27 December 2015


A few days ago, I remember asking myself what to write for the last month of the year. I went through the posts I have done in December over the years (check them out by the way…I don’t know what is it that comes over me during December), and I couldn’t help but wonder what to write about. I thought about doing a yearly review and all the shenanigans like I did here. I almost wrote something cliché about sijui 12 lessons learnt in 2015, or 15 lessons to carry forward from 2015, or even 2015; the ups and the downs. At some point I  contemplated summarizing the year in a piece but I remembered a conversation Daisy and I had a few weeks ago about people writing pieces that don’t make sense or don’t communicate and kept that piece tucked tightly between pages of my notebook.

So, three days later…I still did not know what to write about, or how to end the year 2015 on Njeri Kareithi. I skimmed through my drafts on my computer; nothing. Flipped through my notebook that I carry around to note down ideas based on observations wherever I go; nothing. Then I remembered this one time in campus where we were preparing for a play. See, I was part of a drama club in campus, but we had not done anything major other than mimes. Now, the one thing that I loved about mimes is that you don’t get to talk. And we used to wear masks so…you don’t even get to look your audience in the eye. But plays, my friend…you have to talk. And not only talk, but you have a face to face conversation with the audience. Now, those are the parts I wished we could skip (but that would not be a play; would it?).

My history with crowd phobia can be traced back to my high school years. Crowd phobia is not to be confused with shyness. No. I am not shy; but I have crowd phobia. Get me a face to face meeting with 5-10 people and you will take home an image of a very sociable, funny, fun to be around (is this what blowing my own trumpet means?) person. Get me in front of 50+ people and my eyes will not leave either the ground or the ceiling. To make things worse, I was appointed a senior prefect in my last year of high school. If you are familiar with Kenya’s High Schools, prefects get to make remarks during the morning parade, especially the prefects on duty, who would make announcements and call out the names of those who have not done their morning duties. And boy did I hate my week of duty. But we survived anyway. Where was I? Yes, crowd phobia.

So here we are, we are debuting a play in campus. We have been rehearsing, for months. The script is good. During rehearsals, we are alone in the hall so it goes on smoothly. I was playing a part that required me to make several costume changes and several long appearance and conversations. So, all was well. I was very excited. There was excitement in my voice each time I mentioned the play to my fellow comrades. Till d-day came. And the curtains were closed. Backstage; we are laughing and eating, teasing each other about our costumes waiting for the MC to welcome the audience. We take our positions on stage and my body freezes. You know, when you are back stage, you have no Idea how many people are on the other side of the curtain. So my brain starts freaking out when I start thinking about the audience. My bladder thinks that it’s time to start playing games. It’s too late. The scene starts in less than a minute. I can’t run outside for a call (pun intended) to help me calm down. I look at other member of the cast. “Why aren’t they freaking out?” “How many years of acting experience do they have?” “What did they eat?” “Haven’t we been acting with masks together?” “Is my make-up melting?” “Is my costume too tight?” “Will so and so be in the audience?” I remember asking all these questions.

Bam! The curtain opens. I get to see the size of the audience. Suddenly I feel like my bladder will just give in. I take a deep breath and the play starts. Play runs well. Towards the end, a cast-mate noticed I have been holding my breath almost the whole time. We are doing our last bow at the end. “Breathe Dee, Breathe” He says while giving a nod of assurance. Curtains come down. I take another deep breath.

Many a times when we are starting or ending anything we have so much anxiety and fear. When we think about the times ahead we are filled with fear. Fear of the unknown, as many would call it. But each time you feel like the world expects too much, like there is so much pressure, like you can’t to it. Breathe. As the curtains come down on 2015, some of us have screwed up so many times, we have messed up so many times, there is so much expectation from people around us, there is so much pressure from around. But as the curtains come down; breathe. Take a deep breath, smile and say “I’ve got this. Bring it on”.

See you all in 2016, readers of Njeri Kareithi. Happy Holidays and be safe.

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi

Twitter: @deekareithi

21 December 2015


…so, did you fantasize? Did you see it like it was yours?

Are you serious? Did I do what? hahahaha” I ask with this look on my face as if that can never happen in real life.

