Ticking off my bucket list

I normally don't do resolutions at the closure of the year, probably because I know by the third day of the year, I'll probably have forgoten them, or rather drowned them together with the liver. I therefore prefer not to put myself in a position where am trying to achieve a resolution I can't remember clearly the reasons behind it. I prefer not to make resolutions, at least not the end year kind of resolutions.

This year however, am making my first resolution. To start making resolutions.

Anyway, that is not the main issue today. It's about a few things I've been playing with in my head for a couple of days. Things I should do in the near future.

1. Learn how to drive.

Sometime back, me and my cousin Patrice were driving along Musindi Road. When we got to Ngara girls, my cousin gave me the wheel, he'd been teaching me to drive for a while and I was feeling a little more confident on the wheel. I drove through Southern Blue hotel quite smoothly, took the turn down Nyayo market, (I was all smiley, I had finally learnt how to drive), went straight and took the turn to the gate real smooth, approached the gate, then something happened. I realized the gate was half open. My cousin could could have navigate through the space left but I didn't have that kind of confidence. I freaked. I stretched my foot to reach for the brakes and hit the gas pedal instead. I freaked some more. To make things worse, a group of mechanics who have a garage right adjacent to our flat started screaming directions and warnings from all angles. I freaked even more and pressed the gas pedal some more, I was froze and couldn't move my leg. I crashed my uncle's car outside his gate as he watched from the balcony. Needless to say, he banned me from ever touching the wheel of his car. I have never tried to touch the wheel of anyones car ever since. Am planning to.

The reason am planning on learning how to drive is because I've finally decided to take that road trip I've been meaning to take for the longest time. I want to take a fortnite and drive through the places I've heard the greatest stories from. Drive through Kisumu, pass by Moyale-Ethiopia border, Muliro gardens, watch Luhyas in groups in Kakamega, Samburu and finally take a swim through Lamu one more time. I want to make the stories I've heard from these places through other people mine. I want the stories I've heard from these places to be heard through me too.

2. Take a train ride.

To be honest, this is a new plan. It wasn't with me before last night. Here is what happened.

I got home and really wanted to blog. I like you guys, and although you don't necessarily show it, I think you at least like me too, or the blog. I wanted to put something up for you but I didn't have anything. My vault was empty.

So I called up a friend of mine, I wanted her to throw a couple of pointers my way, especially because she writes too, and as I learnt, reads a lot too. I think we can all agree it makes sense to try her. So she throws a couple, compares relationships with shoes, we try to complement pros and cons across gender and the communication problem, we go on and on, and on, and finally lands on some of the things we would like to do before we die (she is convinced that it is still possible for someone to send you anthrax via post). I already have a bucket list, visit either Rio or Amsterdam or both, attend a rock concert preferably Coldplay, make a fun album (photos of all my friends blacked out), among others. Then I thought about train rides. You board a train from Mombasa and spend a night in every town along the rail line. I thought a train ride across the country should be on my bucket list. Although we didn't come up with something that I could put up for you, we did add something in to my bucket list.

3. Paint a self-portrait.

I stole this idea from Fight Club (the best movie ever made)...........

Narrator: [Tyler steers the car into the opposite lane and accelerates] What are you doing?
Tyler Durden: Guys, what would you wish you'd done before you died?
Ricky: Paint a self-portrait.
The Mechanic: Build a house.
Tyler Durden: [to Narrator] And you?
Narrator: I don't know. Turn the wheel now, come on!
Tyler Durden: You have to know the answer to this question! If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?
Narrator: I don't know, I wouldn't feel anything good about my life, is that what you want to hear me say? Fine. Come on!
Tyler Durden: Not good enough.

Ricky's answer sounded good enough. Painting a self portrait sounded good enough.

I got to start cancelling things of my bucket list, I ain't getting any younger.

Don't send me to hell, I mind if you forget me

Stephanie sounds like a nice girl. I say sounds because I haven't met her in person but her voice tells a story of a girl most people would like to have coffee with. We didn't have coffee last Monday even though we'd planned to, not because I didn't want to but because I move without balance. I let life rush, I miss appointments, I miss out on good people, I forget to watch life, I run. I run faster than my legs can take me and know fewer people than I have met. In the near future, I will make a point of meeting her, and get to know her.

I don't reflect a lot. Let's eat, let's drink, let's make merry for tomorrow we die seems to pretty much sum up my life. It's a good philosophy on paper but in life, it's too fast, it's too true. The last part is too true. At some point we all die. It's not as scary as been forgotten but it's scary as hell, the hell in the Bible I must add. Death in itself is not scary. What lies after is what scares the shit out of me. What if there is a God? What if there is nothing? What if heaven is there or worse still hell which mankind is bound at birth unless Jesus saves our souls? What if the God we believe in is not the one on the other side? *shudders*.........

What if they forget me?

It scares me that out of sight, out of mind could be a reality. My hell. People walking around like I never existed. They'll eat, they'll drink, they'll make merry, for tomorrow they die. They'll eat, they'll drink, they'll make merry like I never existed. They'll date my girlfriend, they'll drink my milk, they'll attend the parties I should have attended, they'll make merry without me. They'll forget, and send me straight to hell. My hell. For me, being forgotten is scarier than burning probably because I don't believe that the fire is real, at least if God is the logical kind.

