Weight

What is it with people making comments mostly negatives ones about peoples weight? Is it that they themselves have weight issues and the only way to make themselves feel good is to point out how skinny or fat one has become?

Growing up food was not my friend, IT WAS THE ENEMY! Mum always says water was my daily bread as it was included in every meal I ate. It was mostly to help swallow the food that had overstayed in my mouth (kindly do not try to picture that, it is not too awesome a sight). 

In class 6 third term I insisted that I wanted to join boarding school with the only reason being "all my friends were there". Trust a girl to convince her mum into it. Class 7 and I finally joined. The food was not amazing at all. Suddenly, two slices of bread and tea for breakfast was not enough. For someone who hated food I was amazed at this too. Where had this appetite come from? I even got aka nickname "kanono." However, I did not care much about it. I had other things to think about like boys, adolescence and books. Furthermore, I still had not become too aware of cover girls in the magazines that I saw at home or at the salon. Visiting days, I could eat two plates of food so did my friends, just to compensate for the bad food we were eating. 

By the time, I was joining high school I had 'graduated' from being skinny to medium weight. Form 1 all the weight gained between class 7 and form 1 disappeared as I mostly fed on snacks. Doctors’ visits became regular due to frequent stomachaches and heartburns.  I remember one doctor saying the gastric juice and hydrochloric acid produced in the stomach was not matching the amount of food being consumed hence the regular visits. Perhaps I should revisit my Biology notes for further clarification. My school uniform even became oversize and taking it to the tailor did not help much because she did a very shoddy job at readjusting it.

Gah!!! Post high school, figure 8 took effect on me. Sema happiness galore. The weight journey has been a long one, one that I’m still sailing through.

The long and short of this post is that giving comments especially negative ones about peoples weight, could be a friend, colleague or total stranger doesn’t really do them any good. Try putting yourself in their shoes to know it has or is a journey for them and their still working through it.   

One of those days

Have you ever been in the company of your friends and realized you have been in a 'dream' for the last couple of months? Postponing stuff, more like procrastinating. Starting on a project(s) and quit halfway through. You do not really have a good explanation for quitting and the few reasons you come up with can't hold water. You therefore continue living the 'dream' and think to thyself that all shall work out.

Life seems to have stopped. It is moving and changing but all of a sudden, yours does not seem to be going through the changes or you simply do not want to notice them. Friends that used to be like sisters are no longer there. Moreover, when you try to reconnect its does not work out. What exactly is happening? Why is this 'dream' not ending? You had it all together at one point but it seems as though you are stuck in a dream that does not want to end.

You do not really know what went wrong but it feels as though not all is well. You think that someone will notice but that is not the case because those around you think you have it all held up together but that is not the case. At least individually you notice that something’s should change which is all that matters in this case.

Well, instead of being a pity party in the unending ‘dream’ you, need to get up and pick up the pieces of what and where you once were. Pick up from where you left of in your projects, be it in school, work or personal stuff. Rekindle old flames and friendships that should not die. Get a hobby, do something and let the ‘dream’ end.

20 facts about me

My friend tagged me on Instagram for the 20 facts about me. Instead of doing it there, I'll work up my list here. 

   20 facts about me

1. I love my sleep, a comfortable spot is good enough. My entire family can attest to this. I dream a lot such is when I have story ideas but hardly do I wake up to write them down.
2. I can make chapos. Round shaped ones and skinny are too mainstream but am working towards that.
3. Quite emotional. Intensity has reduced since my high school days.
4. I bite my nails when am nervous, anxious or stressed out. Its slowly fading away as I'm using nail polish too often nowadays.
5. I have very many clothes but I still say " I do not have anything to wear."
6. I love dresses. My target this month is to acquire 10 more. 2 down 8 to go.
7. I love my height. Short is beautiful.
8. I love chicken and chips.
9. Neat freak.
10. Enjoy solitude. It should not be confused with loneliness. 
11. I talk a lot. My brother seems not to like it though.
12. Team natural hair. Almost clocking one year. 
13. When I learnt how to write, I always wrote my name wrongly. Nyandu instead of Nyambura. That's my other nickname.
14. I enjoy writing and reading and thinking, more of over thinking which is not too healthy. 
15. Worn spectacles since class 7.  
16. I love chocolate. 
17. I like photography. But prefer being in front of the camera than behind it.
18. I prefer manual transmission cars to automatic ones. Only problem is balancing on a hill.
19. I am a morning person. Afternoon's are pretty slow. 
20. I laugh a lot.

photo credit @binti_pretty

Acceptance

We are never too young or too old to accept that our loved ones are gone. It may take days, months or years to accept but one eventually does. I was having a chat with a friend about the recent passing of her mum and how she has not accepted what happened. I do not blame her at all. This got me thinking about my own dad and how it took me several years to accept that he was never coming back.

