Tukutendereza Yesu

State House Road smells fresh, like the air has been scrubbed clean. The rain came down hard, soaking everything in sight, and now I’m walking past YMCA Central, taking it all in. Two holes sit dangerously by the roadside, barely covered with small tree branches – useless at stopping anything from falling in.

It’s still drizzling, but the world feels different. The water in the trenches flows peacefully, no trash clogging it up. The road is strangely clean, almost surreal, but the traffic toward University Way is as crazy as ever. Amid the noise, I can hear people singing. The voices are gentle, calming, carrying the unmistakable melody of an SDA hymn. “Blessed Assurance, Jesus is Mine” floats around me, a song I know will stay in my head long after it fades-just like “Tukutendereza Yesu” always does.

The drizzle is cool against my skin, I can feel gentle drops of water kissing it. It’s almost refreshing, but I’m freezing. I thought I was smart leaving my jacket at home, it would have ruined my look, but now I’m regretting it. Style is one thing, warmth is another. Today, “freeze and shine” is a reality. Style will kill me !

When I get to the bus stop, what we call Stage here in Kenya, I’m lucky enough to find a matatu right away. I climb in and grab a seat at the back, but there’s a random remote sitting there. For a second, I wonder if that’s why the seat was empty. Maybe it belongs to the woman next to me? Turns out, it’s the matatu’s remote. I pick it up, planning to hand it to the makanga when he comes for the fare. 

Finally, I’m warm again, but I’m so tired. My mind feels heavy, and I just want to get home. Looking out the window, I remember it’s Christmas season. But, something feels off. The streets are still crowded, kwani watu hawajaenda ushago hii Christmas!  The shops aren’t decorated like they usually are for Christmas, nothing like the usual festive look we’re used to – no green, no gold, no red. The waiters, shop and supermarket attendants aren’t wearing those red and white Santa hats. Has Christmas lost its magic, or is it just me?

We reach my stage (yes, that’s the bus stop again), and I step out. The drizzle hasn’t let up, and it’s still cold. I pull my scarf tighter and rush home, I just want to escape this cold. 

That’s all for now. Stay warm out there!

Wait a minute, “makanga” is tout. As I warm up at home, I’m going to play “Tukutendereza Yesu!” It always reminds me of my dad, and I love it just as much as I love my dad.

Adios !

@okelododdychitchats

Golden Hue

My skin drips cocoa butter, 
rich and unparalleled, 
like the earth holding stories of rain and sun, 
like a promise whispered by the night. 
It’s dark and beautiful, 
mysterious as a velvet sky laced with stars, 
It tells a story of history. 

It doesn’t glare or dull,
it balances like a seashell 
cupped by moonlight, 
a perfection gleaming in the sun, 
catching light like a secret revealed. 
This is my skin, 
a story of generations, 
a mark of resilience passed down with pride. 

Its scent is Yara cologne, 
layered and lingering, 
a melody made tangible, 
a fragrance infused with culture, 
with memory, with home. 
Every breath of it recalls 
the places, the hands, the voices 
that shaped me. 

Above it rests a crown, 
soft coils and curls that stretch toward the sky. 
Hair that defies gravity yet welcomes touch, 
a crown sculpted by no one but me, 
alive in its strength, its freedom, 
a hymn of self-love in every strand. 

This essence of me,
is seen and felt
it’s carried, 
it’s lived. 
Every inch speaks 
in a language only I can translate, 
a declaration of identity, 
a love letter to the self. 

So let my skin drip cocoa butter, 
let it shine unapologetically. 
Let it sing of power and joy, 
of beauty that doesn’t ask for permission. 
This darkness isn’t a void, it’s fullness, 
it’s richness, it’s light wrapped in shadow. 

Let it carry the rhythm of culture, 
the heartbeat of diversity. 
In its depth is strength, 
in its texture, truth. 
It doesn’t hide, 
it never will. 
My skin drips cocoa butter, 
and in it lies the whole world.

@okelododdychitchats

Bad Man Bache

“Larry Madowo fascinates me! Someday, I’ll be like him-maybe even better! I adore him, I love watching him, let’s go watch The Trend.” These were Steve’s words. Back then, Larry was still just a journalist working for Nation Television (NTV) and hadn’t yet risen to the heights of his career. Steve admired him deeply and loved how he did his journalism. The first time I watched “The Trend” by Larry Madowo was because of Steve. I loved it, except for the time slot-10:00 PM on a Friday! Despite that, it became a weekly routine. Steve influenced a lot in my life, he rekindled my love for football, got me into PlayStation, and would even walk me through the ladies’ hostel just to do nothing! (This is unnecessary information for sure) Steve is a good man, he’s going to heaven for sure.”

