Three days after the Christmas of 1995. A big bouncing baby boy is born at term normally. The knowledge of having a brother excites me. But no sooner had I seen him than I retreated. He has a clipped cord and I don’t like it. He is not looking like me in all aspects. Or let’s say I don’t remember my cord.
“Mum, why is he not looking like me. What is this here?” I inquired pointing at the cord. “It will wear off and be like yours with time.” She responded. That quelled my incessant queries for a while.   

Being a reader of the word and having lead in the Sunday School and also served as a youth leader, dad knew some Bible characters. He picks one for my bro, Laban.

Laban is growing so fast and before long, I feel like I am going to be outdone. Mum goes to the clinic on a monthly basis. This is to enable my bro receive vaccines and assess his growth. For the record, his weight was within the normal limits when he was born (between 2.5 and 4.0 kilograms.) 

This is the third month and nurses at Kericho Maternal and Child Health (MCH) have every reason to worry. Not that my bro is malnourished. Far from that, he is gaining so much weight and they are wondering how comes in only three months, the graph is rising exponentially outside the normal range. Soon they would not have a place to plot the values if this goes on. And indeed they have to write outside the margins.

Quickly, nurses around summons mum in a room not to congratulate her but to scold, threaten and even rebuke. 

“Woman, it is not that we don’t know how to feed our children with Cerelac.”  One of the nurses begins. Mum thinks anyone in white coat is a doctor. “Why do you feed your child so much? Eh?” the impromptu interview goes on. 

Mum is lost for words. She has hard time pronouncing Cerelac let alone afford it. She is wondering how these ‘doctors’ are taking her. “What do you feed your child with?” Another one prods. 

With a stutter, she replies, “I feed him with Uji ya mahindi (Maize porridge) and sometimes mix with millet. There is nothing else I give to him except for breastfeeding.” 

They are not satisfied but leaves her to go but with stern warning to reduce the frequency of feeding and stop Cerelac. 

Looking at his graph, only two dots are within the normal range; when he was born and after the first month. He never comes back to the normal range. At twelve months, he is as heavy as a normal child in the age bracket of 2–3 years according to the WHO standards in the clinic card. 

He is abnormal you can say and I agree with you. He has never been normal. 

At the age of four years, he joins nursery school in a nearby primary school. He is well built. Other kids occasionally make fun of him but one thing I take pride in is that he beats them all. His size is intimidating. He simply can defend himself. If he decides to sit on you then it will take the hand of a number of accredited observers to take him off. 

I wish I was that big too. I would beat all of my friends who laughed at me for bedwetting. 

It will be an injustice not to mention at this point that bro eats commensurate to his body. He is an ardent observer of unorthodox adage Mwili haijengwi na mawe. He agrees with River road wahenga who said Jenga mwili haribu jina. 

Paraphernalia fills his shorts’ pockets. While others carry handkerchiefs and rubber or pencil and what have you in their pockets, he is carrying nuts, heavy bolts and the like. Mum is pricked severally while washing his school uniform. As an occupational risk protection, she has learnt to check his pockets. She does complete evacuation characterised by soft fluffy pockets. No amount of warning can deter bro from carrying more of such. At some point, his pockets are torn by pins and assorted items. You wonder what he wants to do with all these. I also wonder.  

Sick patients visit a doctor but Laban pays a visit to any sick appliance, be it radio, TV, watch, phone etc. I don’t know how he comforts them if he ever does but what I am certain of is that there is a 50% mortality rate. Those who survive the ordeal bears life scars out of unprecedented suturing.  He takes time to learn what each device contains and how it works. Maybe he is on a mission to unearth the radio presenters he has been hearing only to be disappointed. 

This has been going on for long. He has a collection of broken pieces of anything electrical. In class eight, he surprised us by resuscitating a Motorola C113. After about 10 minutes, it was working again. I guess that is the first miracle he performed. 

He sits for class eight exams and doesn’t perform well. He has to repeat after which he passed enough to join a provincial school. He performs averagely like all the average students. Many are the times I encourage him to work hard but seemingly he is doing hard work. 

