I have had such a calm, Zensational day today – I love such days. The only not-so-fun part about it was (re)learning how to balance sheets and to prepare profit and loss statements. I did business studies in Form One in high school, and engineering economics in my undergrad, but truthfully speaking, economics is my least favourite discipline. I just don’t enjoy it – only understood the concepts enough to pass exam and give my father bragging rights. Heck, I even think I prefer calculus to economics, but that’s besides the point. ‘I had a Zensational day’ is the point.
These days, I have a proclivity for long walks, and I try to do 8 or 9 km twice every week, which is great cos my lifestyle is rather sedentary. I’m trying to change that, because the human body has only one set of bum bum (for sitting) and 360 freaking joints – our bodies were designed for movement. I should endeavor to walk a lot more, even.
To zhuzh things up, I created a theme for this month’s walks. The theme for May’s walks is ‘Colour.’ Here’s what I wrote on my Wanderlust wall:
The theme for May’s walks is ‘Colour’. Today, I’m taking my first- Yellow Walk. The challenge is to spot 20 yellow things. The board is my first. The bananas at the stall next to it? Second. Lezzz goooo!
The idea of a colour walk is to make walking more intentional and mindful – encouraging presence, engaging the senses, where one focuses on a single colour, noticing the things that share that colour. For my first walk in May, I chose yellow. I had a target of seeing at least 20 yellow items within the one hour, and at first, all I could see were bananas, haha. I saw more things eventually. Here’s the list:
Hakki Car Finance logo Jerricans Number plates Motorcyclist’s helmet Malfy Gin billboard Glovo bag City Shuttle (is that green or yellow?) GoTV board That man’s jacket That school van This Caucasian woman’s thighs More bananas? Lavington Security poster Kenya Roads board Sooshi Soo’s walls OMG! More bananas Yellow Lana tank Velocity Spa board Flower pots
I enjoyed my walk, very much, and even found a sugarcane juice stall on my way back to the house.
I refused to take the plastic straw offered to try to reduce plastic pollution. It’s even better to walk around with a bottle to avoid getting juices in these plastic cups that aren’t quite reusable, you know? My fav is this kibandaski where they serve sugarcane jjuice in (clean) glass mugs -zero waste.
I’m hoping to do more colour walks in due course. It’s such a wonderful exercise for our minds which are almost always overstimulated – just noticing one colour on different items, noting them down, and rewarding yourself with sugarcane juice. You should try it out, alone, or with friends, right?
I hope you had a great day, and it’s okay if you didn’t. May tomorrow be better for you.
Thanks for being here. I’ll see you again, very soon, I promise.
No, I will not talk about that BBC documentary because if I do, I will start wailing. I watched it sorrowfully on Monday and it was a reminder that we are on our own: https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c8jexr9yv0do, so because I talked about politics with my Uber driver yesterday, we won’t today.
Blood. Let’s talk about it. Not the blood of innocent civilians whose lives were cut short by brutal, senseless, and sycophantic policemen, but the blood shed by women every month (for those with regular cycles) – the blood shed by women every other month (for those with irregular cycles, hello endometriosis, hello PCOS, hello whatever!)
25th May 2013, my menarche story. It was a Saturday – a great day because I was in an Adventist school, so we had attended church service the whole day, and were having supper, when I felt something strange. I felt wet, like I had peed myself, except I hadn’t. I’ve never had issues with my bladder. In May 2013, I was in high school (Form 2), just about to turn 15, and I was a late bloomer in every sense of the word. Back in primary school, there was awkwardness around periods. Kids can be dumb, you know? I remember how we’d make a fuss about Magdalene and Jane and everyone who got their first period in class, usually, they’d be getting up to go to the washroom or something, and their deskie, or unfortunately, a rude, crude boy, would see the blood spot on their dress, and shift all attention to the bleeding girl(s).
For context, I was not in a bougie school where kids knew about sex and reproductive health issues. I was in a very public school, Riruta Satellite Primary School, where they’d even host periodic pad drives as we had kids from neighbouring children’s homes, etc. – typical school for the kids of common wananchi.
Some girls in my class got their period in Class 5. Most did in Class 6 and 7 (ages 12 to 14). I did not. Heck, I’d donate the pads I’d receive during the pad drives to my friends. I finished Class 8 with small boobies and no menses, and I went to Form 1 with small boobies, no menses, a tiny waist, and wide hips, telling of the fact that my body would make me a hot number. Now I have nyash and hips for days, and small boobies, and MENSES!!! I digress.
Let’s go back to the period after Class 8. I had a ‘false period’, haha, stay with me. My mother and I celebrated cos I had kept asking her, ‘Mum, the girls in my class have menses and I don’t. Should I get checked?’ Yes, my mother was woke, and we had that conversation – where she explained a bit about hormones, how diet and genes play a role, and how it will happen at different times for all of us – that nothing was wrong with me. I believed her. On this day, I had gone to to the loo and after wiping, I saw blood on the tissue, and went outside screaming. Mum taught me how to wear a pad and it felt good – like the guest I had been waiting for had arrived. I kept going to the loo to check, but there was nothing, for hours, and then it hit me – constipation. I had had a hard time going for number 2 and tore my bum – anal fissure, hello? I removed the freaking pad, disappointed. I told my mum. She affirmed me. I miss her.
