I Moved To A New Website!

I am sure you are wondering why I got hyped up for three days then left. I have been working on my new website and it’s a little frustrating. So, I didn’t tell you but I hosted my blog on a custom domain. From today, I’ll only be working on (marianadynasty.com) and (https://lifeinwords2.wordpress.com) will be inactive till forever.

My New Home Only Has One Follower.
Yes, that’s right. I used external hosting – I don’t know the professional terms – and so I was only able to migrate with 29 posts and one follower, WordPress.com. LOL. It seems like I’ll be starting from scratch again and I hope that all the 1.16k of you can join me there (It’s a little lonely). I did try to import all content but WordPress requires me to pay $313. Well! It’s not much, but that’s someone’s annual rent here in Kenya 😂😂😂.

Despite All, I have No Regrets.
At least, with the new site, I can do whatever I want (except to technically migrate with you guys). I also like it that I was able to use my own brand as the domain name and I’m sure there are a lot of features I have not discovered yet.
I don’t have much to write but I love you guys 💕💖 and I hope you’ll move with me to my new blog. If you do not wish to it’s okay, I still have you at heart.



Mama, You Never Taught Me To Love Myself

Not so long ago, I was a small child.
I looked up to you, I tagged along.
Not too long ago, I was a little girl.
And I cried daily over matters of no weight.
Yet, you never showed me your tears,
Whether you cried in litres, jugs or tanks.
Mama, you placed me before your needs.
You never told me to love myself.

Now I am twenty and more, I’m grown
You’re no longer here to wipe my tears.
My heart shouts yet my mouth is shut.
The world has trashed my love,
It was never enough, they said.
They told me to dump your teachings.
That I love less because I don’t love myself.
Mama, come hug me once more.
It seems that your girl needs to grow up again.

Mama, you never told me…
But I’m crying in tanks.
The world won’t take my tears because they are bitter.
They judged me before the could understand me.
You never taught me to love myself,
And now the world has trashed my love.

Mt. Kenya: The Abode of the Gikuyu God.

Mt.Kenya is the tallest mountain in Kenya, standing at 5,199m. It has three peaks;Nellion, Batian and Lenana. My tribe, the Agikuyu, believe that their God, Ngai, resides on this mountain.

The first man and woman, Gikuyu and Mumbi, lived at the foot of the mountain. Its peak can now be seen from as far as the Mwea plains. Did you know that Kenya is not the original name? The area that borders this mountain is called Kirinyaga and so is the name of the mountain but it is said to have been named Kenya by a white man who had a guide from Kambaland. Since the guide could not get all the syllables in the word Kirinyaga right, he said ‘Kíínyaa’ and the name stuck till date.

Why Every African Should Be Rich: Lessons From an African Childhood

There is one unique thing about every person in the dark continent; we all had a Jumanji kind of childhood. Well, if you are in Africa and you have no idea what I’m talking about, it’s either you are a highborn* or you’ve never heard of Jumanji. But come to think of it… Jumanji sounds like an African form of majic like juju or kamútí so… Anyway, back to my little story.

First, let me remind you how childhood was really like while at the same time giving light to my “exotic” readers. (You guys should be in every page of my history book by the way, with many love emojis). As an African child brought up in the now past century, I had the pleasure of making ny own toys. Parents simply could not understand why you need to buy something you can create anyway. We sewed dolls with old clothes, modeled them from clay, made cars with wood and empty matchboxes and beanbags to play with. It would be a hundred and one percent correct to say that every African child is an artist, in their own unique way. We can make everything there is in this world and even the things that have not been made yet.

Apart from making things to play with, we did invent the games as well. I will not lie to you that we tried magic (children magic games in Africa are just clever lies, the professionals are probably in our parliaments right now). However, we invented risky games, like pouring water on hilly surfaces and sliding down on our butts or bare feet. (The legends of the game did not use water). All in all, I was thinking about the risk in all of it. Children do not mind getting their shorts dirty or going home with a probably grazed bum bum. It’s the fun in it that matters.

Photo adopted from Google

Did I tell you that my first book was a the soil under a Jacaranda tree that grew at the centre of my school’s playing field? Well, my teacher thought that it was a waste of resources to scribble my nonsense on a real book so it was a better idea to write on the ground first. No lost pages, no eraser needed and definitely, no pencil required. My fingers learnt to write all the letters before they could teach the pencil to do it! That’s right! You cannot teach what you do not know.

