STORIES FROM MY HEART

What a year it has been, all 2 months of it albeit! So we kicked off the Citizen Business centre on the 19th of February, basically a centre that discusses all things money. The show airs every Wednesday at 9pm on Citizen Television. First Wednesday we talked housing, in specific, mortgages and the deep hole it has thrown a number of Kenyans into. In the backdrop of a housing sector that was left to the Private Sector after the Bretton woods institutions convinced the government to opt out of housing, affordable home ownership became a myth. The markets run free and millions of Kenyans who would have benefited from an otherwise clear government housing plan were left out. Jericho, BuruBuru and all the other government or PPP programmes disappeared with the 80's. So Mortgages came to create a solution, but for many, became a curse. Truth be told however, Mortgage in itself is not hell, but understanding how to make it work for you within the interest rates available has ...

MY 2013: I love prams. Beautiful ones pushed by doll heeled mummies and beautiful daddies in grey button up sweaters laughing on a Saturday afternoon, blue skies headed for a picnic in a park. Because I am a dreamer. I love the musky smell of the night life with disco lights, blue lagoon shots, noisy drunks, sequined dresses and beautiful strangers.Because I know how to have a good time, and in 2013 I had a fair share of both, rule out the designer prams though. I watched TV too. Series mostly. I like Scandal. The truth is that I have a girl crush on Kerry Washington; her exquisite wardrobe, her powerful walk and her good yet so wrong super passionate relationship with the President,her wardrobe reminds me of Lucy Liu in Cashmere mafia. I like devious maids and their interesting lives. Complex,maybe a little like mine. Someone called my life fast paced. I call it exciting. And it is. It was in 2013. I went to Church, regularly. I prayed and I read the bible. I sinned too. But G...

Flashing lights,Speeding automobiles Honking drivers, gas filled tanks Loud music,bopping heads Nairobi Nights Packed Parking slots Men, women on cell phones Darting eyes, Drunken Gazes Nairobi Nights Friendly bar-folk, perfect strangers Tequila Patron and a man who's new in town Dry white wine and a dry spell stares Nairobi nights Curvy women, pot bellied men Handsome exboyfriends and slit eyed women Stilettos and dusty shoes, sweaty, humid, sexy, even Nairobi Nights Jameson, Captain Morgan and sexy platforms Absolute Vodka, Chanel No 5 and cheap wallets Men in suits and women with wanting eyes Nairobi Nights Keys on tables and a heated rush Sweaty palms and roving eyes French Kisses and chinese tables Engines raving and creaking beds Nairobi Nights. I love my Nairobi nights.

I recently re-branded a venture that I put my heart into about a year and a half ago, and part of the rebranding took on a great deal of identifying purpose and my commitment towards developing my personal brand. The ladies that know me well know me as the one who will do your make-up and attempt to re-do your wardrobe if you make the mistake to spend the night at my house. I am practically obsessed with style and make-overs. With time, I have learnt to appreciate the cliche that we use quite often but pay little attention to: "You only have one chance at first impressions" For a long time, this quote referred to the physical: The clothes I wore, How I did my make-up, what shoes I had on and my posture etc, but I have now learnt that it starts from within and whatever impression one gives is only an indication of what's bubbling underneath. That's where the real stuff is. That's where greatness begins. Last week I read about the 'Elevator Pitch...

Thought I'd share my favourite poem in the whole wide world! Maya Angelou, Still I rise. Still I Rise by Maya Angelou You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries? Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as...