Buying pads was a requirement when joining Form One, so we bought two packs of the OG Always sanitary towels – blue and pink wrapping and all. Those pads stayed in my trunk the whole of Form One until I donated them to a girl whose name I can’t remember, for the fear that they’d expire, for the random thought that something was wrong with me because EVERYONE in my class was menstruating. I wasn’t mad about it, just scared and a little hopeful.
So, on this day, 25th May 2013 when I felt wet and rushed to the washroom, I felt ‘normal’, because there it was. My panty was red and flooded. I ran back to tell my friend, Miriam, who took me to the dormitory and gave me pads. I almost didn’t want to wash the stained panty, you know, but I did. There I was, Little Miss Margaret Njoki Kangethe, the menstruating girl. Since then, I’ve had an interesting journey with my hormones and menses and all but that’s not the point of today’s blog. Today’s blog is about honouring my blood – I waited for my menses, and I usually feel very powerful when bleeding, like I could smear it (the blood) on my door and on my face for extra powers. Gross? No?
I love to give my body fruits as it bleeds. My bleed is a reminder that my insides are working fine, and I’m grateful that my period is painless. I just want it to be more regular. We’ll see what happens. What is your relationship with your menses? Do you revere your bleed? Do you hate it? Why? Cos of cramps? Mood swings? Do you remember when you first got your period? Let’s overshare in the comments section.
Thanks a lot for being here!
Yours,
Bloody Njoks.
P.S. Since 25th May 2013, I’ve always used pads, like my mum taught me to. During my last period, I tried using a tampon and removed that shit after barely an hour. I did a survey on my WhatsApp and the respondents expressed an undying love for tampons, citing reasons like, ‘I can toss and turn in bed without the fear of staining my clothes and sheets. Others, like me, cannot walk around with things inside them – tampons or menstrual cups or whatever. I told one respondent that I’d consider using cups cos they are more environment-friendly than tampons and pads.When I told this Mr. Man that I had worn a tampon for the first time and he askedhow it felt, here’s what I said:
Foreign. I’ve removed it – now wearing a pad like my mother and aunts. Given a chance, I’d be free-bleeding to the earth, like my ancestors, before the wazungu came and called it ‘gross’ and ‘period poverty’😂.
That’s my truth.
Have a great day! If you’re on your menses, please eat some chocolate and fruits and don’t send me the bill. If you’re a man whose girlfriend and sisters are on their period, buy them chocolate and fruits. Yes? Yes!
There are many possible responses to that question – home can be where your parents live, where your ancestors are from, home can be a person, home can be your rented house. Home can be many things , many places, many people. Home, regardless of your initial response, is earth – this planet we inhabit. It holds you, and your friends, and your family, and the food you eat, and the places you love to travel to – the ocean, the bushes and mountains, if you’re like me.
Today, 22nd April, is World Earth Day, and the theme is ‘Our Power, Our Planet.’ Yes, we know that the earth, our home, is our planet, but do we know that we hold power to restore, or destroy it, as we have been, particularly since the industrial revolution? Are we aware that the earth’s red signals are beeping, screaming, ‘DANGER’? I am aware, and you probably are too, but it doesn’t (and shouldn’t) end there.
What can you do, today and every day, to be the earth’s friend? Do you need to rethink your consumption? Do you need to stop disposing clothes just because they have one little hole that a tailor can fix, because textile pollution is a thing? Do you need to stop cooking excess food all the time that you have to dispose of, because it stayed too long in your refrigerator? Do you need to rethink self-care? How many items do you use for haircare? How many plastic bottles do you have to dispose of every few months? WHAT’S THAT ON YOUR HEAD? Do you need to spend less time in the shower? I know I do, cos those warm showers slaaaaappp, and shower-times sometimes feel like therapy sessions – I’ve made some of my most important decisions in the bathroom, haha.
The earth is, and has been, good to us, and that alone warrants that we take care of it, or at least, not destroy it, either ignorantly, or with awareness. Buy a water bottle so that you don’t have to be buying water in plastic bottles every time you leave the house. There are sooo many mindful living tips – we’ve featured them in our http://www.econjia.com journals – to serve as great reminders of our responsibility. You could buy one or three, for yourself, and/or your loved ones.
If you’re Christian like me, you’ve probably read – Psalm 24:1 – ‘The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it.’ That verse, alongside Genesis 1:28: ‘And God blessed them, and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth…’ introduces a different perspective – that we are stewards. We have power, as the Bible suggests, as God said, to subdue it. I googled the meaning (to subdue the earth) and here’s what it means:
“Subdue the earth” in Genesis 1:28, often interpreted as a divine mandate, refers to developing and caring for the earth, and exercising dominion over it in a responsible and benevolent way. It implies exploring the planet, harnessing its resources, and using them for the benefit of humanity, but not in a way that exploits or damages the environment.“
There you go – taking care of the earth isn’t just a ‘nice-to-do’. It’s a ‘must-do’ – almost like a commandment – should’ve been the 11th.
