Saturday, 10 March 2018

Language is Deeply Political

On #IWD I edited an info-graph that for me often reflects the subjugation of women's contribution in society because we angle it through a male lens for social ratification.... And so because someone ( a man) asked (twice) 'what was the harm' of the unedited version I toyed with the idea of saying google is your friend mate and moving on but then decided to repost the graphic and a small blurb...please indulge me....

“....Language is deeply political. A lot of what you are “not getting” is also from a place where there are no perceptible “ill intentions” in the unedited version of this info-graph.....but that is the genius-ness of sexism and ageism in language and in its ability to be pervasive, trivialising and undermining in its delivery. “Language is a great carrier of stereotyping and great place to assert socially sanction power of what is a ‘normalised standard’ of genius-ness and this is what makes this post extremely condescending.

Ageism or more accurately adultism is a socially sanctioned put down which aims to minimise younger people and their work on what we feel is a an achievement “at your age.” Judging a woman’s professional achievement by referencing and using the mark of validation or standards set based on a white man’s “endorsement” or an #IvyLeague white male name drop is a serious put down of women in science academia etc. And your description of Hawkins and Einstein illustrates this very clearly as it strongly suggests the immense ‘authority’ we bestow on senior white male academics. With achievements from the likes of Sabrina its about time to re-evaluate how we determine whose work is of merit. I welcome folks to read up and learn more about the “Matilda Effect” and reflect on how referencing these men takes away from her achievements...'

Thursday, 8 March 2018

The Right to Live and Die by my Mistakes and Choices.

Its International Women’s Day today, lets talk and touch base...

There is something to be said when one decides to move away from all social order norms and find their own path in life. Somehow, even within ‘progressive’ social spaces we tend to want a certain kind of uniformity and oneness… Often we impose a varied spectrum of rewards or sanctions to compel each other to conform to what is deemed ‘acceptable’ or ‘appropriate’…I have to say I have a deep respect for those who not only do not conform, but who also live by the same principles of not imposing their choices overbearingly on others – its effing hard to do this but nothing can be more sexier…living by the same standards to expect from others can transform this world - its pretty revolutionary... Think about it!

 I want to be the one on this International Women’s Day to say that women need the space, room and opportunities to find deep inner understanding and self discovery. I say this explicitly because women’s lives are often conflated with the daily affairs of their households and communities slowly erasing their individuality, needs, priorities and desires. I myself took this path over 21 years ago when I questioned everything and felt that in order to be most truthful to myself I needed to step out of societal shadows and also away from who were most closest to me. It was an excruciating journey to extricate myself, my options and my choices out of hands of my beloved who underwrote my every day living burdens. Thanks to my deep need to practice self autonomy I found this a necessary move to step away from the cushions that come with conforming to societal norms of what was expected of me as a girl or woman.  I was and still am unapologetic about stepping away from oppressive societal norms that have worked on silencing, shaming and subjugating me or my body, my choices, my sexuality and triviliasing my contributions based on my appearance age and gender etc. I will live and die by my right to make my mistakes and my choices. What can I say, **shrugs**….Bite me.

This meant that from the time I was 18 years old, I maintained my hair expenses because I did not need opinions around ‘what suited me’ or ‘what was appropriate.’  It also meant I was not unnecessarily baggaged with the need to keep hair in certain ways…if it cost too much, it went off. A very simple but affordable ethos. And yea, I did not worry too much about head shapes and foreheads because everyone’s good opinion of my hair did not get to pay for my hair bills. My point is, there is a big difference between my right to choose how to keep my hair and my bad fashion sense...these are mutually exclusive issues...also I really like blue braids...