Yes I am, did you?

A few days ago I was attending a wedding where two of my childhood friends were getting married. And this festive season all around us; well one can say love was in the air. So, it is evening…and this good friend calls to ask how my day was. There I
am blurting about how the clothes, shoes, bridesmaids, cake, how the kids I was carrying were adorable and how we were singing along to some songs with the matron of honor (well, it’s been long since I attended or participated in a wedding so this was really refreshing). I finish my side of the story and ask about his, which he shares quite interestingly since he was participating in another. Towards the end of the conversation he asks if I fantasized. I remember laughing and laughing, almost uncontrollably in the section of the conversation up there. Like, I know it’s the festive season, people are with loved ones, people are cuddling and holding hands all over, “I love you” messages and actions are all around and it’s the time of the year when you are reminded of how being away from a loved one can be devastating. Oh, and visiting that grandmother who keeps reminding you that she has two school buses ready and waiting for me to tell her to get people ready, makes it all worse. So, maybe  I did, maybe I did not hahaha.

Okay, but that is not my point. Thing is, during this festive season, there is so much love around. Like real and genuine love. Husbands spending time with families, wives spending time at home and not work, kids away from school and playing around the house, nobody is at work (except those who work in very sensitive areas like doctors, bankers, supermarket attendants, chefs…you know, those who we would die without), and comfortingly…families and homes are filled with laughter and joy. And food. And Sunshine. And conversations. Oh how I wish everyday was Christmas.

So all along I have been asking myself; why does this have to happen on Christmas and/or New Year’s or during holidays? If there is a time I see people genuinely show love is during festive seasons. It reminds me of a conversation I had with my mentor a few years ago, and he was saying how he pities our generation, because we all want to be loved but don’t want to love. Like so many of us want something that lasts forever but are not willing to do what is takes? I mean…we all have been in love once and we all let go at some point, we have all gotten heart broken…but really, what if we all loved? Like genuinely loved? The kind of loving that makes us look forward to the future? That kind of love that makes us say “I know he/she is not perfect but there is not another being under the heavens that I would rather be with”. The kind of love that makes us say “no matter what is happening, I will keep this love pure and keep working on it”. 

source: www.pixlabay.com
I know every day cannot be Christmas…but what if we faithfully loved? In a generation where there is little or not much genuine love, in a generation that wants things that are already complete and people who are already established, in a generation that lives by the “let me fool around…when the time comes I will be serious” kind of attitude, in a generation that seemingly does not know how to love; what if we learnt how to love? What if we became students of love?  The hard-working, appreciative, full of gratitude, kind, reliable and consistent love? And who better to learn from than Christ? What if we sat down with elder people who have experienced this kind of love and learn from them? What if we genuinely cared and loved the less fortunate, the elderly, and the orphans? Would we lose anything? 

What if we did it for our families, relationships, companies, ourselves? What if we did it #ForMyCity and for humanity? What if we started today (and sustained it)? What if we did it #ForMyCity and for humanity? After all, love makes the world go round (refer to power puff girls’ song “love makes the world go round" lol).

Dear readers of Njeri Kareithi, this post marks the end of the “What if” series. You can read about the others here. The series was inspired by a theme by dubbed #ForMyCity led by Poetry Spot. (Follow the conversation here). Love was the last in the series because all the other attributes, when love is added, make a complete person (flaws and all). Not perfect, but complete. I urge us all (me included), to take up the challenge and join me as we strive to make these attributes part and parcel of who we are.

"So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love." 1st cor 13:13 (ESV)

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi
Twitter: @deekareithi

30 November 2015


It’s a Saturday evening, the clouds are so dark; you can search all over and never find even an African so dark (lol). This means only one thing. The heavens are heavily pregnant, ready to rain down and rain hard on un-expecting humans. We have just come from eating a 4 kg 4-layered cake at a friend’s graduation party…the taste that the cake left is still with me. A friend and I are chatting our way to town in the cool and quiet evening.

Aki kutanyesha (It’s going to rain)” there is a worried look on my face as I touch my recently blow-dried mane.

