YEAR IN REVIEW: 2014

So yesterday I was feeling sorry for myself. Reason being? I’m in the office ALONE, on 22^nd of December, at 10PM. 



PM in the night people. 

The entire 5^th floor was creepily quiet and the only light there was, was in my office and the corridor leading to the washroom. Then I kept hearing footsteps along the same corridor. 

Seriously. Please imagine this, because I worked alone, at my desk, until 11:30 in the p.m., which is one of those "dark" times. And which is also just wrong, but additionally scary as all hell, and at one point, I even called security, because I became convinced that I was about to be murdered. 

Then twenty minutes later, the footsteps became more and more pronounced and I hurriedly removed my shoes (which by the way are very flat silent shoes), tiptoed to the door, put out the lights in the office and I knew this was it. This is how I was going to die because y’all I was supposed to be all alone in the building, and footsteps are just...not normal, really.

But guess what. 

It was not a murderer! Instead, a watchman was there, trying to get to the kitchen to warm his food, and through a miracle of physics and what-all, his footsteps were echoing in my office. It was all a load of fun and terror, and before I learned this helpful bit of information, it is possible that I armed myself with scissors and a stapler, and roamed the office barefoot all Mission-Impossible-ing around the corners, scared out of my fucking mind. 

And totally prepared to prod and co-join someone to death. Because you DON’T KNOW THIS. BUT KILLERS FEAR STAPLERS. Oh, they really do.

And I’ll not go into details of how I left because the parking garage in the basement is also not a nice garage. It is a dark, haunted, terrifying Rape Garage, which is sealed by means of dark, haunted, terrifying Rape Walls.

But I’ll not dwell on that because, really, God has blessed me so much in 2014.

Among many, I got a very rewarding job, which has since exposed me to networks with very important people business wise, I drove my first car, yeeiih! my printing business grew in income by 40%, I finally started rearing pigs after procrastinating for a year, DK and I matured so much in our love, our parents met, I got engaged Yeeeiiih!!!, we started planning our wedding and most importantly, I grew closer to God. I talk to God like a friend now, like when I’m going in for a presentation, I ask Him not to embarrass me because He’ll have to tell me why He did so when we meet?

But frankly, yes, it has been a bumpy ride, but God has proven to be faithful. Merry Christmas guys. Count your every blessing, one by one. See what a millionaire you really are.

And remember to carry spare scissors and staplers when you travel this festive period.

You’re welcome.

Because Bad Things Happen To Good People

Alright, Alright. Just before you start judging in your head, I willingly admit. I’ve been ruined by the internet. I was exposed to the dark depths of its wickedness when I was still too young. 

Eleven years to be exact.

And in our time, that was waaaay too young.

 The said internet then crawled inside me and laid eggs. Those eggs hatched and birthed terrible tendencies that slowly consumed the better parts of my brain (heart?) until all that is left now is a filthy layer of reeking skepticism.

One of the many horrible side effects of this ruination is that it now takes a lot to make me laugh. And sometimes, what tickles my fancy is horrifically dark and disturbing stuff that should in no way cause a human being to giggle.

So last week on one of my evil adventures, I stumbled upon these unfortunate people who probably wished they took off days to just sleep:

Like this guy who might have to sleep at an ex's for a night or two:

Or this guy, who'll never be able to explain to his kids why he lost his job

 

This mum who is most definitely a teenager

Justine

This waiter, who probably made the bride commit murder on her wedding night

And this very 'intelligent' friend:

And I wouldn't be surprised at all if this was Penny from Big Bang Theory

Ha

 

Katie, who texted on her death bed

And because no loyalty in this world compares to that of an xbox?

This proof that City Council Askaris of the entire world are cruel:

So! Happy November y'all, just be a horrible person and none of these will ever be you.

MEETING THE PARENTS: PART ONE

Seriously y’all When did I grow so up??!!! I’m not supposed to be anywhere near TWENTY FIVE!! I’m supposed to be the naive eighteen year old who just joined campus :( The 20 year old being crowned on university runways :(

What is this called? Early Life Crisis?

