Behind The Scenes of My Life

It is now week three and I have been struggling to get up and get going. I have to spend hours convincing myself to brush my teeth and take a shower. My day starts in the afternoon and that just means my eyes reluctantly open to another painfully passive half day, spent doing nothing aside from crying and struggling to accomplish simple tasks.

Eating is out of the question. I want to starve and I just don’t care for food. Well, my stomach disagrees and I am sure it dreads having to stay hungry all day when it knows food is only a few minutes walk away. It has come to terms with not eating breakfast…

Stomach( interrupting): Excuse me! Excuse me! I will take over from here on!(clears throat)So, where were we? Oh yes, breakfast, my God-given right, has been denied. Why you ask? Because sleeping beauty here refuses to wake up.If she ever does wake up at the earliest in these last three weeks, that would be a little after noon. Even then, she won’t care for a drink of water, let alone a meal. It is during these times, I try and send her signals to feed me. I try the oldest trick in the book: growling and pinching, hoping that would scare her to grab a banana.When this does not work, I try to call the Central Nervous System to complain and send help, by springing this human into action and go get me some food, but the line has not been working these past few weeks. It just does not go through. I wonder if something’s up, up there because normally, the CNS takes care of me every day and I don’t need to make any calls except for ramadhan, then I am reminded that I will be treated mighty well and compensated with delicious meals after sunset and I have been really happy with that arrangement. However, I could swear it is not ramadhan. I could swear that because I have been neglected way too much and sometimes I am given only a few bananas for the day and that’s it. That would never have happened during ramadhan. So no, it is not ramadhan. The CNS would have told me if it was. What is going on?CNS? Anyone?

Me(interrupting): Can I please finish what I was saying?

Stomach: Sure, but hurry up and EAT something soon, ANYTHING!

Me: Okay sure, of course. Just a few minutes.

Me: Did I mention it has been tough? Yeah. Terribly, numbingly and endlessly torturous. When will I feel normal again? Reality won’t wait forever. If I remember well, I have got oral exams coming soon, when was that? First of November? Or was it sometime later? In any case, reading any book right now would require a miracle; the sea-splitting- into-two type of miracle for Zeinab, not Israelis, to read atleast one book.

God in heaven, can’t I be a Moses? Or better yet David, so I can defeat this giant that is eating up the quality of my life?

A few minutes before now, I successfully managed to shower. While in the bathroom, contemplating my pathetic helplessness, I held the soap in my couldn’t-care-less right hand , and as I forced it to slide the soap over my I want-to-be-anywhere-else-but-here body, I found myself laughing at my sorry state of being. Even this simple and necessary act of basic hygiene, makes me uncaring and unfeeling. Hahahahaha! I chuckled bitterly as an idea came to my limp mind. I saw myself before I came to this world, negotiating with whoever it was, what hell I was going to pick to experience on earth. There were several choices displayed before me: cancer, physical disability, depression and the list went on and on and I picked depression with an added bonus of anxiety and a mood disorder. I must have also picked lovelessness, family dysfunction and secret child syndrome to complete the amazing ensemble! Wow! I am so lucky! Indeed.

Sarcasm aside, I believe there is a messed-up system in this world which makes me doubt it has our best interests at heart. We are practically handed stuff we never asked for and have to work hard throughout our life to get stuff we need to survive. I don’t think God did this. I imagine there was a group of somethings that hijacked the control room of the world stage. And I would not trust them with my cat’s dinner, let alone my life. No wonder every religion I am close to speaks of a better life, an eternal life far far faaaaaaaar away from this one. That is a relief, because this one!!No this shouldn’t, cannot, must not be it!

As long as I can remember, I have been fighting an elusive monster I don’t fully understand. On the best days, it makes me so happy I could burst with ecstacy and feelings of fulfillment and purpose but on the worst days, I struggle to get out of bed for the day. Well, I am telling this monster, right here, right now, I see you now. You cannot hide anymore!


Everything makes sense now. It is like that moment people finally realized the Earth was flat, despite having pulled off a mean joke to us all that it was round. Looks can be deceiving, and this analogy fits like a spandex on my painfully-bulging thighs of a life. I am not okay. And that’s okay.


I cannot describe what is wrong with me. I have no name for this monster that has dug its menacingly sharp claws into my life and that of my family, but I know it is there. I don’t need to wonder anymore. I don’t need to guess why I have a hard time sticking to a project to the end, or committing myself to school, or hanging out with friends or leading a normal healthy, social and adventurous life, or never being able to let go of past disappointments, or expecting the worst to happen always, never being able to maintain stable relationships and feelings, or being volatile, ever-changing, ever reinventing myself, ever wandering into and out of depression or never fully feeling safe and secure in my body. I know now. The monster won’t let me. That is why.


What do I call this monster? Why did it choose me? Why did it choose my family? How do I break free from it? How do I free my family from it? Is it a generational curse?If so, who cursed us? Is it the devil? Or was it just a random mean person? Is the monster a test from God? How can I reclaim my life? How can I heal myself and my family? How do we become happy and healthy? How can we lead a normal life?