For a long time, we didn’t have electricity at home and it took concerted efforts to push my parents to the wall that they did all they could for us to be like our neighbours.  I know if they were in a position to they would have gotten it long ago.

This is the time when bro is in form two. He is taking physics as a subject but has done nothing close to electricity. At this point in time, I am in second year at the World Class University, Egerton.  KPLC team has connected for us electricity and wiring is for us to do. This means digging deeper into our pockets and get an electrician. 

Surprise! Laban offers to do the wiring. He is confident and claims he knows what he is doing. For safety, we switch off power from the mains. With my knowledge in medicine combined with 4 years of physics in high school, I watch as bro teach me how connections are made. He is younger than me but I want to have little faith in him. If he could resurrect a phone before, maybe he is out to do another miracle. He makes his connections and before long he is done and for sure it is working.

That begs the question. “Do you do electricity in school?” I asked. “No, I don’t do electricity. I only do Physics.” He responds with a smile. I went on, “But they don’t teach enough electricity in high school physics let alone in form two.” The next response makes me remove my hat, “This is general knowledge.” He said. 

He struggles in school. At some point he is expelled not for setting up fire or leading a strike but because of his faith. He goes to form 3 in another school where he finishes his schooling. He got average marks to enable him join a college. This saw him join Rift Valley Institute of Science and Technology, Nakuru. 

Just one year in school and he wakes up this morning to make an audio amplifier from scratch. I asked him several questions to which he denies being taught in school how to make one. This made me know this about him also which I didn’t know. He knows how to ride a car (He confesses having done it before and remember he has not gone to any driving school). He says it is so easy but for me, I’ll be a student of Leopard Driving School come December. 

What am I saying? Everyone has a talent. You can say my talent is writing since I wrote this story. You can almost always tell what a child interest(s) is/are. Most of the time talents are killed because we don’t approve what children are doing. Probably if nurtured and supported they would come up with better ways of solving today’s problems. 

Laban was abnormally big and loved carrying weird fixings but today I understand that that is where his passion has been. FYI, he has reduced weighed significantly and his BMI is within normal but looks bigger than me. While I look cachectic (blame it on medicine), he looks well fed. 

What I have learnt from him is that you can make two mechanical motors of 12V that will produce DC which you can convert to AC and the step up even up to 2KV. That is his next project. Don’t ask me questions on this because I also didn’t understand. I am waiting for the final thing. 

The bottom line is, parents (and aspiring ones), encourage your children and help them pursue their passions. That is how best they can use their potentials. Not all can be doctors. Not all can be lawyers, architectures…name them. 

