Two hunters are out in the woods when one of them collapses. He doesn’t seem to be breathing and his eyes are glazed. The other guy takes out his phone and calls the emergency services.

He gasps: “My friend is dead! What can I do?” The operator says: “Calm down, I can help. First, let’s make sure he’s dead.” There is a silence, then a gunshot is heard. Back on the phone, the guy says: “OK, now what?”

It is early in the morning and from where I am seated, I can hear the sounds of Nairobi as it comes alive for another day of busyness. I can feel the energy of the herds of people as they furiously stampede into the Central Business District in an endless stream of vehicles that sounds like the roar of a mighty river, punctuated by varying pitches of ‘peep’ sounds of car horns, and just a while ago, a loud siren of an emergency vehicle.

Sometimes when I hear that siren, I think about the anxiety that someone else might be feeling since in most cases, one who is close to them is in danger. And when I look at myself and know that I am fine and that to the best of my knowledge everyone that I know is fine, I thank God for his grace. For, what is grace? It is favor that we get despite the fact that we didn’t do anything to deserve it. I know that I didn’t do anything to deserve good health and all the benefits that come with it, or both my parent that I can see any day that I want, or the intelligence that enables me to do my work each day, or even love and peace and other states on mind that matter to me.

It is easy for anyone to see the grace of God, especially when they look for it. If you do, I suppose there is good reason for you and I to say a huge “Thank You” to God.

My friend and I were looking at the meaning of the word ‘gullible’. Apparently, gullibility is a failure of social intelligence in which a person is easily tricked or manipulated into an ill-advised course of action. When I look at the definition I cannot help but think that we are usually so guarded so as not to be taken advantage of by other people, that we often overlook the one place where we are likely to be tricked. I considered what ‘gullibility’ means, and asked myself if it applies to me. And as I thought about it, I realized that on many occasions, I have watched my mind do to me exactly what the phrase said “easily tricked or manipulated into an ill-advised course of action”.

Now, the mind is something else…it will convince you into doing something that you already know is not good for you. It lurks, waiting for your weak moments and will advance its clever arguments into making you believe that you will only feel better after you give in. If you are adamant, it will assure you that despite what might have happened in the past that this time it will be different…that you really need this…that if there is anyone who deserves to feel good, it is you. It is one of those ‘try it and you will thank me’ cons. But as soon as you do it, the mind turns against you with condemnation and accusations. And with such a negatively strong wrath that it frightens you into a corner when you have no voice of your own. Not only does it judge you for this one wrong, but it also drags out all the other wrongs from the past and that are not even related to this one, and even goes a step further to assure you that you are condemned to mess again in the future. And you want to hide your face, not so much for the embarrassment of what you did, but for the shame of being made to feel so bad about yourself by someone that you trust…that you fell for the same trick all over again. When will it stop?

But I suppose even to the man who wrestles the legendary bull by its horns in a public arena, in the privacy of his mind is where the real battle rages and therefore the only place where real triumph can be experienced. In the mind, unprecedented turbulence often means that one has reached a key conundrum and that might require time and patience to resolve. Sometimes, it feels like we do not have the resources to handle the funk, and an early exit must be the only way, but as is often quoted, God does not present to us challenges we cannot overcome. If we were to take God for his word, we might then find it prudent to ask him to provide us with the strength required to win the battles. After all, prayer is one of our resources. We might even as be so bold as to say that God is one of our resources and truthfully proclaim, “If God is for us, who can be against us!”?

Life is a gift. Like any other gift that someone might give you, you are the one responsible for adding value to life.

So how do we add value to the gifts that we receive? Take the example of a vase. What if someone was to give you such a gift? You might opt to put flowers in it and showcase it an a prominent space in your house where you and others will see it often. As a result, each time you see the beautiful flowers, you will also see the vase which contains those flowers and hence appreciate it for the purpose that it serves. On the other hand, one might decide to accept the vase and just let it be. They probably will leave it in a private corner in the house to prevent it from being accidentally broken.

These two vases have the same intrinsic value; art pieces made from clay. We can even assume that they cost the same amount of money at the gift shop. However, the first vase has added value by virtue of the purpose that is serves. The person that received it as a gift is the one that gave it that value.