DK and I went to see the premier of LUCY last week and Morgan Freeman kept saying that the only thing that’s constant in life is TIME. Well, clearly he didn’t mean it so literally after all.

As I was straightening my hair getting ready for church last Sunday, I faced one of my greatest fears. A strand. A grey strand. On my head. My poor little ‘young’ head (please panic with me) because how disrespectful can they get? I firmly pressed it between my thumb and index finger, pulled it out and threw it out though the window. To definitely warn the rest of them.

No, scientifically speaking, is that even acceptable? Do twenty something year olds grow WHITE HAIR or is this a cruel reminder that I was a school going child when my mother was my age?

And Yes! (One of my friends starts his announcements with this inappropriate conjunction, so I’ll find out how it feels to be him in this post)

So And Yes! In the spirit of growing old, (breathers out audibly) I did something last weekend that I consider the most mature activity of my whole life.

I INTRODUCED DK’s PARENTS TO MY PARENTS.

Oh yes I did!!! Our fathers firmly shook hands, our mothers hugged, DK and I uhhm…proudly stared :)

And Yes! as traditions would have it, DK’s parents performed in accordance with our Meru customs and norms that constitute a customary marriage process.

They brought the first element that ties both families together, locally known as Gitundu which declares the intention to marry by the boy’s family.

In our tradition, this is symbolized by a bouquet of Khat, commonly referred to as Miraa and customarily, this is the legendary 'going on one knee' proposal. If I say yes, I’m then expected to pull out a stick from the bunch as confirmation that indeed I’ve agreed to DK’s request for a hand in marriage.

That rested, the older community elders called Njuri Ncheke held a separate meeting and this is where I was valued. My life's worth was calculated in livestock; cows and goats. lol well technically but this is the dowry.

It is a vital element of marriage among many African cultures and is paid before a church wedding is held.

As the dowry negotiations were ongoing, mum’s lady friends were dancing while my friends were all over the compound doing photo shoots which at the time looked fun but going through the pictures now, I have no idea what my mother in law thinks of my friends, "tell me your friends and I'll tell you who you are" not withstanding.

This is the best I could get for individual portraits:

Anne:

Jeydee:

Eve:

 Risper:

Rita:

Maqenna:

 Judy:

Rita's adorable upcoming photographer son, Ryan:

Who is at the age where it's no longer acceptable for his mother to be kissing him on the lips in front of girls:

But we had an amazing time, our parents gave touching speeches about us and I am forever grateful.

To my family for all their love, support and guidance throughout my life and for welcoming DK and his family into ours with open arms.

SOPHIE

Around this time of year, I am always approached by people who want me to write letters of recommendation for them. Why anyone thinks that I am important enough to write a letter of recommendation sort of defies all understanding, but I am guessing that those unfortunate people who do approach me with this request are, at that point, desperate, and have exhausted their options down accordingly.

So, instead of, "I would like a letter of recommendation from a well-respected highly placed professional" (and I am not a member of that group), they have now settled on, "I will happily accept a letter of recommendation from anyone with a pulse, and who is not addicted to miraa, please God." Now, this group of people -- Group Two -- this is the category I fall into. And so do kangaroos, Smokey, my cat, and probably most contestants on Tusker Project Fame.

Also, as I was writing Sophie’s letter, I got to thinking, with the generation behind us, maybe it will get harder to find people who can write your letters of recommendation and do so in complete words and sentences, rather than filling the recommendation page with a perplexing language of annoying text-speak, sort of, "Thx xo muxh 4 axking!! Sophie is v. xmart & kwul!!!OMG!!; u shd let hr wak in yua cmpny. xoxox!! Mwaa!!" Although, now that I have actually typed that out and sort of finished the thought, it occurs to me that, wouldn't that...kind of rock? Seriously, wouldn't it be kind of funny to get a recommendation letter written in high school textspeak? If I were in charge of the world, I would admit the person as a matter of principle. But, I kind of imagine that this is not what the recommendees are hoping for, so I guess I am going to have to restrain myself. And it is hard. And I am, completely, totally off my original point, what were we talking about?