(c) Ronedion 

Simple Audio Amplifier 📢 

My Love Journey

​My Love Journey 

(c) Ronedion

Very few people talk about their relationships. I am in that very group but it is not until today that I was triggered to talk about it. I might never know the inspiration someone might draw from my story or learn from my flaws. For the record, I am not that kind of person who suddenly turns philosophical after breakup; I just chew the bitter break-up pill.
I had visited almost every office with my form four results slip showing straight As in the fundamental subjects. Little did I know that is not what the employers look for. They look for experience and professionalism. Sad to say I had none of the two. In any case, it was the reason I was turned down in more than 30 times places I visited. To cut the short story long (actually it is the other way round), I finally made a call to a certain school in Kapsabet. That is the place I met with Sandra (pseudonym) in the year 2010.
Ours has been a long journey of ups and downs, rains and drought, fights and reconciliation, love and hatred. The relationship has been peppered with flats and bumps but more of bumps. Each has been thinking secretly that we have been taking each other for a ride. But that is when a wrote the first poem to her, a poem of dumping her, the better option. I fell for what seemingly was the best option. Sandra and I somehow managed to chat and meet occasionally. I couldn’t do away with her completely. 
Don’t judge me (actually you can the way you want) when I say I had another girlfriend before that. I know it was just after form four but that is when I had all the time in the world and was allowed to have one. The first relationship was short-lived. I didn’t get the approval of many to go on with her plus the fact that she was from the village and didn’t want to upgrade herself to the latest fashion. I hope you get what I mean. I would be embarrassed in bed when she would lose network and only regain but transiently when I would take her out to major cities.  She would keep me waiting for long hours when I had a date with her. What I only loved about her is that she wasn’t pocket-draining economically. Maybe it was her gimmick for me to continue keeping her. Truth be told, I wasn’t proud of her. 
Sandra to the opposite was a gold digger (sorry for the term). She would entice me to keep subscribing to her love. Weird, right? I must confess that she was so expensive to maintain. I would labour to maintain my connection with her. Many have been in abusive relationships. I am not an exception. When I couldn’t sustain the relationship that was worsened by her stealing (taking without permission but later returned), I decided to ditch her. Don’t ask me if I moved on or cried myself out.
For straight seven years, I have been in and out of the relationship with her. It is true that at times she gives me goodies and who doesn’t enjoy? That has been attracting me to her. I love how she dresses in green and flaunts her assets. She is a digital 21st century damsel and even though I love technology, she is far ahead of me. I normally wait for anniversaries to enjoy the goodies (I mean goodies). I am a man remember. She pulls surprises on me. When I think I have pulled one on her, I get disappointed but still appreciates my little input. 
My parents know her and many of my friends have approved her. (You should be knowing her). At one point in time, I went away from home and decided to hook up with another one without telling my parents. It almost caused dissension. They looked for me everywhere. They called her but she was “mteja”. They were about to visit a local radio station to announce for a lost boy/man (Use them interchangeably). My sister only knew where I was but I had cautioned her not to mention. 
This is 2017 and still counting. She recently lightened my heart. Don’t ask me how but if you think in terms of goodies, you won’t be wrong. Anyway you are allowed to have your own opinions. She has enabled me to visit places unknown. Has enabled me to get connected with my friends and is in the process of giving me economic freedom (only if the project she is sponsoring will last). She knows what I love most. Who in their right mind will abandon such a girlfriend? But if she drives me crazy, I may abandon before I lose my mind. Sandara my neighbour who changed her name recently to Tele has been dressing seductively and visits me regularly to borrow “Short Practice of Surgery 26th Ed by Baile and Love” yet she knows that I don’t have it. She opens up to me and wants to divert my attention, commitment and love for Sandra. 
I pray that my relationship last now that I decided to speak up about it. She is slightly older than me but they say age is just but a number. If you asked me my sincere opinion, I would tell you that I believe in miracles and I believe that the beautiful ones are not yet born. I am not insinuating anything. If I were, you would know. 
I have been pulling your leg. This is my relationship with Safaricom. Read it again with that in mind. 

The Juicy Relationship Constitution, 2016

TJRC 2016


We, the beneficiaries of this relationship, in order to promote love, trust and faithfulness in our relationship, do adopt and ordain this constitution to govern our relationship as long as it lasts.


This is the relationship constitution that enumerates, iterates and codifies the rights and responsibilities of Gideon Kiprono here and after known as the “boyfriend” and Joy Cherono, here and after known as “the girlfriend”. 

This constitution is the supreme law governing our relationship now henceforth and therefore no member shall be above the provisions provided for in this document.

Mafisi laws or any other international laws will not form part of this constitution. 


The name of this association shall be THE JUICY RELATIONSHIP CONSTITUTION, hereafter referred to as TJRC. This association will use the name or its acronym TJRC in all publicity materials and correspondence.


TJRC is composed of two people only (Kiprono and Cherono) who without coercion decided to be friends for life following their striking intellectual prowess atop interests. TJRC shall be guided by this constitution at all times.

Communication is paramount for success of any relationship and this is how it will be done. 

Loading dose of hello in the morning and maintenance dose of nice lunch and goodnight. 

Little or no communication with the ex-girlfriend or ex-boyfriend.

No whatsapp, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and other social media when we are together. It is our time.

Respond to emails promptly, Instagram tags or facebook pokes, twitter mentions.

Whatsapp messages should be replied immediately as soon as blue ticks effect are seen or better 


Public display of affections is prohibited and so to kissing by all means.

