The 20's

Quite a number of you have been asking, “What happened? Did you quit writing? It’s been so long since I received a blog update, are you okay?” For most if not all, the responses have been similar, “I took a break. I got a little busy. I’m okay, just having some writer’s block.” Funny how we human beings are quick to speak the truth when we succeed in something yet quick to lie when things are working against us. I had quit. I had given up writing. Why? Let me take you through a short journey from where it all started till this day. I don’t know if you’ve read any raw and real thing in the course of this month but my darling, this will be the first or among the few you’ve read.
It all started on a Monday afternoon as I was busy preparing my baby sister for a bath. For those who have met her, they can attest that she is a very vibrant baby. On top of that, baths have a certain effect on her and on that afternoon she was excitedly running around the house waiting to get in her baby bath tub. Now for those who know me well, they can attest that I am terrible at multitasking. To hell with the double standards that question the existence of a woman that cant multitask. I’m a woman and a perfectionist. Reason I am terrible at multitasking is because I love to do a neat job at anything and that means paying close attention to what I am doing. Anyway, so the bath was finally ready and I finally put the baby in the water. 
As we were bathing, my phone started ringing. I definitely assumed and said, it can wait. I figured that once I missed the call, the caller would just be patient enough to wait till I called them back. This however wasn’t the case, they called immediately after my phone stopped ringing. I’m a believer of, if I miss your call let me call you back but don’t blow up my phone. It’s quite annoying. Not unless it’s an emergency. So this time I rushed into the kitchen to pick my phone.
First thing the caller said was, “Hello Daisy, I’m glad you’ve picked up. With the urgency of the matter I thought I wouldn’t get a hold of you.” He spoke with a sexy masculine voice that somehow caught my attention. Maybe it was just the fact that he used the word ‘urgency’. By the time I was getting back to what I was doing, my baby sister had already gotten hold of the soap and was eating it. I seriously do not get the obsession of babies when it comes to soap or soapy water. Before responding to my callers words, I first addressed the soap agenda. Like most African mothers or elder siblings I didn’t address it in a low tone. I addressed it in a tone that was audible enough for the caller to make out what I was doing and how distracted I was. 
Finally I responded, “Who is this?” “I am an employee at Safaricom and I can see that you have been having trouble with your Safaricom line and I would love to address it because the problem may worsen if not looked into.” Now see, my phone had been acting up, not my line but my phone. My mind was too distracted to even think straight at the time. To even recall that it’s my phone that had a problem. You can’t blame me, my baby sister was my main priority, not my phone nor my line but my precious baby sister. You can definitely guess how the conversation progressed. If you’ve ever found yourself in a similar situation, you know exactly how fast these conversations escalate. They take the shortest amount of time but involve communication of some very important information.
Here’s the funny part. The call progressed well. So darn good that I managed to wash the baby and dress her up. By the time the call came to an end, my sister was fully dressed asking me if she looked smart, “Toto kaa poa?” That’s how she asks it and if you ever say no you will definitely change every single clothe you’ve dressed her in and you’ll both have to pick the clothes together. Though, this time she will be the one picking out what she wants to wear. When I say everything she wants to wear I mean everything, so you always have to dress her fine to avoid that hustle and also compliment her to boost her baby confidence. So I definitely told her, “Yes, unakaa poa. Sasa tupeleke nguo zenye umetoa.” We picked the clothes and headed together to the laundry basket.
 As we were putting the clothes in the laundry basket it finally hit me. It finally occurred to me that “Yes, I have been duped.” Duped like a fool. Looking at that laundry basket I felt like trash. Absolute trash. As if the clothes were smarter than I despite them being dirty and as if I was the one that deserved to be dumped in that basket. That’s the thing about saying that something can never happen to you. I had heard it happen to others and I had proudly said, “That can never be me. I’m always alert and who is that dumb?” Guess Mother Nature was just laughing in my face each time I said those words.
I sat down on the floor. Weak and confused. The only thing ringing in my head was, “Nitaambia watu nini?” I’m sure you’re wondering why would it affect me that much?  See, like most young people, I didn’t know how to safely secure my finances but mom having pointed out that I had a disease called “Spend every shilling I get” I had chosen to open a savings account in early 2017 where I would deposit almost every dime I got. Especially the money I struggled to acquire. You must be thinking, that was quite smart. Here’s the dumb thing I did. I opted to go for mobile banking so it could be easier to send money to my account. Plus, I was so sure I would never get duped. 