Hakutanyesha…I am not a rain maker but chill uone, hakutanyesha (No it won’t rain…. I’m not a rain maker but just wait and see)” he says amid laughter.

Uko sure? (Are you sure?)” (Lately I have been asking this alot…but that’s another day’s tale)

“Yes…trust me.”

And so I did. And instead of taking a ride to another friend’s place…we decided to walk. Evening walks are one of my favorite things to do…especially with good company :-) . So we walk. And what goes well with walking…especially on such a cool evening? Talking. And so we talked. We talked about almost everything…from scripture…spiritual lives, lame jokes, a few adventures in the timeline, business opportunities (ha-ha yes…this had to be there) and how life in general was. 

source: www.pixabay.com

When we arrived at this other friend’s house for dinner, music and laughter (yes, that is how dinner is served...with music and laughter), I remember just thinking about how the long weekend (thank you pope…a four day weekend was just what some of us needed. I don’t think I can ever repay you…literally) had been. I remember thinking about the laughter and joy we were sharing over a meal. I remember thinking how this brother from another mother (hahah yes..he is family, sorry to burst your bubble), had sacrificed so much for me, picking me up when I arrived late at night (coz traveling at night is so much fun), even bringing along a gift, accompanying me to an event that he did not even know anyone, bringing us lunch…checking on us, ensuring we arrived home safely. And I had not even said thank you. How ungrateful of me…right? 

Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Now, remember that story where a king and servant went out to hunt and the servant’s hand was cut off and then the next time the servant went hunting he left the king and he met man-eating humans who could only eat “whole” people? Yes? The one where he was spared despite the fact that he was mad at his king for chopping his arm earlier? Well, I don’t know if that story happened in real life but this is the point they were trying to put across: Be grateful no matter what happens to you, because everything happens for a purpose. At times thins go so south *is there such a thing as down south?* that all we see are the bad things in life; and this creates a negative attitude and resentment in our hearts.

Friends, as the year comes to an end in a few days (yey Christmas), I can’t help but look back at the year and see how many times I have been ungrateful. I have not said thank you enough. Maybe like me, you have also been through so much in the year that you see no need of being grateful. So many times we focus on the things that went wrong and forget those times, days or moments that went right. Remember that time you lacked and someone or God provided? Did you say thank you? Or did you think that you deserved it, that it was your right? Remember that time you were in need and someone sorted you out? Were you grateful for that? or did you assume that you deserved to be helped? Remember that time you were unwell and thought you would never live and you lived? Did you thank God for healing? Remember the last time you were in hospital? No? Does it occur to you be grateful for good health? Remember that person who is always there for you…who loves or sticks with you regardless of how hard it is to deal with you? Remember that person who loves you despite your flaws? Yes? No? Have you been showing gratitude to them?

Show me one person who is never grateful and how dull their lives are. Then show me one person who is ever grateful and how prosperous his life is…and how also they seem to attract good. I am a witness. For the past few months, the praise “Hallelujah” as been frequent on my lips and my heart; and things have been good.

source: www.christianglobe.com

What if we showed more gratitude? What if we started today? What if we did it #ForMyCity and for humanity? Are we going to wait until the year ends for us to start showing gratitude to family, friends and God? Start today…won’t you?

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi
Twitter: @deekareithi

(The campaign dubbed #ForMyCity led by Poetry Spot. Follow the conversation here)

5 November 2015


source: www.psywar.org
We are at war;
All of us.
Soldiers, warriors, victims,
With blood on knives, arrows, blades,
Trapped in the cages we call minds,
Bound by chains of false promise.
We hope, we wait.
Buildings go up in smoke.
Guns and bombs…silence and sobs.

We fight as they steal our freedom,
Sinking us deep in the sea of blood and tears,
“our bloody enemies are so close”.
We are at war.

Black trenches...black coats,
Black as their souls;
Black as the skin on their bodies;
Black as the burning blood they spill;
Black as the hands that carry the weapons;
Black as the people they kill.

We knew,  we knew all along
Yet we shut our ears.

To the cry of the orphan; we flouted.

The widow, the widower; we exposed.

