Focal Point

Education. Such a noble cause, yet  can be a fool's paradise and a pain in the butt if taken lightly. It is said that education affects the quality of life. But what is true is that only quality education guarantees quality life. In Kenya education has ceased being about learning and become more about who attaains the very first letter of the alphabet. Education has become more about syllabus. If anything, education, as seen through the skeptic's eyes, should be discarded and replaced with learning, acquisition of knowledge and skills without the confines of a linear system of knowing things. It is learning that is an eternal phenomenon and not education. Now to waylay any misunderstanding that may get any stalwarts of education on my vulnerable throat, I am not against schools and curriculum. What I seek to antagonise in this confused rant is the teaching of children about things only applicable within the confines of a class room- 'Text book learning'. In most of ou

Part 1 What really is life? Is life even real? What even constitutes reality? Life is different things to different people. Life is money. Life is sex. Life is knowledge. Life is partying. Aside from breathing, life really has no single definition. Life is religion. Life is power. Life is politics. Life is law and order. Life is drugs. Life is sobriety. Life is life. Life does what life does and therefore adheres to no Diety nor plans. Life is just complex. Seeing as to how life can be so diverse, it is my belief that we live as we believe life means to us. No two people can lead the same kind of life. There could be a few similar setpieces but the flow of life is as vast as the number of people on earth. Human complexity oversimplify life and overcomplicate the simplicity of life. Life is simply too complex to be understood and understanding life might be the end of living. The moment the winds of life are at our whims, manipulation checks in. Humanity simply cannot be trusted wit

My country My love Sweet and mellow Like a dove In you I was raised In you I grew And in you I will die I will forever hold you in exhalted esteem Higher than the tallest of landmarks Your making, my being Your being, my existance Do those that make you look bad Not see the thunder you steal By the athletes you raise? Do they ignore the performers you raise All for a cheap sensationalism to get ahead? By nature you have weaknesses But by nature too you have strengths And it is in your thriving goodness That we revel We are here Because we conquered, Laid to rest our fear So as they pelt us Stone us for their amusement We desensitise And trudge on in defiance Because blessed is you Kenya, my land. With eyes ahead Over obtacles, we keep moving Backwards never, lest we keep losing And in our grinding We keep you growing Eyes firmly on the road To  see how far we head With our faces brimming with hope As we lay the ghosts of the past to bed. I love you

Dear Government, Ref: CONCERNING OUR EDUCATION SYSTEM The recent unrest in some of our high schools is a matter of deep concern. For a place considered the epitome of a functional society, the schools have been cast in bad light following these misdeeds by rogue students, actions that throb with regression. For good cause, it set off those alarm bell in us and brought focus to more pressing issues than watching politicians try to outdo each other in this game of 'Who sucks the hardest'. I choose to decry the curriculum for being too uptight and stuck up on books. I fault it and roast it on a criticism barbeque for its rigidity, I believe it makes students puppets that mimic their teachers. Indeed, our current education system leaves a lot to be desired and a change should be considered. To clear the air, I in no way agree with Prof Jacob Kaimenyi on the abolition of Mocks just because a few students expressed a dislike towards it,because seriously students, you fear exams t

I am the attendant, Standing ignored at the shelves, Unthanked at the counter. The carrier, Barely looked at at the car park, Always heavy- laden with load. Sometimes I get as tip a pat on back And pocket change if I'm in luck. The maker, Always underpaid for things well done, Forgotten when things done go well, Only turned to when things fall apart. I am the sales person, That sells without reward, Only kept afloat by meagre wages, Left hanging at the end of it all, And yet forced to smile, At the next annoying asshole. I am the house help, Tasked with looking after children, Whose language, Is fluent tantrums and juicy tears. I am patient with them, Yet still, always overlooked When they turn out well. I raise them, Not mummy, not daddy As both are usually busy, Busy being with other people. On occassions that other person Turns out to be me, As I can't say no To the incentives thereafter. Left in the shadows, Only called upon to calm the hea

The child, The child of the grass, Born and raised up to class, Through waves and tides, Has it ever been simple? Run... Away from the murks of penury, From the grasps of misery, How be it, that the child came to be so? A story told and retold, A legend forever in the precincts, In the fringes of current memory, Spoken of behind closed lips, Held in the periphery of recollection, Remembrance, Wake, Forever known in death, As was in life, Maybe known themore in afterlife, The child that lived at the edge of the knife, Does the child have enough to pay you, oh dear dream? Do you take cheques? Shillings? Maybe dollars? Dreams, Sleep, Nightmares, Through them the child came, Sweet nightmares, Terrible dreams, Dark mornings and bright nights, Such is the irony of life. Why nightmares in wake? Should the child forever remain in comatose As to be able to live the dream? Life seen through starry glasses, Blurry eyes and running noses, Behind diamond gates,