Posts in category: Education

“… I know people who graduated at 21 and didn’t get a job until they were 27. I know people who graduated late at 25 and they found work immediately. I know people who never went to university but found what they love at 18. I know people who found a job straight out of college making decent money but hate what they do. I know people who took gap years and found their purpose. I know people who were so sure about what they were going to do at 16 , they changed their mind at 26.

I know people who have children but are single and I know people who are married but had to wait 8 to 10 years to have children. I know people in relationships who love someone else. I know people who love each other but aren’t together . So my point is everything in life happens according to our time, our clock.

You may look at some of your friends and think that they are ahead of you. Maybe some of them you feel are behind, but everything happens at their own pace. They have their own time and clock, so do you. Be patient.

At age 25 ,Mark Cuban was a bartender in Dallas. It took till 32 for J.K. Rowling to be published for Harry Potter after being rejected by 12 publishers. Ortega launched Zara when he was 39. Jack Ma started Alibaba when he was 35. Morgan Freeman got his big break at 52. Steve Carell only got his break after 40 years old. Virgin was started by Richard Branson at 34.

Getting your degree after 25 is still an achievement. Not being married at 30, but still happy is beautiful. Starting a family after 35 is still possible and buying a house after 40 is still great. Don’t let anyone rush you with their timelines because as Einstein said, ” Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that is counted truly counts.  And this is the most important thing; I want you to be able to create a meaningful, purposeful fulfilling lives for yourselves and learn how to use that to make an impact and a difference in the lives of others. That will be true success.”

~Jay Shetty

Kenya’s top political show host, Hussein Mohamed has resigned from Citizen TV after a 10-year period of exemplary service.

Host

He will be remembered by his audience for his hard-hitting interviews and has hosted top leaders including; former Kenyan Prime Minister Hon Raila Odinga, President Uhuru Kenyatta, his Deputy William Ruto,  top politicians, among others.

He has had the rare opportunity to host international delegates like Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu on the Sunday Live show in 2016.

“I have decided to take a break after October In Sha Allah to concentrate on other matters. Loved the fans, the critics and everything in between. See you soon,” he said.

Mohammed began his career at Royal Media Services as a political reporter and rose up the ranks, having ran various shows including the News Night (Tuesday), Big Question..etc.

Impeccable journalist

Many of his fans have described him as a no-nonsense, impeccable, objective and candid journalist. Mohamed Hussein was the winner of male media personality of the year award 2018.

What will you miss in Mohamed Husein?

Which category of a Christian a you?

A story is told about a young boy who got to church one Sunday morning before official mass/ service time and started playing the church piano. His parents were probably busy that they never noticed their little son tamper with church instruments. Listen here, we have different categories of Christians. There are those that just attend service and leave. Then come back the following weekend. They don’t give a damn about what happens in between. This is where most of us fall. Then we have the more serious Christians. These ones are mostly church leaders and rightfully so. They are the ones who ensure that everything is in place for the normal running of the church. They ensure the House of God is clean, well arranged, they coordinate when guests are around, ensure the pastors are well taken care of…et cetera. By the way pastor hawezi hubiri vizuri kama hajashiba.

Devotion

So mostly, the latter group will get to church early than everyone else and ensure everything is in place for the day. They also leave last. That is why church leadership is purely sacrifice. If you are not ready for the sacrifices, please pack and go. Better yet, don’t take up the positions. Let those who are ready, willing and able do. That explains my assumption that the young kid’s parent(s) were most likely running up and down trying to ensure that everything was in place for the service that was about to begin within a few minutes. Hence, they were not even aware what their son was doing but they knew he was safe. Where else can one be safe if not in the Lord’s House?

The other church members who had already settled on the pews did not like what the young boy was doing. To begin with, he never knew how to play the piano. So, he was just causing disturbance with the pathetic sounds he was producing on the piano. Some were probably meditating and reflecting. Those moments when one needs peace; externally and internally. Thus a few minutes before service was the perfect time. Too bad. Little man wasn’t having any of that. He just wanted to play his new found piano no matter how pathetic he was at it.

They tried to stop him by taking him away to the kids’ benches but that did not help much. He would come back again. They finally let him be albeit grudgingly. You know kids will always be kids.