Let’s subdue the earth, even as we enjoy everything it is – everything it gives – everything we see – the mountains we climb, the flowers we see, the waterfalls we marvel at… The earth is nice, let us be, too. I know I try, I mean, it’s the theme of my work, haha.
Happy Earth Day 2025! You have power – a lot of it. Use it well. Be nice.
Good afternoon, you lovely person. Are you well? I am – actually currently sitting outside, facing Mount Longonot, which the Maasai revere for its majestic features and supposed connection to ancestral spirits. Longonot’s rim is a fav. I climbed the babe, and went around its rim on my 25th birthday, and started the year on a high note, quite literally – 2,776 metres above freaking sea level.
I hiked a lot in 2023.Longonot is dusty af. It’s beautiful so it can get away with anything.This is such a proper picture. I love it. My feet were dangling – below was the crater – living dangerously 101.
Now, assume that there were three Longonots, one next to the other. That will form a good basis for today’s blog, about, well, life. We can call it The Longonot range – it’d form something like a sine wave. In fact, I’m committed. Let me draw it for y’all, on my ‘board’:
There are the three Longonots, on my board.
Now, the topmost part is called the ‘crest’, and the lowest is referred to as the ‘trough’, which for the purpose of this blog, we will refer to as ‘Overwhelm’, just cos I couldn’t refer to the trough as ‘underwhelm’, lol! Our lives, today, are the three Longonots. What would you place at the crest or trough? You don’t know? I’ll tell you.
At the overwhelming crest, when everything is high and great, we could have experiences like birthdays (once a year of course), graduation ceremonies (1 to 4 in an average* person’s life – one Bachelors degree, one or two Master’s degrees, one doctorate), a career breakthrough (if you change jobs every seven years, you’ll probably have 4 or 5 breakthroughs in your lifetime), wedding (once, or a couple more times if you get divorced), becoming a parent (once or five times, or ten – depends on what you want/what nature allows – in Kikuyu we say, ‘Ciana cititaragwo…’ meaning literally that ‘Children are not (or should not be) counted – one can have as many as they’d like, responsibly, because also, ‘Ciana cititeagwo…’, meaning that ‘Kids shouldn’t be abandoned’…) Feel free to add other high, great, pleasant times.
At the overwhelmingly low point, when everything is dreary, we have experiences like death of a parent (happens only twice if you outlive them), death of a sibling (depends on how many you have), serious illness (one if you’ll succumb to it, or maybe two or three in your lifetime), job loss (getting fired could happen to anyone, once, or a few more times), divorce (once, or a few more times), and so on. You get the drift.
That’s just how life is. Overwhelming experiences, both good and bad, are few and far between. In fact, cumulatively, those days of ‘overwhelm’, of cresting and troughing, do not even make up one year of your entire existence, of course, with a few exceptions, e.g., if you or your parent are terminally ill for a long while, that can feel like a perpetual trough, but even then, it doesn’t take up the majority of your life. That’s how life is.
Most of life, if you think about it, is ordinary. There’s usually nothing major happening, and those seasons are what we will refer to as ‘Whelm’, as shown below:
The ‘whelms’ are marked as ‘X’, the many days in between crests and troughs.
Life if whelming. It’s ordinary. You wake up, prepare for work, get to work, work, call a friend or your grandparent during breaks, gossip with your colleague about your toxic or great boss, leave work, pass by your favourite bakery to treat yourself to cookies, probably buy some for your family members, get home, shower, stub your little foot against your bed, scream about it, wear your favourite lotion, call a friend to tell them about the great guy you just met, receive a call from your brother asking for 1k urgently, KPLC misbehaves, then they restore the power, then you iron the next day’s outfit, you have dinner, you set your alarm, you sleep, you wake up grumpily in the morning, prepare for work, a reckless driver splashes water on you on your way to the bus stop, or your cab driver tries to talk to you about Ruto’s shitty government as if you don’t already know, you get to the office, you share snacks with your work bestie… During the weekend, you go to church, then do laundry and tidy up, and then visit your family members or attend a family function, then you sign up for hiking, or go for a walk to watch trees and people. And cars. And want to buy one. Nothing here is peculiar, yet that’s what life, truly, is about.
Wouldn’t it be nice to find ways to enjoy the ‘whelms’? Showering is ordinary – zhuzh things up by investing in shower gels or bars that feel great. Listen to an enlightening podcast on your way to the bus stop or when in a taxi. Call your loved ones more often. Don’t wait to gift people during overwhelming seasons only (birthdays, when grieving, etc.). Write letters to your lover, not only on your anniversary, cook your favourite meal more often, not only when you have guests around. Wear that nice outfit to work or church, not only when going on a date. Your favourite crockery? Use them now. You know they’re collecting dust in the cabinet, waiting for the visitors you host twice every year.
Permission, by the powers vested in me by myself, I have granted thee. Go ye, therefore, and enjoy the whelm, okay? Okay, good student!
Yours, whelmingly,
Njoks.
I’m about to whelm my way to the bed for a proper nap. I woke up early today. Am I trying to become the Proverbs 31 woman? There’s no telling.
Don’t forget to share and subscribe if you haven’t yet. Also, read this previous blog to ‘hear my written voice’ in 2018. It’s probably my oldest blog. I was only 20:-) BUILD A BOAT AND HELL, CROSS THE PACIFIC IN IT! I can’t wait to read this year’s blogs in 2040, haha! Thanks for being here, reader.
