The Tryst

by Azam Ali

In the tumult of youth
I forgot about your promise
Of our tryst
My love for live overflowed
In the death of your splendor
And now as I make haste
Towards my own death
My pride breaks
Under its own weight
The clamor of truth
Beats steadily in my breast
As your love
Tears into the sheath of my pain
The sin is mine
And I weep at my unworthiness
To tend to your garden

There's an audio track for this poem... You can listen to it below.. :-) lol.

Advice to live by..

I'd like to post consistently on my blog but unfortunately being in the real world makes it almost impossible! lol. So Like the Phoenix-Pretending my blog underwent a 12 month cycle and not the 1000 year-it arises..reborn anew to live again!

Excuses for not blogging? oh, gosh! I could go on and on and on lol. But it's mostly got to do with me deciding what I've been wanting to do with my life and trying to answer all those questions that everyone asks even when they're 40.. But in true sense I like what Epicurus said “Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”

Anyways I'll stop pretending to preach and just let you watch a video I've been meaning to put up here. Don't judge the video by the first 30 seconds! It gets better..

Ladies and Gentlemen I bring you..... (Drum Roll) Advice to live by. Enjoy!

Moments..

How often is it that we acknowledge our bad days very easily?
But when it comes to our good days we are so immersed in it that we never realise it's 'good' until the moment has passed away..

Let's start Seizing the moment!

Biofuel in Kenya..

Ramblings

When I started blogging I knew it would never be consistent. So for a while I enjoyed my sporadic posting and then I forgot! lol.

I wouldn’t literally mean forgot my blog but I felt I forgot how to write. My math degree is so not a good contribution lol makes one forget the wonderful world of words! I'm not going to promise if I'll be writing a lot more often. Though I'd like to write more than I do. I want to write about everything I think about, sadly takes abit more time to put it in words! lol.

Anyways this post has no purpose apart from just rambling about things that probably make sense to only me. Life's been fair to me. and I'm grateful for that. Compared to what's going on around the world I would say life has perhaps been more than fair.

I've been musing myself with generous amounts of tv episodes and movies! It's taken over my reading for pleasure time! lol But thank God for commuting whereby I can get some reading done.

For now I'm just in my final year struggling to keep up with the logic and analysis of a subject introduced to the world by the Babylons and ancient Egyptians.

I’m still around..;)

Adios.

Tears as Kiambaa survivors relive flames of death

By Joseph Murimi

The scars on their frail bodies tell it all.
Four children who miraculously escaped from the burning Kiambaa church in Eldoret tell moving accounts of how they survived as they mark the first anniversary of the horrific incident.

The survivors (from left) Mercy Wanjiru, Anthony Njoroge, Mary Wahito and Jedidah Wahito (carried and inset) after a Press conference in Nairobi, yesterday. They appealed for help to raise Sh30 million for treatment. Photos: Boniface Okendo/Standard

Their bodies full of scars, they recalled how raiders set the church ablaze, killing 28 people.
Tender young bodies were scarred for life as acts of madness engulfed the country this time last year. The attack that shocked the world inflicted wounds on many children, who will carry scars forever.

It marked the lowest point in Kenya’s history as protests over the disputed presidential election results degenerated into an orgy of violence.
And as the children desperately seek assistance, the political class responsible for the violence retreated to idyllic coastal resorts to usher in the New Year.

Narrow escape

Yesterday, when they narrated their miraculous escape from the flames that devoured Kiambaa Church, Serena’s Amani room was dead silent.
Tears swelled in their eyes and flowed as memories of the horrific January 1, 2008, arson attack returned. The youngest– Jedidah Wahito - is now four years. She was saved from the petrol-powered fire by her aunt Mary Wahito Kariuki, 16, who also saved another sibling Anthony Njoroge, 11. Mary sustained burns as she rescued them. Anthony was burnt on the head and is yet to heal.

Severe burns

Mercy Wanjiru Njenga, 14, sustained severe burns all over her body. Her face was disfigured. The four spent a grueling nine months in hospital.
They spent three months at the Moi Teaching and Referral Hospital and six months at Kijabe Mission Hospital. And now, they require Sh30 million for further treatment in the US.

It is for this reason that they called a Press conference to appeal to well wishers to help them raise the money. Already, their treatment has cost more than Sh2 million.
On that fateful day, Mercy and other Kiambaa residents took refuge at the Kenya Assembly of God Church. She recalled yesterday that they had been warned of an impending attack the previous day.
"We spent the night at the church even after we were told we would be attacked. In the morning of January 1, our mothers went to prepare breakfast and we were left with the children. Our fathers had slept in the open guarding us. But at around midday, we heard screams. Suddenly, we saw raiders armed with bows, arrows and pangas.