Oh yeah. So, Sophie, is one of my best friends (she’s back on friendship probation currently but that I’ll explain in a different forum) You can read all about her here. She’s also one of the ladies in my life who stay up at night making my cat dinner because I’m down at the coast having a good time and because she’s an amazing person, last week she baked her parents a cake in the shape of a cow eating grass. And because that sentence is true, she needs some letters of recommendation, and she asked the human resource guy to ask me to write one. And that is no problem, because I like Sophie, and Sophie is smart, and it is not difficult to write a recommendation for people who (a) I actually know, (b) I actually like, and (c) Are actually smart. Those recommendations are easy slip-ons! On those recommendations, I can think of things to say other than "Her shoe collection is both extensive in number and unparalleled in variety," or "I am pleased to report that recently, this candidate has been working out more frequently."

But, I got to thinking (God, what’s with this got to thinking thingy today?) when I started writing Sophie's letter, and I started to wonder how, exactly, one could compose a letter of recommendation that actually served to un-recommend someone, but which did so in a way that made it kind of hard to tell, on first glance, that the writer kind of thinks that the person is a dunce. But one where anyone with at least a mild IQ is laughing uncontrollably, and thinking, "Dude, this chic must be a total blockhead. I am going to burn her application as an offering to the cats of the world."

Anyway, I was sort of inspired by this thought, but I was ten times more inspired by the thought that, hey! I get an opportunity to mess with my friend’s head! Because, seeing as she is not an idiot, she will read the letter and know it is not nice, but she will also wonder if I have actually sent it off and now she is stuck with a recommendation that makes people want to sit in a zone after reading it, and HA that is funny to me, particularly if she reads it alone when it is really, really late at night.

So, as soon as the actual, glowing, compliment and accomplishment-filled letter was actually written and mailed, I sat myself down and wrote a second letter. And then I printed that letter on professional letterhead, made a copy of it for Sophie, and gave it to her neighbor to deliver, along with the message that I am always happy to help a friend in need, because I don't know if she knows this or not, but evidently, I am some kind of a saint.

I hereby share this letter with y'all, kangaroos, Smokey White, all the people illustrated in Group 2, and anyone else who wants to find a professional way to communicate the fact that the person you're writing about has the IQ of a spoon. You are all my beloved people, and this is for you:

ANNIE KAGWI’S HANDY LETTER OF NONRECOMMENDATION

(Official names withheld to protect innocent people who are afraid of the zone)

CONFIDENTIAL

Members of Some Fancy Ass Department
Address
More address

RE: Letter of Recommendation for Sophie

To the Members of the Fancy Ass Department:

I am writing this letter at the request of Innocent Member of Department, acting as a referee for Sophie who is awaiting confirmation for employment with your Company. I hope the following proves helpful as you undertake the difficult recruitment process.

I have known Sophie for some amount of time, and I can honestly state that, if you are looking for a person like Sophie to work at your organization, then Sophie is your girl! She will absolutely meet your expectations for someone with her qualifications. Furthermore, the abilities and skills she possesses will satisfy any requirements you may have for those particular skills and abilities. In addition to everything else, Sophie has both interests and hobbies, which she enjoys on some occasions. And, in some limited ways, those interests and hobbies could potentially help Sophie to increase in both skill and ability, thereby enriching her as a person.

Sophie has numerous accomplishments, including some attendance at both educational establishments and in the professional world. In both places, Sophie was continually well known for her various attributes, and clearly met even the lowest expectations for success. No one expected anything less!

To conclude, having known Sophie for an amount of time, I can tell you that there are few people like Sophie in this world. As such, Sophie is a unique individual, and a far cry from other people who are not precisely the same. I am sure that her uniqueness will make quite a difference at your Organization.

For the above reasons, I again offer you this letter of recommendation, and I thank you for your time.

Sincerely,
Annie Kagwi.

P.S.: Sophie is very thoughtful; she baked her parents a cow cake.

If you did not guess, the P.S. is both optional and awesome, and absolutely present on Sophie's letter.

So, tune in soon, my most beloved, so we can all find out whether Sophie supernaturally turned me into a cow.