Reality Dream

The going may be rough

Just fit for the tough

With valley’s so deep

And ascents so steep

But loose not your vision

And work for your mission

And don’t let your hopes sink with the setting sun

But let them shine and glow like a splint burn

Don’t let your dreams become elusive mirages

But let them bring reality images

Through hard work, courage, determination and prayers

Being the only bridge leading to success.

© justicemutai


I Am Africa

They asked me who I am

Where I come from

What I am made of

I answered them’what have you seen in me?’

Is that a joke or a question of worth?

Can’t you see I am made of precious gold of black?

That question still rings in my mind

Will it ever be taken out by wind

Anywhere I go I’m judged by my skin

If it happens on me,what of my next of kin

Will they ever live in peace

Or they will all perish by the sleaze

I was born into a very precious continent

Everything I want,I do fills me with content

Apart from mother nature,my mama is Africa

I shout with joy that I am Africa

They say East or West Home is best

In Africa,my head finds an ample place to rest.

The food I eat,water that I drink

Not forgetting the blue rivers like the fountain ink

The wails and bleats of animals I hear

Joy of birds flying from trees to the world’s rear

Gladly speaking world’s voices

Africa you had to support their lives

I don’t have a place in hell,but heaven

Right now I am creating Africa’s safe haven

Big, eloquent leaders in the world you had to produce

Barrack Obama, Koffi Annan just to mention

The tinniest seed with no history you made it sprout

From the start to the end

My love for Africa will never bend.

© justicemutai

Rubbed the wrong way

Rubbed the Wrong Way
by Justice Kipchumba

On Tuesday, I got a massage. Now, I am no stranger to “the table”, having had many experiences, usually very positive, with massage therapy, but this time, it was really weird. I haven’t had a massage for over a year, but my brother and sister-in-law gave me a gift card to a fancy spa, so I thought, What the hell? Why not treat myself to something really relaxing? But now I’m starting to wonder if maybe either I’ve reached the point where relaxation is impossible, or the world of massage therapy has changed so drastically that it and I are no longer compatible.

I got to the spa after walking several city blocks in minus 10 degree weather due to College subway station being closed and under investigation for a “gun incident”. So I was absolutely freezing when I arrived. But I know the drill—go into the changeroom, get undressed, put on a thick, cushy robe, sit in a big cushy chair and wait for my blissful turn. I was getting nicely warmed up when the RMT (at least that’s who I assumed she was, but now I’m not sure) walked over, shook my hand, and said, “Hi, Suzanne, I’m Terry. It’s nice to meet you” to which I replied, “I’m…nice to meet you too,” because I was going to introduce myself then I realized that she already knew my name and then I sounded kind of dumb, but that’s par for the course. Also, my mouth was partially frozen, so technically, I could have been muttering ANYTHING.

She took me into the room, and then said, “You can take off the robe and lie down on the table. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes AFTER I WASH MY HANDS.” I put that in caps because it sounded ominous and all I could think was, a) Is it because her hands are dirty? B) She just shook MY hand. Does she think MY hands are dirty? c) If HER hands are dirty, then should I wash MY hands? Is there a sink in here?

Now, you might say that I was overthinking things, but it was a combination of nervousness (what if she walks in the door while I’m still nakedly hanging up my robe?) and general OCD hygiene issues surrounding having strangers touch me in the first place. At any rate, I got myself somewhat settled on the table after wriggling around a bit to find the least irritating way to put my face in the hole, and then she knocked and came in. She started oiling up my back and asked casually, “So I assume you’re here for a FULL body massage?” and I said “Yes.” But then I got worried by what exactly she meant by “full body”. Was this like a massage with a “happy ending”? Because it didn’t seem like THAT kind of place. Was she talking about my upper lady parts? I’d never had anyone ask this before and I really didn’t want someone kneading my boobs. But the problem was, how could I clarify this without sounding like a total weirdo myself? Finally, after wrestling with the dilemma for about 5 minutes, I said, “By full body massage, I assume you mean back, arms, legs, feet—that kind of thing? My feet are really sore from walking here, so I hope they’ll be included in the fun, ha ha ha” and that sounded really f*cking creepy and I was like, My god, I am NOT relaxed at all.

But wait. It gets worse. She assured me that yes, she would make her way around to all the parts aforementioned, but after what seemed like at least half an hour, she was still on my back. She was using her forearm and just sliding it up and down really REALLY slowly in a way that was both irritating and a little boring. And I started obsessing that we would run out of time, and my feet would NOT get to join in the fun, nor my legs. I consoled myself by promising my legs and feet that if they were left out, I would take them to Pinky Nails and get a pedicure, which for $29 Canadian includes not only a full leg and foot massage, but also while your toenails are drying, one of the girls will come over and say, “You like shoulder massage?” and GIVE YOU ONE and that is just awesome.

Finally, she did get around to my arms and legs. She was rubbing her forearm slowly up and down my left calf when suddenly, she asked, “Are your feet ticklish?” I had no idea had to respond because obviously the answer to that depends on the context, like “not normally” but “yes, if you have a feather”—apparently this was the segue into foot time.

I was quite relieved but then she did something I’ve never had done before—she washed them first. She got out these hot, wet towels and thoroughly scrubbed my feet with them, including between my toes. And I didn’t know if she was trying to be nice, or whether this just confirmed that she really DID think I was all germ-y and whatnot, and also it’s very disconcerting to have a total stranger wash your feet, like you’re some kind of biblical martyr.