Steve, drop that! Let’s call him Bache. Bache is now a three-time award-winning journalist. He began his journey right after campus in 2021, starting with the BetKing Premier League (The Kenyan Premier League (KPL) was rebranded as the BetKing Premier League due to a sponsorship deal with BetKing, a sports betting company), then moving to Mozzart, and now he’s at Sportpesa making history. He loves sports. He has become my favorite journalist, so natural and creative! He writes and hosts the “Match-Xperience” segments. What I’ve learned from his journey is that it’s all about passion, sticking to the plan, and being focused. It’s less about being a jack of all trades and a master of none! Bache is amazing. I love his minimalist nature, how he goes about things, how carefree he is, and his sense of humour. Honestly, I love how he manages to do it all, from work to managing his finances-he’s quick at thinking and solving problems. The only thing he might struggle with, though not badly, is style and fashion. He’s a bit basic in that department. And oh, I almost forgot, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Or Bache, do you have one now? If you do, I’ll gladly accept her, just make sure she doesn’t drop the name Bache! And to any ladies reading this, Steve is a good man!

Bache was the first one to attend class, it wasn’t his problem! He was just doing the right thing by showing up, kwani nini ilitupeleka shule ? But for the Logic and Critical Thinking lecturer, Ochieng Jaffas (I hope I’m spelling that right), having only one student for the first class was a big deal, infact a sacrilege. His comments afterward really set the tone and filled us with dread. We were first-years, after all, we had to fear! Jaffas was a Cold-hearted atheist who didn’t believe in God or Thomas Aquinas’ theories on God’s existence, despite having once wanted to become a priest. His way of teaching tickled the funny bone. But I’m getting off-topic. Jaffas instilled fear in us, making us believe we would all fail-except Bache, who attended class. That fear changed a lot of people’s views on higher education. Eventually, Bache joined us in our antics, and despite being jokers, we all passed our exams. We mastered the content in class and watched UEFA Champions League matches during the exam period. You could say we were geniuses!

Oh, and there’s something else, Bache is actually my cousin. I didn’t even know until a coincidental, and somewhat unfortunate moment. It’s one of those stories I’ll tell someday, but for now, let’s just say it’s a part of what makes our bond special. Life has a funny way of connecting the dots, doesn’t it?

I could say a lot more about Bache, but I’ll stop here for now. We’ll continue this conversation once I master the art of speaking confidently in front of a crowd!

@okelododdychitchats

To Dream, We Must Leave

We stand in the land of our birth,
Where the soil is rich,
Yet dreams suffocate beneath heavy skies,
And hopes lie buried where they mourn. 

Here, we are born with hands wide open,
Grasping air, reaching for a future yet to be revealed.
But the streets tell us stories of hunger, 
Of shackled lives and promises unfulfilled.

We grow, we study, we strive in vain, 
Taught to believe that success is near, 
Yet the doorways close, and the silence whispers, 
“You have no room to dream here.” 

So we turn our eyes toward the seas,
To lands where the stars seem to shine. 
We leave in desperation, hearts heavy with hope, 
Chasing a life that might finally be mine. 

But in the hands of strangers, we are trapped, 
Told lies of riches, and work that promised success, 
Only to find chains where freedom was denied, 
And shadows where truth reveals. 

Our sisters sold into prostitution, our brothers enslaved,
In distant lands where our names are lost, 
The price of our dreams is paid in pain, 
And no one speaks of the cost. 

Oh, Africa, land of forgotten wealth, 
Your soil rich, your people poor, 
Why do you allow your children to lose their way?
Why must we leave to dream once more? 

If only self-interest could fade, 
If justice could rise from the dirt, 
Perhaps then we’d stand unshackled, 
And know what it is to dream without hurt. 

But until then, we flee, we fight, 
Crossing borders, losing sight,  
Of who we are, of where we’re from, 
For in our lands, we cannot dream as one.

Why We Must Reclaim Our Right to Dream at Home

Dreaming is a universal right, it is for everyone, not just a select few. Dreaming allows us to look ahead to better futures, pursue opportunities, and shape our lives. Yet, for many Africans, dreaming feels like a distant privilege. Whether educated or not, skilled or unskilled, the struggle for a better life remains an unstoppable force. For most, the only option to escape this harsh reality is leaving home in search of greener pastures abroad, whether legally or illegally.

But these journeys are often treacherous. Promises of good jobs and better lives abroad lead many into the traps of human trafficking and exploitation, Sad! The stories are painfully familiar, young men and women, driven by desperation, leave their homes only to find themselves trapped in modern-day slavery. Some are forced into labour without pay, others into prostitution. They lose not only their freedom but also their identities, their dignity!  Having been deceived into believing that life outside Africa holds the answers they seek.