"They chased the men and killed some. We began escaping from the church but they forced us back. They secured the doors then poured petrol on mattresses and set them on fire. Within minutes, the entire church was in flames. People were burning. At this point, I grabbed the children and jumped out. Jedidah was strapped to my back. We managed to reach the road despite excruciating pain. A Good Samaritan took us to hospital," she recounted.

New Year

Anthony’s escape from the flames of death was the most dramatic. Like other boys of age, they had spent the night ushering the New Year guarding sheep. They had been informed of the impending attack and stayed away from the houses.
When the raiders attacked, Anthony and a group of other boys were pushed into the church.
He recounted how he jumped out of the burning building only to be kicked back.
He fell next to an armed raider.

"I bit him hard and as he struggled to free himself, I rushed out and ran very fast towards the road. By now, I had sustained burns on the head and my clothes were burning," he said.
Anthony’s mother Peninah Wangui Mbuthia broke down as she told her story. She looked at her son and wailed. Peninah says life has never been the same. She has been in and out of hospitals.

Assistance

Some NGOs have been helping them recover.

Disaster Foundation of Kenya established by the Africa Disaster Risk Reduction Organisation and the Centre for Justice and Crimes Against Humanity are spearheading efforts to assist ten survivors – the four children and six parents.

Chairman of the centre Mbuthi Gathenji said they require Sh30 million for medical expenses for the children.

He said well wishers including the Government have been of help but needed to do more.
Mbuthi asked well-wishers to make their donations to account number 0170293014368 at any Equity Bank branch.

He said the funds would be audited by a reputable accounting firm to ensure they are spent appropriately.

Absence

Andalusian Poetry
.
Every night I scan
the heavens with my eyes
seeking the star
that you are contemplating.

I question travelers
from the four corners of the earth
hoping to meet one
who has breathed your fragrance.

When the wind blows
I make sure it blows in my face:
The breeze might bring me
news of you.

I wander over roads
without aim, without purpose.
Perhaps a song
will sound your name.

Secretly I study
every face I see
hoping against hope
to glimpse a trace of your beauty.

Abu Bakr Al-Turtushi (1059-1126)
.
Thanks to Kulsum

I see you on the shore,
I yearn for you.
I see you in the morning dew,
I yearn for you
I hear your drops fall
I yearn for you

Your cycle continues
From the pits of the earth, so narrow.
You're lifted to the skies, so wide.
Fall you must, back into the earth.
I hear you,
I feel you
I quench myself with you.
Oh! Sweet water, how pure are you?!

The days of the mali mali

At a random time on a random road in Mombasa a man pushes his mkokoteni (wheel cart) and shouts 'Maaaali Maaaali, Maaaali Maaaali'. On hearing this some ladies living in the vicinity come out of their houses with a wad of old clothes. The mali mali exchanges new items (mostly crockery) for old clothes.

A typical scenario would include a lady demanding 6 bowls instead of 5 for the 2 pair of trousers and 5 shirts she gave away. The mali mali would then complain on the condition of the clothes and as they're haggling perhaps a nearby beggar runs away with anything he can grab. This exciting form of barter trade pleases all. The children even come out in hopes of persuading their parent to get a a toy as one of the returns.

Growing up it was a fascinating scheme to witness. I do wonder where they have all disappeared to. It's been forever since I last saw them.

Back from blogger's block and Edinburgh

I wondered how to kill the silence on my blog after the long gap and to be honest each time I started to write something it ended up with a few words forcefully put together which was a sore sight.I finished exams last month and took a trip to Edinburgh.

Shops selling lambswool blankets and kilts, Haggas being advertised on chalk boards outside restaurants and bagpipes playing in the background are mostly what to expect on a walk down the narrow cobblestone streets of the city. An Edinburgh inhabitant will tell you a Haggas is an animal which lives on the mountains which has one leg shorter then the other for ease to climb up the mountain, but one wonders what would happen to the poor animal if it wished to go downhill. lol. Turns out it's a meal with goat stomach stuffed with don't know what.

Edinburgh Castle

There is the Royal mile, which is a road that stretches from the Edinburgh castle to the palace of Holy rood house. In between is the writer's museum (dedicated to the works of Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott and Robert Stevenson), St Giles cathedral, museum of childhood, Scottish parliament and others which have escaped my mind.

St.Giles Cathedral

Palace of Holyroodhouse

And lastly the city is surrounded by innumerable hills which are marvelous for hiking. I painstakingly managed to climb up Arthur's seat which happens to be only 250m. Hmm..seems like I need to hike more often.

View from Arthur's seat

surviving the math blues..

