L.J's red jumper chronicles.

When you ask my father if he has daughters, he’ll simply say he has children. To him, we were never “just his daughters" in the way people usually mean it, we were just his children. And in his house, that distinction mattered. It meant there was no room for the “but I’m a girl” card. Not once. Not ever. We grew up knowing that roles were not divided by gender. If something needed to be done, you did it. Simple. We climbed roofs to fix the TV aerial so he could watch football. We helped offload the car, lifting and carrying things that felt far too heavy at the time, figuring it out together while he stood aside, watching, not out of neglect, but out of quiet expectation. And then there were the moments that felt like abandonment but were actually lessons in disguise. He would drop you at a doctor’s office or a bank, give you clear instructions, and leave. Just like that. No hand holding. No waiting. You could stand there, overwhelmed, even fight back tears, but he wouldn’t come ...

It is Saturday evening and I have a feeling that I recognize all too well. It comes suddenly even after I have had a lovely time earlier in the day, I call him Mr. Mood. I am writing this article while seated beside Mr.Mood so as to easily describe him because once he is gone, all I am left with is a sigh of relief to not think of him. Writing this post with Mr. Mood is not easy, he keeps pulling me and I keep trying to push myself away from him, and when we reach a stalemate, we tango till one gets tired.  Mr.Mood sometimes likes to make me feel sick giving me a headache, forces me to crawl in my bed and not to leave unless answering nature calls, to lose my appetite, or to be nonchalant when forced to interact with people. And when our fight for control begins, he holds power over me when he causes me to be stuck in a never ending negative thought process pattern: ‘I HATE MYSELF! PEOPLE DON’T LIKE ME! I CAN’T DO THIS! GIVING UP SEEMS EASY!’ But then I take the power back when I m...

Breaking up is the easy part Just ending it and wishing the other person the best… Sounds easy right? Or say you are better off without me… Easy right? Yes, l do say yes!   So what is the hardest part? The gear-shift drift This is just after the break-up For a few weeks or months you loath the breakup and delete all signs of the person in your life Next, you miss the person and search for a few photos of the person with you in a group photo I only leave group photos  Even for a split second, you think of checking in on them on social media   The stop-over drift  You look back into the relationship… The good…the bad…the toxic And justify breaking up, and now you no longer miss the person  You love and enjoy meeting other people  And maybe even reach out to the one that got away   The 360-degree drift This is the curveball Your ex reaches out saying they miss you You now have a decision to make, to turn b...

  F**k...sht...f*k!!! Photo by Camila Quintero Franco on Unsplash I said it all. Like what the f*k!!! I can’t stop cussing. Everything was going to sh*t...am literally living from another's’ pocket, a dollar a day...why the f*k did l quit my job!   F**k! I can’t sleep! I either study late in the night or worry myself out of sleep. Dark eyed circled monster walking....give way...or don’t..l won’t make it outside in daylight. The night is my day!   F**k! The sun hasn’t touched my face in weeks, as l only leave my room with the sunset to buy food. No one to see this dark eyed circle monster walking!   F**k! What am doing here! This sh*t is so fucking hard! I want to quit but l can’t. I promised myself never to quit again!   F**k! I do have a problem! Let me call my friend Jolly l talk it out! Plus l need sleep medication...this fking meditation ain’t helping. Them sport shoes are arriving tomorrow...so am f*king gonna start jogging with sunrise...

FORGET YOU NOT  To a friend, when they say friendship between a girl and boy can't work, we made it work!   When l think of how it all started, l reminiscence at the beginning:  'The first time l noticed that loud, noisy and quite chatty guy in my computer class. N ever knowing we will ever be friends  Fate or not we become closer and formed quite a close bond as friends  You just out of a relationship, while l feeling relationships are just a volcano waiting to  erupt;  I put you off when you confessed your feelings-ignoring you and avoiding you  There are times l did miss the long chats we used to have… or how a smile would be  plastered on my face when my phone beeped and it was you  But then l remember you need me in another way l cannot give to you. I hurt you so bad, but you still came back and told me you valued our friendship’   Day in day out we have always tried to rebuild our friendship… you holding the rop...

"Mama is it raining at home...how long has it been since it last rained there or is the rain too much over there?" This is a common question in the African setup especially when calling family in the village. In any language it will have to be part of the conversation and one can dare not end a conversation without finding out.  In one of my native languages l will ask , "Bendi dala koth chwe? (is it raining at home)" to my grandmother Nyakoyugi. Nyakoyugi will also do the same when talking to her brother in Suna to ask, "Jasuna, bendi...." It goes without saying that rain is significant in the African culture as its adequate presence shows livestock are fed, food for household grows in the farm well, homes are constructed, meals can be cooked, people can bath after a hard day in the farm..etc So next time you call home, whether village or town don't forget to ask "Is it raining at home?"

Blooming ‘I am not kicking you out of something you are not and have never been…’ These words were my kryptonite… I knew it may come to this some day after giving myself a second chance to love. I am a late bloomer when it comes to love and other romantic stuff but l learn...I told him this when we began dating and he said he is ‘Patient.’ Lets just say we broke up twice with him feeling he is the only one in love and am ‘emotionally numb ‘ for lack of a better word. For the first time i felt like my heart was ripped out and l knew we couldn’t come back from this, so i ended it. He was the first guy l fell in love with but he wasn’t patient and open enough to see that but l loved the pain - a reminder of l once loved.