The soldier, the child; we front-lined.
Dreams haunted by the oppression of war.
Violent men welcomed with pomp and glamour,
Peaceful men, who wore compassion as their amour,

We were at war.


Source: www.digitaljournal.com

16 October 2015


*wipes off dust and cobwebs from my Njeri Kareithi folder*

For my birthday, I got these three books from a friend. Sure; I also got other books from other friends but these ones stood out. I could see that they were part of a series and it really excited me. I did not notice it as first; but later as I was admiring them (am I the only one who admires new books all around at first?) I notice that they were not the first books in the series. Oh great! Out of the series of five, he got me #3, #4 and #5. Makes no sense; right? How would I start reading at #3? That’s like watching a movie from the middle. You would speculate what happened, but it would be just that. Speculation. Now, now now, where and how do I get one and two? I remember asking myself. It got me so disturbed for a few days till, like he had read my thoughts, he told me to look at the spine of the books. (I didn’t know what a spine of a book was till I goggled…and asked a friend too. I know you also didn’t know sooooo you’re welcome)

Found. Family. Forever.

That is what was written. I remember slapping myself on my face and smiling at the sweet thought.  We had grown to be such good friends in a short span of time that he could confidently say that he has found family forever. Yes, family. Because at times family is not necessarily those you are related to by blood, it is the people standing beside you when no one else is. People who can be relied on.

Fast forward a few weeks ago…this is how a conversation between me and my mentor (Much respect Sir) went;

Njeri Kareithi (I don’t know where he got the habit of calling me my maiden and sir name, but when anyone calls me that way, I know it is something serious), How are you?

I am fine Mr. Sec General (inside joke)”

I have been to your blog and you have not posted anything lately

uuummmm  you know…” I thought of a million excuses, including one that my keyboard is missing a letter which I might use frequently. Or the typical "the dog ate my drafts". Lame right?

*laughs*don’t make excuses, you need to be consistent…carry on with the way you have been consistent over the years

but bwana Sec General, you should not be reading my blog…you will know too much” I remember saying

*laughs* no, I thought that makes me a good mentor...

yeah, I am working on it.” I replied as I opened my Njeri Kareithi folder and searching for an incomplete poem that I needed to complete and post.

I am actually currently working on a poem

I will check soon and see...

First of all, I remember thinking to myself, why? why me Lord? Not that I write here to please anyone, don't get me wrong. But then I thought to myself that was actually a good call out. You see, many of the times we search for people who do things consistently. I mean, as human beings, we all long for consistency of some sort…be it that person who you know you can always lend to/borrow from because they keep their word, a person who you can always count on, something or someone that you know will be a constant.

Allow me to indulge you in some mathematics (wipe off that sneer you! How else will you know I majored in math/statistics). When something is constant in math, this means it remains the same, regardless of whatever happens around it or the changes over time. The figure never changes. This constant is best seen when all other factors are taken as zero. In math and statistics, this is usually referred to as the constant K (hope you learnt something new there lol). Now, back to real life. Someone or something consistent, according to the queen’s language, is (of a person, behavior, or process) unchanging in achievement or effect over a period of time.

What I have come to realize over time is that as humans, we all desire to have that consistency in life, you know, that security in knowing you can always count on someone or something. Over time, this consistency results to being reliable, trusted, dependable. To be able to be counted on. For this friend to tell me that he has found family forever was more than a complement. It however made me think a lot and this is the challenge I would like to pass over to y’all.

We all long for consistency and reliable things or people…right? But how reliable and/or consistent are we? Can someone say they can depend on you? Do we keep our word? Do we deliver on our promises? Or do we say one thing and do another? Have you ever told someone you will do something or you will take part in a certain activity then they go “yeah right” or “huyo tunamjua, ngoja tu utaona (that one, we know them well, just wait and see)" ? Can people count on us as much as we want to count on them? Are we reliable? Are we consistent? Can people say you are family to them?

What if we became consistent? What if we became reliable? What if we did it for ourselves, #ForMyCity and for humanity?