They'll attend the funeral, eat, drink and toast to a life well lived, pour liquor in my casket, lay flowers on my grave, and cry. They will cry for me because it is an important essence to be taken into consideration after the initial stage of the mourning feeling caused by a dear relatives death, they'll will blame their gods for taking a loved one away from them, they'll pray for safe haven of my soul in the heaven they believe in, they'll talk about me for a week, maybe a month, a year or so. The rituals will come and then the memories will fade. I will be gone, gone with the wind, but I don't want to go.

I want to live forever. Immortal in the hearts of mine, and theirs, those who care today, I want them to care tomorrow. I want them to laugh at the jokes forever (am praying for a life line here), to be immortalized in the memories we share, a chemistry between us that you couldn't bottle in a million years. I'll instigates fights that end up in love, sad days that end up in smiles, struggles with happy endings, I will force memories of me down your throats. I will not let you send me to hell because I mind if you forget.


I will travel when I can and make a friend everywhere. I will sit down with strangers and listen to their stories, eat their food and drink their brews. I will hold on to the friends I got and make a new one every chance I get. I will live forever, because I will make sure someone remembers me. When the reaper knocks, am going to heaven. I will not go to hell. I will not let them forget about me.


I will leave souvenirs, I will find them that which reminds them of me. Custom music cds which remind them of me every time they listen to it, jewelery from the few places I get a chance to travel to, sea shells from the next time I pass by a beach town, I want them to see me in the gifts that I give. I will make sure they remember me. I will leave a footprint in their hearts. I'll give them a memory. I will give all of them a memory.

Ring circus

So Jane was really pressed, she had to go now. The conductor was nice enough to let her go, but the place was kinda open and the sun was already out, about a quarter to 8:00, nobody really expected her to find a blind spot. I could see the curiosity eating the men alive, acting all chilled out, shifting in their seats (darting their eyes outside), but nobody figured out how she just vanished in the thin air. The first guy just couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't be that good at hide and seek, yes hide and seek because this is what we were training for when we were younger, except in real life we hide from cops and bosses as we seek beautiful women and beer offers. Anyway, this chap decides he was pressed too, alights and walks a few meters from the bus and does his thing, but he's not looking where he's aiming, he's still looking for Jane's spot, everyone was marveled by her hiding prowess. A few more men joined in the hunt, still nothing. She was good, considering she was handicapped in this game, I mean we all know that one seeks and all hide and not the other way round. The men’s faces screamed defeat, I included,

‘‘All those of the opinion Jane has won ''The Gikobe'' say Aye''

''Ayeeee'' All men in unison replied.

Finally she was done talking to nature and out of nowhere, she was boarding the bus. Most of us didn't see where she appeared from; these thin air productions are really catching on. One by one we boarded the bus acting like nothing happened but we all knew who the winner and the losers in this game were.

We are not even close to Mtito Andei and I was already tired, bored too. I'd been traveling the whole night and was still on the road. I had left Lamu the previous night, kinda sad though because I can honestly say I loved the place. Maybe it's the ocean, or the food, the people, but I did love it. I think that's why I'd been looking for excuses to stay a little longer, closing the financial year, collecting my baggage assessment letter from the ministry of public works, my release letter, and then there were a few parties derailing my schedule day in, day out. Eventually, something had to give....

So, the last day, it honestly felt like a season finale. Things were happening extremely fast, all the small things that I hadn't done because they were tiny little things compounded to be one big thing. Send the documents I need to send to the headquarters, pick up my bag from Feddys' place, drop some things I had at the office, and some other small things. It rained.

Lamu is not like the rest of this country, we don't know how to work around rain, you can count the number of umbrellas around, and today was the day that God decides to let it pour, poor Lamu. When it rains in Lamu, transport is a major issue; you know we walk on water right? I worked in the mainland and lived on the island. In the afternoon, it looked more like a passing cloud than rain, plus I figured I will cross for an hour or two and then rush back pick up my stuff and board the 9:00 p.m. bus. That was not fates plan. First was the limited number of passengers crossing to the mainland which in Lamu means either of two things, sit pretty and wait, or hire a boat for quite a sizable amount, almost a crate of Tusker at DOD Langata. You probably already know what I opted for.

Eventually, at around 4:00 p.m., I finished the few errands I needed to run, but the mainland wasn't really done with me. Mohammed, the chauffeur of the day (I know it's a bike but hey), he was willing to chauffeur me around, it's the low season anyway, ''kusi'' they call it and passengers are scarce. My friend Kisanya and his new found Miss Maggie were chilling at White house, farewells and all he demanded albeit served in brown bottles. A couple of Tuskers and Mfalmes later, it's 6:00 pm and I got to cross and pick up my bags.

The rain doesn't like me much either, of all the places it would have chosen to find me, it chose the ocean. Wet and cold in Lamu with half an hour before the boat sails, still raining heavily a quick break was necessary and Petleys was welcoming. Matata, his wife Queen, Kofi and Simba were in the house. Matata doesn't like his friends sober and a Tusker was on the table. My phone won't stop ringing, the rain won't stop pounding and the time won't stop moving. I prayed.