On that Monday afternoon, I gave out even my savings account pin and since I had not reached the annual withdrawal limits, anyone with my pin could withdraw money from my account. That bastard withdrew every single dime. I mean everything. He didn’t leave a single coin to at least console me that, “Hey, I still have something so I’ll just add to it.” Instead, he left me with loans and zero shillings in my savings account to continuously remind me that, “I’m dumb and I might have to sell my kidneys to accumulate the much I had saved.” Well, I eventually solved everything. Was a tedious process but I did. Though, I didn’t get none of my money back.
I’m sure you’re wondering, if you solved that, why wasn’t it easy for you to bounce back and what’s the link between your blog and this? The story doesn’t end there, but first here’s the link. My parents and I have a close relationship. I am allowed to do anything as long as I am honest with them, it doesn’t affect my studies and it doesn’t affect my health. When I decided to upgrade my blog and get it a domain, my parents and I had an agreement, their words were, “We support you writing but once you upgrade it by buying a domain you will be the one to cater for that cost.” I had definitely said yes because I knew I would make it work and I only had to renew the domain annually. But see, when I lost my money it was just a few months to the time I was expected to renew my domain. So there I was, eager to write but zero money. So I said, I’ll keep writing and figure it out with time. I was busy figuring it out. Got some cash but something in me had started changing, I was slowly realizing that it was getting harder every day. That my motivation to write was slowly decreasing. Then the final thing that broke me happened.
During the crash semester period that ran from June to August, the results of the units I had taken in the previous semester came out. There was this particular unit. A unit called Creative Writing. I still have no idea why it was in the curriculum yet I am not doing Journalism but oh well, the unit existed. Now now, I am not a braggart. But I swear the day I saw that I was doing a unit entitled creative writing I had one hell of a smile on my face and said to myself, “I’ve already aced this unit. I mean, I have been writing for years.” The mentality went straight to my head and created one hell of an attitude. Each time I attended that lecture I took the time to fantasize or text. 
When the time came to do the final project, I didn’t put much work into it. I just took my laptop and started typing God knows what and finally submitted it knowing I had passed. When the results came out I had failed. When I say failed most students think I had a supplementary. No offence, but my definition of failure maybe entirely different from your definition. But see, what I got was not what I expected or what I thought I deserved. I thought I deserved something better but had I really put any work into it? That grade took me back and did some justice or injustice to my confidence. Got me from a point of over confidence to a point of zero confidence. Ever since then, the best I have been writing is assignments, texts and projects.
The grade did get to me but I deserved it because looking back at what I wrote, I believe my primary school compositions about alien abductions were way better. The truth that the grade revealed was that, I was getting too comfortable. That I was still not a great writer but I was already letting some little progress get to me. At some point I started doubting myself. Doubting I’d ever write as good as Biko or Sydney. If I’d ever be a successful writer. Surprisingly, working through that failure and my self-doubt has taught me several things. I will never write like Biko. I will only ever write like me. I may be good at this but over-confidence will make me lose this game. Most importantly, it doesn’t matter how much progress you make, your mind still needs to be open to appreciate new ideas because growth never comes to an end. Not unless you pass away.
The incident of getting duped on the other hand taught me several lessons about money. Save it but save it wisely. Invest it because it’s easy to lose it all. Money is just a game; you either play it or it plays you.
Those are not the only two challenges I have encountered. The rest are too personal and somewhat irrelevant. Why I chose to write about these two instances? Because a large number of you will identify with them. Most of you know the value of holding something dearly to you then losing it. It may be something you had worked hard to acquire or someone that was dear to you. The minute you lose it, others may not understand how it feels or the story behind it. What’s sad is that you may open up to someone and they will say it’s petty. But my darling, loss is not just about losing someone. Mental instability is not just about losing or lacking money. Stress is not only caused by lacking something. So own your struggles and face them for no one else will ever walk in your shoes and get to have a deep understanding of the value you have accorded to someone or something.
Finally, learn to handle your money at a young age. How you earn it, spend it, invest it and save it. Most of all, whether it controls you or if you control it. And, just because you’re good at something it doesn’t mean you’re the bomb or the shit. It just means you have more work to put into what you’re good at.
Being in your 20’s may seem like you’re walking through a series of hell and heaven. Appreciate it and be wise. You’ll someday be happy that both hell and heaven came your way when you were young and vibrant.


Wow👏👏 What an interesting and lovable piece. I surely took my time to finish this cause of the catching effect in it.Bigups girl

Nice article 💞💞💞

Intruiging article.. Good job

So relatable....I love this article

Great piece...couldn't get my eyes of it till the end

Wow!! That's insightful, esp the money handling part