Unintended kissing should only be when resuscitating the partner in absence of ambubag. Mouth-to-mouth will be the best.

Although little risk is documented to accrue from passionate kissing, we will be cognizant of the fact that cold, glandular fever and even herpes infection can be spread through kissing.  

The privilege of hugging is accorded to the boyfriend or girlfriend under the following: –

They are undergoing post exams stress disorder or trauma of similar magnitude and needs a shoulder to lean on. 

If we should publicly hug, then the short acting version is applied and differentiated from ultra-short version given for general friends. 

Extended release version only happens when one wins a Nobel Prize or any other achievement of comparable weight.

No hugging of rivals and relationship enemies to any of the partners and more so in the presence of the counterpart. 


Gifts build relationship as opposed to surprises which causes anxiety and subsequent tachycardia.

Negative surprises like failing in exams, ex calling to ask for consideration and the like is highly discouraged.

Positive surprises that have probability of ≥ 20% can be practiced for mutually exclusive events.  

Gifts and surprises should never be confused as the latter is an event or piece of news etc. that is unexpected. 


Impromptu visitations are uncalled for to avoid embarrassment in this era of technology. Twitter mention or WhatsApp heads-up, call or text message can suffice. 

Agenda of the visit should be communicated earlier and each to have a copy. Review of the previous minutes and countersigning should happen unless the meeting occurs in an unplanned for place and no soft copy of the same exists. 

Unavailable notice is placed at the door to bar friends and custodian if it applies from interrupting the meeting.

Birthdays are treated as important days of reviewing resolutions and making new for a better life. Gifts can be expended liberally then to cheer the partner. 

Valentine is a waste of day and resources. In any case, Valentine is dead. 

Any other special days can come with or without gifts. 


The best and accepted regular intercourse we should have is the intellectual variant. 

In the unlikely event that one ovary has been removed and the other is at stake and coitus should be practiced, it should be without delay and warning. The acceptable family planning method is coitus interruptus apart from what family doctor will prescribe on medical grounds.

Coitus once practiced triggers Responsibility for Life button. 

The relationship shall only be called to an end under the following circumstances: –

Any partner feels burdened of which should submit substantial evidence to support the same.

Any member is found unfaithful: random hugging of known team Mafisi Sacco members unless they are their brothers or sisters (not in Christ)

A 6 months’ notice in writing stating the reasons for terminating the relationship should be supplied and counterchecked by a trustworthy person-clergy.

Shall not be affiliated to any party, organization, club, institution or group; for that matter Mafisi Team Sacco. The association will matchless to the universe as the partners are. 

The Juicy Relationship Constitution will aid in ways unkown unforeseen disagreements, mood swings and somehow premenstrual syndrome. It will prevent the association from rampant ravenous mafisi members. It is necessary for it protects our finances from unnecessary gifts and surprises. Chief of all, it fosters love, harmony and faithfulness. 

I want to Die (Part 2)

By Gideon Mutai

There are many people out there who wanna die BUT…they don’t want to kill themselves. I am not an exception. Google the phrase “I want to die” and you will have thousands of results.

From, discussion on depression, one wrote thus

“…I just want to die a death that I did not directly cause. Something like a car crash or an unfortunate construction accident, a freak flu that causes people to drop dead. I repeat just to emphasize, I don’t want to kill myself, I just want to die.”

I want to dieSo many of us have suicidal thoughts at one point in life. It is normal because you are human. The men in the Bible who were close to God also had suicidal tendencies, look at Elijah.

1 Kings 19: 4 “…It is enough now, O Lord, take away my life…” Hey, I am not preaching, I was just showing you how common suicidal tendencies. Death is no respecter of persons. If you live in the upper crust or wallow in abject penury, you are not exempted.

What are the triggers therefore?

We all love living a blissful life, an ideal environment with ideal kind of people relating well with them. We want to have what we desire promptly. Sometimes our working conditions are not favourable. When we fail in exams we feel bad or terrible. When we lose our beloved ones or we lose our jobs. When everyone is talking negatively about us or when we did something we regret doing or will make the “public” change our perceptions towards us.