It was a high price to pay to be stubborn and questioning of many things. It meant I left home when I felt that my choices were restricted to the validation of those older, more powerful and with more cash access than me. When their view did not sit right with me it paved the way for me to step away from home towards independence and distance myself from the comfort/discomfort of their support and underwriting of my life’s costs. But in practical terms this also meant I had a reality check and realised that any privileges I had needed to be self-sought. That very humbling lesson limited the choices I had and forced me to prioritise what was more important. In the end that exit from the comforts of home meant, constantly thinking about the baby on my back and trying to keep something (not always a roof!) over our heads and food in our bellies….I ended up living at a friend’s house which was effectively an illegal room allocation in a public school worker quarters. My rent contribution was $5 per month paid to a corrupt school administrator and water had to be fetched from a long way away. With an infant who was barely month old this was no mean feat on my back and my barely healed stitches. So I recall with sadness the very difficult time I had in this stint of times; where I peed into plastic tubs at night kept under the bed and poured it out in the morning…I will not lie, I missed indoor plumbing and often cried myself to sleep thinking of the small comforts of home but where I also felt overbearing oppression from my parents views about how my life should be.  At some point though, it was also exhilarating to simply make decisions for myself about my own life. This phase of my life contributed greatly to who I am today. I do not always take that easy path, and nobody owes any me favours.

Some of the invaluable lessons of choosing difficult paths had its benefits. I did not start a habit unless I was able to pay for it myself. It also meant I am not a good candidate of peer pressure… I am unlikely to want to ‘keep up appearances’ or live a life I cannot afford or sustain and be a slave of credit. My rule of thumb was, if I could not afford it then it was not in the stars.

I remember once finding a great bargain to buy  twin bamboo beds with orthopaedic mattresses in an expatriate sale. I took a SACCO loan and paid for them on check off for about a year. What a proud moment it was for me when I got to install these used beds for my son and my housekeeper at the time. It would take me another year sleeping on a foam mattress myself on the floor to be in a position to get myself a frame and mattress, but I felt positive it would happen…it was just a matter of time. Much more than anything I remember the days when all my housekeeper and I could afford each morning was a tepid cup of black tea to go down with left over greens to make a kale ‘sandwich.’ Milk was and still is quite a difficult thing to afford day to day in Nairobi. I managed however to get a very cool Maasai neighbour who came round with a jerrican of fresh milk every morning from his cows. With my stretched income, we could only afford to buy a cupful each day which went to making a cup of creamy steamy cocoa and the rest to soak the two weetabix chunks the young man ate every weekday before school. Milky tea would have to wait till I got to the office cafeteria... I also remember hours spent in second-hand markets like Toy and Gikomba in the days mitumba clothes’ costs made sense. My friend and I would literally comb through wads of clothes strewn in huge piles to get bargains. We avoided hung up clothes (camera) which were pricey. We had to wear gumboots and tuck in our pants to avoid the mud sometimes during the rainy season or wash up our legs and shoes after the market visit.

I remember having to split costs with my best friend at the time to buy filling spicy delicious Ethiopian food. We knew several good spots in Nairobi’s bustling Eastleigh…. Neither one of us could afford much and especially buying the complete meal but having it meant we could stay satisfied all day.

I remember Nairobi rain that started at 4.30pm just before we broke off work how it had and still has an impact on our ability to afford hiked matatu fare. It meant we were accustomed to walking long distances towards our homes in the evening or where the fare would at least make sense. In all these circumstances what helped me get by was the fact that I got to sleep in the spread I made…be it in a tiny room in Eastleigh…or on the floor in sprawling slums of Kware in Ongata Rongai. I got to be the queen of my abode. It was deathly glorious.

On this day to take stock on women’s issues I wish to laud any woman who has had to be born, live and will likely die in a deeply misogynistic and unrelenting world.  I wish for women to have days when you can step away from societal pressure to conform to narrow traditional gender norms that are oppressive to your rights and your choices. May you be your own person to make your own good and bad decisions because they are yours and only yours to make. May you not feel the need to burden your good self with the poor decisions of those close to you because you are not the saviour of the world. May you untangle the yoke of patriarchal values that do not just subjugate you, but also oppress those who challenge these norms that say some people are better or more acceptable than others. May you not be a conduit for these oppressive notions but instead be an agent for transformative social justice where all the intersections of our oppressions no matter where we are located are addressed from a place of fairness and equality… May your eyes open, may your horizons extend, may you be part of a movement that is deeply committed to seeing a day when the playing field is even. May you be free from facing the violence that so easily comes your way in form of kicks, punches, words, policing etc. May you free yourself from the oppressive shackles of thinking it is your sole burden and responsibility to take care of others at the expense of taking care of yourself…May you learn to appreciate and see the diversity in other women different from you as an enrichment to our society rather than a threat to your existence.

