where am I going with my life, is this what I really want to do with myself? maybe I should just move back in with the folks, hii maisha ya K-south sija zoea, why am I even here in the first place? pride? independence? I guess I always imagined life would be fancier, faster, flashy. u know. like on tv. shame. it sucks that our folks dont tell us about this realities of life, but perhaps thats what life is all about innit? u go out there. u live your life. u experience pain, hurt. hard work. frustration, disappointment, promotions, friendships, rejection and betrayals, but hey im no pessimist.just saying. someone whould have told me, ukihama Runda, usidhani utaishi Kileleshwa. see that was my mindset. my folks live in Runda, nice comfortable life, im done with uni, it stime to look for job, get my own place, hi mambo ya umetoka wapi usiku sitaki. drink all I want with my friends. not have to come home n face mathe and her disapproving look on Sunday morning before she asks, "so tuseme huendi church leo" Ive actually always wanted to answer that mum, I have, I try to speak but apparently, at that hour, after those drinks I swallowed last night, I can only either walk or talk. not both.
So here I am, working some shitty job, lousy hours and for a mere 15geez. magai! what am I meant to do with that, tried living in langata, at least thats a comfy place to live at my age, no dent to my status as such, but, would u believe. I cant afford it. as in rent, in the cheapest place I got was like 21k. sasa ata nikitafuta mtu wakuishi nayeye (been there, done that. not a very good story there, Il write about it some day) I still have to pay well over half my salo. K-south, or Kariobangi south for those of you who dont get lugha ya mtaa, is well within my price range. I only pay 8geez n thats plus maji na stima. after I shop for the hao, still have alot to go on. its a good life. well, thats what I tell the folks. truth is. it hurts. going to bed here, in my ka-tiny single bed, stove's shoved under the bed, having to wipe of bread crumbs from the table before I wekelea my towel on the table n iron my shirt in the morning. this sucks man. yaani I went to skul for this? if my uni mates could see me now. the way we used to light up the states when I was there, sasa niko wapi<? from america to kariobangi. I wonder if fallen angels ever feel that way. they must be going thru some some seriouuusss identity crisis.
I went for lunch at my folks's this weekend, I use one of their cars over the weekends- cant afford to fuel it everyday so I just park it in the local petrol station, pay the wachi kitu kidogo n ask him to angalia it for it
for me. nitakujia baadaye I always say, yet he doesnt see me for another week, anyhu, so I went home on Sunday, my small sis's around, she's in the UK, just graduated actually, and she got a good job huko already so no tarmacking for her, a couple of relas hav come over to salimia her, telling her they way ameleta degree nyumbani-like I didnt get a degree myself-bastards!- so she's getting all the praise and telling us about the way she impressed her boss last fall with her grasp of the financial markets, the bailing out of the Irish economy by the EU- like any of my relas even know what the EU is let alone whats going on in Ireland-showoff!-I felt insignificant, like an outsider to my own family. my own blood. who were all this people and why did we need a tent for all of them I mean, really? hatuko wengi hivyo, I guess I was just hating, so I picked up my Tale (Tusker people, Tusker) and walked of to the edge of the compound to play with my dogs, tell you the truth, I almost cried. it was all too much for me. I was the first bone. ndume. the male son. and yet, eclisped. by the ka third born no less.
and jobo doesnt help either, my boss is as old skul as they come. Mkoloni exact. he tumas me on office errands n im expected to pay for that from my own pocket n when I bring it up, he starts his tu-ma-speeches for the way amenisaidia, ati he gave me a job coz he knows my old man n this is teh thanks I give him? it usually goes on for a while so I zone out everytime he starts teh rant- I picture him falling on my desk, landing on the open stapler, pushing the pencil into his hand as he gropes around for support, I could go on till he bleeds out on the faded red carpet we have in the ofisi but I wont. Im a christian. wacha niwachie Mungu.
So I think Im going through a quarter-life crisi, and I dont know what to do...