Conclusively, please continually seek ways to healthily enjoy your ‘whelms’. Be well.
12th April, 2025, Saturday, 1734 hours – timestamp. Njoki starts writing this post. I’ve not actually eaten bread today, not through my mouth.
Today’s a Saturday, yay, and it’s definitely my favourite day of the week, because, hello Sabbath!?!? Honestly, I love the Sabbath. I do. It is a reminder of creation, and a necessity, after toiling the earth for six days. I love that God set apart this day for rest, and although I’ve not been keeping the whole day holy and restful as I should, I love that automatically, my body goes into rest. It’s totally due to nurture, cos I was raised in a very Adventist family – I’m talking about not watching TV from Friday evening to Sabbath evening (exception of Kurasini SDA Church Choir music), cooking Saturday’s meals on Friday, staying in church the whole day on Saturday, not going to school like the rest of my classmates on Saturdays, even when there were exams… My body got used to ‘shutting down’ on Fridays and getting reactivated in the evening on Saturday.
Today’s blog isn’t about my Adventist family, but a sharing of today’s sermon, presented by Elder Mar Rotich. I won’t break anything down – just copying directly from my notes app and pasting here. If you’re a Christian, this might be good for you – if, like me, you’ve been missing a few church services, not doing periodic daily devotions, not worshipping enough*…
The notes:
12/04/2025 SERMON What have I given up because of food, like Esau?
Exodus 16:3 And the children of Israel said unto them, Would to God we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the flesh pots, [and] when we did eat bread to the full; for ye have brought us forth into this wilderness, to kill this whole assembly with hunger.
Genesis 25:34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and pottage of lentiles; and he did eat and drink, and rose up, and went his way: thus Esau despised [his] birthright.
Even Jesus performed many ‘food miracles’. ‘Food’ is mentioned about 1200 times in the Bible. ‘Bread’ is mentioned about 230 times. Jesus, then, says, ‘I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.’ Spiritual malnourishment is as real as they come. We need three core ‘nutrients’, akin to vitamin, proteins, and carbs:
A relationship with our Maker – reading the Bible regularly (1 Tim 4:6).
Worship – song… (Psalm 96:1)
Serve – have an outlet (idleness sucks – Eze 16:49 Behold, this was the iniquity of Sodom, pride, fulness of bread, and abundance of idleness was in her and in her daughters, neither did she strengthen the hand of the poor and needy.) Proverbs 11:25 The liberal soul shall be made fat: and he that watereth shall be watered also himself.
John 6:27 Labour not for the meat which perisheth, but for that meat which endureth unto everlasting life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: for him hath God the Father sealed. Basically saying that we should have our priorities right. We should seek to be nourished spiritually, even as we seek physical nourishment- bread and all:-)❤️
The end!
Feel free to read the Bible verses in brackets. May our good Lord be continually good to us, as He has been.
May your evening be great! Mine will be – I’m going to a cool joint to experience a South African artiste, live. If you know me, you know I should’ve been born South African cos their music makes my blood dance, my ovaries tingle, the hairs on the back of my hair stand up, pluuuussss, I’ll be in GREAT company. I’m sooo grateful.
Stay with me. You’ll be able to answer that question at the very end.
Hello, first of all. I truly hope you’ve been well. I have been mostly well. This morning, I am feeling GREAATT – it rained leopards and hyenas last night, so I slept like a sloth, and I woke up to cuddles with my nephew, and to a big ass mug of my favourite tea. I feel invincible.
As I’m blogging right now, there are plenty of background noises, because I’m babysitting my nephews and little cousins. They’re playing hide and seek and I can’t help but notice how evolved and woke these little ones are. We used to sing, ‘Brikicho, bantureeee. Ni hivyoooo? Hapaaaannnaaa…’ These ones are singing actual words with the ‘Ready or not, here I come…’ The older ones are playing hide and seek, and the little ones are like, ‘Liam amejificha kwa bedroom’ and the older ones are yelling at them for spoiling their game, and I’m here shouting ‘Weee’ every two minutes. Interesting times!
Recently, one of my aunts lost her mother-in-law (cancer be damned), so today, almost all my family members are in Gilgil for the burial. I didn’t go so I could stay here with the kids. I was supposed to be in my house alone, working on something, or sleeping, or something, or having breakfast at 11 am., unlike today where I had to wake up by 8 am. to prepare breakfast. Kids wake up early and it’s painful. It’s so noisy that I cannot concentrate on anything intense, which got me thinking that yes, indeed, the cost of love is inconvenience. That’s just the way it is.
One of the older ones playing hide and seek is called Kristel. I remember this day vividly – Friday, 8th April 2016. At the time, I was doing my computer lessons, like many Kenyans do right after completing high school. I was just about to leave my Microsoft Excel class to probably join another, when I received a call from Aunty Mary, my mother’s little sister, Mama Kristel, asking me to go to her house hurriedly, to collect her hospital bag and to take it to the Kenya Defence Forces Memorial Hospital. She had gone in for a routine check-up, but had to go in for an emergency cesarean section delivery (April is the Cesarean Awareness Month, btw. All hail mothers! You rock!) The cost of love is inconvenience. I had to leave that class, go collect her house key somewhere, take a matatu to her house, collect her hospital bag and pack a few other things, head out to Mbagathi Road… I got to the hospital in good time. Kristel was born early, on the 9th of April 2016. She’s 9 now, and we love her, to bits.
