Whatever happens. They are still family.

Once in a while I am required to visit my aunty who made the life of my sister and I horrible when we were young. She is still horrible but we are older and we can handle her. 

Yet I am surprised I am able to stand her and I am surprised with how much my family have to stand each other for the name of family. 

My rural home is like a close neet neighborhood who lands were divided between them and they build homes next door to each other and family gatherings where they all unite and have meals and underneath it all…

They all had secrets. 

You would never know the grandmother I hug and watch her have a hearty conversation with my Aunty. Never knowing this grandmother abused this Aunty when she was young and was also the woman who molested this Aunties brothers. 

Yet they cook a meal and drinks with fellow cousins and everything is buried. 

Not knowing that once upon a time I cried when my grandfather died he had continuously raped my mom and her big sister when they were young. 

They all moved on not forgetting but they had no one to turn to. No one knows and if they knew at that time nothing would have happened. It was kept a secret…

It completely makes me understand why most of the women in my family are bitter women. They are very bitter women who have never gotten any kind of justice and they can’t because family is family. What can you do? 

I do not have that kind of strength to stomach it like they did. They go and make a meal for a man who molested them. They laugh with their wives and their children. They pay medical fees for them. Help them. Because of family. 

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This post is random. I as a Kenyan and African in the East African. What I want most is for our soldiers to get out of Somalia. With the assumption that they are there to keep the peace. we all know that is bullshit. 

They are our neighbors and we better sort our shit out and stay out of their country and wait until they need out help but the fact that soldiers are there? So many? 

I care a lot for the well being of those unprotected women who can’t speak out and once again if you try and say our soldiers are not somehow doing something messy over there then you are something else.

My friend asked “who cares about what’s happening over there? Do you? Kenya is safe because our armies are there”. I was wounded. If she has such a mentality. Then perhaps most Kenyans. 

Why are we getting attacks? What did some of out people do to warrant such attacks. That should be the question asked. 

Following up To my Hair Alterations.

Yesterday I posted about my discion to have my hair locked. Sisterlocs. You should have seen how excited I was and I Started searching for how it would cost and right after I simply just stopped having hope. 

The cost for sisterlocs are bloody expensive. 

Sure I would have asked for cash from my mom but not 20k people. I can’t even try and open my mouth to try and even utter the words ‘mom…I need 20k’. 

Sisterlocs are the kind of styles that you dig into your own pocket and pay it. Money that I will have it when I am 30. Perhaps at that time. I will have 20k pocket cash to use however I please but now I don’t even know what to do to have that kind of cash as pocket money. 

Everybody meaning my friends and bro all were cool and like me when they heard the price. They were like “what the hell?” 

My Sisterloc dreams crashed before they even started. I ain’t going to dish out 20k…right now.

What do I do to motivate myself? “Perhaps when I am 30 the prices will have dropped.”

That is what I say. I have got six years to save and hope prices will drop in this six years.

I am moving on to other styles to try on my head. 

More hair altering choices. 

I thought I was done with life changing choices. Like cutting my hair. Now I have decided on locking my hair. 

Sisterlocs. 

Yes thanks to Pinterest once again. I am trying to find out how much it will cost to install one and make the plunge. After cutting my long hair. I am no longer scared of taking big risks with it. I am going to do it and try and hustle money from my bro or mum. I am a freeloader and at my age. Asking money is harder. It’s called true hustling and I have the best argument. I am locking my hair. They will not hear from me…a lot. This is what put me into the box. 

I want that…so bad. *sigh*. I’ll get back to you once I have taken the dive. 

Dear Future husband.

I will want a lot from you a lot in the future but please…please…be a strong man who speaks up when something is wrong and steps forward to do something. 

I need you to be able to stand up to my mom. You see she is a narcissistic woman who loves getting her way and if it is not her way then she will say that you bewitched me or something.

And also…please, I hope your mom isn’t as batshit crazy as mine and too add. Please let’s make money and buy her a house and someone to take care of her when she is getting old. I am not planning on sending my mom to an elderly institution. Granted you are an African man…please. I have enough relatives issues in mine, I kinda hope you have a small family.

My grandmother had 8 sisters and a brother. So I have like 50…aunties and uncle’s.( My mother’s sisters are also batshit crazy like m mom.) so you should imagine if they get married and have kids. I can’t keep up with how many cousins I have and that’s just from my moms side. I have 50 cousins on my dad’s side. So I really can’t keep up with more large extended family if you  exist.

I’ll stay single if you are the type that involves his issues to the other relatives congregation.

Give me a heads up.

My Melanin, My Insecurities…

You might think African women have no insecurities about their skin color then you are in for a surprise.

How African’s perceive beauty is what makes everyone else more sub conscious about their skin color. No one wants to be dark. It has come to that point that when they describe someone dark, they use “she is almost Sudanese black”.

I have got neighbours, had class mates who were Sudanese and they have a complexion close to Purple. Dark purple and imagine if I constantly berated about my skin color how about them? I do it. I just did it now.

Kids are mean. They don’t know their names but identity them as ” Akina Sudanese” (the sudanese Guys) Not by their names and after they have gone I am suddenly overwhelmed by the guilt of not correcting my nephew. Telling him to go ask their names. 

I am in a country where they identify you by your tribe. If you don’t mention your Mother or fathers name then based on your complexion they will unconciously put you on a category. 

(“Anaka Mkamba”)(“she looks like a kamba”) but I grew up and wondered why I felt humiliated and angry when they thought of me as a Jaluo. I wanted to scratch my skin out. I remember joining college and there was this girl so tall, slender and I almost turned lesbian for her. She was so beautiful. She was a Jaluo and I came out of that prejudiced opinion that I had formed. 

That darkness doesn’t mean ugly. 

Brown skin is the popular skin color to be and the pointy. (“Pointy in which I don’t know how it even means what it means. Pointy is what we refer to Interracial babies.) The ones who you know one of their Parents are White or Arab or Asian…etc.

You will find most women just sleep with them foreign men just to have their beautiful babies…and before we know it. We are all going to be yellow skinned. 

The skin issue has gotten to the point of bleaching. Now those that do it are stupid on another level because you will discover they bleached their faces, neck and arms and perhaps forgot about their legs. 

There is this crave to not be dark and I still feel insecure about it but I am slowly starting to love this complexion of mine. 

But like when I say “I am fat” I didn’t mean I was ugly just fat. So when I say I am dark, don’t tell me that I am Still pretty like you need to console me.

Taking a break from looking pretty.

The big chop is not for everyone and i am taking a break from looking pretty.

You should the see the amount of selfies i have taken. None. What is making it worse?

I got this job at an auto spare shop where i just have this overalls that just perfectly fits me in with the other men, disregarding the fact that i am a total girl who loves all things pink and purple and cries aaaa lot in movies and as well talks in them. Loves romance books, i am such a girl, to my dainty soft hands. How i got this job is beyond me. Thank heavens i do not do the hard work. I am busy writing delivery’s and invoices, receipts. Taking the cash.

When people come to buy some second hand spare parts they blink twice when i speak because. Hey! i am girl. What made you aware?

Oh i don’t know. Your curiously very soft tiny voice resembling like a child. I am having an identity crisis here. I am considering going to job all grunged up in baggy jeans and a big hoodie and peeling my sparkly studs out but my voice will just destroy my character.

Anyway. As long as my 24 year old body stays where i work and my hairstyle? my disaster big chop. I’ll just take a huge break from looking pretty.

and you know what kills my buzz? No hot men to drool at, you know? Like those steamy romance books i read with hot men resembling Vikings. *sigh*