Let me write you a love letter
On this hot, sunny day
Sitting under the shade of our love
I’d like to hold your hand, if I may?

Swimming in the sea of unadulterated emotion
Seeking some respiteHow-to-love
From the constant battle of whims
Racing through my mind

Shall I spend every second cocooned in your arms
Or venture forth and trudge the earth constantly missing your touch
A physical ache I feel, whenever you are not around
Should you decide to leave me now, where will I go?

For our love nest is my sanctuary. My abode.

Take me into your loving arms (As suggested by Ed Sheeran)
Hold me close and never let me go
For I will be lost without you
Never again to be found

My Take


Ever since I can remember, I loved putting pen to paper. As a five year old living in the small town of Kisumu in Kenya which is known for its fish, I would write poems in Hindi, an Indian language that I picked up from watching Bollywood films, as well as English. This would then transform into performances I would act out for my father who always enjoyed it and encouraged me. We later moved to the capital, Nairobi, where I currently dwell.

As I grew older, I began to keep “Secret diaries” where I would write entries about every day things. At the age of eleven, I would write about all my days, but as I grew older, about one entry a year kept my hard backed friend posted on the major changes in my life. I came across my entries from the time I was eleven till last year, while I was cleaning out my old school books. Words cannot express the feeling of nostalgia and amusement which I experienced while reading through each and every entry, literally watching myself grow year by year, yet recognizing the familiar voice coming through the words from every page. It was like meeting an old friend and catching up on all that has happened till date in their life.

While I was in high school, my outlet for any pent up feelings was poetry. Whether it was about my first crush or peer pressure, and all things in between, there is a severely emotional poem about it in my log!

When the time came to pick my career path I felt like a deer caught in headlights, with everyone expecting a suitable answer when they asked me the most dreaded question a student can be asked: “So, what do you want to do now?” If only “I don’t know” could have stopped the flow of questions that followed. I woke up with the ambition of becoming a lawyer one day, to a psychologist the next. Some days I was a model and other days, a marine biologist. Zooming between a physiotherapist and a financial analyst became somewhat of a hobby. Really, there is no hyperbole in these statements I promise!

Eventually, it hit me in the face. It had been there all along. I wanted to be a Journalist. It took several sleepless nights, nagging questionnaires, inner soul search, yoga sessions, long walks and much more for the thing that was in front of me all along to hit me smack in the middle of my face. I was a dealer of words, a weaver of stories, a creative soul. Who was I kidding? I would probably need a financial analyst after drowning in debt from all the law suits filed against my terrible handling of psychological cases. I do dabble in the modeling though which is fun.

Today, I am a second year student, pursuing a B.A in Journalism and a daily show Radio Presenter with some direction in life. I say some because there are just so many choices in life and I am clearly an indecisive human being. While congregating at a hall a couple of weeks back for prayers, I met an old school mate who is studying Economics. A remark she made stayed in my head for days to come.

“Oh, you can write stories to keep us entertained.”

Believe it or not, I think I can write to educate, inform, create awareness, spur a change, influence policy makers and “entertain” too. Journalism seems to rank on a lower level in the hierarchy of careers, which like medieval England, seems to have Medicine at the top with the monarchs, while English majors are subjected to the peasant position at the absolute bottom of the chain.

Obviously, I too was apprehensive when thinking about the “death of print” as the media deemed it. But, magazines and newspapers may be reducing in number only because the words are now travelling from the paper in our hands to the screens on our laps. That is just one facet of the vast Journalistic profession which I was surprised to find has such a great multitude of diverse facets. Paper backs are being produced as e-books. Major media networks are tweeting about the headlines. It’s a revolution, not a funeral. I certainly still plan on writing and publishing my poetry. Maybe a movie script too. A novel is on the agenda as well. I believe as long as I have words to give, there is always someone who will read them, no matter what media they use to do so.

Sincerely hoping this was entertaining enough. If not, well then there is always the comics section. Remember Charlie Hebdo? If simple satire can spur such an outrage of emotions and a global campaign to protect freedom of expression, imagine just how much mere, little words can really do.


Swing baby, swing

Champagne showers,

Liquor laced hours.

Flappers and bobs,

Glitter and gloss.

The world is ablaze

in the post war craze.

Swing baby, swing,

It’s the 1920’s

Immerse in the ecstasy that is life.

Drink in the heady glass full of jazz.

Shake your bootleg to the trumpets beat,

Let it take over your feet.

Glamour and fame,

New money is the game.

Swing baby, swing

It’s the 1920’s

Bonds and bails,

Stocks and sales,

Shooting through the Dollarverse in dazzling speed.

Catch up, catch up or it’ll pass you by

There goes the American dream.

Swing baby, swing

It’s the 1920’s.



Sweet Music

Mellow Music

Slower pace

Snails embrace?