The bottom line is, we want to feel good. Anything that disrupts that balance however little it is will be taking us slowly to the other extreme.

Many have tried defining what life is, whatever your understanding thereof, you can affix meaning to it or detach, it will still remain LIFE.

Please share in the comments section your experience or what you did to combat the suicidal thoughts. You never know, it might change a life, you might save a soul.

Back to the leading sentence, I want to die but I don’t want to kill myself. Felicia (pseudonym) is a victim of suicidal tendencies. Her parents rejected her after conceiving before marriage. Her education was cut short. The boyfriend didn’t want to hear anything of her. Her friends became judgmental and started talking behind her back and acting weirdly towards her. She began job hunting. After several months, she lost hope. Her efforts were all futile. As if that is not enough, her sweet baby girl felt sick and was admitted for three weeks and treated for malnutrition but she was not able to pay the hospital bill. To avoid mention the nitty-gritty of the story, she wanted to end her life. She took poison (Rat-and-rat) but she didn’t succumb to it. Maybe she under dosed, I cannot tell. The story is indeed long…

I want to die 2When you want to die, please consider

  1. What is the source of your inspiration in life?

Find something that interests you most and indulge therein. If you find consolation in nature then embrace nature walking, hikes, bird watching, sun bathing etc.

If perhaps you love music, find a book and sing along or alone to the favourite music. Attend a concert, listen to birds singing, watch them dance.

Grasp that inspirational book and read, read to the end.

  1. Think of Someone you Love and that person who loves you

Nobody cares is a misplaced statement. At least there is one person who cares. Jesus does but that is another theology for another day. Your lover, your spouse, your best friend, your mum or dad or acquaintance can be that person who cares.

Your death will affect them adversely. They may be drawing their inspiration from you. They might be the reason why they want to live to see another bright day. You are their only hope in life.

  1. Remember you are not alone

Several people have attempted suicide before. Some are contemplating now as you read this line. Death is not the end in itself but the beginning of the end. Share out your thoughts with someone you can confide in. Talk openly about your feelings. Cry if need be. Do anything that can release the boiling stress steam inside.


Don’t do anything foolish. Binge drinking will not abate the stress, it only makes you forget about it transiently. After the stupor is weaned off, it comes back with double interest. It is a vicious cycle. Don’t engage in promiscuity thinking it is a way out. Some resort to smoking or masturbation or gambling or even robbery. None of this will help.

  1. Give it Time. Wait!

When you think you should end it now, buy a little time. Wait till you come back to your senses. One part of you wants to die but at the same time some part somehow wants to live. Sometimes some want to attract the attention of other people and therefore they attempt suicide hoping they will not die only to wake up and realize they are dead.

Do something that will distract you from such thoughts.

  1. Face the awful situation

Suicide is an elusive way of doing things. When someone inflicts pain on us, we withdraw away from it. Suicide is a way of moving away from the real thing. If it is failed relationships, please try again. If it is lost opportunity, then that was not the last one. Every day is not the same. Yesterday was and will not be the same as today, neither will tomorrow be similar to today. Each day is a present and unique in its own way. It is only that your thoughts are similar, today and tomorrow that makes all days appear equal.

Face that man or that boss that is giving you stress. Face that task courageously. Circumvent around the problem.


I’ll write part 3 soon. Please remember to give your response in the comments section, your story or encouragements or thoughts.

Medical Drama Script

By Gideon Mutai
(Assumes the format of a medical history)

Name: Stephen Ayoti Olesipulpul
Age: 25 Years Old
Residence: Mwisho wa Lami
Sex: Male

Presenting Complains

-Small for age copulatory organ
-Sweating in exams
-Bed wetting
-Fracture bone
-Swollen cheeks