It's that time of the year when I try to disconnect myself from a lot of things in the name of 'revision'. Whilst studying time reversal, the quote below was the only thing that made sense, the rest all seems gibberish.

"The world around us is irreversible. If you were to run a film of a physical process backwards, you would immediately know that the film is running backwards, since you would see processes which never occur in the natural world. For example, if you drop a rock in the pond, the rock sinks to the bottom and its energy is converted into the energy of the water molecules as a result of the collisions of the rock with the water molecules. Running a film of this process backwards, you would first see a calm pond with a rock sitting at the bottom, then the rock would begin to rise, accelerating, and finally flying out of the pond, as a result of water molecules bombarding the rock. This never happens. But could it happen? Does it violate any dynamic principle? Heat flows from a hot object to a cold one, never the other way. Everyone gets older, but no one gets younger. We remember the past, but do not know the future. The macroscopic world, consisting of enormous numbers of molecules, in the form of Newton's laws or Langrange's equations, are reversible in time. For every allowed motion there is a revered motion which is also allowed. And this continues to hold in quantum-mechanical theories. So why don't we ever see those reversed motions?"

-Joel Lebowitz

....All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put humpty together again...

Jumbled words

'Olny srmat poelpe can raed tihs.cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!'

Itnestring mial I've Riceved mnay tmeis, Thuohgt of pttuing it to the tset by wrtiing a wlohe psot in jmulbed wrods.

So fnillay smoe paece in Kneya. Lsat Week a Keyann wkleey nwesppaer dscilosed the raeson for the qiuck aecctpacne of btoh sdies of the paece dael. Condeleezza Rice snet a trhaetening ltteer to Kibaki and Raila. The ltteer aksed if they knew Saddam Hussein. Saddam had a rat hloe, she qesituenod if they had one. Kibaki was wrnaed his aessts wuold be forzen and he wuold be held aouccanbtle for cirmes of Gecinode. Fruethr a sihp of mranies was alraedy dokced in Mombasa. One wnoders waht interests tihs cuontry has in Kenya...

I nveer thuoght I wulod mneiotn rcie in 2 cnoseutcvie psots. Tihs psot, athluogh unciivllzied, was a pealsnat way to wirte.

Free rice

www.freerice.com

WARNING: This game may make you smarter. It may improve your speaking, writing, thinking, grades, job performance...

The little terrorist

Jamal, a Pakistani Muslim, crosses the India-Pakistan fence to fetch his cricket ball..
[The first few seconds is blank]

Wimbo wa Miti - The Song of the Trees

This poem is an allegory in which trees play the roles of Women from Lamu who have some misunderstandings. It is an oral tradition translated by Joseph Mbele from swahili.

Jana niwene kisa adhimu
Yesterday I witnessed a notable episode
tena tafusirini walimu
And will you, the experts, explain it;
Miti ya li kipijana mtende tina mdimu
Trees were fighting, the date-palm and the lime tree

Hima ukaya mbiyo mpwera
Promptly the guava tree came running,
Nyuma muembe una hasira
And close behind it the furious mango tree,
Mzabibu ukisema kunyamaa ni ujura
While the grapevine declared: 'Passivity is stupidity.'

Mara ukadhihiri mtesi
Suddenly the mtesi* appeared
sura zina ushi una kasi
Its face full of impatience and intensity
Ukiwambiya mpwera kwetu hakuna rakhisi
And it told the guava tree, 'With us there is no easy way.'

Papo ukaya mpili pili
There and then came the pepper plant
Hapo ukinena kwa ukali
And it was speaking angrily
Ukiapa kwa ziyapo miti pia siijali
And swearing with oaths: 'I don't give a damn for trees!'

Punde wasiyesa kani zao
Before their fury was spent,
Nde wawene mti uyao
They saw, outside, a tree coming,
Nao ni mberemende una panga na ngao
And it was the mberemende**, armed with sword and shield:

Zita hatuchi twapo uwawa
'War we fear not, though we get killed,
Uta na zembe tume tukuwa
For with bow and arrows we are armed.'
Mbuyu ulipopita uka simama kwa muwa
When the baobab tree passed by, it stopped to mediate

Hela watani yenu mayowe
'Come, now, cease your noisy squabbling;
tela bure asiwazuzuwe
Let not Tela confound you
Kuna mti unahila humshinda kitunguwe
There is a tree more cunning than Hare

Shina la mambo haya nayuwa
The stem of these things I know;
Sawa nimezi ye kutambuwa
Very well have I realized it.
Muyungu ndio fitina waloalisha mauwa
The pumpkin plant is the agitator that has called forth these blossoms.'

---

* The swahili believe mtesi is a branch/leaf which should never be brought to the house or conflicts will arise.
** No idea what that means