The tragedy is that these journeys take their origin from a single painful truth, many African countries don’t allow their citizens the freedom to dream at home. In a continent so rich in natural resources, oil, diamonds, gold, copper, and more. This reality is hard to reconcile. But the wealth of Africa is often mismanaged or hoarded by a select few, leaving the majority to struggle. Corruption, poor governance, and self-interest have prevented this wealth from translating into opportunities for ordinary people. Instead of developing industries that can employ millions, or investing in systems that allow citizens to thrive, resources are drained to feed the desires of a few. And so, we are forced to seek out dreams elsewhere, in lands that promise more but often deliver less.

Why must we leave to dream? Why can’t we fulfil our ambitions at home? The answer lies in the conditions that force so many to flee. Opportunities are scarce, infrastructure is weak, and education systems, while improving, often fall short in equipping young people with the skills they need to compete in a global economy, take a look at what the 8.4.4 education system in Kenya achieved and compare it to what the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC) is doing now. Both systems have well-designed structures, but due to poor implementation, they will for certain fail to equip students with the skills needed for real-life success. Those who do succeed in gaining education or skills often find there are no jobs to match their qualifications. And while entrepreneurship is an option for some, it is often hampered by a lack of access to capital, poor infrastructure, and overly complicated regulations.

These challenges create a vicious cycle where leaving becomes the only viable option. But leaving doesn’t always lead to the freedom or success that many envision. Human trafficking has become one of the most dangerous industries preying on vulnerable Africans. Unscrupulous agents lure people with promises of high-paying jobs abroad, only to subject them to brutal conditions once they arrive. Men, women, and children are often forced into hard labour or sold into sexual exploitation, trapped far from home and without the means to escape. They either do it, or they pay for it with their lives! These stories project an image of a wider problem, a continent whose potential is stifled, whose children are forced to seek safety, success, and dignity far away.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. Africa can become a place where dreams are born and fulfilled. It begins with us demanding better governance and believing in our potential. For too long, corruption and manipulation has drained the lifeblood of African countries, siphoning off billions that could be used to create jobs, build schools, improve healthcare, and support industries that generate wealth for the people. Good governance where leaders are accountable and resources are managed responsibly can create environments where opportunities flourish. With transparent systems in place, we can begin to build the infrastructure that allows businesses to grow and employ people, reducing the need for migration in search of work.

Education is another crucial piece of the puzzle. For Africa to truly grow and develop, we must invest in quality, accessible education. Young people need not only academic skills but also practical, vocational training that allows them to build sustainable livelihoods. Entrepreneurship, too, should be nurtured. Africa is brimming with untapped talent and creativity. With better access to finance, mentorship, and infrastructure, local businesses can thrive, creating jobs and lifting communities out of poverty.

We also need to protect those who seek opportunities abroad. Migration should be a choice, not a necessity. African governments must work with international organizations to create safer, legal pathways for those who wish to work in other countries. Stronger labour protections and better enforcement of anti-trafficking laws can prevent many from falling into the traps of exploitation. But most importantly, we need to build systems that make staying home a viable option so that Africans no longer feel the need to leave in order to live their dreams.

Africa’s wealth should be used for the benefit of its people. For too long, multinational corporations have extracted resources from the continent without giving back to local communities. If African governments prioritize local ownership and control of resources, they can reinvest profits into vital sectors like infrastructure, education, and healthcare. This, in turn, creates a foundation for long-term development. When managed responsibly, Africa’s natural wealth can lift millions out of poverty, turning our vast resources into a force for good.

We also need to empower communities through civic education. People need to understand their rights and hold leaders accountable. An informed and active citizenry can demand better services, transparency, and the creation of real opportunities for all. Civic engagement helps ensure that governments prioritize the needs of their people over their own self-interests.

The story of Africa is not one of despair. It is one of potential of a continent that has everything it needs to make significant progress, but hasn’t yet realized its full potential. By tackling the root causes of migration, human trafficking, and exploitation, we can create a future where Africans can dream and build fulfilling lives at home. This is not just a possibility, it is a matter of urgency.

We must reclaim our right to dream, and we must do so on African soil. Only then will we see a future where migration is no longer a necessity but a choice. Only then will we stop the tragic stories of exploitation that have plagued our communities for far too long. Africa is rich, not just in minerals, but in the brilliance of its people. It is time for that brilliance to shine here, where it belongs. To do that, we must invest in our people, build our institutions, and ensure that every African has the chance to dream, right at home.

@okelododdychitchats