Be My Guest

Be my guest, come sit with me
Listen to the silent shadows play
As the sun sets and night begins to fall
Let me share my story with you
Don’t judge me too quickly
Look beyond the surface, see the real me

I may seem quiet, but my soul speaks loudly
In the echo of these silent shadows
I have been hurt, but I am not broken
I have faced challenges, but I am not defeated
I have scars, but they do not define me
I am more than the sum of my parts

I invite you to see the beauty in my imperfections
To find the grace in my flaws
To witness the strength in my vulnerability
And the resilience in my tears
I am a masterpiece in progress
A work of art still being painted

So be my guest, take a seat and stay awhile
Let me open up my heart to you
Let me share my hopes and fears
My joys and my sorrows
Let me be real with you
In this moment of pure honesty

I am not perfect, but I am trying
I am not flawless, but I am sincere
I am not without my faults, but I am genuine
I am only human after all
Travelling this wild journey called life

So don’t be quick to judge
Don’t dismiss me with a glance
Don’t assume you know my story
Until you have heard it from my lips
Until you have seen it in my eyes
Until you have felt it in your heart

Be my guest, and let us connect
Through the shared experience of being alive
Through the universal language of love
Through the power of empathy and compassion
Let us break down the walls that divide us
And build bridges of understanding

In this moment of vulnerability
In this space of openness and truth
Let us find common ground
Let us see each other as we truly are
Let us embrace our differences
And celebrate our humanity

So be my guest, dear friend
And let us embark on this journey together
Of healing and growth
Of connection and transformation
Let us be witnesses to each other’s stories
And find strength in our shared humanity

For in the end, we are all just travelers
On this vast and mysterious road
Searching for meaning and purpose
Seeking love and connection
So let us be kind to one another
And may our hearts be forever open

Be my guest, dear soul
And let us be companions
In this dance of life
In this symphony of existence
Let us walk hand in hand
And find solace in each other’s presence

For together, we are stronger
Together, we are whole
Together, we are infinite
So be my guest, my love
And let us journey together
Into the depths of our souls

Let us uncover the truths that lie within
Let us embrace the shadows
And dance in the light
For in each other, we find home
In each other, we find peace
In each other, we find ourselves

So be my guest, my dear
And let us be one
In this beautiful threads of life
For you are my guest
And I am yours
Together, we are forever.

@okelododdychitchats

Can I

In Kenya,  where diversity thrives
Where different tribes exist, each with their own vibes
Can I be Luo, without being branded with pride
Can I be seen for who I am, and not what others decide

Can I be a Luo man, without being called a cheat
Can I walk with my head held high, without deceit
Can I be Kisii, without anger being my label
Can I break free from stereotypes, without any trouble

Can I be Kikuyu, without being called a thief
Can I rise above the assumptions, with belief
Can she be a Kikuyu lady without being feared as a husband killer
Can she lead with integrity, with respect revered

Can I be Kamba, without being called a witch
Can I live my life freely, without any glitch
Can she be a Kamba woman, without being seen as promiscuous
Can she be respected for her virtues, not seen as frivolous

Can I be Luhya, without trading everything for food
Can I break free from stereotypes, for my own good
Can I wear my dreadlocks, without being judged as a thug
Can I express myself freely, without getting shrugged

Can she have a nose piercing, without being called a slut
Can she have a tattoo on her thigh, without needing a rebut
Can I drive a Subaru, without being labeled as a fuck boy
Can I enjoy my ride, without causing any dismay

Can I be a man, wear my beards, without being seen as a dog
Can I be a man, without living in a fog
Can I be a Gen Z, without being seen as spoiled
Can I break away from stereotypes, without being coiled

Can I live in Roysambu, without being scandalous
Can I be judged for who I am, without being hazardous
Can she live in Umoja, without being a single mother
Can she be respected for her choices, without any bother

Can I be just me, black, bold, and beautiful
Can I embrace my uniqueness, without feeling dutiful
Can we break free from stereotypes, and just be
Can we live in harmony, and set ourselves free

So let us rise above the misconceptions and lies
Let us stand strong, with unity as our ties
Let us embrace our differences, and celebrate diversity
For in the end, we are all one, in this world of adversity.

@okelododdychitchats

What An Evening !

Rain begins to fall, and the scene from the 18th floor of View Park Towers is pleasing to look at. The droplets of rainwater fall gently on the roofs of the cars in the parking lot. At this moment, I am speaking to Victor, he prefers to be called Oito. He is showing me an aesthetically pleasing seat on his phone. As I admire the seat and rethink the black hole in my bank account, Sandy calls. Sandy is my childhood friend, a lawyer working at a law firm located in Utalii House, which is just a block away from View Park. I told her I am around, and since she is a lawyer and lawyers rock suits, I am eager to make her one or a beautiful collection.