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi
Twitter: @deekareithi

 (The campaign dubbed #ForMyCity led by Poetry Spot. Follow the conversation here)

3 September 2015

In Case of Emergency by Barrack O (@bar_rack )

Now, now, now, before you start thinking that the POTUS wrote this, let me remind you to Keep Calm and read on. The author(bar_rack) *lol, notice how he plays around with his name? You, Judge Judy, gerrrarahia*, is one interesting being. 

Imagine that you are walking in town one Saturday afternoon. Either alone or with a friend in tow. Let’s assume the second option – you are strolling in town with a friend, W. You talk about the weather and how it’s been behaving. How the week was at work and at home. You talk about everything that you can possibly talk with your friend. Then, suddenly, in the middle of that you start feeling ill. At that moment you realize that there is something terribly wrong with your body and you cannot really figure it out. You assume and keep on talking. Suddenly your friend realizes there’s something terribly wrong, but they too are clueless. Things happen so fast that you start losing your sensory abilities – you cannot feel the spoon that’s in your hand and you fail to coordinate the digits on your hand but nothing. Before you know it, a sharp migraine fills your entire head causing you to slump on the table, weak and helpless.

Across the table your friend looks at you, helpless. Prodding with questions.

“How are you feeling?” W asks.

“Pins and needles,” you respond. Google that if you don’t know.

“You were just okay,” W says, confused. “What is up? Do you 
have anyone I can call?”

“I have to think,” you respond, gasping under the intense pain clouding your head.

Then you realize that you almost have nobody in your “In case of Emergency (ICE)” list. Then the wildest thoughts start swarming your head.

“What if I was alone and I collapsed in town?” A thought crosses your head.

The People in Our Lives

That’s what happened to me a few months ago. A small incident that shook me a lot. It made me think about the people I could reach out in case something goes awry and I needed someone to be there for me when I couldn’t help myself.

I was shaken because things went from good to bad then ugly in a matter of minutes and lasted about four hours. I was hanging in there – in a body that was caving in to what felt like nervous failure and a headache from hell. Yeah, that’s what happens when you overwork yourself for almost three straight weeks.

I was also shaken because, had I been alone in town, the experience would have been unimaginable, or so I thought. I would be alone in this city where expression of concern is considered rare.

Before I go  on, I happen to be on W’s ICE and that is why we were in town in the first place. W had landed herself in a technical mess the previous evening and I knew the right person who could fix her problem. People who watch movies on their laptops while tucked in bed need prayers.

Back to this moment when my nervous system has decided that I will feel nothing and do nothing.

“Here’s my phone,” I groaned. “Unlock it and call E”

E was not in Nairobi. He called his brother who was closer. As close as Rongai! How close! I was in CBD. How helpful!

“Who else can I call?” W, who is also my partner in crime asked.

“Try my cousin, C,” I said. “He works around here and he can be of help.”

“He says he’s away upcountry,” W said.

“Okay,” I muttered. Trying to think and getting the sharp headache, needles and stings under control. 

“Call J, he’ll call a doctor for me.”

This is the part where everybody you need is away and you are almost alone.

In hindsight, I have learnt the importance of having people who know what to do when they get that call telling them that you are not okay. It is very possible to have over 2000 friends and acquaintances on Facebook, 2000 followers on Twitter but zero people on your In Case of Emergency (ICE) list. It is a frightening thought to say the least. And by that, I exclude parents. No parent who is miles away wants to be told that their child collapsed in town while taking a walk. I am talking about friends who will immediately pause their lives and rush to where you are and see what they can do.

Interestingly, like on this particular day, ambulances also proved quite hard to come by. Dialled 1199. They took their sweet time. Called St Johns Ambulance. Nada. But that’s when that cab guy you befriended a while back shows up immediately and joins you, helping W to handle the emergency situation that I had become. All he asks is for you to tell him what hospital he can take you and not to worry about the cab fare. He coordinated with W in communicating with a doctor friend and eventually we settled on a hospital.

“W, you have to go home,” I said. “I am in good hands now”

“Weeee!,” W retorted. “Then what happens?”

“I can take it from here,” I responded, like when the CIA and FBI folks in movies tell the local cops.

“Cow!” I was told. I laughed quietly to myself. All this time popping in and out of hospital reception. A head scan here. Medication there. A doctor asking what’s stressing me up.

