Oh! Don’t I love getting the ‘Your stats are booming’ notification on WordPress? Thank you for your readership and for your comments, even on my WhatsApp. I see you, and I’m grateful for this community we’re building.

Death by meetings is a real thing. I’ve just had my last meeting of the week, and I let out a huge sigh. Phew!!! I love what I do, but as you probably know, if I could earn a living by writing and hosting workshops like Liz Gilbert, I’d be the happiest person on earth.

Lately, I’ve been having an obsession for boiled stuff. No, I’m not with child, and I’m not sure when this began, but I just am really enjoying boiled maize, boiled eggs, and boiled beef. Boiled beef! Crazy, right? In one pot, like my ancestors, WHAT DOES FOOD MEAN TO YOU? A STORY!, I put the meat, and add criminal amounts of ginger, garlic, black pepper (I know it’s enough when I start sneezing), cumin, salt, and two big onions – not diced, but sliced in half. That is my new favourite meal. It tastes like old age. and wisdom, and remembering.

Let’s talk about boiled eggs. As a child, I never ate egg yolk. It grossed me out. Neither did I like sweet potatoes. I still don’t. Weirdly, also, I hated scrambled eggs (the ones cooked with tomatoes and onions, to be eaten alongside ugali and spinach). Right now? Eggs? Yolk?? It’s probably my favourite part now. It got me thinking of how I’ve changed over the years.

I’m fundamentally the same person, and I love that I can change my mind, for whatever reason – not changing my mind (and tongue) about sweet potatoes cos they give me goosebumps. My mum would tell me, ‘Ria ukue kana tugutware thibitari…’ (Eat those potatoes and die if you will. We will take you to the hospital if need be!) African parents are savage, haha, and I know sweet potatoes are better than bread and mandazi but still… I’d sneak and ask my dad for twenty shillings to buy mandazi. He always came through, lol.

I, also, was a ‘careless’ child. To be honest, I think it was undiagnosed ADHD. I KEPT LOSING STUFF. Rainy days? I’d forget my umbrellas somewhere in school or in the matatu and my mum kept buying new ones. Jackets? I kept losing them, too. Handkerchiefs? I’d use one every day, and lose it during, or at the end of the day. I wasn’t one of the organized babes who’d put their things in order. Slippers?? Flip-flops?? Nilikuwa nakata flip-flops almost every week, cos I loooveddd playing, and running, and all.

Right now, I buy handkerchiefs almost every time I have a cold. Only one handkerchief has survived the test of time cos it was a gift from my aunty. Gloves? I’ve bought several pairs, but now I have one of each – one black glove, another beige one, and one navy blue one. I don’t know where their partners are. I’ve managed to keep my flip-flops well, though, cos I don’t play outside anymore.

I really am the same girl – in a bigger body, with adult responsibilities. Now I lose jackets and handkerchiefs and umbrellas and have to buy them myself. Do you want to know what happened to my last good umbrella? Left it in a SuperMetro bus. Ghetto. I

What were you like as a child? Very playful? Shy? Carful? Loud? Have you changed much, or at all? Think about it. Have a conversation with your friends about it. Love on yourself, and the little you you carry, a little harder today.

Have a great weekend. I know I will.

Yours, with one handkerchief,

Njoks.