How God works

Just about that time, the official church pianist walked in and occupied his space. Everybody sighed with relief. Finally, someone who plays the piano like his life depended on it (maybe it did) was around. They were now ready to listen to the best musical notes as they had always done on Sundays.

But wait. The pianist was not in any hurry. He never stopped the young boy from playing the piano. He actually encouraged him to go on much to the amusement of the congregants. He took his seat, moved next to the piano and started helping the young boy play. He whispered to him, ” press the buttons you can reach, I will press the ones you cannot reach”. Little man was happy. His little fingers and those of his new-found mate were now filling the church with wonderful heavenly music. That was the best music that was ever played in that church.

Do you know why? Because of these powerful words from the pianist, ” Press the buttons you can reach, let me press the ones you cannot reach”. The pianist, in his wisdom, knew that young kids need encouragement and guidance to bring out the best in them. He never reprimanded the young boy. He knew how to make use of his little fingers.

We are the young boy and life is our piano. The world is the congregation. God is the pianist. Life is vast and murky and the world is unforgiving. It is not understanding. It doesn’t give a damn. But God our pianist is walking in at the right time. Just when the world has had enough of us and wants to throw us out literally, he softly whispers to us and tells us to press the buttons we can and leave the rest to him. He will press the ones we cannot reach. And guess what is about to happen, the congregants will be treated to the best music ever heard!

That is what God is speaking to us today and always. Press the keys you can. Hizo zingine wachana nazo. He will press them. In our lives, in our work places, in our families, in our daily hustles, do your part. Allow others to also do their part. Help them if possible. Collaborate, team up, encourage, motivate, guide, mentor, nurture and lift others. We are all asked to do our part, then leave the rest to God. In his own time and comfort, he will press the remaining keys. And everybody will enjoy the music!

Have yourselves a blessed week people!

PS: Coming from a weekend, we need some motivation ama namna gani my frens? There you have it.

ANN LANDERS

Very important for every parent

1. Remember that a child is a gift from God, the richest of all blessings. Do not attempt to mold him in the image of yourself, your father, your brother or your neighbor.  Each child is an individual and should be permitted to be himself.
2. Don’t crush a child’s spirit when he fails. And never compare him with others who have outshined him.
3. Remember that anger and hostility are natural emotions.  Help your child to find socially acceptable outlets for these normal feelings or they may be turned inward and erupt in the form of physical or mental illness.
4. Discipline your child with firmness and reason. Don’t let your anger throw you off balance.  If he knows you are fair, you will not lose his respect or his love.  And make sure the punishment fits the crime.  Even the youngest child has a keen sense of justice.
5. Remember that each child needs two parents. Present a united front.  Never join with your child against your mate.  This can create in your child (as well as in yourself) emotional conflicts.  It can also create feelings of guilt and insecurity.
6. Do not hand your child everything his little heart desires. Permit him to know the thrill of earning and the joy of receiving.
7. Do not set yourself up as the epitome of perfection. This is a difficult role to play 24 hours a day.  You will find it easier to communicate with your child if you let him know that mom and dad can err too.
8. Don’t make threats in anger or impossible promises when you are in a generous mood. Threaten or promise only that which you can live up to.  To a child, a parent’s word means everything.  The child who has lost faith in his parents has difficulty believing in anything.
9. Do not smother your child with superficial manifestations of “love”. The healthiest love expresses itself in day-in, day-out training, which breeds self-confidence and independence.
10. Teach your child there is dignity in hard work, whether it is performed with callused hands that shovel coal or skilled fingers that manipulate surgical instruments. Let him know a useful life is a blessed one and a life of ease and pleasure-seeking is empty.
11. Do not try to protect your child against every small blow and disappointment. Adversity strengthens character and makes us compassionate.  Trouble is the great equalizer.
12. Teach your child to love God and to love his fellow humans. Don’t SEND your child to a place of worship, TAKE him there.  Children learn from example.  Telling him something is not teaching him.  If you give your child a deep and abiding faith in God, it can be his strength and his light when all else fails.

