The Secret

Good afternoon my lovely readers,

The past week has been such an amazing week for me, I got to facilitate a conference with an amazing group of people. For all of you that missed Gen 50+ tough luck, but you could always try again next year.

So the other day I was going through my old documents and I came across a poem that I wrote back in 2012 and I remembered how I got into poetry. It was once during break time where my English teacher forced us to write a poem for a The Young Writers competition. She told that we wouldn’t be allowed to go for break unless we completed our poems. I hated standing on those break lines at the tuck shop and so I opted to finish my poem as fast as I could. My 15 year old self hated English language, because I wasn’t that great at it. I was that kid that only did English tuition (Shout out to Mr. Atinga’s tuition center)

So anyway I wrote the poem and it ended up getting published and I was so excited. Here it goes..

The Secret

This girl cries, striving to overcome,

A pain that’s overloading,

Her pretty little heart,

She has a million thoughts,

But is unwilling to utter  a word,

Though tear after tear,

She always smiles.

Her soul is filled with desolation,

Her eyes are filled with pure distress,

Her pain is immense,

But she still never dares to share,

Surprisingly this little girl always smiles.

I intended to publish this post last year, but I forgot about it. I think it’s fair enough to say this is a good time to share it.



It is the Holy Saturday, more commonly known as Easter eve and I urge you all to meditate on the love and mercy that the Lord has bestowed upon you. Think of all the times He has shown himself present in your life.
I honestly wish that I was posting on a lighter note, but it’s hard to celebrate after loosing 147 innocent lives.
I will not explain what happened because we probably all already know, but I will share my thoughts on the matter on the YouTube video below.

First I would like to send my deepest condolences to all those who lost their loved ones. I also wish all those injured and undergoing treatment a speedy recovery.

Stay tuned I will soon be posting a spoken word piece I wrote in memory of the 147 lives lost.

I wish you all a safe Easter.

I am a flower.

Aloha, on Wednesday Muthoni, Michael and I decided to perform for our school literature evening on Friday, that’s was pretty risk but isn’t life about taking risks. Hope you enjoy it!

You wished upon a star
Saw the mother snap back and now you’re where you started
My heart aches when I see your 
That’s the story of this life but my soul saw it twice
Never had a problem but my soul seems to fight through the artifice life

But it’s the flower

It’s the flower

It’s the flower

It’s the flower

It’s the flower

We were walking on clouds but the greys come down and they wiped us all out.

I am the flower that lives in the leafy suburbs,

But Last night I heard loud piercing sounds,

Last night I heard a man cry,

The say I’m meant to talk white because of where I come from,

They ask me if I have any white neighbours because I live in a gated community,  

                              They ask me where I draw my inspiration from, perhaps from thugs firing shots in the hood                      

 But yet I have never even lived a day in a flat.

I wanna be an atlantean
Let’s get the 10, let’s get the 10 x 4
And we’ll knock down the door, knock down the door
We’ll see what they’ve been hiding
Let me tell you bout the story of Poseidon
He was a young boy who was enlightened, kinda like Jaden
Kinda like the way we, look in the sky and we see the chem trails
And we nearly all cried, and then they just die we merely just tried to help them
The government is tryna tryna sell them not help them
But, the indigos are here we remembered
Remembered how we can all shift the weather
Because, love is the air we breathe, the people we see
The realization that were all in unity
So you and me, and I and I

images (1)
We’re the flower
We’re the flower
We’re the flower
We’re the flower
It’s the flower
We were walking on clouds but the greys came down and they wiped us all out.

Then they say I must be filthy rich,

But I tell them I just have hard working parents.

So they say that I must be better off than most,

But all they do is go out of their way.


Yet again the say, “you must be damn spoiled”

But I reply they live by “Spare the rod, Spoil the Child”.

Just like mosquitoes the art don’t discriminate.

I’m a flower.