I think I prayed, the subconscious kind of prayer where God knows you need his help without you saying a word. Why do I say this, in the next five minutes, the rain stopped falling and my Tusker was empty but unluckily time stops for no man, so I've learnt. Kama had my ticket on his way to the boat as I rushed to collect my baggage, the calls kept coming through, and a couple of meters from the Jetty, I could see they were slowly moving out. I ran, calling out, calling Kama on his phone and flashing my phones display light to signal that I was coming.

Just so you know, it was not entirely my fault given that initially, I thought the boat would be leaving at 8:30 p.m. rather than 7:30 p.m. which happen to be quite a time difference. It was my first time to travel with the night bus and the time can sometimes confuse even the keenest of minds. Secondly, I hadn't seen my receipt which means I wouldn't know exactly what time I was supposed to leave.

The boat did wait for me. It was one of the bigger boats ''boti ya mbao'' rather than the speed boats am used to. Long ride that was.

We had some bad seats, the two seats in the middle of the back bench. The two guys on my right were just normal two guys, nothing extraordinary about these two. Kama sat on my left (I think we changed positions at some point and he moved to my right, his legs needed more space to breath) and to his left which was my extreme was this nice gentleman. A family guy probably, calm, cool, and collected gentleman, at first glance you would refer to him as ''the gentleman to my left''. The gentleman to my left kept his cool as the bus picked up speed, and then without warning, he pulls out a time machine!!

I know you guys don't believe me one bit but I got witnesses. Kama and the two gentlemen to my left will testify to this effect. He took us back to high school bus trips, loaf and soda bus trips. I think it's the manner with which he was least bothered by our peeping that intrigued me. I know I shouldn't be judging the gentleman to my left since I wasn't innocent enough to warrant me the stone throwing. Kama had some cookies and one packet of milk which we were, you know, but you got to understand none of us had had lunch. Not because we were not hungry, but in between my packing, office errands, scheduling that Friday blog post and Kama's unfinished jobs, the day was way too short. I doubt that the gentleman on my left had such a convincing story.

I decided to catch a couple of winks, I was a little tipsy and the running around was quite tiring. Around 0300 hours, Thursday morning in Malindi. When you are on the road, the times don’t give you a lot of navigating space. 15 minutes is almost the universally accepted break time from the butt numbing travels, and we try our best to make the most of it, you can’t wander off too far from your vessel or bus if you please. (Note that at this particular moment I hadn't met Jane). A quick meal of ''mshakiki na mahamri’’, - I only did the mshakiki, Kama decided since there were no chapos -unga ni unga-. The conductor switched our seats and then switched them again. I think this is where I met Jane; I had seen her couple of times in Lamu a cyber café, Kamas’ cyber café. The introductions were done, the niceties and all, and then back to the road.

The point of this story is the lessons from a married woman. As I later found out, Jane is a happily married woman. She got married young and she has been through all the fights that any marriage could ever have, from alleged affairs to extended family feuds; she’s been through them all. Being a bachelor, I got no clue how to handle institutional relationship feuds except from bits and excerpts from other peoples feuds, at least those who are willing to tell it with no bars held. She was willing.

How to treat your woman:

Honesty is overrated she told me. There are some things about you she doesn’t feel like she needs to know. According to her, she expects her man to at least have stray thoughts regardless of whether he’ll act on them or not. She also expects a few ladies to throw themselves at him especially because of the distance between her and him, physical that is (she works in Lamu and her husband works in Nairobi). Information should be weighed against expected reactions, and according to her, women are a jealous species. They don’t trust other women around their men and information insinuating that there is a lady willing to take her place as soon as she leaves the matrimonial compound is to be filtered to a need to know basis. In the same light, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her and a stray day should not be considered as something she needs to know. Do not give her a reason not to trust you.

Men have been known to accuse women of a lot of things, the biggest accusation being that they are money oriented. Contrary to popular belief, financial needs aren’t exactly primary to women although she made sure I understood that love doesn’t pay the rent. Apparently, women’s need vary from one woman to another unlike those of men (it is common knowledge that food, beer and sex will keep any man on a leash). You shouldn’t marry a woman that you do not know, and knowing a woman is not limited to her name and sexual prowess. A woman, any woman needs to know that she comes first and her needs (which you should know) are a priority. She needs to know she can count on you when she’s out of options and that sense of security is what will keep her home, your home that is.

Communication is not limited to her talking and you listening. Talk to your woman the way you talk to your friends every once in a while.

Respect your woman. Do not talk ill or command your woman to do stupid things in front of your friends. Learn how to treat her when you have company.

Jane is of the dying breed from what I gathered. She knows how a woman should treat her man. She is the old school kind of girl, who believes in working things out, always talking about her man in a positive light even though she expects him to f*** up every so often and most of all, she knows a woman can either make a man better or destroy him.

Unluckily for the singles today, this kind of breed is not fashionable anymore. Women of today expect men to change since they have. Their needs have changed and we too need to evolve. The Jane’s of the world are gone.