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Quietus


I start from the middle because this is the beginning to the end.

I’m tired.

Tired that you see my face but miss the smile.

See my smile but miss the glint in my eye.

I.. I miss the glint in my eye.

Now to balance this meniscus like I tried to do at the grave.

 

I don’t think the writing is even helping.

Words upon words that are not worthy of licking dust off the feeling.

I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Here lies my truths.

 

 

Give me one last look to see me turn the corner.

Give me one last listen so you don’t miss me here.

Give me one last taste so you can tell I’m no longer bitter.

Give me one last touch before I turn cold.

Give me one last breath to show that my flaws were perfect.

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A Litmus for Love


Just Sham It

I breathe in the dust of your dead skin. My lungs turn into lanterns that hold your light.
I hold your emotions prisoner inside my ribcage.
I get tangled in your rebellious, beautiful strands of hair left on my bed. The smell of you lingers there and sends colourful, nostalgic electricity through the layers of my skin.
There are holes in my heart; wounds from wars of words fought from the trench at the edge of my bed that we never wanted to fall into.
We were to watch our dog grow old together.
But now we just fight because we speak different dialects of love.
Our relationship became a litmus for love.
And minds shouldn’t be hurt when hearts beat.
Granted, I took you for granted.

There’s an old tree in Nairobi that I want to show you and talk to you about because only you’d appreciate the language…

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The Millennial In the Workplace


Blanchard LeaderChat

Smiling Young Businesswoman With People In BackgroundI am a millennial—I can’t deny it. I was born in 1992, right in the middle of the millennial generation range. I grew up in a world where children were showered with praise and everyone was a winner on Sports Day. I’ve lived in the shadow of September 11th and repeated recessions. Oh, and I love Pokémon Go, hash tags, and taking a good selfie! If you ask the people around me, they’ll probably tell you I have some of the stereotypical attributes of a millennial: entitled; easily sidetracked by technology; and wanting a better balance between my work life, my family life, and my hobbies.

Pew Research even has a quiz called “How millennial are you?” that shows where you fit on the scale and how you compare with others in your generation. I’m not entirely sure how scientific this is, but I scored a whopping…

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Where will she go?


How great is Kenya after all? A chain is as strong as its weakest link… #SOTN2016

Kalunde's Scribbles

Fatuma Ibrahim before January 6, 2016 was a mother of four in Korof Harar, deep inside Wajir on the north eastern side of Kenya.

However, her husband changed this narrative on that sixth day of the year.

He stabbed her.

On her thigh.

On her leg.

On her chin.

On her right cheek and when he tried to pull out the 10-inch knife, but it was stuck.

image Ms Fatuma Ibrahim at Wajir Airport, shortly before her medical evacuation on January 7, 2016. Photo/Eunice Kilonzo

The rusty knife with a rugged handle went through her head on her right cheek and almost popped out a short distance from her left eye.

But it didn’t.

It stayed there from 5.30pm that Wednesday when he attacked her, was still there when she was taken to hospital at 2am.

Wajir Referral Hospital would not move it either otherwise, she would have “bled internally and…

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PICTORY V.2 #34 – FINAL MOVE


“Checkmate” he whispered, folding his cassock’s sleeves.

KIMANIWANDAKA

image

She was seated on the black pews. As he stealthily moved towards her he could hear her whispering to the rosary. Begging, requesting to the point of anger and now commanding then back to repenting.

She knew he was there.

Not Him, him.

The hairs at the back of her neck rose. She was now on her knees. She remembered the teaching by her Bishop. It was an odd time to remember.
She had grown up a human pawn, from the hands of one fallen knight to another. Then she’d met him and he’d treated her as a queen.

“Checkmate” he whispered, folding his cassock’s sleeves. His skinny hands circled her neck. He had finally rooked her out of her soul.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Edwin ‘the divine bandit’ Mukabi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

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Above And Beyond


Mark 12:38-13:13 New Living Translation (NLT)

38 Jesus also taught: “Beware of these teachers of religious law! For they like to parade around in flowing robes and receive respectful greetings as they walk in the marketplaces. 39 And how they love the seats of honor in the synagogues and the head table at banquets. 40 Yet they shamelessly cheat widows out of their property and then pretend to be pious by making long prayers in public. Because of this, they will be more severely punished.”

THE RIVER WALK

above and beyond

This is the ritual law of the Nazirites, who vow to bring these offerings to the Lord. (Numbers 6:21)

Read: Numbers 6:1-7:89, Mark 12:38-13:13, Psalm 49:1-20, Proverbs 10:27-28

Relate: One of the most famous, and some would say dumbest, people in the Bible is this tough guy named Samson. I’m not going to go into full detail of his life here, but if you are not familiar with him, go read the middle of the book of Judges. The entire book makes for some amazing reading, especially for junior high boys, and Samson’s story is certainly near the top. Among his many feats is the one time he picked up a donkey’s jawbone and clubbed to death a thousand well trained, fully armed Philistine soldiers. I always wonder what that last guy to face him must have been thinking. Seriously, gore and body parts are everywhere. You have watched this guy obliterate…

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