Positive Quote For Today

"The only way that we can live, is if we grow. The only way that we can grow is if we change. The only way that we can change is if we learn. The only way we can learn is if we are exposed. And the only way that we can become exposed is if we throw ourselves out into the open. Do it. Throw yourself."— C. JoyBell C.

A Farmhand Who Drank a Lot

With permission, I have extracted this picture-quote from the blog of Marinela Reka. All rights reserved worldwide.

Around October 2018, my family employed a farmhand called Wambugu. He was dutiful and submissive in his first days here at home. And none of us knew he had a drinking problem till my Dad found him heavily intoxicated by the roadside one Saturday afternoon in 2018. Dad had to request someone to help him carry Wambugu back to our homestead.

Wambugu continued with his drinking as if there was no tomorrow. And since he was the only farmhand at home back in 2018, whenever he drank, we would have no one to cook and look after the sheep and poultry that we rear. The inconvenience that Wambugu put us through forced Dad to give him the marching orders.

The morning in 2018 when Wambugu was laid off, he appeared crestfallen. He spoke to Dad of how he had come to feel at home here in Kiserian. But anyway, he obeyed Dad and left home with his small collection of belongings.

Last year when we were in need of a worker after my family began employing two farmhands, Mum phoned Wambugu and inquired from him whether he still had a drinking problem. When Wambugu told her that he had stopped drinking, Mum asked him if he could come back home and work for us. He quickly agreed to come.

Personally, I was opposed to my parents' decision to re-employ Wambugu because I sensed he could still be addicted to the bottle. But since I wasn't the one paying him for his services, I didn't object that much to his coming back.

Wambugu reported back at home around September last year. He was still as dutiful and submissive as he used to be in 2018. And he hadn't lost his culinary skills, especially cooking chapatis and lentils stew, my favorite dish.

But as I had suspected, Wambugu still had a fondness for the bottle. Whenever he got hold of his salary, he would rush to the pub for a drink without caring about losing his job again as he did in 2018. Sometimes when I went to my hometown of Kiserian for my evening exercises, I would find him lying by the roadside as drunk as a skunk.

Besides making him forget his troubles, alcohol loosened Wambugu's tongue. Often when he came home drunk, he would enter into our mansion and engage Mum in a spirited conversation. Mum used to delight in such conversations. She would tease him that he didn't have decent clothes to wear, for he was spending all his salary on alcohol.

The good thing about Wambugu was that he never turned violent and disorderly after drinking heavily. He would talk much, yes, but he had none of those violent outbursts that I have observed in some alcoholics.

As you would expect, Wambugu would be unable to carry out his work at home after his drinking spree. Luckily, we had another farmhand who took over his duties when he was too drank to do anything.

Although I never heard Wambugu complain of having terrible hangovers the mornings after his drinking spree, I could tell from the way he kept to himself in his room that he was having such hangover symptoms as nausea and headache. One such morning a while back, our other farmhand reported to us that Wambugu had vomited in his room, something that made me not want to ask Wambugu to cook our lunch that day.

Despite his addiction to alcohol, Wambugu was well-liked by my Mum and Dad. Mum used to tell her physiotherapist that Wambugu was so honest that he couldn't take anyone else's property without permission. She would defend him that he was drinking because he had no parents. And Dad took a liking to him because he was submissive and creative in his work.

As for me, I confess that I disliked Wambugu. I would feel bad whenever he absconded from his duties and went drinking, sometimes coming back home as late as 11p.m. My dislike for him would make me pester my parents that they give him the marching orders again, citing that his heavy drinking could cause him serious health problems.

Later on when it dawned on me that Wambugu was always kind to me, I began to change my negative attitude towards him. But whenever he drank too much, I would feel myself hating him again. I was stuck in a cycle of hating him for his heavy drinking and then liking him for his politeness.

Earlier last week, Wambugu called my Dad aside and informed him that he would leave our home on Friday, apparently after landing a better-paying job elsewhere. True to his word, he left home on Friday evening. And before leaving, he placed in our living room a book that he had found here at home. His leaving the book made me think he was actually the honest fellow Mum purported him to be.

When Wambugu left home last Friday entirely of his own volition, I somewhat missed him. I repented for having hated him, and I was glad that I never revealed to him how I disliked him at times. In almost all the instances I interacted with him, I was as courteous to him as he was to me.