Throughout your life, you have received many gifts; such as your inborn talents and skills that you acquired from school. Do you know what those gifts I am talking about are? Are they lying somewhere in a safe corner to avoid damage, or are they meaningfully showcased in all their glory for the world to see?

Utilization of gifts leads us in a direction that will make us have an idea of what our purpose in life is. However, other than knowing what the gifts are, it is important for one to know what the gifts can be used for. For example, a vase is useful in showcasing flowers and will break if we try to use it as a hammer for nails. So, learn also where to apply your gifts most effectively.

Right opposite the building from where my office is, there is a small gap between two buildings that has some sheds that contain stalls where you can see second hand shoes and clothes on sale. If you venture inside the sheds, about a quarter way in, the clothes and shoes give was to eating houses where cuisine with uncommon names such as “chapo mandondo” is served. When I think about this food place, I remember a similar location that used to be right next to the Serena Hotel. We used to call it “The Serena B”. Now, considering the location of the food place near my office relative to Serena Hotel, and taking into account all the other factor that would enable you to rank any eating facility, this would have to be “The Serena X”. That is where I had my breakfast.

Inside Serena X, there are many tiny restaurants that all look the same although none of them has a name. The only way to identify one from the other is to call it by it’s owners name. In there somewhere, I know that one of them is owned by Steve, but I didn’t bother asking for it since it might have turned out to be much further in, and I didn’t want to delve so deeply this morning. Steve is an acquittance and when we met recently, he invited me to eat at Serena X.

You would have to experience the atmosphere inside Serena X in order to understand what it is like. But if I explain it here, I can talk about wood smoke and hard benches on each side of several informal looking tables on which several men sit. The customers seem to know each other, and some are talking while two are reading the day’s newspaper. The newspaper belongs to the restaurant and might as well have a huge stamp proclaiming ‘Customers Only’ at the front page. The two mean have split the newspaper pages between them.

Serena X is for early risers. All the customers that I saw seemed to be matatu transport industry crew about to start their day. You can tell that from their uniform clothes. Believe it when I say that Serena X is for early risers, for at the hour between 5am and 6am, even a few house flies were busily buzzing around.

Each of the people that walk into the restaurant seem to know exactly what they want and the food arrives even before the order has finished leaving their mouth. All the waiters wear white lab coats that will never be white again. Like well calibrated machines, they zoom to and from the tables to the kitchen counter, either with full plates or empty dishes depending on which direction they are walking. And they are very efficient. How efficient? Let’s just say that you can feel the wind in the wake of the off-white lab coat as it sweeps the air each time it breathlessly tries to keep up with its wearer.

When I took my seat, I was a little lost for what to have for breakfast and so I chose to eat what seemed like a novel meal sitting in my neighbor’s plate…beans and a chapati…and tea. The tea arrived already sugared. In fact, the only indulgence on the table is a salt shaker. As I ate, I continued to look around and noticed the menu on the wall. Here, the most expensive meal costs 80 shillings! There was also a sticker on the wall that gives you an idea of exactly how much the Serena X management appreciates good manners; “Usiteme mate hapa! Si una handbag?” In simple English it means that if you would like to spit, to please do it in your handbag.

There are no bills or receipts of any kind in Serena X. When you are done eating, you walk to the door and pay to a hawkish looking guy, who I assumed was the owner. His eyes see all, but he will still ask you what you have eaten before he accepts your money. In addition to good manners from their customers, I suspect that the management expects honesty as well.

I didn’t know how much I was supposed to pay and so I dug into my pocket and came up with all the loose money that I had. It all amounted to 80 shillings. The only other money I had was in 1000 notes and I was apprehensive about answering the early morning question that is inevitable each time you pay with a thousand, “Hauna pesa ndogo?” (Don’t you have a smaller note?). In my estimate, I expected to be charged 100 shillings, but then when I asked the cashier/owner how much I owed, he said 50 shillings. 50 shillings! For a plate of beans and a chapati and a cup of pre-sugared tea?! I have to say for the good feeling that I have in my stomach right now, this must be the Christmas bargain they keep talking about on radio.