Fast forward the clip to the time, now. My agemates are all above twenty and some of us barely know how to make our beds. I also cannot tell where all the guts to take risks went to. You find my friend, with two degrees and all he wants is a job at the office. He won’t start a business or consider hard jobs. After all, he got all distinctions in his Animal Husbandry class. Before I get to my third point about using available resources and saving, can someone tell me why Stella and Ken are all over the city, club hopping and passing out after whole nights of sheesha and mzinga? Then the next time you find them, they need a small loan of 2k to be paid at the end of the month (most of the time, the payment never happens). I know it’s life and it’s a YOLO thing but we can at least save a little so that we don’t commit suicide when we get to 60. (Oops, sorry let’s erase that). I know it’s life and it’s a YOLO thing but we can at least save a little so that we don’t commit suicide when we get to 60.

The point is, we can remember what we were before, what is in us, the passion, the fire, the determination. We can then apply it today so that we can have a better tomorrow. And well, if you can’t, just become a story teller like me. Trust me, these guys love stories.

Tahidi High Actor Omosh Breaks Into Tears, Says He’s Broke

Kenyan actor and star, Joseph Kinuthia aka Omosh broke into tears in an interview as he explained his current situation. Omosh is known for his comic character in the Kenyan TV drama, Tahidi High and his fourteen-year career in the film industry.

The Tahidi High favorite confessed that he is jobless and that he has a year-long rent arrears when asked how he is doing after the TV drama came to an end. He mentioned that he has been surviving at the mercy of his friends to provide for his family (two wives and five children). “When the Corona Virus started, I had to close all my side hustles. I really thank God for my friends… They have been there for me.” Omosh said amid tears. When asked how it all started, the star could not explain. After all, life never gives you a clear map really; life happens.

Kenyan Tahidi High Actor: Joseph Kinuthia (Omosh)

Omosh states that he was grateful to Tahidi High for giving him a platform to showcase his talent. He also said that he is a very good driver and can also do any small hotel jobs. He is requesting anyone willing to offer him a job to contact him through his number (0727054141).

Comments followed after the interview, with fans emphathizing with him. Most of his followers were tagging known media personalities like Jalang’o and Lulu Hassan to offer him an opportunity on their media platforms. Others, however, criticized his condition stating that with his fame and gift, he could thrive by creating a YouTube channel or by approaching major companies for advertising jobs.

Omosh is not the only one in his condition among the great artists we have in Kenya. We have many living in the same situation after being in the limelight for years. Some blame the government for poor policies, others blame it on their former employees… Others are not even in a position to tell. Kindly let us know what you think about this issue.


The gown that trails behind her feet.
As she walks, through the bushes; clean and neat.
She tints the pearls on the paths, the warning birds tweet.
The city awakes, windows open… Oh here comes the fleet.
The aerodrones circle around her like a thief.

It’s so unfair… This is so unfair!
Say the cleaners as to the bins her filth they clear.
Our backs ache all night and now we live in fear.
We have no wives to soothe our bones to bring cheer..
Yet she trashes our works like we are slaves.

She passes the city and leaves the mouths behind.
And slowly she walks towards the river,
To deep her feet and wash off the filth.
She is an impure gem crossing through the streets.
Yet later she will return…
To collect all that burden their hearts..

Yes, We Are Broken

They said that in the mind of every poet,
There lies depression, broken
They said maybe love never felt or a love despised.
That these weavers of words are shattered wares.
Maybe neglected wives or dishonored husbands.

They say that behind every great writer..
Is a broken past, a trail of pain.
They said writers are lonely and introverted
That our only companions is the ink that doesn’t judge us.
Our only solace is the words that decorate the scrolls
And our sole companion is the pen dancing between the fingers.

Maybe they are right.
It could be that our pain drips out when we write.
The same phrase goes that…
Broken hearts make the sweetest songs.
It is the scrolls that roll away the loneliness we fill.

So cheers to the happy souls!
Cheers to them that sail through worlds..
To read our art and pacify their scrambled minds.
Cheers to the judges who have no souls to pour..
Yet our words bring them calm and joy.
And yes… We are broken…
Like rocks to form the small sand and gravel
To sooth your feet as you walk to your brighter days.
Like tiny piece of diamonds,
Or the cold snow flakes…
And we will write on and on as it keeps us light.
Or how else would you smile knowing that you are right?

Reblog: I Still Love You

It still makes me angry to think of you Sometimes I wonder if you’ve moved on Then I remember all the things you did I can’t believe I ever let you into my life Like an unexpected storm you turned it upside down Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this Love is supposed to be […]

I Still Love You

Emoji/Smiley challenge: Gratitude, Just Comment With an Emoji 😍

Hello, it’s a Saturday again so let’s post the emojis, shall we? Please think through your day, remember that one or a thousand things you were happy about. Feel free to share… After you post your emoji for this Saturday

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