I feel sorry for myself. I feel shortchanged by life. I was given the short end of the stick of life. Before I was even born, someone already decided I was not going to win. Someone had already set a horror stage which would characterize the tumultuous and defeating events of my life. I was going to have to fight through my life, with overwhelming odds put against this lonely, sad and old soul of a book worm, with only her faith in God( if he ever exists) as her armament. Her life, everyday, seemed like a scene from Squid Games, never knowing if she will fall or fly, in the next game and the next,of her life. Will luck be on her side?

Because Joel osteen advises me to speak victory over my life, I am going to say this to the monster who has been haunting me and my family for generations, and to every monster who is manifested in different ways as different storms in other people’s life across the world, God Is Still On the Throne!I will defeat you and reclaim my wholeness. In the refuge of my good God, my loyal God I will find healing, wholeness and the restoration of my health and wellbeing. By his might and the power which resides in his name the most high, you will release your grip from me and my family as well as all other families which you have entrapped in your hellish abode, and you will disintegrate and disappear as if you have never existed in our lives. Amin

Why Am I Unhappy? I Did Everything Right

I was told to study and study hard I did. Education will give you a job, then you will not need anyone,I was told. So I put my nose to the grindstone and worked my way through a gruesome 8,4,4 curriculum. Just like that, 16 good years of my life were gone. As if those were not enough, someone decided to add another several years of my golden life, because of all the careers in the world, God decided I should become a lawyer. (Was it God or my misguided unwise self back then? I don’t know. Sorry God)

I hardly remember the excruciating moments through nursery to University Graduation Day. I think that is mostly because our minds have a therapeutic way of making us forget our pain, if it proves to be too much for us to handle. Or, there are just too many distractions or demands for our time and attention throughout our life, that we hardly have time to recall what we ate yesterday, let alone what trauma we have been subjected to in our past. That must be it! We are just too busy doing the wrong things which hardly give us any joy! Think about it! If you cannot come forth and say it, I will: I am too unhappy and I cannot for the life of me understand why that is! I did everything right! I even walked the extra mile of picking one of those career paths that should guarantee prestige and success. Then why am I depressed? Where is the joy that was promised to all of us hard-working souls ? Where is the paradise?

I want to say someone must have lied to us! Education might be important but I am starting to think that an overzealous investment in a career path which empties the bank, your youth and your mental health and which gives very little in return, is not the right way to go! Absolutely not advisable! It does not pass the common sense test!

Not to come off as too negative. I am not trying to say we should not become professionals. Far from it! What I am saying is invest wisely. Spend your energy on something which brings you happiness. If something asks too much of you and you know you could do better pursuing something else, please listen to your heart.

Some people love food and dining but they end up becoming civil engineers, not chefs! Why? Some people love to write but you cannot see a single course in our Kenyan Universities that will guarantee you a career as a successful author. And what do such people do? We become the closest or farthest thing from what we love, lawyers or even doctors! Instead of waking up everyday excited about our next idea for our next book or to simply read the next best book, we have to attend thousands of hours of classes trying to teach us how to draft a freaking notice of motion with ridiculous affidavits. Don’t start me on civil and criminal procedure and the damn rules of hell. Where is the inspiration? What room is there for creativity and personal expression? Not every letter should have “the subject matter refers!” I find these formal letters boring and mediocre, to say the least. I never loved rules when it came to writing. They simply suffocate your creativity and are a sure fire way of chasing the writer out of you!

On a more positive note(trust me I am trying to smile), I realize it is not the end of the world. I also thankfully realize, that I have this wonderful platform to write and share my thoughts with my wonderful readers all across the universe.I did not throw away my passion for writing and even if it is tiny and cannot be compared to thousands of dollars invested on exhausting miserableness that is my career, I was able to invest a few dollars every year for this blog that is my breath of fresh air!

The message in this whole catastrophe is, please do something you love!

You Don’t Have To Fight Anymore

Dear all of you who have been in hell,

You don’t have to fight anymore!

You survived. You came through to the other side of hell. You no longer have to take a defensive stance anymore. You are safe.

I know the place you have come from. A place which made you suffocate. A toxic home environment. A narcissistic ex. A deal gone wrong. Cancer. Heartbreak and pain. That place made you scared. It is a dark place to be at. You held on with all your strength. And had to borrow some. You refused to give up. You wanted to so much, but you could not pack up and run. Because where else would you go? Who cared enough about what you had been through. All people saw was a wreck. All people heard in your cries was complaints. They would not understand. No they just don’t care. Because it is not happening to them. They will only care to judge, saying, ” Oh you have changed!”. How do they expect you to remain the same, when all that you went through alone took such a toll on your very essence as a soul. Don’t they remember the wars you had to fight alone? One against them all? How could they forget your dark nights of the soul? Those moments you wished you had died. But alive you still remained. How would they know? They would not understand. You gave your all in the fight. But the dark hole took just as much as well. It took your smile. Your free spirit. It stole your heart and turned it to bile. It made sure you would always stay afraid. Afraid of trusting in the world. Afraid of opening your heart. Your softness turned into aggression. Your warmth to ice. You built walls. As high up as the sky. Nobody could break through to reach your true self. You stayed alert. Always weary of others’ intentions. You don’t need to fight anymore. The worst is over.

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