Yesterday, I spent the afternoon shopping for a loved one. It was fun and tiring. Last night, I had to wake up five times to cover my nephews and cousins. They hate blankets. Inconvenience is the cost of love. My aunts and uncles had to cancel their commitments today to travel to Gilgil to be with their sister, Aunty Ciku…
Think about it. A major part of love, of building community, is inconvenient. It demands that we drop whatever the hell we’re doing to be there for others, to look outside of ourselves. Talking to a friend until 1 am. because their sadness cannot let them sleep is inconvenient. Inviting friends, cooking for them, and washing a million dishes afterwards is inconvenient. Having to save up for friends’ birthdays is inconvenient… We also inconvenience others – I know my sister hates to see me coming with the ‘I need skincare items sis. Please buy me X, Y, and Z…’ She will buy them for me, but I know it’s an inconvenience. Being vulnerable, even in romantic relationships, is also inconvenient. Yes, it allows you to experience depth in the relationship, but also opens up the possibility of getting hurt. Inconvenience is the cost of love.
Love/ building community requires sacrifice. Heck, God gave His son as a sacrifice at Calvary. ‘Giving’ is an indispensable aspect of love – giving of ourselves, our love, our time, our money, our gifts, our efforts… It may be inconvenient, but I know that I wouldn’t have it any other way? Would you have it any other way? No? I thought so.
Allow yourself to be inconvenienced. Allow yourself to inconvenience others. Rally your friends and family for support when you need to. Call them at midnight. Rant. Cry together. Have them take care of your pets and plants whenever you’re out of town. Freaking inconvenience the hell out of each other, because love involves a lot of that – it’s not always easy, convenient, or uncostly, and that’s okay.
May your Thursday be great. Mine will be. It is – our children’s chaos notwithstanding.
Adios, reader!
Yours, with love,
Njoks.
Cheers!This cat has seen it all. Armani inconveniences the hell out of it.
Also, about community, read this old blog if you haven’t yet: WE’RE ALL OF THEM!
About a week ago, I bought canvas, acrylic paint, and a brush, to satisfy the longing for doing something for the first time. I had never painted on canvas, despite there being sip-and-paint events almost every weekend somewhere in Nairobi.
On Wednesday, after a long day in the CBD, I brewed black tea, set up my working station, and got to work.
First, I got inspo online – I was torn between Pablo’s cubism and Jan Skacelik’s abstract art. The former seemed quite complex for a beginner, so I settled for Jan’s. Abstract art.
I decided not to follow step-by-step guidelines on YouTube so as to make my process more original. So, I selected the picture, studied it, and then drew it on the canvas.
3. Then, I got my tools ready and started painting. It was such a calming experience – felt like nothing mattered other than the brush in my hand, the canvas… The strokes.
4. The top part of my art ended up having an interesting colour. It was supposed to be a lighter shade of brown, but because it was my first time painting, I didn’t know the right proportions of paint to use on that size of canvas, with that kind of art, so I ended up having more paint on the tray. I didn’t want to waste it so I mixed the remaining yellow, green, and blue paints, and added a layer to the light-brown section.
5. Overall, I was pleased with my work. The whole process took two hours and fifteen minutes.
6. I gave it a few minutes to dry and excitedly hang it on my wall. Painting, I found, is a reminder that perfection, is indeed, an illusion. My painting isn’t perfect – my lines, aren’t straight, the curves aren’t smooth enough, I painted outside the lines several times, yet, it still looks decent. Are you waiting to be perfect at something to get it done and/or put it out there? Written a book that you don’t want to publish cos you think it’s not good enough? Waiting to release that song, but you keep telling yourself that your voice is not good enough? Who lied to you? Who lied to us?
Pursuing perfection means missing out on opportunities to learn from our ‘failures’. Trial and error is frequently how we learn the most essential things. Now, I know the right proportions of paint to use, how to draw better on canvas, when to dip the brush in ink, when to use lighter strokes… My second piece will be better than my first. My third will be even better than the second – it will be my magnum opus, because the third’s time’s the charm?
Do that thing – ‘done is better than perfect’.
7. Peggy called me twice during my painting session. My phone was on DND mode, so I called her back and we talked for 1.5 hours. I love my friends, and my art, and Sundays. May yours be great.
I really love whatever’s been happening to me this week. Well, it’s only been two days of waking up at 5 am., and I kinda love that I get to have a longer day:-) I woke up at 5 am. on Monday, then at 9 am yesterday. (this is the person I really am), and I’ve woken up at 5 am. today (the person I aspire to be). I read the book, ‘The 5 AM. CLUB’ by Robin Sharma sometime in 2020 and I got the hype about waking up early, and did it for two days, and stopped, cos let’s be honest – in 2020, the world demanded that we slow down. Hello Covid?