After the rain, I pick her up from the ground floor, and we head straight to Louise Carre’s humble offices on the 18th floor. Louise Carre is the company name, and yes, we tailor suits. We agree on the fabrics and styles, and as we wait for the rain to stop since it’s started again, we talk about our childhood and catch up on how easy or hard life has become. Victor is glued to his phone, probably working on a quotation. When he’s done, the rain reduces, and we get going.

We walk slowly towards Downtown, with water splashing gently on my cap. Victor has a big jacket on, seemingly unaffected by the rain, and Sandy is covering herself with an umbrella that looks newer than its age. She says she’s had it since she was in form one, over eight years ago. She’s a keeper, right? What brings us together is the water splashing on our shoes and how well we dodge the puddles. We all think it’s high time we get ourselves cars.

We reach Archives, a central landmark for people unfamiliar with Nairobi. There are always people waiting around, usually with confusion on their faces, trying to find something or someone. But this evening, we see a train long line of people waiting to board Super Metro to Thika, all standing in the rain. I look at them and think, “this can never be me!” We walk a few blocks and find another huge line of people waiting for a bus to Civil Servants, the posh name for Kariobangi South. This time, I critique out loud, saying I can’t wait that long for a bus or stand in the rain for one. Little did I know what awaited me.

Around Afya House, I bid Sandy and Victor goodbye. Sandy is picking something for her mum before heading home, and Victor is catching one of those noisy matatus, commonly called “manyanga,” to Ngong’. I walk straight to Afya Center, then take a right turn towards Utimo Sacco Bus Stop because I know with this type of rain, all Ummoiner or Salty Supporters buses are not coming to CBD. I find myself in a very long line, longer than the ones I critiqued. With no other option, I decide to make the line. Thirty minutes into the queue, not a single bus has arrived. The line hasn’t moved an inch; it’s just getting longer as more people come and complain about the lack of buses to Umoja.

I’m eavesdropping while minding my own business. At this time, there are a lot of thoughts in my head, like imagining a guy wearing a smaller shoe size than his girlfriend’s. These thoughts mix with the chaos around me: people pushing to pass, hawkers trying to catch customers, drunkards saying unwise things, and the rain offering us a free shower along the crowded Mfangano Street.

We wait, and it’s now two hours. We start talking to each other, looking with envy as Super Metro buses keep coming for passengers to Kitengela. We talk and notice people paying to hijack the line. As Godsent Gen-Zs, we intervene and fight for our rights to the next bus!

Long story short, I was at the bus stop at 1830 hrs, left town at 2139 hrs, and got home soaked in God-given water at 2240 hrs. I can’t believe it took more than four hours! That’s enough time for Victor to drive from Nairobi to Rongo. What an evening!

@okelododdychitchats

Bikram Yoga

I won’t name this story after the person it’s about, Laura Kabaara, just as the Joluo people name their children according to the season and time of their birth. I admit I’m not great at coming up with titles, but trust me, this will be different from the rest. I promise to do my best, my people.

We’re finally here. I’ve been pursuing Laura for two weeks, eager to get to know her and perhaps use my pen to brush the dust off my notebook and write about her. We’re seated in the office lounge, a tastefully decorated space behind the Little App Board room. The view is stunning; we can see the neatly parked cars, the scene resembling a beautifully crafted artwork.

Laura is the cheerful one, always radiating happiness. She has the knack for turning your mood from gloomy to jubilant in an instant; she’s simply good at it. She’s exceptionally intelligent and incredibly stylish. She effortlessly elevates braids to a level of elegance that surpasses even human hair. And before I forget, please don’t judge me; I’m just appreciating one of God’s creations, and I won’t dwell on it to avoid raising suspicion, even if there isn’t any. She possesses captivating eyes, accentuated by her natural eyelashes, and a slender face that’s simply flawless. I know my girlfriend might be furious when she reads this, but “Kufa dereva, kufa abiria” let me say it: Laura is beautiful.

She sips water from her unique water bottle. It’s not just any water bottle; it exudes class. Everything about Laura is exceptional. Her lip gloss looks expensive, her hand lotion is a rare find, and unlike most Kenyan girls, she’s unfamiliar with the “Wajesus Family,” Milly Wa Chebby, and the famous Terrence Creative. I think she’s a cool kid. She’s Luhya, but you wouldn’t know unless she tells you. Her English is not only well-spoken but also fluent. Laura is simply Laura.


There’s a quiet pause between us, where neither of us speaks or stirs. It’s as if we’re both lost in our own thoughts., I break the silence and inquire, “Who is Laura?” I’m curious to hear her describe herself, not in the rehearsed manner of a job interview, but in a more engaging, casual, and honest way. After a brief pause, during which she fidgets with her nails, searching for the right words, she begins to speak.

