The Bond Between… Growing up through teenage hood, I came to realize that there is no greater gift a girl can get from the universe than a mum, well there is the option of shopping with an unlimited credit card, but it is not just a mother, a mum. A mother is the person that gives birth to you. A mum is the person that sits up late with ice-cream and cries with you when you are watching Devious Maids or some other soap/series. It does not matter if she is the kind that pats you sorry when you fall or the kind that back slaps your head for not watching where you are going, we all had a different one. Mums have natural PhDs in every career available. Try getting sick at two in the morning and you will be attended to by a doctor you did not know was on call. Either they will cook up a mixture of herbs and then make you drink it or give you some tablets to go along. Other times, they are the fashion cop. Mostly it is the short dresses they see, but we have those moments when the
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Showing posts from September, 2015
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Of Sibling Love and the Package That Is Coated With Responsibility … This week, my parents decided to visit their parents, thus leaving my siblings and I home alone for the week. No, there were no burglars and no, I did not get to blow off someone’s head with a flaming blowtorch, much to my dismay. Something terrible did happen though, my younger sister sliced her finger clean with a panga. Luckily, it didn’t fall off; otherwise this story would have been quite different. You’re probably wondering why, in the downloadable food century, anyone would be using a panga but here in my home, my village, we use firewood sometimes. And the moment her pain laden scream pierced the mid morning air, I could have sworn I couldn’t feel my heart beating. It had must have stopped to listen too. Then she raced through the door, I think she was coming to me for help but she didn’t make it past the doorway before her knees gave way and she sat there, wailing as I rushed to her side. I didn’
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When You Still Have the Time … There is something terribly electrifying about death. It is a feature so to speak that slaps you smack back into reality. If you live in a bubble, like me, it’s one of the two needles that prick it open, the other needle is love. You realize that sadly, everything and everyone must come to an end. It is the most adamant consultant in the world, like taxes, always lurking around to remind of what you already know, but you wish you didn’t. One of my friends just lost her dad to a terrible disease, which had been consuming him for sometime. When I received the news, I was in shock, for sometime. I was mopping the house but I just stopped and sat down on the very floor I was supposed to be cleaning, see, hot men are not the only reason a woman’s knees go weak. I did not cry I just sat and stared into the clear nothing. I had one of those moments where I did not know how to feel and how to react. If you were close, you could probably have heard th