I know I’ll be feeling sleepy by 4 pm., but it won’t matter cos by 9 am. today, I’ll have gotten four hours of work in, so I can have a slow afternoon, of reading, napping, painting, or whatever. My dad and Solomon would be hella proud of me, lol – my dad is a HUGE ADVOCATE for waking up early. Solomon in Proverbs 31 lauds women who wake up before dawn to prepare food and plan the day. Guess who he was talking about there? Me, guy. Njoks.
This post isn’t about sleep, or alarms, or rising early, though. I just needed two paragraphs of celebrating myself for being an early riser, haha.
This post is about that thing on your head – your hair. Your mane. Do you have a name for it? No? I don’t either. I probably should, like those girls who name their boobies – Amanda (left boobie) and Alexis (right boobie), or Amani (left boobie) and Upendo (right boobie), or Wanjiru and Mumbi… I would probably name my hair ‘Uwepo’, which translates to ‘Presence’ cos one thing my hair has been, is PRESENT . I’ve just always had it, even when I was studying in Nyanza and had to keep it short.
Recently, I had an interesting experience – This may sound like story za jaba, but here it is – I think there’s actually something spiritual about having locks. For 25 years of my life, I had loose, black hair – predominantly in cornrows for the first 13 years (primary school), and cut short in high school, and in braids or bantu knots or twists or twist-outs or puffs in campus. In 2023, I locked my hair cos I was tired. I was tired of washing, treating, detangling, periodic heat styling, and having to choose a hairstyle every four to five weeks. Plus, I was going back to school and felt like I just didn’t have the energy nor time to manage my big, thick hair.
Now, when left alone (zero to low manipulation (just keeping it clean)), an African person’s hair locks automatically, cos of how curly our hair is – think about how your hair gets when it’s loose, without straightening and combing daily. I wanted to hasten the process, so I went to the hairstylist for lock partitioning/sizing and left it alone – it’s been 1.5 years since. I only wash it, and barely apply anything. In fact, for a year, you’re advised not to even oil it – just wash, and let it be. Sebum, the oil produced naturally by the scalp, suffices to nourish the hair as it locks, and even, I think, when it’s loose.
Being a loose natural almost automatically makes you a product junkie – consumerism is promoted like no one’s business- prepoo, shampoo, rinse-out conditioner and treatment, leave-in conditioner and treatment, oil, butter, mousse, styling gel, different combs and brushes, a laundry list of braid types to choose from…
Now, I only have shampoo and a hair spray, and somehow, I feel soo connected, to something, to God, to myself, to my ancestors also? That might be a bit farfetched. I don’t know much about what Ellen White’s work, but I know she says somewhere that we should be ‘modest’ (I put this word in quotes because I don’t like it – ‘modesty’ is used as a weapon against women to sit pretty, not speak up not provoke… I’ll invite Millie Odhiambo to speak about this sometime in future, lol) by wearing our hair out as is, natural, avoiding hair extensions, braids, and wigs, and by so doing we encourage mental clarity because ‘wigs add baggage’ both literally and spiritually, as it were.
In the past, whenever I’d hear Adventist pastors say that, I’d be like, ‘Alaa! Really? Sounds a bit farfetched tbh… What’s really wrong with braids and wigs? Y’all are being a bit extreme…’, cos boy, did I love knotless braids!? Fluffy kinky nyasuba braids? I’m not saying braids and wigs and chemicals and treatments are bad. No. I’m just saying that somehow, I feel better and different without them.
I locked my hair, and I think I understand why God asked Nazarites to grow theirs out – why Samson had locks – why it represented/was his strength. Why the powerful Mau Mau who fought for our independence had locks. Even Rastafarians know something we don’t – they keep their hair like that to show devotion to God (they call him ‘Jah’) and to avoid the materialistic and oppressive Western world – the materialistic world that made us believe that straight hair is the only ‘perfect hair’, introducing relaxers and flat iron tools and everything. I have to say, again, that every woman/person should wear their hair as they please – even now I can throw on a wig when I feel like it. You’re allowed to texlax or relax it, or to dye it red, or to install long braids… This blog is just your cue to rethink how you see and take care of your hair, because there’s something there.
In fact, my friend and I were talking sometime last week and she said, ‘Btw, I shaved my hair. I felt like it was carrying a lot of trauma…’ She was basically saying that her hair was carrying bad energy cos of some experience she had when having that hair, and I agree with her fully, cos a few days before we had that conversation, a man randomly touched my hair in town (a tout at Koja, Nairobi), like, ‘Wow! Supuuu! Uko smart na hizo locks zimeweza…’ He also had locks, really long and luscious ones but I didn’t touch him cos I respect people’s personal space. I don’t like being touched by strangers. I know you don’t either. Anyhoo, when he touched my hair and held some of my locks in his hands for a couple of seconds, I literally felt as if power had left me… It was a very strange and interesting feeling. Perhaps it was just in my head, I don’t know.
What is your hair? Does it mean anything to you? Other than for spiritual reasons that you may not believe in, don’t you think that growing your hair out as naturally as possible is better for our planet’s health, and consequently, ours too? Don’t you think it’s more sustainable? Braids are made of plastic fibers. Do you know where they go after you’ve uninstalled them, every four weeks? All those oils and conditioners in your bathroom packaged in plastic? Do you really think you need four tubs of conditioners and so on – for rinsing out, for leaving in and so on? Do you think it’s sustainable? No?
