Communication Skills Audio Lessons

Lessons

Saturday 29 April 2017

FATHERHOOD

EDWIN KIPTANUI CHIRCHIR edchirchir@yahoo.com edchirchir85@gmail.com


PHOTO CREDIT: PIXABAY

Our acting last born, let us call him A.K the second, is currently two years and four months old and he now thinks he is a man, who is old enough to make sensible decisions. He bullies everyone around, mostly using his screams and tears where necessary and he sometimes descends on me, his mom, nanny and elder brother with feeble blows, kicks and stinging bites.

I know those are clearly signs of erratic behaviour, but I am not about to call nanny 911, because first, such programmes are non-existent in Kenya and secondly, nanny 911 members belong to a group of people, who subscribe to the philosophy of disciplining children, by giving them a hard, threatening look in the eye, for a few seconds or minutes. I do not know how it works, but I know that such nonsense will not work with our acting last born. If you look at our acting last born in the eye, he will also look you in the eye, which then turns into a battle of will and you stare at one another in the eyes until one of you gives up and in this case, I am likely to be the one giving up, not because I am afraid of him, but because I have better things to do.

The acting last born has also taken to crying late at night, for no particular reason. It does not matter whether he is well fed or not, he will just cry. The crying is so damn irritating and unreasonable, that I am tempted to believe the theory of one evolutionary biologist, David Haig, who claims that babies cry at night, to thwart his or her parents attempt at procreating, hence preventing the arrival or birth of another sibling (https://www.sciencenews.org/blog/grow the curve/babies-cry-night-prevent-siblings-scientist-suggests). I think this makes perfect sense because, according to the above blog, when a baby cries at night, exhausted parents scramble to figure out why, hence preventing the parents from engaging in the kind of 'nonsense' which might result in another baby.

The first born on the other hand, let us call him A.K the first, is now five years and six months old. He is now calmer and sometimes we even discuss issues, which are fairly reasonable and find amicable solutions. He ask a lot of questions, some with answer and some without. He thinks I am an Albert Einstein of some sort, hence I know a lot.

He will ask why the moon comes out at night, why the sun comes out during the day, why we add tea leaves to tea, why traders shout "10 bob! 10 bob!" at the nearby market, where images on T.V come from, why we sleep at night and why we take tea in the morning. The truth is, I do not have answers to most of these questions but luckily, I always manage to mumble an answer to all of them, sometimes laced with a little bit of lying, especially when he ask why mama Sandra (the lady next door) has a protruding belly. Of course I cannot tell him there is a baby in there, because it will generate more embarrassing questions, which may demand embarrassing answers.

Our point of disagreement is when I try to teach him one of two things, touching on his home work. That is when he reminds me with a lot of contempt that I am not a teacher, hence I do not know what I am saying, never mind that I teach fully grown male students with fully grown beards and ladies old enough to carry pregnancies to full term.

The first born wants to be a pilot in future and I wish him well. I will not even attempt to discourage him. Instead I will nurture that dream, hoping that the dream will survive the torture, likely to come from high school topics like dichotomous key in biology, linear programming and calculus in math, rocks in geography, mastery of the periodic table, not forgetting organic chemistry and mole concept in chemistry. That is why we watch a lot of science documentaries on discovery channel, amidst his brief interruptions, in between documentaries, where he will ask why we do not have a baby girl in the house.

Since I do not have an answer to that, I am forced to think quickly to divert his attention.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I ask.

"A pilot." he answers.

"What does a pilot do?" I inquire.

"He 'drives' planes," comes the response.

Then he goes ahead to narrate how he will use his plane to fly his mother, brother, nanny and I on a trip around town, before parking the plane later in the day, outside our house, a space which cannot accommodate more than five vehicle. How I hope this dream comes true.


YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE: SAME OLD PROMISES

Friday 14 April 2017

SAME OLD PROMISES

EDWIN KIPTANUI CHIRCHIR edchirchir@yahoo.com edchirchir85@gmail.com


 PHOTO CREDIT: PIXABAY

I attended a political rally which was to be addressed by one Joseph Ole - Lenku, somewhere in Kitengela. For those of you who live, sleep and eat outside Kenya, you may or may not be aware that this is an election year and politicians are striving to outdo each other in terms of spending money on campaigns as well as shouting at the top of their voices, urging every Tom, Dick and Harry to vote for them.

A number of buses on location gave the indication that some people must have been ferried from other far flung areas of Kajiado county, to attend the rally. From the way people were behaving, you could easily tell who had been paid to scream and dance and who had not been paid. Of course (I promise to stop using this word too often in my articles) those who were dressed in party colors and were singing and dancing must have been paid to do that. There is no free service nowadays. Even mourners get paid to mourn total strangers.

I picked six branded caps made of paper and rubber band, for the two young boys back in the house. I told them I had gotten the caps from Uhuru Kenyatta himself, just to improve my ratings in their eyes. A rating which usually drops whenever I do not provide yoghurt. Now the boys think I must be very tough to address the president himself and ask for paper caps. They do not know that if I was to personally meet the president, I would ask for a piece of land in Taita Taveta County, another one in Juja and three plots in Kajiado County; one in Kitengela, another one in Isinya and the last one in Ilbisil, where I will build a retirement home, just next to the home of Francis Atwoli, the guy who declared Musalia Mudavadi to be a Luhya elder. Who knows? He might declared me a 'maa' elder, amidst his shouts of 'Mushenzi'

The reason I left the political rally early was because the politicians were promising the same old things; that they will deal with the perennial water problems, that they will repair the roads, that they will construct the sewage system, that they will improve security. The most surprising  thing is that the citizens were very happy about the promises. They clapped and ululated with lots of excitement, every time a politician promised something, including paying school fees for their children. It seemed that the more ridiculous the promises were, the happier the people seemed to be.