History of Presenting Illness (HPI)
Olesipulpul was well until one month ago when he noticed unusual profuse sweating triggered by exam papers. It only happens when the papers have been issued. It is drenching in nature and associated with awareness of heartbeats, headache and incessant tremors. The positive side is improved acuity but strains the ocular muscles impairing lateral vision. This comes with neck pain probably due to straining. He has been asking for extra exam papers due to sweats destroying the papers. It is relieved by ending the exams only to begin again during the following session.
The headache is frontal in nature and doesn’t radiate. Pain killers is a waste of resources, it doesn’t help. Removing the trigger does.
He also complained of small for age copulatory organ which is the size of a grain. Pooling of blood doesn’t increase its size beyond one inch. He reports no family history of small transformers. In any case they are unusually gigantic for the first degree relatives. He has never had any penile fracture or history of sexually transmitted infections or exposure to radiations.
This made him have the next complain of puffy face. He reports to have attended his girlfriend’s birthday party two days ago. Sheila wanted to play the mama role with him. To her surprise, the transformer was insensitive to various stimulations. It was just weeping but not standing up to the task before it. She gave him an irresistibly hard slap across his cheeks seeing it swell almost immediately. He has done soothing for it but there is no change except for the hyperemia. He reports decreased appetite following the incidence. However, he denies diarrhea or slap induced constipation. He saw many stars thereafter. He couldn’t quantify but the pain in a scale of one to ten, he rated at eight. The thoughts of the incidence worsened the pain.
This led to the following complain. He fell over a bridge when he was going back home and fractured the right lower leg. He reports no loss of consciousness after the fall. There was a sharp localized pain on the cuff muscles. It was aggravated by walking and no relieving factors.
Last but not least, he complained of continuous bedwetting. I couldn’t tell if he meant bedwetting or wet dreams but all the same, wet is the common denominator. He has been having it since he joined high school seven years ago. Abstaining from any fluid intake during evenings doesn’t help, neither does taking much fluids. This has made him have long nights and short days.
He denied weight loss, night sweats nor fever.

Past Medical and Surgical Hx
-This is the eighth admission. The first admission was due to cholera. He can’t remember the second admission. The third, fourth and fifth admissions were similar to the second. The sixth admission was due to Post Exam Disorientation Stress Disorder. The last admission was due to threatened discontinuation.
-He has history of Kenya cane transfusions but none for blood
-He is known allergic to exams and invigilators but not to drugs
-No surgical interventions done.

Personal/Family/Social/Economic Hx
-11th born in a family of 14, student at Egerton University.
-No family hx of chronic illness except for the atopy for exams. His parents had the same problem. He reports of bedwetting (Brother of the cousin to the uncle of the grandfather to his dad’s brother in law)
-He occasionally drinks uji and milk but doesn’t smoke.
-He bets with sportpesa for a living.
-He doesn’t subscribe to NHIF.

Olesipulpul 25 yr old male from Mwisho wa Lami presented with a long history of Small for age copulatory organ, Sweating in exams, Bed wetting, Fracture bone, Swollen cheeks.

I found a young man in fair general condition but seemingly utterly confused even though he was oriented in time place and person. He was not in any obvious distress.
General Parameters were within normal limits except for pallor of 2 ++
Vital Signs:

Genitourinary Exam
Pea sized penis, Cremasteric reflex not appreciated

Face Exam
Swollen cheeks, warm to touch

Constitutional penile growth delay in a 25 yr old male with fractured right lower limb and nocturnal enuresis with Post exam disorientation stress disorder to rule out dysfunctional relationship.

-Right Lower limb X-Ray
-Penile Stimulatory tests
-Mobile phone Whatsapp texts and SMS

(a) Supportive Treatment
-Bible Study
-Idiotitis vaccine
(b) Definitive Treatment
-Penile traction
-Plaster of Paris
-Macintosh Impenetrable mattress with intermittent wake up alarms
-Transfer to Mjengo exam free area

I Wanna Die

I want to die but I don’t want to commit suicide or homicide. I also don’t want to die. I am not confused if you are tempted to think so. I am neither psychotic. I am not living in denial either. I don’t have any of the psychiatric conditions. Yes. Bipolar disorder where there is a phase of mania and sometimes a phase of depression. You see! I know what that means so I cannot be having it. I also don’t have schizophrenia whatever that means.

