MY AFRICAN CLOCK

This article is in code mixed writing.

I'm happy I did it

THE LESSON IS IN THE WORK

My child,

This African clock should not scare you at all. Whatever part Africa you are from, you will second with me that everyone’s timing is different. Are you even sure your watch has the correct timing? Or you rely on the city clock placed at the round about? Any who have you ever felt as if people come into your life to drown your voice by consuming your time?In fact from my observable seat, Africans have made it quite obvious for me to know that they will pull you down, they will press pause in their lives to play yours but in a negative perspective. Before I begin, I am not making any comebacks or justify my pretty self, I gave my word to my elder brother I wouldn't. I am too bright and ignorant for that. Probably I am.

As a candle that blows off, so will mine. Before I leave I am looking forward to have completed what God sent me to do. I mean, it would way more easier for me to find a scroll under some mud and a manual for me to have completed these tasks. Unfortunately, there isn't any. Boohoo. So the lesson is in the work eee? My child, there was once when time was so obedient to me. On a vacation I spent while waiting for me to finalize my first year in campus. During this time, I was not able to go the village because it was not meant to be, so I critically thought to continue with my small humbles that would soon keep some Benjamin’s in my account. I worked effortlessly because my drive is undeniable and atafutaaye hachoki, akichoka ashapata. As I worked , my fingers could not stop writing till at around 8 p.m, I got to meet incredible people, I learnt new things, my knowledge grew, my abilities where sharpened to the point that whenever I prayed to God to thank him and ask him, my heart felt certainly assure that more is come than what has gone.

So far, so dramatically bitter, time began to be a cruel master. Things begun to be as if I was in some Telemundo soap actress, the ‘Teresa’ and ‘Two sides of Anna’ type of mediocre of having an intimate affair with the tenant, who has a fiancée and brother. As you know I'm that type of African lady, that never finds it expensive to mind my own business. Isn't ignorance bliss? And bliss hurt me; it made me know that people like to talk because they do not know what to say. And what did I do when this soap began without anyone telling me I was the main character?

  1. I composed myself and listened so keenly. There was no time for me to bark back and immediately shout no. The smitten lies of me timing for the tenant at night was very laughable in my heart. It showed me how much they did not have any skills of forming stories about me. We all know even though you are my blood, my time is precious, so me timing he he… spare me the explanation.

  1. I was denied a week to go to work and therefore wasted petroleum to go my aunts place and then while we were there. The accusing finger decided to throw stones and say, ‘Najipendekeza kwa fundi wa umeme,wa nguo and now the tenant was my boyfriend and at school I use my body to get drinks to get drinks form men. It was as if I have never studied in a mixed school. And I was like, “You better be kidding me cause I have been in school for half the year and I don’t know which Paulina had the time to do such things but is all cool” Pity my African body but that is where my line was crossed. These African story tellers are fascinating. I told my aunt the truth and I was to stay at her home until further notice but I denied. I denied because, if I would stay, my time was running and I was willingly to go home and sleep in my bed that rarely cuddles me.

  1. Grudges are so heavy I cannot carry. My child it is said that the foundation of love begins with she who gives us all life when my mother told me that she hated me, that whenever I come home she hates my presence among all siblings - My emotional immune at that moment was not shaken. I was asked myself, ‘Then why ask for a child?’ You see how ungrateful African can be?’ I am not a prostitute as she said but I am going to pretend her loose tongue did not say so for It does not matter what anyone has labeled you. You are more than a label; reach out for your greatness< Chris Kirubi. I shed some few tears in my bed thanking God again for there is no list he has given me when I came to earth of so and so shall LOVE HATE you. Surely I had to be honest to myself. This was not some Maya Angelou exaggerated tales of her mother telling her to be the best prostitute. (I know why the caged bird sings)<Go read.

BEAUTIFUL MISTAKES

My child, I will be as truthful as ever. Even when the truth was known, no one bothered to apologize. Matters were worse when I don’t know centuries of letters of my apologies were released. So now, my past was used to haunt me. Ghai, Kwani it was judgment day and no one told me about it? I could be prepared myself. I don’t even remember when I wrote those letters. I am that forgetful or maybe I am just so occupied with greater things in my life. Neither the mistakes too. It reminded me when I was in high school and as the prefect students would write a letter of an apology and I would forgive and tear them. Life went on. Bado, my child, pain is felt when you are compared with your sister. Honestly, it was just the beginning of the year and already… lawama mimi sitaki/I do not want blame.But because the letters were by me, a pink file should be bought – I like my stuff kept well you know. I insist.Wink.

Waa lenyewe, those were my sorry letters that I was made to write whenever I owned up for sake of I don’t even remember what. Hold up! Do you just see that word I used OWNED UP. My mistakes made me smile. Not the smile I fake when I know how the traffic police at Morocco can be annoying. The smile that made me realize this African clock has a loud tick tock. The smile that make me know I will make so many mistake yet I will be fine.

It is easy for people to rub your mistake on your face than it is for them to reconcile themselves with the person you have become today.