I have written about him several times such as Thirteen years down the road. I did that story as a class assignment and that was what I needed to accept that he was gone.

I remember this was what happened those many years ago.

During the December holidays. 

We went to grandma's but this time round our stay took much longer than usual.

I was a very young girl.

Eight going onto nine. My brother was three going onto four. He hadn't even started school. However, he was to start in January. We had talked on end about how dad would take him.

One evening in the month of January our aunty came to grandma's, carried a few thermos flasks and helped us pack as we were going back home to prepare for school the following day.

I noticed the thermos flasks in her bag. Something deep inside told me all was not right back at home. 

But being very young. I didn't pry aunty to ask why she was carrying the thermos flasks.

When we got home, it’s not that too far off from grandma's but you have to use a matatu, I saw a tent outside and my fears were confirmed that something was not right. We got to the house, welcomed as usual by mum. I noticed that everyone around us was sad but being very young I wasn't sure why.

That evening mum together with her sisters broke the news to us, "Dad has gone to heaven," mum said. Long silence befell on all of us. I had watched enough movies and gone to a few 'maombolezis' to know what that meant.  A sharp pain cut through my heart. Ok! I don't really know I felt but I can equate it to that. 

Mum showed us the picture that was going to put up in the newspaper as well as the eulogy. I have such a good memory. I should upload that photo very soon.  That night I must have shared my bed with more than five relatives. Before they came in, I cried enough tears to fill the river near our home. We live near such wonderful features, a river and a swamp.

Dad passed on 6th January 1999. The days dragged on and we got to the burial day. I do not remember who it was but they did not allow me to see dad. Some reason about being too young. I still maintain, no one is too young to see his or her dad or mum even in the coffin. Being dead doesn't mean he stopped being dad. From that day until about a year ago, I was very bitter about it. Maybe I still am but its ok. I sometimes wish I could take back the hands of time just too see him one last time.

Life changed. We may not have seen it then but over the years, it has. It has been both good and bad. Despite all the many changes life must go on.

Taking Stock - 2

Making : Different styles with my braids. But am just too impatient.

Cooking : Dinner whenever I can. I get home really really tired. Being an assistant is not so easy sometimes. 

Drinking : More water everyday.

Reading : The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox by Maggie O' Farrell. Its been over two weeks now. Patience my dear, patience.

Wanting : To loose weight. After stepping on the weighing scale at Dr's last week I had a "heart attack". *faints*

Looking: At my nails. Am into nail polish and nail painting them. Its not perfect yet. Oh! and the photos I took this past weekend.

Playing: Ariana Grande - Break Free ft. Zedd. Why do most YouTube videos have such negative comments?Sigh!

Wasting: No time trying out the workout videos I downloaded last week. That "heart attack" at the Dr's was enough shock.

Sewing: Still find this very funny.

Enjoying: The peace and quiet in the office. Its almost 6.30 p.m

Waiting: For some awesome news. Or a surprise. Very hopeful btw.

Liking: The fact that its a new month and it began on a Monday.

Wondering: What time I'll get home today. Still in the office and traffic updates from @ma3route is that Waiyaki Way is a parking lot.

Loving: The dress I recently got. I call it the Turn Up Dress.

Hoping: I can leave now but I have to wait a while longer.

Marveling: At how tall my brother has grown.

Needing: Two weeks leave.

Smelling: Paint from the store downstairs. Yuck!

Wearing: Purple nail polish

Following: None at the moment.

Noticing: Am usually on the internet for more than six hours.

Knowing: That I'll get home eventually.

Thinking: I need to go on holiday. My mind and body are not in-sync.

Feeling: Rather hungry.

Bookmarking: 6th September. Family get-together. I hope they actually make it this time round.

Opening: Rather closing all tabs. Its home time.

Giggling: At the comments my boss makes sometimes. She's a very funny and talented woman.

Feeling: Again! Ok. Happy that I can post this. My mind was having a bit of a mind-block.

School is too far away.

Based on my observation at the bus stop every weekday evening, these are my thoughts about what happens to a young child every school day so that he or she manages to get to school early as it is too far away.

Waking up every Monday to Friday morning at 5.00 a.m. is a struggle for me. It is too early for a young girl like me to be up at that hour. However, because school is so far away, in Westlands and we live in Gikambura, I have to wake up very early, as I do not want to be late for school like yesterday.