We need a new generation of young people who place more value in self-determination and part of that involves letting go of the toxic protectionist approaches we adopt today in our lived realities. Part of this is ensuring we centre our lives and those close to us towards the principles of their rights to step back, let go.... Let us all learn to spread the beds we lie on.

Tuesday, 6 March 2018

Those Random Sexy Musings About my Beautiful African Womxn on Cold Rainy Afternoons

I am just sitting here listening to the putter of the rain outside
I think of the distance between us and try to remember, you and your smile.
When I am with you I think of how you are part of many transitions
In my body, my mind and my heart....
All of them turn me on way bright
Everything of mine is putty in your arms…
Touching or connecting with you energizes me
You recharge every cell in my being.
You restore me
You heal me
You fill me
You make me whole
Your love, your memories your dreams
Envelop me so wonderfully and then;
I am filled with your you-ness.

Pinning you on the pillows as I kiss you is exhilarating...
I can feel you giving yourself to me
Opening, letting go....Its such a precious feeling
Holding all your vulnerability in my hands
I never ever want to let you or this go...You are my muse
My obsession
My everything-ness.

I love watching you, touching, bumping into you, rubbing off on you, talking to you, smelling you listening to you
I love patting, petting, flicking, kissing, nibbling, tasting, caressing every inch of you
I love you dressed...
Love how you smell...
Love how you look in things I love only because you are in them....
But ooooh how I looove undressing you too
I love your body and how it moulds into clothes
With those hidden promises of my desired longing
Clothes and accessories were simply made for you
The world is so much better with your lovely-ness.

But by gods I love you undressed too!
Love the feel of your naked body...warm next to me
I love peeling all the clothes off
One by one…
My fingers love running all over you
All the soft, beautiful brown folds and curves remind me that;
You are all regal filled with goddess-ness.

I love these movements you make when I touch you
And how to try to contain how it makes you feel
I need, want and love you
And this is how I always look at you with love filled eyes
You are that most precious of gifts of mine.
Not why why I am deserving of you.
So after all my adoration of your awesome self
I want to sprinkle kisses
And ask you if you like this....and this...
I want to whisper words and promises so our shared ancestors can hear
About how you move me to my inner most core
I want to feel your body responding to my touch....
I want to see how we magically connect
Because when we touch we are one
We cycle and weave into each other’s energy
I, kissing you and you inside me in an unending circle
We are one.
We connect with love....
Physically, mentally and spiritually
I simply love our us-ness.

Saturday, 24 February 2018

I can only offer these Hands of Mine

I am having a lazy evening. Just got off the shower and thinking of turning in soon after a long arduous day. It’s a dull silence because I am away for work; so none of those warm familiar sounds and motions of you in the house with me.

I look out at the hotel room window staring blankly at the dim light at dusk.  Wrapped in my light kikoy, I enjoy twirling my fingers on the partly drawn lacey cream curtains. I should be conscious of the office building next door and prying eyes that may see me but I do not care. It is exhausting constantly worrying about being decent and respectable for neighbours when that is the last thing on my mind right now.

Come to think of it, I feel there should be a right to be and feel indecent. Sigh. You would have laughed at that. I smile and remind myself to share that sorry attempt of humor with you when I return.

As I loose the kikoy and enter the crisp sheets and duvet and imagine that it is our bed at home. I know I love sleep on your side bed and wrap my hands around your pillow burying my face to inhale the scent of you. Gosh I miss your warmth, caress and those kisses of yours! I love how you entwine your long lithe amazingly sexy legs around me and spooning me into a deep warmth embrace.

I miss your kisses on my back and neck that either send me to dreamland or awake the deep passion you stirs in me.

As I roll naked around the sheets I spread my legs wildly and imagine my reunion later this week with you.

