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My World Water Day: It rained cats and dogs

Today is World Water Day. My “World Water Day” came three weeks back. After a three-month sunny, dusty and  dry spell, the rains  came late in the evening, fast and furious. It carried away with it a lot of debris  to Lake Victoria. The sweet smell of the rains meeting the earth was sweet to my nose. We were excited to see the rains although it pounded fast and furious and we could not hear each other or watch Television. It had not rained for three months when the flash rains came. So you can imagine our joy. I ran to the window and took pictures of the rain although I did not know what colour the photos would produce.

We were surprised to wake up the following day only to find that the flowers were as excited as the rest of us. They had been thristy too. They had come out in their splendour and glory.

Meanwhile the rains did their act. Some serious business, indeed.

I had to quietly sneak to the window, back and forth on barefoot as Mama warned me that I could be struck by lightening. Meanwhile, the thunder roared as if the Heavens would come down.

The rains lulled for a few seconds before it continued with its marathon.

The rains fell against the shutters and shook the trees and indeed confirmed that it had taken over Kisumu City. Meanwhile Mama called me to have a hot cup of tea, if only to get me away from the door. The birds that had been chirruping outside went dead quiet and I prayed they were safe in their nests.

Meanwhile, I stole more quick shots, hoping my camera would not get wet.

And what a wet water day it was! Water is life. Happy World Water Day.

Happy Comes Home tra la la la la

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Happy came home last night. I am just so excited I do not know how to tell this story. One minute please, I need to breathe slowly. In…out…in…out. Phew! I have screamed and danced and cried till I cannot dance any more. I am happy once more. Happy is back home. He sniffed his way back after he disappeared from home three weeks ago. It has been a torturous time, with sleepless nights and nightmares. I have heard neighbourhood dogs bark and ran to the window, thinking, hoping that it was Happy Dog, but no.

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Happy came home looking dirty and starved. He had been bitten all over the body by some stray dogs, I guess. Someone had taken away his collar and chain. He sneaked in at 3 am and came to my bedroom window. He did not bark, but kept scratching the window sill. It was as if his return was a secret between us and he did not want anybody to know about it. I was fast asleep and I thought I had been attacked by thugs. It was Happy. Oh, how we hugged in joy. If he could talk, Happy could have told me what happened. It does not matter, though. The important thing is that Happy is back home, safe and sound. Happy gobbled all the milk and all the food it could get hold of. For one moment I though Happy had turned into a greedy Hyena.

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Happy is sick. I took him to the Veterinary doctor down the road, next to Donna. The doctor knows Happy’s history and Happy knows him too so he will be happy to be near someone he knows. He vaccinated Happy against rabbies a while back. So Happy will stay at the clinic for a few days as he undergoes treatment. But I will be visiting him. I have to take some time off work. Lucky has bad wounds so I will not take his pictures. It would be violation of his privacy and a little cruel and insensitive on my part. So the pictures I have posted above are older ones of Happy’s taken in January and February 2012. I showed him the pictures and he liked them, well at least he licked the laptop.

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Happy is a great grandchild of the group of police sniffer dogs. He came home five years ago when he was only one week old. A lady family friend brought him to give me company as I could not get over my father’s death long after he was gone. We were talking about my father, who died in a car crash in 1998, when I burst into tears and everyone realised how raw the pain still was to me. Happy became my constant companion, always there for me, always so faithful and true. Through all life’s ups and downs, Happy stayed on. It hurt me deeply when he went missing. Happy knows how to climb high walls too and I believe he must have inherited this trait from his parents. So he climbed his way up the walls and into his kennel.

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What a happy day. The sun seems much brighter today, the coffee tastes sweeter and everything seems happy. Thanks to all friends and family who gave me their support through phone calls, text messages, posts. Welcome Home Happy Dog. Welcome Home. I love you!

 

Dumped for her thin mosquito legs

Sarah had always had thin legs but she had never thought her man would dump her for her legs. She was aware that her legs were very thin but she loved them and had never equated them with a mosquito. So it came as a shock to her that Freddie, her love did not love her legs at all. They had dated for the last six months and he had never mentioned her beloved legs at all. How could a man claim to love you and hate some parts of your body? She was slim and tall and had a small frame when she met him, yet that had not stopped her from loving him. Now she was expecting his baby. What was she going to do? Deep down in her heart, she knew he still loved her. Where had this ill wind come from and carried  Freddie’s love for her in a totally different direction? Whirlwinds came fast and furious and carried everything along its path, left a wave of destruction behind. How come no one had ever told her that love was a whirlwind?

Sarah could not remember exactly when Freddie started hating her legs. But she did recall it had all started with the visit home to his parents in Saola Village up the mountains. Sarah was already 33 and still in search of a husband when she met Freddie, 47, a Banker at her friend Jerusa’s Birthday Party in Eastleigh Section Three. Freddie looked into her eyes during dinner and shouted in front of everybody, “I don’t know you much Lady Sarah, but I am going to marry you!” Everyone at the party had been embarassed for a minute. Then everyone burst out laughing. Sarah, a Secretary with a Law Firm was amused too and took it as a joke, bust she soon realised he was serious. He wanted her to meet his mother.