Every morning mum wakes me up and prepares me for school. Most times, I do not have a recollection of what is happening until I get to the door and the cold hits my soft skin and goose bumps feel my entire body.

Immediately after breakfast mum walks me to the bus stop. Dad is still asleep. She ensures I take the matatu to the next bus stop. After saying our goodbyes I get on my way as she goes back home to prepare for work. The cold hard reality hits me once again, I am

all by myself now.

Not all days are the same. Most mornings the matatu conductors such as “Mrefu” do not like seeing small children, as we are a burden to them.  They claim we are slow and pay less for fare prices as compared to the adults among many others reasons. I therefore walk up to strangers and request they assist me board the bus to Westlands. It is 6.15 a.m.

The neighbours' kids who attend the public school next to our home are not on their way yet. How I wish I were them or trade places, they do not have to wake up too early to go to school.

The journey to school is not so rosy. I stand most of the time with a heavy bag full of books on my back, as homework was a lot yesterday. I stand not out of my own choice but according to the matatu conductor, the adults have more right to sit. Talk of the world being unfair!

We finally get to the bus stop, Westlands. The morning still very cold. I pull my scarf closer to my face to shield myself from the cold. I walk slowly as my feet cannot bear the morning cold and the heavy load of books on my back.

6.30 a.m. I get to school and sit at my desk. All I want to do is sleep but I can’t, as I have to finish yesterday's homework. I was too tired to finish it last evening. All the playing, running around in school with my friends, reading and writing in class and being on the road for almost two hours leaves me very tired that I have little energy in the evening to finish my homework.  Mum and dad always try to help with the homework but my mind and body gives in. As a result, I sleep on the study table. However, dad carries me to my bed when that happens.

Evening time or hometime as we like to call it gets by so quickly. I get to the bus stop and it’s no different today. Other school kids as well as the adults are already there waiting to go home. I try to get into the first matatu but the rude conductor shoves me away. I resort to sit on the pavement with the other kids and wait for a nice conductor to come by.

One finally comes and we are on our way home. It’s now 5.30 p.m. How I wish I was the neighbours kids, not having to use public transport to get to school but walk a few meters to school.

The journey takes longer than expected, as there is a heavy traffic jam. We arrive at the bus stop, I take the next matatu to Gikambura. 6.30 p.m I find “Aunty”, I don't know her real name, waiting for me as usual at the bus stop where mum left in the morning and helps me carry my heavy bag until home.

"Aunty has prepared a very tasty snack for me. I indulge before taking my evening shower and starting on my homework.  "Aunty" helps me with it but I prefer mum and dad helping me out as they are patient and pleasant even when I get the answers wrong.

Weekends are the best, no cold mornings, unkind conductors such as “Mrefu” and no heavy load of books on my back. My friends and I are all about play and more play and snacking.

My wish is that mum and dad allow me to attend the school next door, as I am too young for all the hustling in the morning and evening to and from school. Hear my plea mum and dad. School is too far away.

Taking stock

Stumbled upon this Taking Stock on a couple of blogs and figured I should try it out as well.

Making : Chapatis every Monday night.

Cooking : Chapatis. Everyone is enjoying my new found passion. 

Drinking : A glass of iced cold water.

Reading : Anything and everything. I need to book ASAP!

Wanting : A new set of earrings and neck-pieces.

Looking: At my Instagram profile and wondering why I didn't do this earlier.Follow @maryannshawrie

Playing: Temple Run. Oh! I keep hitting my head. Ouch!

Wasting: Time staring at the screen

Sewing: Hahahaha...I can't sew to save my own life.

Enjoying: The Fuse

Waiting: For today's cup of hot chocolate. Tasty.

Liking: My new phone

Wondering: Why didn't I finish this three months ago. 

Loving: My bag today. Gifted to my brother by yours truly.

Hoping: To get off work early today.

Marveling: At how my introverted self is slowly liking her extroverted self. I am such a loner at times.

Needing: A new pair of earrings and neck-pieces. Oh and a book (s)

Smelling: Java's Coffee. Its all in the mind.

Wearing: Black.

Following: None at the moment.

Noticing: The dentist is not so bad after all.

Knowing: I have a purpose in this life.

Thinking: I should appreciate mum more often than I do.

Feeling: Its going to be a good day.

Bookmarking: Anything worth reading. 

Opening: The next tab.

Giggling: At my photos back in the day and today's pick up line*

Feeling: Hungry