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Taking Stock – The Stories Never Really End

Here’s a little ‘Taking Stock’ style post, I’ve never done one. There has never been a need to. Now the need has a risen. I’d like to update you guys on a few things concerning a couple of previous posts, but none of the updates is substantial enough to stand on its own as a post so here we are.

I shall back-track in chronological order.

Childlike Humanity

I normally walk to work. How blessed am I to be able to do this? Walk as I watch Nairobians’ productivity melt away like the fuel in the engines of their stationary cars in traffic, all this while I practise my Spanish. Blessings upon blessings upon blessings these are! The Kileleshwa-Kilimani environs are residential so I walk past very many houses, apartment blocks, little gated communities, the likes, most of which have watchmen.

‘Why Are You So Loud?’ Sentiments of a Silent Soul

Do loud people know that they are loud? I feel as though this is something I have previously thought and written about. I don’t think it had a whole post dedicated to itself though. So here goes… Do loud people realize how loud they are? Do people occasionally, casually, point out to them, as they so often do with quiet people, how loud they are?

Do You Look Poverty Straight in The Eye? Or Do You Avert Your Eyes?

When walking home, there is a dirty and desolate-looking man coming your way. He is limping. His right foot is covered by a plastic bag. A dirty plastic bag that has been trudged through mud. His clothes may have been of varied colours once, when they were still dignified, now they are all the colour of dirt, of dust, of poverty, of homelessness. They are the same colour as the sack that is weighing him down. The sack he carries over his shoulder. This sack that likely contains his life’s possessions. Everything he owns, is on his back. The clothing he wears and the sack he bears.

Kat and the Cats

Kat:

It’s 6.32am. I am leaving the house 17 minutes later than I should for my morning run. This means everything about my day is going to be slightly delayed but, if nothing else, I must run. It makes me feel good. So good. Plus 1.7km is such a short distance if you think about it and 11 minutes, the duration of my run, is nothing, a tiny little drop if you look at it in respect of the fact that I have 24 hours in the day.

Chasing Views

*posting this again because it mysteriously disappeared off of my hosting provider’s servers*

I went for a wedding this past weekend. Aren’t weddings just beautiful? I think so. The marriage that comes after, I cannot definitively classify as beautiful or not, the wedding though, weddings are generally beautiful.