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Tuesday, 21 January 2014


 Should we shun them?

should our attitudes change towards them?

 are we bringing down another Sodom and Gomorrah?

or maybe it is the society that has failed in general for failing to provide clear guidelines for our approaches toward homosexualism?

I wouldn't say I understand what being a person of orient is , but then again, I did not grow up  in a society where we shun or praise being oriented....

 what would you do if your sister, best friend, brother, cousin, and or parent came out of the closet and confessed to you???

 would you burn them??

run away maybe??

would your former relations be affected so greatly that you decide to demonize them????

Following is a link to Binyavanga Wainaina's story 'coming out':

Tuesday, 3 December 2013


This is the last part of my 3 part series. It is my sincere hope that you will enjoy this piece.

''Of all the creatures that creep and breathe on earth, none is more wretched than man''- Homer.


I did not cry but my mind was going crazy. I questioned God as to why he would let this happen to me, how I was always trying to live right by him following his word, by not engaging in sexual relations with women and even though I slept with a man outside marriage that was not something I did like, besides I had always tried to use protection and when I didn’t it was with someone I trusted. I was angry with myself, pained - so ashamed and full of disgust. I was abashed of going out with my friends, if any one knew and told my family or told other people that would have killed me.

For that matter I wished I was already dead. I thought about my crushed future ambitions, hopes and expectations. I ate and slept worrying about the quality and length of life I still had to live. How many more days? Maybe tomorrow I’d wake up sick and die.

            For a whole month Ardea persuaded and encouraged me to seek counseling for I could not survive for long doing this on my own, that it was important for me to be in a support group, to see and meet other people living with Hiv from whom I’d derive strength to even start treatment.

Within a month I had started losing weight; I felt sickly and was scared I was going to die. I agreed to let Ardea take me to the care Centre where I saw a counselor, started treatment and signed up for a weekly support group. Ardea was running a discordant couple support group at a local NGO where she worked - Ivanna was a member. She had been a Teacher on Practice (TP) where I attended my high school, All Divine Girls High School and she was one of my favorite teachers.
Ardea fuelled the re-union. That was when Ivanna told me she was HIV positive and I told her my story too. She was so pro-life, I admired her charisma and the way she smiled and carried along her life so normal while I constantly battled within me to end mine if only to see God face to face and find out what he had to say.

            “Today people with HIV should take a central role in Kenya, within their county, region and locality in the delivery of Hiv/Aids services and programs. Their involvement gives personal power and immediacy to the national response, improves the relevance of programs and inspires others to action. I shall be counted as one of those people!” I echoed loudly in the auditorium full of my fellow students as well as from other public varsities, clapping hard and jeering loudly as I finished my speech.

I slowly descended the stairs, aware that this was just the beginning. It was as if someone had breathed new life in me. I sat next to Ivanna and Ardea the two women who had made all these possible.
‘I have to pick her up’ I muttered.

“Nini mbaya babe?” (“What’s wrong babe?”) Ardea inquired.
               I jerked into my senses now aware she had been standing there all along. “Nothing, it’s just smoke from the firewood” I said. She reached out and kissed my lips gently. The text message news would have to wait…...

Friday, 29 November 2013


I decided to take a break from all the madness that technology has brought to us. Technology was invented by man yet we have become slaves of it. I survived 6 hours if not 5hours without any access however of any technology.

My oh  my!!!! they were the longest hours of my existence.
Incase you are wondering what I was doing ... well I was at the Dentists having a root it occurred to me if they can afford to construct a CANDY CRUSH SAGA REHAB CENTRE why not create one SOCIAL MEDIA REHAB CENTRES.
If you don't think that its necessary take a look at this;

Wednesday morning:
2.30 am-  Wake up check what's app messages and reply them all

3.00 am- Log in to face book, check my notifications, reply where necessary

3.15 am- Check my face book inbox while replying to the received messages

3.30 am-  Look at the friend requests; accept some, reject some, ignore others, block and reject

3.45 am- Comment on friends status and if not strike a conversation with those still awake like me

4.00 am- Go to the page of  my crush and look through his photos and posts ( after all they wont notice)

5.00 am- Oh crap I got thirty minutes left of the 8 recommended

5.15 am- Sleep slowly creeps in...

5.30 am- Alarm clock rings for my waking up but then my eyelids are heavy to open so I mastered the SNOOZE technique, which I perfectly perform.


And so the cycle continues each and everyday and I am not sure when its going change.
Until then I promise to stay connected.


Tuesday, 5 November 2013


Hello every one. this is my part 2 of my 3 part series. This week is about being the best that you can be and utilizing what you got by making the best out of every thing. In this case making Gold out of Rubbish.
Ladies and Gentlemen.......( part 2)

"There are a number of mechanical devices which increase sexual arousal, particularly in women. Chief among these is the Mercedes-Benz 380SL convertible." (P. J. O'Rourke)


I thought it was safer that way “unlike the campus boys they don’t have time to pester you for meaningless sex after buying only a drink or two” my friend Brianna had said; besides they had more money and wives and kids to worry about.