The lesson is in the work. The various works I have showed me very many things. I have never seen stupidity that reached the scum of a bucket. In the work is where now I have separated the chaff from the waft. It is easier for people to remind you of your colorful past, to keep bringing to life those skeletons and keep reminding you what you sis or did not do years ago than for them to acknowledge your journey and how far you’ve come. See this is the thing about the past. If you keep hiding it, brushing it under the carpet, stashing it under the bed, locking it up in the drawer. Own up as I always do. Even when you do they will always be mugging you with fake tales and they will dehumanize you so that you feel wanted, ‘Oh we knew Paulina when she was still… blah… huyo tunamjua’’ Even when you haven’t seen them for years. I mean, kama kuna kosa, nilieleze kilichokusibu instead if holding me captive and refusing me to go back to school.

  1. ﬞuthekio t˜i kwendwo – To be smiled at does not mean to be loved. As I work, I keep that in mind. I know, when they clap as you make your way, they are not applauding. So whether you are compared when you make a mistake, own up like me. It frees you. It saves you time. It disarms your enemies with cheap threats not to be empty because now they have nothing to use against you.

This has taught me they will never stop talking about me. Either good or bad. It’s quite a memorable February. It shall be forever be a blunt start to remember in this journey. The comparison as if I'm competing, the useless judging about my beautiful body,the intimidation to drown my voice simply because of forcing myself to live my jewel. The century of primary letters, the money I use to do my hair – my savings. Any who I have nothing to lose, since I have nothing to fear, let alone anyone.

My child, it’s enough before I am judged yet this my daily bread. I have to encourage you to start owning that past. Laugh at your past and move on. When you were small you had no tattoo as now. And I glad they like it.As I hear the rhythm of my African clock, I am slowly preparing myself, since it not the same as my brothers, my boss, my sisters, my Russian boyfriend, my ‘fellow celebs’ ,my sweet cat sushi, my Canadian best friend, my uncle. It is mine alone. It is not the same. Simple. So at the long run, I have been through a dungeon for this tale to bother me. The period of 2012-2015 was a true dungeon to rather allow me to set fire in the rain. That period charged me and jumpstarted an unawakened part of me. It is why my child they have never seen me throw tantrums’ like a spoilt teen when I am angry.

I owned up but most importantly, I forgave because it is the only way to forget and at some savage point it was pity that drove me to let it go. I mean which human has a way of saying this words as an apology to me, What has passed has passed…eee masomo mema and safe journey. Pride. Smh. Woo! That was the apology and I am looking forward for a better life my child. That is why I straining eyes and fingers to write and stretch myself. I do not repeat mistakes of the past. Because I know better and I do better to live better. That is why it is called a

The lesson is the work, ask anyone my child the lessons they have. It is not like Rapunzel. Don’t keep replaying those events in your head like a broken record. It is over. It’s forgiven by me. I am a small 19 year old writing too much till these international foundations know me. I forgive but I do not forget the lesson.I am keen to know the difference.

Women should learn in all silence and humility < I Timothy 2:11. In all humility, I tried to talk with my mother but she denied. Trust me, she refused. Okay, so what are the duties of a mother? Even when my boss said I try again, she denied. Oh bless the time I tried not once but twice and never again. Pray you never waste my time. Pray you do not waste my time if you are reading this and you walked into my life – for when you waste my time, I will gladly help you waste yours.

I loved you even at your darkest < Romans 5:8. God loves me just the way I am. I pray I go to church even shockingly when my mother says I do not go to church, maybe I am invisible when I am in the car with her. My child, even when they hate, it cause you are working. When you are working tirelessly, reading, and sacrificing all the campus Mombasa trips they will talk about you because you are working. When you are bold enough to take steps that no one else is willing to take they will talk idiocracy. Those will happen to you and they will be your dark times. In my dark times, that was when my dad would defend me, and spoil me with anything. But the other dark times, when you are not loved, the good, fair God will love you. He has in stored great and mighty things for you. Just put yourself there.

My African clock is HIS, who has set it differently from others He decides when it stops. The blessings we all have are to be given at his own moment, ila mola ndio anayetoa tena kwa foleni hata kama niko nyuma, atatoa lazima so there is no need to hate me or not eat cause of me or compare me to pierce my heart. Even if you do, I will never stop treating you with my manners. Perseverance, gratitude, respect, prayer my child don’t forget those.

My gratitude to my Jewel,my sister. If it were other sisters they would be jealous and kill themselves whenever they are compared but not for me. I have found it the best way to pass this message to the whole world by my unconditional love. I am grateful for allowing me to start small for me to build an empire with my Bossette Mrs. Nancy. It will never be possible to forget how everything I once prayed for is slowly coming to a reality and every single day I thank God for sending you all in my active life. Though you will second with me that I do not disturb. Thank you. God bless you abundantly.

My big brother, Travor, Come back soon. I miss you. I do not have partner to play tennis with anymore. Thank you for being my shoulder where I seek comfort. Stay by me, because things are getting to its very best. You know very well, I make things big when I am given small.

Focus on the stage. Do you. End.

My name is Atumalye Pauline Bohela and I have a past and I know my blessings even when they grow, and there is going to be this thing about tables, they will turn.

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