I have thought about it for long. I know maybe you are asking yourself why I am putting this down. It is my way of relieving steam inside me. How else would I keep my blog active? It will also help diffuse theories that may come up after I have gone. I am ruling out all the possibilities that you will think of.

My relationship is good. I don’t have a problem with social life. Mmmh, academically I am not badly off. The only problem is people thinking that I am brighter than I am. In future I will be bright. That is good, right? Financially, I don’t sleep hungry and I can afford to buy a handkerchief. I live in a good place without micro-comrades (bedbugs). The landlady has never come to my doorstep to ask for rent or threatened to send me away. Not that I pay on time but because she knows I’ll ultimately pay. There is seemingly no problem.

So what is wrong with me? Of course I wouldn’t answer directly. I put it down in coded poems. My readers sometimes think I am writing of far-fetched stuff. It is true, who can tell when it is about me and when it is implausible? That is the beauty of being a poet.

Life is good and death is the inverse. Death as they say is not part of life. It is the negation of it. I am not giving up. I am neither giving in. Let’s just say I am tired, at least not with life. It is too early to get confused on what I am writing about but if you do, don’t worry, it is my aim to confuse you.

I know you will praise me for the little good that I have done. You will never mention the bad that I did. At best that is called Last Respect. It will make many to know my home who would otherwise not known. If I write poor English then don’t forget my aim; to confuse you the more. You will form committee, the known one is the funeral committee which will sit and plan for everything. My mum would be crying, she would not want to be consoled. I don’t know how my dad will react but all the same all will be hurt and grieved.

My classmates would come together and contribute a little “sendoff” money for the family to use. Some who have called me their mentors will be confused. I cannot tell their reactions. One, Nyangaresi will be perturbed, flabbergasted and other adjectives you can add. He only knows me to be an internet maniac. I have not known anyone killed by the internet so you would be straying if you think along that line.

I am thinking of taking insecticides but I stop short when I remember it is of the class organophosphates. I have once presented to my classmates on that topic and I am telling you the symptoms and the sequel is not good. The outcome may not be bad but I am thinking of doing it at night. That means by morning the prognosis will be poor if I wake up to find myself still alive. That should tell you that I fear death or rather I fear the outcome.

In the past I have written poems. Thanks be to God I know how to encrypt messages. Even if injecting one word that bears the whole message and even swapping the gender. Thinking is painful and so I am not worried you will decrypt the messages. What I am certain of is that you will want to know if I left any message behind. I am actually leaving this long note or is it a letter? I don’t know or just call it “While You Were Away” message.

If I write that life is meaningless, I will be lying. Writing that all is vanity makes it sound better. At least you know the reference thereof. If you live with fear then life is meaningless. That qualifies the first statement to be true. I can justify any of the statements. If after all struggles in life one ends in the grave, what is the need of living to begin with? Some go through pain, crushing process, starving, extreme sacrifices and agony. The end of it all? Grave. There is one thing that without it all is meaningless. HOPE is the word. To qualify it the more, I will call it a Blessed Hope. Life sucks without Christ. Life can end in the grave or the grave can be a stopover to eternal life.

I am drifting away from the opening statement. I have promised am not gonna do it but oh no the urge is irresistible. The feeling is intense and sweet. I am addicted. Today and tomorrow I am on my knees about it. The other day I am on it again.

Indeed there is a raging war. I wish it were of flesh and blood, probably I would triumph. I have two swords but I cannot hold them after doing it. It is like it is not helping me. I know the full armour but the enemy attacks imperceptibly and at my weakest points. I think the Holy Spirit has been withdrawn from me. I don’t feel guilty anymore. If I felt guilty and go on doing it, will it help? No!

I want to die, yes to self. I wish I would die now. I will not love my life unto death. You know what that means? The Bible talks of people who loved not their lives unto the death. I wish He would take my life (and let it be). I don’t want to take it myself or have it. I don’t have a right for the former and I am not a good steward for the latter.

Why are you worried? I don’t want to die. So forget everything and go back to your work. Thanks for stopping by to read this.