Let the tune take over

Senses in disarray following the notes as they play

I sit at my piano

No white and black bars, but squares instead

Perfectly placed thanks to some technological genius sitting at his polished desk

Typing away

I play my instrument

My tune of words playing on without a care in the world

No rhyme

No rhythm

Let me play my instrument

As I will today

My Take

Time to dust off the gowns

The choir is perfecting their pitch. The teacher’s look elated in a flustered fashion. Students bustle to find a seat as parents anxiously await for the ceremony to begin (or end). Ah, another graduating class is ready to take on the world. Today I had the pleasure of attending my brother’s graduation ceremony. He had completed his O levels, Grade 11, Form 4, and whatever else you may call it in different nooks of the globe. It was a familiar setting, in a familiar venue. This is the school in which I had spent my entire high school life, and the same hall where I had graduated too. But it was truly a whole other experience to be sitting on the guest section as opposed to that allocated for the students. Apart from being able to wear fancy formal attire instead of a school uniform, the major difference was that of perspective. There were speeches on how life ahead was an oyster, and further education the key to unlocking every door. Rosy pictures were painted and castles built high up in the sky. It was a jubilation. I was very excited to remember that feeling while being seated as a graduate with my parents, teachers and fellow students surrounding me, pouring forth words of elation and bestowing me with congratulations.

My brother (left) and I (right)

It was a beautiful moment, one which I was happy to witness my brother experience. But, the real world is a far cry from those rosy pictures (at least in my opinion). The world is a big place, with great things, good and bad, all awaiting people who want to take them up. The only thing you can do to prepare yourself for it, is know who you want to become and where you want to be. In essence, let your dream guide you on your journey. Simple words, which are not too simple to follow! However, one speech which caught my attention was made by the Guest of Honor, who spoke about the importance of utilising the mental capacity obtained by students in order to better Africa. After completing school here in Kenya, a lot of graduates are set to travel and even settle down as well as study in Western countries. Kenya is a diamond in the rough, which needs careful and tactical polishing to be able to shine. Oh and it can shine bright! It brought home the point that graduation may not just be about you, the individual, planning and pursuing your dreams. It is also about what you can give back to the community which has raised you, supported you and helped you reach this level of excellence. dunya_uzerinde_Kenya_nerede I want to see Kenyan students help Kenya and Africa at large, graduate with honors. I’m feeling cheesy – can you tell?!

My Take

Reflections of a newbie 21 year old

  1. Not every article on self-help, guidance, relationships, beauty and cows drinking from tea cups applies to you.
  2. Your parents? They are awesome and right about most things. Their love and advice is unselfish and pure. Take it and appreciate it.
  3. That zit? You don’t need to cake it with make up. Leave it be and it will heal in a few days. Poke, pinch and pop it and the mark will stay for months or even years.
  4. Putting pen to paper is oddly satisfying. I should know, I am doing it right now! Give the laptop a break every once in a while.
  5. Cooking is not as hard as you may think! You cannot live off of 2 minute noodles (some of which have too much MFG) for life. I can make a mean sandwich, a semi-burnt batch of pancakes and a killer pasta. Yes, I’m still learning this one.
  6. What high school nemesis who you wanted to bump into at the airport while boarding your private jet in 2050? You will not even remember his/her name. Besides, fuel is precious! You would not want to waste it on a private jet ride.
  7. There is nothing like a perfect man in the general sense. There is a perfect man for you. Find one who motivates you to climb higher and cleans up the cuts and bruises you get while falling down once in a while. Oh yes, stop looking so hard!
  8. Your family is precious. They will love you and celebrate you like no other. They are golden.
  9. It’s never too late to adopt a healthier lifestyle. Ever so often you may fall into the junk food pothole but you can always climb out and continue trying.
  10. It’s never too early to start chasing your dreams. Send out that CV, talk to that person, search for it on Google. (Make a CV!)
  11. People die. So do pets.
  12. Keep learning. As my inspiration, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie said: “Always just try, because you never know.”




Poetry · What's up world?

World Environment Day

Today is the 5th of June 2015 and on this day over 100 countries across the globe celebrate World Environment Day.


As she lies there crouched upon a flaming desert,

No end doth her eyes assert.

A battered soul and a crumpled heart for company;

A tormented being and a shattered life for comradry.

Her eyes speak a thousand words,

Pouring forth eons of reserve.

Pain encompasses her at every turn,

Everyone screaming for her to burn.

The soft silk of the Earth – upturned.

The soothing shimmer of the ocean – burned.

The crisp current of the air – tainted.

The ferocious fire of humanity – depleted.

Can you hear her lamenting?

Mother Nature is grieving.

Grieving for her Earth, grieving for her children.

Grieving because of their birth, grieving because of their insolence.

By Maalika Kazia