My apartment is on the second floor and when I opened the door to the balcony after I got out of bed, I was greeted by a sunny morning spiced up with the fragrance of the fresh of a green earth after a week of heavy rain. While moving my head in order to harvest a great lungful of crisp air from all around the space on which I was standing, my eyes glanced on the wall and I say a slug. The slug had a shiny cream color and was extended full length as if it was about to make a huge lunge forward, making me think of a steeplechase runner in full stride whose pose has been frozen when the viewer pressed the pause button on the remote control. And as I waited for the slug to make a contraction to facilitate forward movement, I once again wondered about the journey of the slug.

I wondered how much time it had taken the slug to move from the ground and climb the wall – all the way to the second floor. Given the slow speed at which a slug moves, and considering a slug’s life expectancy, I suppose that it must have invested a considerable chunk of its lifetime to accomplish this one task of climbing the wall. One might even conclude that climbing this particular wall is probably this slug’s lifetime achievement. Which then brings us to the next obvious question, “for what purpose?”

I suppose this question brings us to our own predicament as human beings. When we do not understand the meaning of our lives, we feel like this slug, climbing a mundane wall all its life. And at that time, for all the work that we have engaged in, we look back and see the lack of color in our accomplishments and ask “for what purpose?”

When I look at the slug, I cannot understand why it chose to climb this wall or why it had to leave the lush world of food and the companionship of other slugs down below. But then when I look a second time, I realize that this particular slug has touched my life: It caught my attention and has engaged my imagination for quite a considerable amount of time. In that time, it has enabled me to examine my own life and given me the words with which to write a story to share with you. Considering that this writing will affect you in some way, you can already see the chain reaction that the slug has set off?

We can say in jest that this slug has accomplish in 30 minutes what my school English teacher tried to accomplish for years every day that she walked into my class. But in all seriousness it probably helps us to remember that it is indeed true that all God’s creatures – You and I included – have a reason to be.

We Matter. Despite, all of our good intentions that seem too small to us and inconsequential to the universe, all the menial tasks that only seem to serve as placeholders for the existence that we hold, all the tumultuous experiences that do not seem to make any sense at all, all the places that we find ourselves so deeply buried in and that we can never seem to be able to retrace our steps from. We Matter.

I heard someone talk about love over the weekend. He equated love to a seed that is planted in a garden. And he equated the work that goes into sustaining love into the labor that goes into nurturing a garden. For after the seed is put into the ground, it then has to be watered frequently, weeds have to be removed, it has to be pruned and taken care for in all other ways; until it flourishes and later blooms and produces seeds that can then produce more fruit of the same. What does that mean? That you can identify an act of love, but can never predict in the fullness of time, how powerful that single act will eventually be. Or in other words, you can count the number of seeds in an apple, but you can never count the number of apples in a seed.

If you grew up in a village in Kenya, you probably remember the many games that you played with other children. You probably also remember that shoes used to be a Sunday affair, and so most of the time you were bare feet. And at the end of the day the feet would be dirty from trotting around all day – especially on rainy days. And the children would gather around their mother at the fireplace and start dozing on their tiny seats immediately after supper. However, it was a requirement that everyone had to wash their feet before going to bed. And the mother would warm the water and pour it in a plastic basin for each of her children to wash their feet. After each feet washing, the filthy water in the basin would be thrown out and the mother would pour more warm water for the next child to wash their feet.

For anyone who would not wash their feet before going to bed, it was just a matter of time before they were attacked by jiggers. If they still didn’t clean up, the jiggers would multiply, so much so that the pain in the feet would make it impossible for a child to play with others.

Now that we are grown up, we spend the whole day in our places of work, and when we go back home in the evening, our minds are muddied from all the negativity that we pick up and accumulate in the course of the day. After we eat our dinner and we start to feel drowsy, do we take a few moments to rid ourselves of all that negativity? A prayer will do, and so will some meditation. Journaling will do and so will some reading. Conversing with a loved one will do and so will listening to some soothing music.

When the mind is not cleansed of negativity often, one is bound to develop conditions that prevent them from doing the things that they would otherwise enjoy to do. And just as that child who did not wash his feet will look at others longingly as they play and tell himself, “I cannot play with them, I don’t want to get hurt”, the grown up who did not rid themselves of negativity will say to themselves, “I cannot do that again, I don’t want to get hurt!”

Any pain – physical or psychological – directs us to the parts of our selves that we have neglected – or that we should pay more care for. Like the feet of the little boy that played all day in the mud need to be washed every evening, this is the part of us that needs to be looked after often.

This morning, I thought about playfulness and being serious. I realize that at some point in our existence, we become so focused in our work and in tweaking our lives that the many things that used to matter years before seem to just fade in the background. The appreciation of simple things like little walks in nature and silly laughter with friends just seem to take a back seat. Once in a while when we meet someone that makes us laugh out loud, we do not even seem to recognize that sound. It usually is such a long time since we laughed!

I suppose we become serious for a good reason. Maybe we realize that life is too short and we need to put in more effort in getting to wherever our vision guides us. Or maybe we decide that for us to make a difference in the world, we need to become more focused in the things that we do. Of course that usually means more input in the office or even spending evenings with a laptop at home. Or maybe going back to school. Things like love and romance are forcefully forgotten and we get on with our busyness of life. This is despite the fact that we might already be in a relationship.

But I suppose what we really want to know is that at the end of the day, we will leave our mark in the world and that our existence counts for something. I suppose everyone unconsciously wants to leave one of those big marks that people neatly carve in exotic places that they visit that say, “Bob was here!” And if we could be totally frank; on the day of our funeral, we would be glad to see a huge crowd of people that would pay glowing tribute to our lived life as they see us off fondly. While in the throes of these morbid fantasies, I suppose that makes us feel like we could then rest in peace.

Once in a while, one comes across another person that they let into their lives. And as each day unfolds and is filled with the normal activity of life, the two people realize that they have become each others’ witness in life. If I tell my partner about my day and about my perspectives and about my aspirations without being afraid of being judged, and if I can listen to my partner in the same way, then we become witnesses to each other. In time we allow ourselves to be known by the other. So much so that if we were to be told something that is not true about the other, one would not hesitate to say, “That is not him” of “That is not her” Why? “Because I know him” or “Because I know her”. And if they were to learn about your deep secrets they would already have heard about them from you.

With a witness to tell your story, you do not need to engrave “Bob was here!” in a far away land among strangers that are also looking for a blank space in which to make their personal “Bob was here!” – sometimes even writing over where others have already written. For you know that every day of your life matters. And through the eyes of another, perhaps you can truly see what they see in you, and understand that you are enough.

Do you remember the last time you saw a break in the clouds? I would describe it as that moment that when in the midst of a long period of gray skies, a tiny window opens from above and the sun shines through for just a little while. Each time that I have seen a break in the clouds, I always marvel at how much beauty can come through in a moment. It usually happens right before your eyes, just when it is least expected. Be you engrossed in busyness or not, you cannot ignore it. In fact it takes up all your attention.

A break in the clouds makes it look like sunshine is raining from the skies. For once you look and the rays of the sun are golden yellow, just as they painted them in the kids story books. In such moments, I always think that this is how the glory of God would look like…like this is an appropriate staircase for Jesus to walk down to earth from heaven. If someone was to blow a trumpet loudly at that particular moment, I just might take off in panic! Other times, it feels like this was the exact moment that Elijah ascended into heaven on board a chariot of flaming horses. And I can almost hear the clatter of hooves and the neighs as the horses gallop upwards. But then I wonder, why would hooves make any sound if the horses are in the air?

The thing about the break in the clouds is that it is fleeting…just for a moment, and then it is gone. It leaves us with a sigh of wonder and eyes that have seen something majestic. And even when the clouds close once again and we are back to the gray, we cannot feel the gloom, for we have been seduced by something heavenly. One cannot help but look forward to the day when the clouds clear and the sun comes shining through – not through a window, but from all of God’s great sky.

Let the sun shine!