and practicing, I would say that I’m now a good speaker judging from the round of applause and compliments I get every time I speak in public or make a presentation.
Six months ago I went to this store in town looking for an item that I needed to take my blogging a notch higher. I was flat out broke, so I simply admired the said item, noting down the features, accessories plus costs in my red notebook.
On discovering that I wasn’t going to make a purchase that day, the shop owner got so pissed that he took it back asking me not to waste his precious time. He asked me to only go back when I had enough money to buy it.
Two years ago, I met a man who completely changed my life. I had gone to interview him for a magazine I was writing for at the time, hoping to unearth the secrets behind his massive success in business.
The very first time I went to Kibera I thought I would never live to see another day. Before we ventured into the slum, my guide who claimed to know every inch of Kibera shared with me three rules that I ought to follow otherwise I would end up on a cold slab in the city mortuary.
When I began writing almost four years ago, I kept it a secret. I was afraid of what people would think of me. I was scared that there are lots of writers who were way better than I was. I was petrified at the thought that no one would bother to read and if they did they would laugh at me. See, in my KCSE I scored a B- in English.
The first time I spoke to a crowd of people that wasn’t comprised of students I made a very big fool of myself. This happened during the Captain America IMAX competition that I beseeched you to nominate me not too long ago.
If you have been to government offices then you know how slow, annoying and unhelpful some civil servants can be. One time I went to different ministries looking for internship opportunities. Each time I would be stopped at the security desk, asked to drop my CV & application letter at the in-tray with a promise they would call me should an opportunity arise. In the same tray, I saw hundreds of other applications.