How to …. Be Two Hours Late To Work

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It’s been a warped day. For
one, I’m not bored to tears on a Monday morning. Weird!! Aaaand… I was two hours late to court.  Two whole hours!!! And fifteen minutes if you want to be technical. Gasp, I know. How does that happen?? Well, here’s a complete guide to being late to work.

Step One
Get a job. Or just go to school. In this case, law school. Can’t be late for something you don’t have … except of course a period.  Anyway.. 

Step two
Pass just enough to finish second year( no pressure. As are overrated ), then attend clinicals (attachment to the court , as you may call it).

Step three
Get just enough official armour, including just one pair of shoes that go with everything. (Don’t look at me like that )( yes, I’m a girl. Mwanamke si multiple pairs of shoes! )

Step four
Have a cat with a fashion sense that immediately decides that your shoes stink and decides to show you just how much, by pissing on them.

Step five
Wash said cat-piss shoes. Allow them to dry overnight. Wake up the next day to find shoes dry but still strongly scented. Perfume said shoes heavily with your Mama’s special perfume.

Step six
Wake up at the time you’re supposed to be leaving the house. Leave an hour later, when you were supposed to be in court.  

Step seven
Have a father with a keen honker who picks up on the cat piss shoes and insists you need new shoes. Agree, begrudgingly but secretly excited!

Step nine
Go shopping at 9 am, an hour past the time your supposed to be in court

Step nine
Here’s the important bit(the whole process relies on this ): have a small shoe size. One that, for some discriminatory reason, Bata never seems to have a shoe for. Go to three different stores. Settle in the third, for any shoe that fits at all.

Step nine.
Get a tuktuk to court, nervous for the first time the whole morning since your always extra super early. Find that your magistrate isn’t even sitting!!

Step ten
Thank God!! Let your friends rib you for being late. Be ready to tell them the whole story about cat piss shoes. But they don’t ask. Get disappointed. Grab your phone instead and blog about it to people who have no choice but to read( love you guys). Smile and wait for comments. 

Ps if my supervisor is reading this, all accounts in this post are fictionalized and I should not be held liable if you think its referring to any existing person. Saaaay… me .

I’m a good girl, I promise!!! This is the only time! Okay, the last time.

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Turmoil

“Monday Blues,  

Tuesday mellows into Wednesday , proves

 to be the green of the meadows, then Thursday looms

to bring hope to the fellows for Friday soothes 

to the promise of tomorrow but Saturday rules ,

no more brow that is furrowed and in walks Sunday,

with it peace that can’t be borrowed but with it a dread that Tomorrow is Monday”

just something I thought up as I was in the shower

I am an emotional mess right now so anything I write should be considered to be ramblings.

More often than not, someone passes by the office with one sickness or the other, asking for some assistance in terms of cash. Quite heart-wrenching, I assure you.

To see a man who , at first sight doesn’t seem so old at first sight, shuffling through the door, barely able to carry his own weight as he battles against AIDS or as in today’s case, leprosy, is enough cause for me to stop. He speaks softly, having been humbled and brought down to his knees by life. Maybe in your case or mine, pride would never allow us to do anything of that nature. Be it in the simple borrowing of funds you can easily repay or that ka-ten bob because the rest of your cash is of larger denominations.

But  he has learnt that pride is a luxury he can never afford. All he knows is that, he is in no position to earn a living. He needs his medication. His wife is home taking care of a sick child, the other two kids in school, earning an education he can’t afford. In the evening, they eat what they can and go to bed wondering what kind of day tomorrow will be, thanking God for today, not believing that something went down their gullet, though their stomachs growl in protest. Everyday the battle to stay alive wages on.

I can curl myself in a plush couch and sob saying “Life is so unfair!” but what good will that do?

Call me naive, but I ensure that that person at least leaves the office with something in hand. They might be pretending,true. They might be plain lazy…but tell me this, can you look them straight in the eye, see the anguish that lies within them and say “I can not give you anything?”

If you can, I don’t know what planet you are from. In their eyes, I have seen a tale of rejection, pain, bitterness. Such that they don’t even expect anything good to happen to them. Let me be that something good that happens to them, that they may have reason to take one more step. That they may have hope that Someone is truly watching over them.

                                                                                                                       

somewhere on the road between high school and uni…

 

Tomorrow, I clock  a month at my first job tomorrow …*crickets* . I know right?! Okay, I know how the job situation in Kenya is grim and all and I probably am pretty lucky to even have one buuuuut …….I want to quit. ( already had this conversation with Daddy dearest and just incase you’re wondering, I have been BANNED from it) Apparently, once you go corporate, there ain’t no turning from it.So am stuck in an office until September when I am free to get a University education…

If you had asked me in high school how long I thought I would last in Mombasa, I would have said one month.Tops. ….to answer your questions 1. yes, I have lived in Mombasa pretty much my whole life  2. There is a zero to nil chance of my parents letting me move in with my sisters in nai ‘just because’ ##sigh##.. well, I have been here a record SIX MONTHS and am yet to go crazy *weird*. The last time I spent this much time home, I was 11, no joke. (I insisted on going to boarding school……FOR REAL!! My sisters went without a say and lets just say my stories were no longer the headline at the dinner table…I wasn’t happy about that and thus begun my campaign. I WON ;))

I have come to terms with the coastal weather…I forgive her. In Coast, it’s all about knowing when to go out and when not to ##as well as the coolest internet cafe##and I do mean it literally. Look for cafe that has a fully functioning air conditioning system….but in the event you do find yourself melting under the vicious sun, you will find a sympathizer…at least i did. Just the fact that someone on the other side of the fence noted my plight and cared to give a “pole kwa jua” literally amused me to the point that the sun seemed to ease up on the degrees.

I took this job to be able to decide whether or not law is something Iwant to pursue. I  can live with it. It is actually as a result of being plotless at  work that I started blogging. One month down the line and I have opted to take up law whole-heartedly(read ‘without my dad paying me’). The cases can be interesting (as long as it’s not a land issue, which most of them are) and the pay is not that bad. Apart from all the legal details I have also learnt              (a) The Perfect Poker-face . . . do you know hard it is to look like you know what you’re doing while in earnest , you have no clue whatsoever?! I didn’t!! Then of course there is the tincy-wincy  fact that I am rather young. Despite my age, I expect to be treated with as much respect as any other person who is older. That is obviously not always the case, especially with some two gentlemen who have grown into the habit of calling me MUM (grrrrrrrrr…i bite!..no i don’t).

(b) I abhor smokers, or rather, the smell of cigarette smoke on them . . .it makes me nauseous. Why do people smoke anyway?!Its gross, it makes your fingers and TEETH turn color and you always smell the same!!!!  P.S, the juicy fruit makes you even the more unbearable.

(c) When people call in and have such a thorough accent and I am positively sure I am being pranked because there is no absolutely noooo way that someone actually talks like that, it’s usually for real 😉

(d) Hustling at the lunch line happens everywhere. . . but  at least in school there was some semblance of order. So high schoolers, take heart! Even guys at the A.G’s office hustle for chakula…

I don’t know what I’ll be doing for the next few months cause now everything is sooo routine. Thank God I discovered a neat little charming bookshop near the offices. ###i love books###  tv is kind of losing its grip on me… (mum is loving it cause she gets to watch her football uninterrupted).

Something will come up……..i hope…..