“I know mum. She loves weddings. She has been nagging me to marry, so she will be quite excited to meet you,” Freddie had said, his dark eyes shining in joy. No one had proposed to Sarah all her life and she decided to grasp this opportunity for a husband with both arms. Men had come and gone in her past but none had even joked about wanting to marry her.

The visit home had been pathetic. Freddie’s mother and her four huge, tall, plump sisters had burst out laughing, the moment she arrived. It was not the usual laughter, it was evil and taunting…laughter that did not come from the heart. “Is this the woman you want to marry?” Freddie’s mother had asked him sadly, contemptuously. “Yes, this is Sarah, a beautiful lady with a wonderful heart,” Freddie said happily.

Then Freddie’s aunt Rita had summed it all up. “No, no, no. What joke is this, Fred? This girl cannot fit into this home. Look at her mosquito legs. Her legs do not deserve to walk in this important home. You cannot marry her. You will have sickly children with very thin legs and you do know that our family is endowed with nice, plump, healthy bodies.” Sarah looked between Freddie’s aunts and his mother and back to Freddie. Freddie looked down, never saying a word as the aunts taunted her.

They had left immediately without even taking lunch. The six-hour journey back to the city was quiet with no one saying anything or eating any food along the way. Usually, they would have gone to his place. He dropped her at her house in Buru Buru Phase Four as he headed to his house in Fedha Estate. “I will call you!” Was all he said.

Three months later and he had not called. He did not pick her calls either. His friends had gone out of circulation. But she still hoped. That one day he would show up at her door, with the beautiful flowers he used to bring her. She knew he would show up with her favourite red wine. Love did not just disappear into the blues, without a reason. Surely, her mosquito legs  could not kill the love between her and Freddie. She still loved him. She knew he loved her too…despite her small legs.

Where are your hospital manners?

We have at one time or the other been patients. Close family members, friends, relatives,  colleagues and those dear to our hearts have been hospitalised too. When a patient is in hospital and especially when one’s condition is not stable, relatives and family tend to be overcome by anxiety, tension and stress.

Patients dearly cherish hospital visits which give them an opportunity for encouragement, moral and physical support. Unfortunately, not everyone always has goodwill towards the patients or their families. Some hospital visits are abusive and depressing rather than exhilarating. Some visitors even silently or verbally wish for patients to die.

Do your hospital visits make the patient better or worse? When you visit a patient, it is important to carry your hospital manners along with you. Commenting within the patient’s hearing that he or she has only 24 hours to live and will not make it, can be distressing to the patient. This is purely bad manners. Careless, reckless and insensitive talk must be discouraged by all means.

Grudges

Patients tend to feel that relatives and friends owe them a visit. Do not promise a patient a visit unless you are sure to come because patients tend to hold grudges when you do not turn up. They are already vulnerable and may feel rejected , abandoned or even deserted. This may result in self-pity.

‘Get Well’ card

One should not celebrate over a patient’s illness or hospitalisation. Avoid malicious and negative remarks around the hospital as these thoughtless comments may worsen the patient’s condition when they get to hear of them. Telling a patient they look as thin as a rake and then bursting into tears is not in the patient’s best interest. Telling them off over their illness is extremely unkind. If you have no words of encouragement for the patience then silence may be very good for you. Better still would be a ‘Get Well’ card.

Some visitors carry other medicine to the patient and convince them to take them thus interfering with the patient’s regimen. Giving the patient charms or any other medicine can cause serious repercussions as the patient is already on prescribed medicine.

Visiting during meals, not because you want to assist feed the patient but to take advantage of the patient’s poor appetite is bad manners indeed. Gobbling up fruits from the patient’s fruit basket  and drinking all the juice as if they will never recover is poor manners.

A genuine smile

Give the patient a genuine smile. There is no point going to visit a patient you do not like and then laughing very loudly during the visit, especially when you know the patience has extreme headaches.  Body language experts can easily identify wrong body language. A lopsided smile may in fact mean you disapprove of the patient’s condition. Others take great lengths to investigate the patient’s personal life. They move around the hospital making friends with nurses and patients’ relatives to get background for gossip.

Family space

Please give the patient and his or her family personal space. Use wisdom to discern whether your visit may not be suitable for the patient. Kindly avoid distressing the patient with unusually long prayers or trying to push the patient to accept the Lord as their personal saviour when all they need to do is to sleep. Along with your manners, you could carry with you fresh flowers, an assortment of fruits, bottled water and of course a great and genuine smile.  One can carry a range of toiletry like toothbrush, toothpaste, face towels, a comb, bathroom slippers and a change of underclothes.