“I said a prayer for you in that waiting room,” W mentioned much later.

Buses, Lifts and Fires

Many weeks later, I have learnt the need to constantly evaluate the accessible people around me. Who knows where I live? Who needs to know where I am traveling to? Who needs to know where I am late at night especially when stranded? Not everyone. But people who I think matter and who will, in turn, make a difference should anything happen. Or just for the sake of knowing.

But then, I ask myself: Am I in anyone’s ICE list? Will I be able to stop my life to attend to a friend’s need till late in the night? It takes a handful of people to make a difference when all fails.

Buses have huge writings at the back glass window (is it a window really?): Emergency Door: In Case of Emergency Break Glass.
Lifts have stickers plastered: In Case of Emergency Call These Numbers 07XXX. Just in case you get stuck in a lift and you need the world to know where you are.

Some buildings have a fire alarm installation with a key: In Case of Fire Break Glass for Key. The key will always give you access to an emergency fire exit and you’ll be safe from the fire.

It is also a requirement in some of our workplaces for us to provide the details for next of kin. Same applies for life insurances and investment chamas and the likes. Just in case something happens to you at work and they need to know who your family is.

In case of emergency, I hope the 5 people in my ICE list will be the reason I will be in the ICE list of 5 other people.

This post was originally posted here

21 August 2015


A few months ago I was in a bus en route home from town. It was a Sunday afternoon. I sat next to this father who was speaking to his son on the phone (okay, it was either his son or someone else's son but there was frequent use of the word “Kababa”). I could not hear what the person on the other side of the telephone conversation was saying (partly because it was none of my business and partly because this man was talking too loudly and I just wanted to shut him off my mind trail), but you could tell by the words of this man that the person on the other side was important.  He kept asking the other party if he had been working hard and if he held on to his dream. He kept reassuring him to keep working on that dream and work hard so that he may not end up like his father (Enough with the pressure already lol).
Source: www.npr.org

Fast forward to a month ago when I sat in an audience where a person I admire from work was sharing her story. Well, hers is not the riches to rags story, neither is her story like what most people use in talk shows and such forums where they say how they are from a humble background (note, as a friend of mine said, coming from such backgrounds does not give you monopoly over suffering), and they rose above adversity to succeed. Don’t get me wrong, I do love those stories too, they are a source of inspiration. Hers, on the other side, is a story of how she set goals for herself, kept her eyes on that dream and worked damn hard to be where she is, regardless of where she came from. She is a dreamer, a hard worker, a spirited go-getter, and has neither the time nor the space for mediocre or substandard things. And you can see the result from her work to her family, her husband (you should see them together) and the way she runs life in general. Now, before you start fussing and start telling me how I may not know what she is going trough and that no one can have it all, lemmie remind you that what she kept insisting on was hard work. H.A.R.D W.O.R.K.

A good friend and I have been talking about dreams, goals desires and what we are doing about them a lot of late. *By the way, friend who shall not be named, this is just a permanent and polite reminder that you owe me a shout out. Remember. SOTMIII*. Where was I? Yes, Hard work. I always tell some girls I mentor that I am one staunch believer of hard work. Yes, success (and achieving dreams) comes in many ways and using different avenues but if there I one that I can take to the bank and I was brought up with is hard work. The good book states very well that 

In all toil there is profit, but mere talk tends only to poverty.” (Proverbs 14:23) 

I have never met anyone who worked so hard and it never worked out. If you meet one, please let me know so that I meet them. What we have these days are people who want it easy, people who are not willing to work hard or sweat for their dreams. Hell, we don’t even dream anymore or have these goals and aspirations. #YOLO has become a mantra that will destroy us, if we are not careful. Remember that dream you had when you were young? That goal you wanted to achieve, that person you wanted to become? What happened to those dreams and aspirations? Sure, you will say life happened. Sure, you will say priorities changed. But you know what, a dream never dies, no matter the circumstance…your gut still holds on to that dream, wanting to pursue it so bad. A dream never dies.