“I see myself as someone who possesses a keen sense of self-awareness,” she begins. “I would describe myself as lively, self-aware, and confident.” She goes on to explain that her journey towards self-awareness began during a period of meditation, where her spirituality took on new significance. There was a time when she was not religious, when she did not believe in God. However, certain events in her life led her to embrace spirituality in a different form. From 2016 to 2023, she believed in a higher power represented by the universe rather than a specific deity. She believed that the collective energy of humanity contributed to this higher power.

This journey, which I am tempted to inquire further about, led her to profound reflections and a newfound perspective on life. It required deep introspection, ultimately shaping her into the self-aware person she is today.


I mentioned this earlier, Laura is consistently cheerful and lively, spreading joy to those around her. Her happiness and bubbly nature seem to have no particular trigger; they’re simply a part of her, evident even early in the morning. I’m curious about what fuels her mood.

Honestly, Laura doesn’t fully understand what happens. When she returns home, she retreats to her room and her energy changes. She becomes quieter, and she doesn’t actively control this shift; it’s like a switch that flicks on and off. She only knows that she loves life and mostly maintains a positive attitude at work. Oh, I forgot to mention, she’s my colleague in the Corporate Sales Department. I was drawn to her because of her vast knowledge, sense of style, and love for books-things that resonate with me. Interestingly, her energy at work differs from elsewhere. She feels a sense of worthiness and believes her hard work has led her to this point, subconsciously triggering her brain to think positively. Laura’s liveliness is appreciated by everyone in the department; it rejuvenates and lightens the atmosphere. It’s just her vibe, you know?

Let’s talk about her style… At first, I thought she might have OCD because of how meticulous she is with her arrangements, especially at her desk. However, that’s just a passing thought. Laura’s style is truly distinctive and unique. It exudes a strong sense of fashion. Her style is inspired by her belief that art is a form of self-expression.

One notable aspect of her style is her stance against the objectification of her curvy body. She’s adamant that her fashion choices should not invite unwanted attention or reduce her to a mere object of desire. She prefers clothing that is both fashionable and comfortable. She seems to have mastered the art of dressing for her body type. In fact, in 2023, she even won the Best Dressed Employee award at Llittle. She strives to represent the ideal black woman in the corporate world through her clothing and hairstyle, she says…

Sales is undeniably one of the most challenging jobs out there, a form of rocket science in its own right. However, Laura excels at it. She not only performs well but also enjoys the challenge it presents. She finds it intellectually stimulating, pushing her to think creatively. While she may not immediately admit to loving sales, she believes it’s an essential aspect of every business, one that cannot be hated because it underpins every industry.

For Laura, sales keeps her on her toes, and its quantitative nature allows her to measure her contributions concretely. She acknowledges its importance, even if she doesn’t particularly like it. When we discuss sales, we also touch on passion, which she sees as both an art form and a means of self-expression, much like fashion.

She dreams of pursuing something in the fashion industry in the future. However, she worries that she might lose motivation if she doesn’t see instant results, as patience isn’t one of her strongest virtues. I encourage her to pursue her fashion-related aspirations and to trust the process, even if it requires a bit of patience.

When it comes to the desire for a family, Laura speaks from the heart. She longs for companionship and envisions having a family of her own. Despite her concerns about finding love again and occasionally falling into the trap of trying to change herself to fit someone else’s expectations, she remains steadfast in her desire to marry and start a family. Yet, she sometimes worries about becoming the proverbial “aunty wa madoo” to her nieces and nephews based on a few past experiences.

My phone rings, it’s my sister calling, I text her to call after 30 minutes. Meanwhile, we find ourselves grappling with questions of morality as members of Generation Z. Laura and I often discuss the state of our society and our shared belief in the importance of doing what is right, even when it seems that immorality is becoming normalized. Despite our youth, we are firm in our conviction that our actions have consequences, and we strive to act in a way that will make us proud in the future. We understand that the choices we make today will shape the legacy we leave behind, standing as a testament to our values.

Our conversation swiftly transitions from morality to cars. Laura has a soft spot for cars, particularly the Volkswagen Golf GTI. Interestingly, her first boyfriend owned this car and sparked her interest in automobiles. Her dream, however, is to one day own a Mercedes G-Wagon G63. I share her enthusiasm for this vehicle; just thinking about it keeps me up at night.

As the clock ticks toward 5 PM, we all start feeling the pull to head home. In our final moments together, Laura shares that she doesn’t have a single hobby per se; she enjoys a variety of activities, from reading to listening to music, depending on her mood. I nod in agreement, admitting that I, too, don’t have a specific hobby for the same reason—I love trying out different things.

It’s fascinating to learn that Laura and her best friend are planning to venture into activities typically associated with the affluent. They’re considering starting Bikram yoga. I had no clue what that was until she mentioned it! Honestly, I haven’t looked it up yet, but from what she’s described, it seems like one of those things that won’t appeal to everyone, much like rap music or rhumba. What’s Bikram Yoga Anyway ?

@okelododdychitchats