When the other woman becomes the other woman

Most of my life I have always hated Camilla. Yes the 'future queen'.

I always looked at her as the other woman, the woman who wrecked Diana's marriage, the mistress. She had nothing Diana had, beauty, charisma, the list is long. But didn't she meet Charles before Diana? Didn't Charles say he was in love with her long before and after Diana? Hadn't she at some point also looked at Diana as the other woman?

Imagine for one second that Charles and Camilla had gotten a child before he met Diana. Imagine also that Camilla and Diana were good friends, close friends and that Camilla introduced Diana to Charles as a friend, and that Diana, being the woman she was, used her feminine charms to get Charles, then slept with him coz she felt that Camilla didn't deserve him. Imagine too, Camilla kicked Charles out and that Charles went to live with Diana, not married, but cohabited for almost 10 years. Then Charles decided that Diana was not the woman, that Camilla was, just like he decided in real life when he accepted publicly that Camilla was the love of his life and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. And imagine that Camilla accepted Charles back into her life, just like she did only that it took Charles more than 7 years to win Camilla back, and imagine that Charles and Camilla got married in the end, just like they did, except in this case, there was no Parker Bowles, and lastly, imagine that Diana lived to see Charles and Camilla's wedding.

I so much feel like Camilla right now, and although I was so bitter with the Diana who did all the above and my Charles for lowering his standards coz my Diana was not pretty and had no charisma, right now she also thinks of me as the other woman.

Recover all

I finally found my Mr Maua.

On 21st April, the man I fell in love with 18 yrs ago, the father of my child and the one I dreamt that would let me complete him finally got into my life, fully.

To the Man upstairs, I just wanna thank You for Your completion. 2011 was the year of pursuing and 2012 became the year of recovering all, 1 Sam 30:18.

I THANK YOU LORD FOR YOUR FAITHFULNESS.

Dear Valentine

Dear Valentine

You thought you whisper to my ears, but the whispers instead talk to my heart. You kiss my soul every time I give you my lips. Thank you dear Valentine, for in you I see things I was blinded to. Thank you for letting me see the world in you.

Your Valentino

Lived nightmares can have a hope.

I was in my mid 20s, at an age when I aspired a place in the world of young professionals when I met an influential relative who would turn my love dreams into lived nightmares in the hope of ending with 'happily ever after'.

It was my brothers birthday party and honestly, my mind was too occupied by events to even notice him. This was the first time I saw him, but I do not think I gave him a second thought that night. He went home in the wee hours of the morning and scribbled something in his heart's diary, in the lines of 'TODAY I MET THE GIRL OF MY DREAMS'. 18 yrs on I am still in his dreams. There have been 2 proposals, both 17 yrs apart, a son and a 16 yr separation. For a good fraction of that 16 years both of us have dreamt of killing each other. We have both done things in our own rights only to be haunted by their results years later. We both felt justified that our actions were getaways to entering new chapters of our separate lives, but....., God always has a wicked sense of humour.

On 31st Dec, both our families gathered for a negotiation aka 'uthoni'. My son has his father back, an 11 yr old brother and I am just about asking Kenny Lattimore and Chante Moore if they will help me say 'When I say I do'.

Learning Kenyan

For the first three years of my mid teenage son's life we communicated in Kikuyu, my mother tongue, and only Kikuyu. A few people were a bit apprehensive, like my brothers, but he is my son. I caused several times when they spoke English to him, or when he responded in English. Being born in UK, and with no immediate plans of relocating to Kenya he was going to learn the queen's language anyway. Kikuyu was going to give him a sense of identity and belonging, not to mention having a medium of a private conversation with him in public, or a language I could threaten him, 'eterera tukinye mucii' (wait we get home).

Two weeks to his third birthday, I had to leave for Kenya to care for my mum, and what I thought was a short stay lasted for nine months. I came back to find a chatterbox and my hard work had gone down the drain. My chatterbox son did not speak a word of Kikuyu, courtesy of my brothers. But he was well taken care of.

Last Christmas, my son and I went to Kenya. It was his first time ever, and he hated 16 of the 20 days we were there (the 4 were spent in Malindi).

To my surprise, he picked so many words, but they are all Kenyan. Uka haha, oriti, wacha ujinga, poa, tugende, ninguukuna, barikiwa, shindwe, wi mwega, habari, misi, I have no idea which language to concentrate on. I only speak Kikuyu and Kiswahili. I hate Sheng.

But I'm glad the interest to learn Kenyan is there. I can also proudly report that my son has come from being a Gikuyu, Kenyan, English, British and back to Kenyan.