We all know that 10,000 hours theory, right? I talked about it here. What if we all started working on that dream? What if we started yesterday? What if we started today? What if we so badly wanted that dream? What if we were willing to spill sweat and blood to achieve it? What if we worked so damn hard? For our families, relationships, companies, ourselves? What if we did it #ForMyCity and for humanity? 


What if we worked hard?  

Facebook:  Njeri Kareithi
Twitter: @deekareithi

 (The campaign dubbed #ForMyCity led by Poetry Spot. Follow the conversation here)

27 July 2015

Are You Man Enough? by Kelvin Kaesa (@KelvinKaesa)

Who is a man?
Mwanaume ni?
Mwanaume ni wallet?
Mwanaume ni effort?

Men are all that
And double-caps bold highlighted headlines on the front page of a best-selling magazine, 
you can find 10 tips on how to know if he is the one,
Six more on how to keep him;
And 5 secrets on how to make him good in bed.
So go on and get yours while stocks last, get him while he’s still tall dark and handsome.

This is branding
The idea of manhood has now become commercialized
turned into a pop culture trend
the principles defining manhood can now be found copy-pasted onto newspaper lifestyle columns,
cut-out and pinned onto the walls of high school dorm room cubicles filtered into man-crush-Monday Instagram hashtags

“you thought it was hard being a woman?
Try being a man on a Monday morning when your crush posts a man crush and it’s not you…” 

it’s hard out here for ninjas like we
society is forcing us to evolve
we no longer stand straight and cannot hold up our heads backs bent typing away on google trends
a man has to make sure his personality traits are tagged just fine to show up on the first page your search results go on, take your phones and google “how to be a man” you will find more than 2.4 billion results in about 0.79 seconds
Now that is fast
Fast enough to teach man how to bend into a consumer sized package wrapped up and delivered to your door step
waiting for you to let him in
his heart now bends in ways that won’t let him feel
and whatever else is left standing straight, has stereotypes to fill its place the bits of human left in him are trapped inside a hard heart
hard as a clenched fist holding on to trends, and needs he needs…
he needs more morphine for the state he’s in
more dope to lace his lips so they get hooked to what he says he needs more bass for the chiqs he wishes he’d win
he needs more chisel-chipped abs for the freeze-frame photo-shoot photos his followers want to see
They want to see more smiling… less frowning
“smile wider… don’t let the world see your frown. You are atlas go on hold your head up and don’t get your world off-balance”

I wonder, how many of you ladies take time to make sure you go out with the right guy?
I mean a crop-top, high heels and classy clutch bag need a fine brand to accessorize I wonder what skin tone of a man will match your dress tonight
There is a saying that goes
“teach a man to fish and you save him for a lifetime”
but, teach a man how to hunt like a dog and all he will ever know is to follow commands sit…he sits stand…and so he does here have a bone for your efforts
now wag your tail, roll over and die
whoever said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks forgot to mention that survival is a basic instinct so old dogs can learn to adapt and humans…well humans are not far off from the rest of the species keep repeating a slogan and see if he does not adapt… even bone of his bone can be made just that…a bone that… that is how you identify awesome branding!!!!

Now, how many guys here today think they are man enough?
How many of you are sure you are not just brands?
Go on. Think about it. Look into yourself
Look keenly, look closely
Because I can bet… that all you see are blurred lines
Your blood line has become so twisted you can form jungle-gyms inside your heart You cannot trace down your ancestry
In order for a man to find the true definition of manhood
We have to go back to the beginning
Hebrews 1:3 “…the son is the radiance of the father and he holds everything by the power of his words”
The son is the radiance of the father
The sun reflects the light of its father
The son is a perfect image of his father…like literally
He was made in his image and likeness.
Life breathed into his lungs, heart pumping he speaks things into existence

Now, you need to realize this is why God intended that man become head of the family
Because in him he holds the power to hold things in place, be a provider and sustains those close to him. He reflects good character that defines hiss offspring’s well being
So, do you still think you are man enough or just a brand?
You can wear your snapbacks, saggy pants and cool hairstyles. But that…that is just branding. Be a man

This piece was originally posted at Story Zetu. All rights preserved to Kelvin Kaesa. Read More of his works and projects #OfSmallBoysInBigCities and #MadeToRise here