The planet, our home, demands that we do better, as it flashes red warning signals. Pluuusssss, our hair, loose or locked, is cute and big and more often than not, it defies gravity, so why not wear it natural, with minimal products, more often?
Today, you are Sharon, and I need you to calm down. Do you feel like you should? Yes? I thought so.
Hi, reader. What’s good? I hope you have been alright. I’ve mostly been well, and I thank our good God.
Now, last week, I did not blog even once, and yesterday, briefly, I beat myself up about it because ‘Njoki, look at you being inconsistent. You said you’d be blogging daily. See, you’re breaking your own promises to yourself. Are you even serious about your goals and all the plans you have for your blog? Get your act together.’ I sat in that for a short while and then remembered something I learnt a while back, about speaking to yourself, or thinking about yourself, in the second or third person perspective, especially when tempted, or already are, to talk to yourself harshly – negative self talk.
Granted, self- accountability is important – it is healthy and productive to check in with yourself on your goals, but it’s not okay to put yourself in a bad mood by talking to yourself as though you’re your own enemy, or your own mean primary school teacher. I know you are a decent person, so how would you talk to your friend if they failed to achieve something? (2nd person). How would you talk to your friend about your other friend who didn’t do what they had said they’d do? (3rd person).
I know, for sure, that I wouldn’t tell my friend, ‘Peggy, look at you being inconsistent. You said you’d be blogging daily. See, you’re breaking your own promises to yourself. Are you even serious about your goals and all the plans you have for your blog? Get your act together. Stop making excuses…’, but I can talk to myself like that? Neither would I tell my friend Kimetto, ‘Kimetto, look at Peggy being inconsistent. She said she’d be blogging daily. See, she’s breaking her own promises to yourself. Is she even serious about her goals and all the plans she said she has for her blog? She needs to get her act together…’
We are kind to other people, but sometimes, we’re very unkind to ourselves. Today is the last day of March, meaning that the first quarter of the year is done. You probably set goals at the start of the year:
Work out four times every week.
Avoid Quickmart hotdogs.
Drink 3 litres of water daily.
Get at least 7 hours of sleep every night…
Perhaps your reality is:
Worked out in January only.
Been eating Quickmart hotdogs three times every week.
Last drank water 3 days ago cos it’s been raining and cold, and I only drink water when it’s hot.
I sleep at 2 am. scrolling mindlessly on Instagram and wake up at 5 am. to prepare for work – I’m grossly sleep-deprived (seriously, though, you need to take your sleep seriously, if this is you, lol. This is me telling you gentlyyyyy, in 2nd person)
Can you do better in Q2 and the rest of the year? Absolutely. It’s okay that you’ve not achieved everything you had set out to achieve – let us respect the limits of our humanity. To be human is to not get it ‘right’ all the time. I mean, even God, your Creator, extends grace to you, His creation. He’s superior. Why would YOU, the creation, be that hard on yourself for ‘failing’? Let’s rethink that.
So, yesterday, after sitting briefly in negative self talk, I leaned in to the 2nd person and said, ‘Njoki, you are serious about your goals and the plans you have for the blog. It’s okay that you’ve not blogged for a minute – you’ve been feeling unmotivated, you were in the throes of a break-up, and you also had an assignment that required more of your time. Plus, you have been consistent. It’s okay that you didn’t have the inspiration to write, and you don’t even have to do it today. WordPress will be ready when you are. Your readers will be ready when you are. Take it easy, okay?’ That’s how I’d have talked to my friend, and I am my own friend. I should be. Are you?
Have you been hard on yourself about anything – some goals or some habits you want to cultivate or break? Talk to yourself in 2nd or 3rd person today. You wouldn’t be mean to your friends, so do not be unnecessarily mean to yourself, either.
I’m getting my mojo back so I’ll be writing a lot more – I’m excited for Q2.
Thank you very much for being here, reader. I hope you missed me cos sure as hell, I had missed writing.
It’s a beautiful Friday afternoon – starting to write this at 1357 hours, hoping to be done by 1430 hours, right before my nephew, Armani, gets home from school. Where does time go?? He is now a whole pupil who knows the alphabet, number, and colours, and he has opinions!? He was a cute teeny-weeny child just the other day – the real OGs know. Where does time go?
I’ve asked that question two times now, and I find myself asking the same question whenever I’m on my phone, usually on Instagram. I never go there to do just one thing. Well, sometimes I do, like, ‘Ah! I saw furniture store X somewhere, let me follow them on IG so I can be seeing more of their work…’, then I get on Instagram and ‘forget’ to just follow them. I end up scrolling, even for an hour. Perhaps I’m undisciplined. Certainly, the algorithm ensures that we’re glued to our screens, because that’s how they (the social media platforms and advertisers) benefit, as they monetize our data, AND ATTENTION. I learnt this sometime back from a docuseries called ‘The Social Dilemma’ on Netflix.