The don’ts

Do not carry alcohol, cigarettes, charms or any other form of drugs to your patient, They will cause more damage than you could ever conceive. Happy visit!

 

 

 

Oh these wordpress.com deadlines

It is a Sunday morning and rather than sleep in and have a lazy restful day, WordPress.com deadlines are keeping me on my toes.

It all started when I got a message in my inbox saying someone had thought my post was awesome. Highly impressed by this I started clicking the ‘follow’ and ‘like’ buttons, not realising what a loadful I was piling in my mail.

Now I am late with reading all the blogs in my mail. There are posts that I have not opened since last week, there are comments to be moderated. There are some breathe-taking pictures that I had promised myself to go through again when I got time and I want to watch my favourite Soap Opera on TV. I have to check my stat mail urgently to see how many viewers have visited my blog. Of course this is the part I love the most!’Now where do I start? The Freshly Pressed posts look inviting. Do I read all of them or just click “like” on each one so that  fellow bloggers think I did read their post. Oh I feel so guilty. I am overwhelmed I must confess. There are all my blogger friends with all these brilliant posts, how can I not read an interesting headline from with findinggravity who blogs on Ten Things I Learned From My Father. I am about to skip some mail but curiosity gets the better of me and soon I am reading Snotting black’s This One For All Bloggers Out There.

Then Blogger Maryanne Pale stops me dead on my tracks with My First Guest Blogger Brian Misinale, her cousin who does a rather moving piece, My Heart and Soul. I sympathise with the twins who had cancer and the fact that one of them passed away. Misinale’s new family, he has twins too, brings a smile to both my face and my heart. There’s the Blurred Line and Guitarmonk, Creative Splurges and Photobotos. Defining my dash with Boldness shares how you can face head on whatever stands in your way and In My Opinion reveals her childhood and how mothers’ comments can really bring one down. Then I meet know the sphere with zero? raising pertinent issues on how some people use arguments while taking absolutist positions and Grumpy comments with People Person. Then monicahm‘s wonderful photos of an African sunset makes me nostalgic. It is a beautiful and positive image of Africa away from the wars and starving children. It is already lunchtime so I take a break and quickly serve myself bits of chicken, ugali (maize flour gruel) and cabbage and back to work.

I watch ooamerica: ooa’s cute video on taxis and I absolutely enjoy the ride and the dance.  I check the mail and the list is still rather long. I have about 50 posts on unedited politics. When I subscribed to unedited politics, little did I know that I would be reading President Kennedy’s Speeches on Religion. Rick Santorum Speech at Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri, Gringich, Romney and Obama and all other famous American persons.

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Sleepy Simba

My eyes are tired and soon I am fast asleep with so much knowledge in my head and lots of company. I may not be able to read all of them today. But now I fully understand if there are no comments on my post.  I have truly come to appreciate when someone takes their time and reads through my blog. Anyway, the WordPress.com to do items have to be done no matter how late inthe night. A Blogger’s got to do what a Blogger’s got to do.

Love me, please

“Love me please,” she begged him as she hang on to his knee, tightly.”Love me, please darling, I beg you, love me.” Instead of the hug she expected from him, he roughly shoved her off , shouting, “get off me, leave me alone!”

What had happened that such a man who once loved her with all his heart and would have done anything for her, had suddenly changed and no longer wanted anything to do with her.

“I love you, darling, please don’t do this to me!” She begged, tears flowing endlessly down her face. He sneered at her, showing complete indifference and contempt. What was the world coming to? Jude, her Jude, the man who has once literally walked on the grounds she treaded on had become a complete stranger! She could no longer recognise him.

“There are so many men in the world. I don’t understand why you are clinging on me! I am giving you the freedom to go out and marry them. I do not love you anymore! You can even leave now if you want!”

The words hurt. “What have I done? What is it that is so unforgivable? I have been faithful to you. I have been submissive, I have never hurt you!”

“I don’t want to hear any of this!” He said as he put on his coat and walked out of the house.

What had happened? Was this her man Jude or this was someone else? Why was he doing this to her.

She got up from the floor and ran after him, begging him to love her. He ignored her, turned on the engine and drove off. She stood in the rain, numbed, feeling nothing but pain deep inside her heart. “He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t love me any more. As if the pounding rains agreed with her, they washed away her tears in sympathy at her plight. The plight of a love lost.

She woke up with a start to find Jude embracing her, holding her tightly inside their warm bed. “You were screaming in your sleep. Had a nightmare?” He asked gently. “Just a bad dream, I guess!” She responded, still feeling dazed. “Do you want to discuss it?” “No, oh no. I don’t even remember anything,” she lied.

She hugged him ever so tightly as if she would never let go. She felt lucky that it was only a dream and he was right here with her, ever so warm, ever so loving. This charming sweet man lying next to her was the real Jude, the Jude she knew and loved. “I love you,” she whispered and bit his ear playfully. He kissed her back. Soon, she was fast asleep.