Wambugu was one bright chap. It's only that alcohol got the better of him. I wonder what would have become of him had he been brought up by education-conscious parents. He would have been such a star in school that he would have been sought after by such renowned universities as MIT, Yale and Harvard.

Anyway, I am glad Wambugu crossed my life. Staying with him has made me more tolerant of those who are different from me. It has also opened my eyes to how alcoholism is as real as the Bible says it is. I now agree with the Bible when it says in the book of Proverbs that "wine is a mocker, strong drink is a brawler, and whoever is led astray by it is not wise." Adieu!

RECOMMENDATION: If you've enjoyed this story on a farmhand who drank a lot, you might also enjoy another one on "How Alcoholism Can Ruin" that I wrote sometime back. Just click on that link in blue to dive straight into the story.


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Pursuing My Dream Job

With permission, I have extracted this picture-quote from Alamy.com. All rights reserved worldwide.

I always go jogging and walking to my hometown of Kiserian at around 5.00pm every evening, come rain or shine. During those trips to Kiserian, I usually observe ordinary folks run their businesses by the roadside. They sell household items and such mouth-watering foodstuffs as chips, chapattis, mandazi, fried fish, roasted maize and mutura (meat sausage).

While in Kiserian, I also see hawkers who sell their items on foot. They hawk such mundane items as shoes, watches and sandals. Sometime back, I spotted a clever young man who was hawking bananas while carrying a loudspeaker that repeatedly voiced in Swahili, "Please promote my business. Buy my bananas so that I don't steal from anyone..."

Unlike those hawkers who sell their items on foot, some ordinary folks in Kiserian are fortunate enough to own motorbikes on which they carry out their business. I always see most of the motorbike riders, known locally as bodaboda, idling by the roadside while waiting for passengers. And the bodaboda business seems to be lucrative because almost every young man I know in Kiserian is now a bodaboda rider.

Other ordinary folks in Kiserian are even more fortunate to own cars which they use either to carry goods and passengers or to sell their items. Just last Saturday, I passed by a minivan whose owner had placed a loudspeaker that advertised what was on sale in the minivan. The loudspeaker boomed, "Carrot, nyanya (tomatoes), cabbages, viazi (potatoes)..." And it would keep repeating the vegetables on sale in the minivan in a bid to woo customers.

You know what? Whenever I observe those ordinary folks and the businesses they do - from roasting maize to hawking sandals, from carrying passengers to selling vegetables - I often think that I am just like them. In the same way they have opened businesses, I have also set up this blog to market my talents in writing and singing. And in the same way they desire to have customers buy their goods and services, I also long to have people flock to this blog.

I am always delighted when people from the four corners of the world visit this blog and read the stories I share here. They fill me with joy not only because I get to earn some money from the adverts on this blog but also because I feel valued. It is like what Mahatma Gandhi said:
A customer is the most important visitor in our premises. He is not dependent on us, we are dependent on him. He is not an interruption in our work, he is the purpose of it. He is not an outsider in our business, he is part of it. We are not doing him a favor by serving him. He is doing us a favor by giving us an opportunity to do so.
Perhaps the only difference between me and the ordinary folks I see sell items by the roadside is that my blogging job requires more skill. I am sure some of my blog readers assume that writing is like gossiping in the market. How mistaken they are! Writing requires effort, practice and a rich fund of knowledge. I have to confess that in spite of all the writing I have been doing for the past six years, I am still not as great at writing as Maya Angelou was.

Another possible difference between me and the ordinary businessmen I see in Kiserian could be that I get a better job satisfaction from blogging than they do from selling items by the roadside. Yes, I do find satisfaction from blogging. Whenever I post on this blog a story that I think is riveting, I feel high in spirits, the kind of emotional high that alcoholics get after downing several glasses of liquor.

Although it is taking me longer for me to earn decent money from the adverts on this blog, I still love blogging due to the joy I derive from crafting a captivating story. That's why blogging is my dream job. I will continue pursuing it till I become an international success like my literary hero, the late Maya Angelou.

My beloved reader, I beseech you to be sending me your feedback on the stories and videos I share on this blog. I also beseech you to tell your friends about my blog and share the links of my blog posts on your social media accounts. Promote my blog so that I don't steal from anyone. That's all I am requesting from you. Have a nice day!

RECOMMENDATION: If you've enjoyed this story about me pursuing my dream job, you might also enjoy another one on "The Careers I Will Pursue" that I wrote more than three years ago. Just click on that link in blue to dive straight into the story.


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