They are all interconnected. Think about it: you search for a product y on your chrome browser, say, a linen shirt. Then you scroll for two minutes trying to find the best store, there on chrome. A few minutes later, you check your IG and suddenly see about five posts from stores selling linen items. The same thing will happen on YouTube, and before you know it, it’s been 2 hours. Poor eyes. Poor thumb. Poor brain. Information overload. More money for those guys. Perhaps you’ll purchase the linen shirt from one of the stores, or not.
They are smart – they have to be. They use algorithms to create addictive experiences, analyzing your data to personalize content and advertisements, which translates to higher revenue through advertising and possibly, selling.
I primarily use WhatsApp which for a long time didn’t feel like ‘social media’, cos it was just about me connecting with friends and family, and acquaintances from church or school or wherever. Then, gradually, Meta started ‘social-medializing’ it – they introduced status updates (which I love), then introduced channels (for football, entertainment, education, etc.), and communities (for hobbies such as hiking, for church activities, and so on). Then very recently, they added the music feature to the WhatsApp status section, and I ABSOLUTELY DISLIKE IT. WhatsApp is starting to feel noisy, and I know I love to make noise on WhatsApp – I post almost daily, and engage with my community daily, but I’ve been able to do that because WhatsApp felt more regulated. Now, I’m afraid, it doesn’t. I don’t have X. Neither do I have Snapchat and TikTok and everything else – I use IG and YouTube, and only created my IG account when I started doing business – first, in 2020 (Forever Living products) and deleted the app when I left the business, then reactivated IG recently for www.econjia.com.
Granted, social media has NUMEROUS BENEFITS! I mean, a good number of people have built careers off of social media, and that’s GREAT. We, businesspeople, use social media to share knowledge, create community and market our products/services, which leads to referrals, partnerships, revenue generation, and all of that good stuff. I’m into that. Oh, it’s also great for entertainment – my friends and sister are always sending me reels. I send them some too. It’s fun, until one funny reel leads you to fifteen funnier ones. You know how it goes.
My friend, Kimetto, taught me how to post properly on IG and I had fun yesterday – posting polls and all, and interestingly, gaining a few more followers today. Just like most things, it’s a system – there are things you can/should do to increase engagement – post reels, follow other creatives and comment on their work, post more frequently, post at certain times… It’s a lot. It feels like a lot of work, and although consistency is the name of the game, I feel like social media isn’t for me.
Furthermore, I am a highly sensitive person, so I absorb emotions through the screen, and sometimes I need a few minutes after doomscrolling to calm my nervous system down, because there’s always something negative online – someone was thrown out of a moving SuperMetro because they didn’t have KSh. 30. A kid was raped and murdered, and her body was dumped in a dam. A man poured acid on his wife. The president continues to make terrible decisions. Gaza. A French woman was gang-raped for years by her husband and his buddies. It’s a lot.
Then, there is this other side of consumerism – the side that makes me want to buy almost every good thing I see. La Roche Posay sunscreen is great. Try the Uncover one too. CosRX does the job well too. You want a console. Furniture Palace has such good stuff. So does Ashley Furniture Store. There’s a cheaper fundi at Kasarani, actually. No, actually, you can DIY. Here are three videos showing you how to make a console at home. You want to design your space. Here are 10,000 interior designers, with 70 different styles. Decision fatigue. Mental tiredness. Comparison, because the girl from your high school who was in form one when you were in form four now has three cars, a wealthy husband, a child, a private chef, and a dog, while you’re there trying to figure out what to cook for dinner, so you can set your alarm, to wake up early to go to work a job you hate.
Social media is a tool, undeniably, when used in a controlled, intentional manner, like, ‘I’ll just get on there, create one post for EcoNjia, follow guys with similar interests, respond to inquiries, and leave. I’ll be there for 20 minutes max.’ If discipline fails, and your screen time is crazy, I think it’s important to rethink social media use. What is in it for you? Entertainment? Is it? Enhanced connection? Access to information? Anxiety cos of comparison? Eye problems? Time wastage, when you could have been doing more ‘real’ stuff, as it were? Connecting with people and things around you? Reading a book? Being involved in actual community work in your church and schools around your home?
I’ve been feeling like social media is not for me. I also know that I need more people to know about my work to boost impact and revenue, so it’s a dance – trying to figure out other ways to market my work, possibly hiring a social media manager to deal with EcoNjia’s online presence so that I don’t have to, and/or blogging more consistently, delivering high-quality material, and hiring an SEO expert to ensure that my website can be found more easily, without having to use IG or TikTok or X.
Yes, I feel calmer and more grounded whenever I’m off social media. Yes, I’m afraid that quitting will hurt my business. Yes, I know there are other ‘quieter’ ways to market my work. No, I’m not sure that I’ll delete my IG soon. I’m just really seriously considering it. I think I’ll quit – we’ll see what happens. Do you like social media? Has it enslaved you or are you using it mindfully and sustainably? Let me know – I’m curious.
This ka-face is cute, lol!
My nephew isn’t home yet. He should be here soon, yay!
Now, I’m about to go brew some tea (read this tea if you didn’t, and get some tea CELEBRATING A WIN), and enjoy the yummy chapati my aunty oh so lovingly cooked earlier today, yay!
May you have a beautiful, restful weekend, surrounded by love, from your family, your lover, your friends, or from yourself.
Rusty Fingers 