The thought of it warms me up and I feel the pulsating and unmistakable pulsing between my legs as my hands find my way between my legs. I feel the warm moist trickling out of me cuing my fingers to play…I so long to touch myself but I hold back aching for your unmistakable strokes when I spread open for you. I cross my legs as though to close my mind and (im)patiently count the hours until we unite….

So I take a moment instead to pick a topic to dream and carry me through the night.

I try to think of a gift to give you that will be as unforgettable as your smile. The sun, the stars, the moon? Maybe…but there is only one thing I can offer you wholeheartedly when I see you next, my hands.

My hands.

My hands that  will urgently take off each and every piece of clothing dropping them in a heap on the floor as soon as we are in closed doors.

My hands that guide you on our bed helping you lie on your back….my hands that pours my oil mix into my palms and rubs off your tired and weary muscles with those massages you have gotten to love over time.

My hands that feel your bare skin leaving a trail of shivers, moans, goosepbumps…

My hands that never falter as I move from your feet, your calves up to your back and the nape of your neck until I reach out for a kiss. I love your lips, they are so soft...I nibble your lower lip and smile inwardly remembering that pouty look you give me when you want my attention. Each time you give me that look at blink your eyes I melt…that’s the look that conquered my heart.

My hands never leaves your curves as I rub, knead, trail with my fingers…your skin was made for touch, your lips for kisses, your tongue…teases the last of my willpower. I rub my groin against your lush softness and a sharp sensation of pleasure washes through me.

I look up and gasp and rub into and against you again bringing up my knee between your legs….I rub this way and that feeling you thrust up to meet me in a rhythmic love making dance.

My hands that love roaming around your body feeling that sultry chocolate skin that I am so accustomed to adoring. I want to worship every inch of you with promises, whispers, licks, sucks, kisses…I enjoy watching you writhing under the spell of my hands working their way to touching each and every inch of you…

 It is my hands that pull you to me, staring at your eyes mesmerised by that look you give me when I know you want me.  We hold each other’s gaze for a second as I weave slowly and plant my mouth in between your legs.

My hands love to caress your thighs as I push your thighs open wider lightly planting wet kisses around your hot wetness. I love watching you my queen whimpering, looking and aching for my touch.

My hands plant each thigh and leg on each side of my shoulder and I move my whole face into you….I flick, kiss, rub, taste, nudge, suck against you.

I love how face fucking you always takes you by surprise.

You arch your back crying out, “Ooooh yes….”

I am not in a hurry. I push my face further into your pussy folds my hands now cupping your amazing ass taking pauses to flick against you tasting you. I love how you taste my love. I love weaving my way with my tongue with varying amounts of pressure…I love circling and circling… this way and that….like finding precious treasure….I love when you press against me and garble your words in indecipherable mumblings…I love watching and listening to you unravelling and loosing sense of control. I love gentle nibbles and laying my tongue flat against your clit and letting you press into it…I love trailing my tongue nodding my head up and down in long strokes just the way you like it….I love when your hands grab my head to push into me and show me wantonly how you want me to love you….

I love to eat you out my love...I could live between your legs, I could die here too….

Your thrusts now match my tongue flicks and fucks…I can see you lift partly off and grabbing onto the sheets digging your fingers deep. Rhythmic movements take over for ages as you begin to lock your legs to keep my face inside your thighs. I love the sensation of the choke lock as I get that heady sensation before passing out in between your legs. As you tremble and pulsate I recognise those familiar waves of pleasure travelling the course of your body. I take the opportunity to inhale deeply and brace for it….and so it begins with these shuddering endless waves, creamy squirts and ecstatic spasm coursing through you. I greedily drink in all of you, the more you give, the more I want.

Again, these hands of mine hold you…my eyes watch as you grind and release those juices for a blissful eternity until you sink back in exhaustion and I collapse next to you.

My hands reach out to hold you close as we catch our breath. I spoon into you aligning myself against your arched back with my arm around your waist. I love the deep sleep we fall into as blissfully think of how we fit so perfectly into each other.

My last thought as I fall into merciful sleep is just how good you taste. I want you again, and again and again and again ….