After the feet, I was instructed to turn over, at which point, she started working on my shoulders, and I realized that a) she had been eating salami at some point during the day and was now breathing it down on me and b) all the essential oils in the world weren’t going to cover up that smell.

Finally, the whole ordeal was over, and she told me to go ahead and get up when I was ready—that she would be waiting for me. So I sat there for a very long time pondering the inevitable action of having to get out from under the cozy sheets and parade naked across the room yet again. I finally girded my loins (figuratively—I was naked), ran across the room, got on my robe, opened the door, and then she was—literally outside the door. She scared the sh*t out of me, and then I felt immediately guilty for making her wait so long.

And I wonder if she also thought the whole experience was strikingly abnormal, because she was like, “Well, that was great. Bathe in Epsom salts later. Bye.” and then she just disappeared.

In addition to all of this, I had another gift card on file with the spa which, combined with my new one, would cover the massage. They couldn’t find it:

Girl: Would it be under C or W?
Me: It would be under whatever you put it under.
Girl: I can’t find it.
Me: Well, I don’t have it because last time I was here, you said, “Let me take your gift card and put it on file for you.”
Girl: Do you know how much was left on it?
Me: I would if I had it, because you wrote the amount on it. But then you took it.

I made my way to the subway station to go home. It was super f*cking windy, and by the time I got on the train, my eyes were tearing really badly which wasn’t a real problem because all my make-up had been smeared off by the hole in the massage table. So there I was, hanging on to pole, sniffing and wiping tears from my smeary eyes, when a friend from work came walking towards me. “My god, is everything alright?!” she asked.

“Oh,” I answered. “I just had a massage.”

(*I woke up the next morning in agony. It took four days for my back to stop hurting and now I think that she wasn’t actually a massage therapist after all, just a demon with large forearms.)

© justice 2018

The 5 cow initiative

The 5 cow Initiative
By Justice Kipchumba

The 5 cow initiative seeks is a profitable project I started to mobilize the available raw materials in farms, houses and generally the environment to create profits and ensure that people get quality milk and job opportunities from the project for sustainability.
The project components consist of a zero grazing that is able to accumulate up to 10 cows, a feeding trough, a water trough, feeds storage and farm machines and a biogas project. A zero grazing to start with is made up of strong concrete on the floor, constant water supply, a biogas digester and a milking yard. A calf pen and feeds storing and preserving facility.
The project is not generally attributed to dairy farming but a ranch can be constructed by somebody who needs to venture into beef farming and use it as a profitable venture or venture into rearing calves to heifers and selling them. This idea was thought out last December by our family and some of my friends which foreso the construction of a mini zero grazing because we are living in an urban center and there is no space to rear livestock due to space and labour required may not be found and has to be looked for to people who have skills in carrying out the rearing process.
The idea behind this project was because many people in urban centers rely on bought products for livelihood like from supermarkets and from rural areas then supplied to them. They can start this profitable business which will enable them get profits and gain some skills in conducting essential farm activities. There are many resources in the environment which are not used up hence this project can oversee it being used up. A large portion of rural farms have been turned up for plantation farming like in my area and rearing animals has been hard because of lack of space and regular supply of feeds. Hence, when this project is well implemented it will enable the farmers to use the maize stalks as feeds by making silage and grass from farms to rear them and also create an instant income generating project than waiting for a longer time like from those working class individuals.
The business will make money from sale of milk products to shops, brokers and also supplying them to Kenya Co-operative Creameries and to households in both urban and rural areas. The project highly welcomes funding, donations and material and non material support for it to run well. The project hopes from growing from a zero grazing unit to creating it’s own ranch then to a milk coolant at it’s compound and being a government incorporated company. Hence the founders are working tirelessly to ensure that this idea is a success by ensuring it’s efficiency in running and management and also community extension through research and looking for better ideas and support.
For it to work well it needs Kshs 15,000,000 for it to run well and perform it’s activities.


DRACHEN’S TREASURE Neath peculiar mist, o’er fragrant pines Slept legends beast in an abandoned mine In bleak tunnels creep, brave castle’s Knight In the darkness he creeps, in armour bright Dark creatures lurk neath watery murk Bones creak n’ irk whilst Drachen smirks Many men he’s slain, in league with greed His dragon flames cleanse great misdeeds Sliv’ry sword in hand and heart a flutter No breath be drawn, nor word be uttered To grant swift her wish, sweet Lady fine To bringeth her jewels from Drachen’s mine He made light his step with delicacy Whilst Drachen slept, he stole his key Sweeping high, his sword to pierce his brain Neath moonless sky, great Dracon’s, slain… Laden with gold, his dreams came true Mesmerised by stones of pretty hues “Hark!” said witch with blue firey eyes ”Sir, pray thee flee, lest ye meet demise!” Poor crone, all twisted, lived alone Sat weeping tears of sapphire stone Her wretched face, once beauty fair Was bewitched to watch o’er Drachen’s lair “Pray, kiss me, Knight, I’ll give my life” “My wilted lips to kiss sweet love’s delight” Blind-eyed he kissed her tender n’ true To give old crone, fair-face anew Before him stood his finest jewel Sweet maiden fair, his heart enthralled Bowing, besotted by her sight Quest forgot, he rode till morning’s light O’er fragrant pines hangs a purple mist In ancient mines, Dracon’s treasure sits.