            Soon I had a car and an apartment all financed by different men but it was not long before people started scrutinizing my morality. I was called ‘Malaya’ (prostitute) by my family and gold-digger by my peers. So I stopped dating the married men for all the good reasons - I needed to concentrate on my studies. Around that time I met Aziz and even though he was married, he was young, fun and had a well-paying job. We would go out drinking on the weekends and spend the night together. We talked about our future, the way immediately after my final exams, he would build me a house on some land he had purchased for me, and about how he’s going to marry me as his second wife and we would have a child together thereafter – But then deep inside my heart I knew that’s not what I dreamt of or rather what I really wanted for myself.  But then did I have an option! I had already engaged into sexual acts several times with only this particular guy and it was getting serious for I’d started taking regular contraception and he’d ditched the condom. What was there to worry about? He loved me and wanted to marry me soon. Isn’t that what the society prefers, a marriage between a man and a woman? I kept telling myself.

             On school break I went home but fell very ill until I had to be admitted to hospital for a month with diarrhea and consistent migraines, but the doctor said they could not find the cause even after several tests. My mum said it was ‘chira’ (the bad eye) from villagers who were jealous since my mums’ family was doing well she gave me some herbs to chew on. As soon as I got well I went back to school. Later on the weekend I broke-up with Aziz because I had heard he had been involved with other girls in my absence, plus he did not even bother to visit me at the hospital.

             I became engulfed with my studies and even joined the Sexual Health Advocacy group where I spent most of my free time. “It is not that serious, it mainly affects homosexuals and people usually from Mombasa and Western Kenya.” We had a debate surrounding this theory on Hiv/Aids later we would have a lecturer present on Hiv/Aids. “The number of Hiv positive females between the 10-24 years bracket outnumbers the men in the same bracket….” I listened keenly to Prof. Wellington, cold sweat descended from my armpits.

I would later go to the bathroom to inspect myself thoroughly in the mirror to see if I could recognize any of the Hiv/Aids symptoms I had seen on the slides. I felt relieved as none of the men I had dated had these signs too. It was in the Sexual Health Advocacy group that I met Ardea; she was one of the speakers on Sexual Orientation Gender Identity (SOGI), strikingly beautiful and a lesbian. I pursued her endlessly until she carved in and accepted a date. She was a counselor by profession.

              It was not long before she convinced me to have an Hiv/Aids test, so on one lazy Sunday afternoons, lying on her bed she produced a test kit and proceeded to prick herself and me. We had talked so much on Hiv/Aids that when she asked my reaction if the test turned out positive I said I’d obviously seek treatment. Her results turned out negative while mine were positive. 

Thursday, 24 October 2013


I am a strong believer in free will. We all have free will. Therefore, for one to say that they did something out of peer pressure (forgive my use of foul language) is BULL SHIT!!!!
But then, what happens when something you thought happens only in the west is close to you than you anticipated?
HOMOPHOBIA is a term that has recently caught up fast in our daily simple Kenyan lives. Do we shun the homosexuals, bisexuals, transgender, lesbians, and gay in our society? or, should we embrace them and make all sorts of hullabaloo to support their actions despite us demonizing their sole existence in broad day light???
What will happen if you realized that your sister, brother, best friend, child, tutor, priest, doctor, architect, engineer, public relations officer, your boss, is a homosexual???
Will your life come to a halt???

In this first blog I will share a story I came across and at the end of my 3part series, you will be your own judge....


         “Morning, I have been in hospital since yesterday. I underwent caesarian section but unfortunately our son did not make it.” I read the text message from *Angel again. Only last week I had taken her shopping in preparation for the newborn. Her CD4 was at 510, she was on ARV’s, which I know she had been taking faithfully - her handbag even smelt like a chemist! She ate right when she could afford it and I had never seen her bargain with the bottle. Her boyfriend had risked infection to impregnate her. You see she really wanted this baby. I sat staring intensely at the cooking pot blackened evenly from ages of boiling water on the firewood, unable to control the tears flowing steadily down my cheeks.

Unalia nini? (Why are you crying?) ……….

           I was in so much pain that I could not bring myself to eat my dinner. I had hardly touched my breakfast when the school principal had sent word that she needed to see me immediately at her office. Upon reaching, she gave me a letter addressed to my mum and gave me 10min to leave school. On my way home I read the letter and carefully sealed it back in the envelope. “*All Divine Girls High School values are strongly against lesbianism and as so cannot condone such behaviors from your daughter.” Its content was shattering. This time round my mum would certainly kill me! This was the second school and the fourth time I had been suspended for sexual relations with girls. Word has a very fast way of travelling in the village, such that when mum, a policewoman started raining blows on me as soon as I walked in the house I knew news had leaked, probably from some of the teachers leaving in the village. After two weeks she took me back to school and pleaded with the principal to allow me back so I’d sit for my final National Examination which was a week away. I passed well and was admitted to a university in the town. I was happy, at least that meant being away from home and its stringent rules.

           As it is I was quickly absorbed into partying hard with friends, drinking and smoking. In no time I had fully mastered the art of fulfilling the psychological needs of men by simply stroking their egos. In return I got money, more night outs with good company, gifts - little things that a girl needs. As soon as the guys would start demanding for sex I would find a way to break up the relationship. The game grew old as most of them cracked my trick. At that time none of my close friends was a virgin there was no way I would let them know I was one queer one. I sunk deeper into hiding and started dating older married men.
N.B: *names have been changed to avoid prejudice.