I decide that if I ever wanted to be a politician, around Kitengela area (I know my chances are slim) I will arm myself with more than enough promises. I will promise to take all the dust in Kitengela to Arusha in Tanzania. I wonder whether Magufuli will accept that, bearing in mind that he is known to be a no nonsense president. I will promise that transportation will be free from Kitengela to Nairobi city during my reign as governor. Ofcourse, this promise will drive a lot of matatu drivers and owners out of jobs if implemented. It is actually a promise which not economically viable and an aspiring governor should not make such a stupid promise, but who cares? politically you thrive on promises, regardless of how rediculous theys are.

Do you want to hear more promises? Ofcourseyou do. I will promise to provide three course meals every day for five years, a promise which is likely to make a lot of peomple very lazy but again, who cares?

I will promise to treat every sick person at AgaKhan hospital but then, wouldn't that make AgaKhan hospital too congested, hence bringing down the quality of services? Is this promise even implementable?

Of course (oops! that word again) you already know that most of these promises are next to impossible to achieve but then, if elected, I will spend the next five years explaining why the promises could not be fulfilled and blame imaginary enemies of development, majorly the leaders of the opposition party for the failure, as I ask for my second term as governor.


YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE: MULALIT- THE GREAT GIANT FROM MWACHON

Wednesday 5 April 2017

MULALIT - THE GREAT GIANT FROM MWACHON

EDWIN KIPTANUI CHIRCHIR edchirchir@yahoo.com edchirchir85@gmail.com

A photo of Tom Tubei, next to the shoe believed to have belonged to Mulalit
 PHOTO CREDIT: TOM TUBEI


When my late grandmother told me a story about giants in the early 1990's, I listened to her with a heightened sense of childhood curiosity. At that time, I was this short, wide eyed kid with a protruding belly (not related to Kwashiorkor folks, I repeat, not kwashiorkor). The story was always told at night, making any child afraid to go out for a short call unaccompanied.

For the rest of my childhood, I was careful about talking to strangers. I was always watching over my shoulder, just in case some one eyed giant with a tail was stalking me.

It was believed that giants were huge one eyed, human like creatures, who ate naughty children for breakfast, lunch and supper.

Of course, later in life, during my teenage years, I started doubting those stories. I dismissed them as nonsense and even laughed them out of my mind. I questioned for example why for some unknown reason, the giants in question never digested the children they ate, which is why after eating so many children, they would eventually be killed by some hero of the clan and the giants stomachs would be slit open, hence leading to the recovery of the all the children the giants had eaten, each of them being safe and sound.

That was until recently, when Tom Tubei, The Communications Director of Baringo County Government, posted some pictures on Facebook,  from The Riftvalley Innovation Centre - Mwachon,near Torongo in Kenya. One of those photos, had a picture of a shoe which was larger than life. A shoe which reminded me of 'Barmuriat' in some class seven text book which I read ages ago. A shoe which if I was to wake up one day and find it on my door step, I would relocate to Northern Uganda. I had no reason to doubt Mr. Tubei, since he taught me English at some point in my life and I turned out alright. Secondly, he had photo evidence. Yes, he was there (on the photo), standing beside the shoe, which belonged to a giant.

He (Tubei) says that the shoe belonged to one Mulalit, a gigantic man from 'Kipkugoi' clan, whose mythical fame was narrated in many forums. It is said  that Mulalit could eat six well  folded or rolled, self - respecting chapatis (Pancakes) at one go. I can only  imagine if one of you female readers here was the wife of Mulalit, cooking would probably have been a full time job. By the way, Mr. Tubei did not mention anything about Mulalit having been a married man, hence I might have to go to Mwachon and ask those questions myself. He (Mulalit, not Tubei) could also carry two sacks of maize on his shoulder without complaining. Did you get that? Two sacks (90 kgs each) ladies and gentlemen, which makes the activities and efforts of those guys who normally go to the gym to chase biceps, seem like a huge and ugly joke.

Another thing which makes me hold Mulalit in high regards is that, it is said he once single handedly pulled out a car that had skidded off the road into a ditch, somewhere in Nerkwo, not far from Torongo in Baringo county. The car is believed to have belonged to one Senior Chief Kiplabat from Kabimoi (Kokwomoi to be precise, since that is the area where I got and lost my milk teeth). Unable to recover his vehicle from the ditch, Kiplabat had decided to go and get a tractor from Kapng'etuny, to pull his car out, only to come back and find that Mulalit had already sorted out the problem.

Now, that helpful character of Mulalit, stepping in to help a man in need is very unlikely of giants, at least according to my grandmother. But I have questions, which is why I would like to go to Mwachon, near Torongo very soon. I want to know whether Mulalit was a married man, whether he left descendants, whether his wife was also a giant. I want to know whether he was violent, whether he fought with people sometimes (of course he would win if that happened). I want to know whether he had political ambitions, whether he lived in a house or a cave and whether ladies had a crush on him (which lady would not like to have such a strong man, huh?)

I would also like to re - introduce tales about giants (especially those who ate naughty children) to my own kids, but there is a problem. Today's kids are a different breed altogether, because they will nullify your narrative with difficult questions. Questions like: Why couldn't the police shoot those giants? Why couldn't the giants be arrested? Why didn't the giants eat you? Why don't we see those giants on T.V? (apparently, T.V now rules their world). And then after all those questions, they will give their final submissions, in a court where they are the witnesses as well as the prosecutors and judges, saying, "unadanganya" (you are lying), then they will conclude by saying you will not go to heaven, before finally sentencing you to one week of buying yoghurt.


YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE: TEA, TRAFFIC AND TANTRUMS