Not Your Definition of Love

As promised, I will share my  talent show performance with you.I was honored to work on the piece with one of my very talented friends Muthoni Kamau alongside her sister Kena who played the piano for us.

“I will not begin with once upon a time,

Romeo and Juliet are not my inspiration and so I will not narrate to you a boy meets girl kind of love story.

This is not about how the golden shoe fit Cinderella and they lived happily ever after.

I will not describe the feeling I get when his big brown eyes admire my beauty when my presence fills the air or the butterflies in my tummy when he compliments my smile.

This is not about the sense of security I get when his arms are wrapped around me or about the time I told him I liked him first and visited the friend zone.

I was rejected and settled for a guy who just wanted to get in between my thighs. But this is not a fairy tale based on your definition of love.

I have lost because fear made me belief that I was too short to take the shot that would possibly determine my fate and lead to my success. I failed to realize that the height of the goal was within my reach and all that I needed to do was score.

I drew my battle because I refused to stand out I because I assumed I was too short, too short to reach my goals because the length of time I invested in myself was insufficient. I have sold myself short but my balance remains sufficient.

I know, I need to engage and embrace myself more.

This is about the time you were too shy to make a new friend,

About the time you were not afraid to tell him you liked him first,

About the time I let him in because of his mind and not his size,

About the day you learned to express yourself,

This is about the time you chose love over gold,

This is about the day I spoke out and wasn’t afraid to be termed mad.

This is not about him, this is about you”

I must warn you if you haven’t listened to Sia -Elastic heart, listen to it before you watch this because you probably will not like it as much if you listen to it after. Yes’ I am implying Muthoni has a better voice than Sia. We came in second place, it’s sad to say that was our last talent show performance, finishing school is kinder sad.


1975  a family was born, Rusinga

Then I turned three years old and my parents dragged me to school, I cried and threw tantrums but you embraced me.

I played in the sand pit and bruised my knees, but you wiped my tears and then embraced me.

Four years of afternoon naps and ballet lessons marked a journey into a new beginning for me.

What an exciting beginning for me because I could finally join the big kids and carry a big backpack and get homework at the end of the day.

I remember, happily marching into these gates in my little grey skirt and blue checked shirt, eager to learn and you embraced me.

Three days of the week, week after week, religiously I sang hymns during assemblies and hymn practice off the hymns of praise book. Sometimes I sang a little bit of key , but it don’t matter,

By His grace, that key unlocked my potential and opened a new chapter in my life, High School they called it.

At this point I was at the peak of my adolescent years, such exciting years these were; so much so that from time to time I would get too rowdy and out of hand but you never let me slip off your hand.

You always held me strong, mentoring me daily during devotion, you taught me to subtract my flaws and add His Spirit, The Holy Spirit.

You corrected my mistakes but even with my permanent flaws, you embraced me.

You nurtured me into womanhood and walked me through my first prom where I wore make-up, high shoes and danced through the night. You watched me grow into the woman I am today and through the journey you embraced me and for that I will forever be grateful.

You welcomed me back into your gates once more and now I was the senior in the school, you gave me space to create my future but still continued to remind me that ” The Fear of  The Lord is the beginning of wisdom”.

With hopes of setting great examples for those whose follow me you guide me, you taught me to serve, you taught me to excel, you prepared me for the world , I was a caged bird and you set me free.

40 years later you would be proud to see what I’ve become,

I was the first African woman to win an Oscar Award,

I met Obama and 20 other Heads of State,

I am the Executive Director of a large Kenyan Organisation,

I am the finalist for a National singing competition,

I am a news anchor at a prominent TV Station,

I am the best fashion blogger in the country,

The list could go on and on and on but I only hope for one thing, I hope and pray that the legacy our family created over 40 years ago lives on, that everyone who was here, is here and will be here will impact the world in whichever way they can.

We have no excuse not to do so, because Life begins at 40, this is our time.

1975, history was made.