Yester years

Back in the day when all I had to write on was a pencil and a piece of paper. When my imagination was limited by a title. Happy days, going through the Kenyan 8-4-4 system. When English teachers were my role models looking up to them wondering if I would ever have the capacity to understand ‘The Language’.
To those that loved, maybe adored me and to those that hated my eloquence. To those that gave constructive criticism on my compositions as well as encouraging marks and to those that utterly refused to recognize the young budding talent. I appreciate the roles they each played in my life. For like with any piece of art, its beauty is not obvious to all, it takes a like minded eye and mind to discern.
Often scared by their professional talk of adjectives and prepositions, an English teacher’s jargon I guess. Their lessons, though hard to understand at the time were intriguing. They had this complexity in them and from that, it derived its beauty.
Stories of Jane and John, climbing trees stealing mangoes. How could one man piece words together and create such beautiful yet simple art. The words never ceased to amaze me, I was the kind of person that would deliberately go to the upper classes and get their English textbooks, my main purpose been to read all the stories, who was I to wait a whole year? My young mind just could not be denied the pleasures that come with literary art.
Looking back, I’ve had a treasure chest of adventures sitting behind my wooden desk than most soldiers would have in two life times.
Words have the power to transport you into worlds unknown, lose you there until you find your way back. Through words, we have built magical cities, ideal worlds, super heroes and told the lives of mere humans immortalizing them. Legends have been born, heroes humbled and we have words to thank for this.
Now at a time where I can comfortably sit in bed and type away, I look back and reminisce back to where it all started. I’d like to imagine that unlike every baby who utters their first words ‘mama’ much to the awe of everyone I did mine in an artistic way. In such a way that not only awed people but in a way that flickered the light of greatness that is buried somewhere deep inside me. A Light yet to shine.
Here’s to the journey.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: