Today am feeling low, i don't feel like replying any mails, i don't feel like answering my phone. I just want to run away and just for a minute forget the hurt i feel inside.
With nowhere to run to or hide, i will just drift to my world of writing, maybe i will find some comfort. A month ago i thought i had it all, a good job, a good man and great family and friends, but today i feel as if am all alone. Honestly i never thought anyone would be capable of making me feel so low and sad, guess am human after all.
Today am learning a great lesson, that Love is sacrifice, that i have to sacrifice alot in order to be happy. That i should fight for love but i do not how to fight. When it comes to love i have always shielded my heart from the pain but today i can feel its breaking into pieces and i can do nothing about it.....
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
Ghetto Story
Yesterday as I watched the news, I saw some youths protesting over the killing of a young man by the police. They all said he was not a thief but the police thought otherwise. As I watched the story, I remembered the late Zion, who was a friend, a neighbor back in Mathare slums.
Zion was a good friend, we grew up playing together and giving each other hope that we would succeed. He was a football player and he did love the game, he even traveled out of the country to represent in a youth tournament. I could not have been happier for him, he was living his dream.
After his trip things changed, he wanted to be rich no matter what, and he became the ladies man. His new lifestyle demanded money which he did not have, he turned to stealing. He was arrested, I remember going to see him in jail, and he was all teary. Asked him what had happened to the dream, he said poverty had changed him. That was a poor excuse. The gods were on his side for he was released after a few months.
Zion never changed, he became more experienced. Whenever we talked he reminded me to never give up the dream. Luck was not on Zion’s side, he was gunned down. He was wearing an Arsenal (his favorite team) t-shirt and blue jeans. There was a pregnant girl crying, she was one of Zion’s girlfriends.
Youths were protesting that an innocent young man had been killed, but I knew better. They all knew the truth but they wanted someone to blame, I blamed society and I blamed Zion for giving up on his dream.
I walked from the scene, because I saw a dream die that day.
Zion, am still pursing my dream……
Zion was a good friend, we grew up playing together and giving each other hope that we would succeed. He was a football player and he did love the game, he even traveled out of the country to represent in a youth tournament. I could not have been happier for him, he was living his dream.
After his trip things changed, he wanted to be rich no matter what, and he became the ladies man. His new lifestyle demanded money which he did not have, he turned to stealing. He was arrested, I remember going to see him in jail, and he was all teary. Asked him what had happened to the dream, he said poverty had changed him. That was a poor excuse. The gods were on his side for he was released after a few months.
Zion never changed, he became more experienced. Whenever we talked he reminded me to never give up the dream. Luck was not on Zion’s side, he was gunned down. He was wearing an Arsenal (his favorite team) t-shirt and blue jeans. There was a pregnant girl crying, she was one of Zion’s girlfriends.
Youths were protesting that an innocent young man had been killed, but I knew better. They all knew the truth but they wanted someone to blame, I blamed society and I blamed Zion for giving up on his dream.
I walked from the scene, because I saw a dream die that day.
Zion, am still pursing my dream……
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