Ann Landers

I conceived again not very long after my miscarriage. The happiness! The joy! The relief! The Hope! The ecstasy! The jubilation! I felt that my tears had been dried and this was my second chance to give my hubby a child. My rainbow was here after the storm. My restoration had arrived.
One afternoon, I noticed a blood spot on my tissue after attending a short call of nature. Shivers ran down my spine. My hair stood on ends and a sweat broke on my forehead. Tears filled my eyes. I thought the devil had knocked again. I was eight weeks pregnant. I spent the rest of the day in bed, waiting for the worst. I called a friend on my phone, who encouraged me and prayed for about 40 minutes on her phone, using her own airtime. She made me believe it was well and encouraged me to eliminate the fear. True to her faith, nothing more happened. I did not spot again. The pregnancy thrived. The bump grew. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, one after the other. The little baby played in my womb everyday.

Pain

One day I started experiencing back pains and abdominal cramping, with slight diarrhoea. I told my husband perhaps some beans I had eaten were causing the bloating and cramping. Unknown to me, it was not my “food tummy” but my uterus that was cramping. Kifumba-macho. I was only six months pregnant. By the third day, the pain had increased and so had my worry. My husband accompanied me to my clinic so I could at least get some remedy for the discomfort. One look at my face and the nurse asked me, ” unaumwa?” ( are you in labour?). I did not understand her question in her context, so I just said, ” Yes, I feel pain”. Instead of being taken to the lab as I expected, I was taken to the labour room and my cervix observed. ” 2cm”, she said. That was an emergency declaration. ” Don’t go home, go to a bigger hospital right now, as we have no incubators here.  They may either delay the labour or deliver the child and place it in an incubator.”

Shock

You can only imagine our shock. I burst into tears. We walked out of the Clinic and started the journey to Kenyatta National Hospital (KNH).
Barely a kilometre away from the clinic, blood gushed out of me, and so did my strength. A great urge to push the baby out came. I panicked. Luckily, my husband did not panic. The adrenaline gush in him gave him even greater determination to get me to the hospital in the shortest time possible. Off he went, flying past stop signs and ignoring every other road user. To him, the whole world had stopped existing, all that mattered was the lives of his wife and child, both in danger at that point.

I was received at KNH and quickly wheeled to labour room on a stretcher. All my clothes were soiled with blood, meaning that the placenta had detached from the uterus. My poor baby was in danger. I delivered him at 1 pm, a tiny little boy. Instead of crying, he was squeaking! I was extremely happy because he was alive. I could not hold him as he had to be rushed to resuscitation room shortly after birth, for his lungs were too weak to allow him easy breathing. At about 6 pm, I was wheeled to a ward since I was then stable. I could not sleep, even though I was tired and weak. All I wanted was to see my son.

” Why me?”

At midnight, I followed other mums to New Born Unit (NBU) where our preterm babies were. Instead of being led to my child’s machine, I was led to a chair and made to sit down. The bad news was broken to me, my child had succumbed. Ah! Pain struck my heart like a poisoned dagger. I looked at the Doctor and asked him one question whose answer he did not have. ” Why me?” Shortly after, I was led to a small room, like a store full of small cribs. There, on one crib, lay my little boy, with the inscription of my name on a tag around his wrist. SALOMARY WANJIKU. That was a confirmation that he was mine, as that tag is usually placed immediately after birth. I broke down and fell on my knees, crying torrents of tears. Death had struck me a blow for the second time. My son, my six- months companion, had left me.

Broken!

I staggered back to my ward, covered myself with a blanket on my bed and cried alone, without drawing any attention. Just before dawn I texted my husband and told him not to bring any diapers, for our Matthew was gone. The next few days were darkness. Milk filled my breasts, I had nowhere to take it. I kept wishing I could hear a commotion of people running about, saying that an abandoned baby had been found on the roadside or in the bushes. I swore I would run there, take it away from whoever would be holding it, sit down on the grass while they watched in shock and breastfeed it! That was my wish day and night. I lost all hope and the near-death experience haunted me. I was lost in an island of grief. Life had lost meaning. I looked at my baby’s clothes and wet them with tears. I hugged them and called out my son’s name. I would cry in the toilet, in the bathroom, under my blankets, wherever, whenever. I was broken!