There's a way out...

I don't think my heart can possibly take the heartbreak that comes with reading another suicide story. They are so many...all around us. But what baffles me is how we still want to bury our heads in the sand and act as though mental illness is not real. Or that it only affects some people. Actually, I'm not sure what angers me more- the fact that we dance around it, or the stigma that surrounds people who say they are depressed and suicidal. 

"Ciku has issues"...

"Peter lost it a long time ago"...

"Eish, I hear mama Mary has been seeing a counselor..."! 

All these things said in hush tonnes, in our gossip corners or worse yet, shared as "prayer requests" among one another. Don't you see how difficult we make it for people who actually need help? How the undertone of our attitudes and conversations discourage them from speaking up?

So obviously I am no expert- just a passionate person who has lost people I've loved and looked up to, because they were too afraid to ask for help. Do you ever wonder about that jamaa or that lady who seems "ok" on the socials but ends up falling off the edge? And you go scrolling through their feed looking for clues, trying to see if they had dropped hints about their struggle and sometimes coming up with nothing. Because we have all become masters of masquerading how we really feel to keep up appearances. We have learned that societal pressure places an expectation on us to portray an image of perfection, and God forbid that anyone detects where the cracks are. 

I have heard it said, "check on your strong friends", but I dare say, "check on all your friends". When you can, sit down and have a cup of tea, take a walk together... connect- really connect. Call them if they are far away. I find that I am able to pick up on certain things by looking into my friends eyes, or hearing their voices. If they're in trouble, it may not be as easy to conceal as a text message or chat that sometimes doesn't quite carry the tone of a conversation. 

Let the people in your life know that they matter. Let them know you care. Let them know you are here. Let's cultivate the art of listening; I mean really truly listening to one another without being quick to offer solutions. Sometimes all it takes is for someone to offload without feeling judged. Job in the Bible had so many afflictions, and his friends came and sat with him. There are times when all you need to do, is sit with someone, or hug them, or just let them cry.

And now to anyone who feels as though they are on the edge of a free fall, please hear me say: nothing is too broken that it cannot be fixed. Not even your heart. I know that the depths of despair offer no hope, no light, no answers, and seemingly no way out. But, there is a way out, and suicide is not it. Don't isolate yourself. Talk to someone. If not your family, or friends, call a counselor, or a pastor. (I'm going to share some contact information at the bottom of this post for a 24/7 counseling call center). 
Listen, you are not alone, and you're not the first to feel like giving up.

Please, please, I beg you- Talk. To. Someone. Do not give up. Don't give in to the voices telling you that there's nothing left for you. If your house is in ruins, by the grace of God you can build it up again. 

From my beating heart, to yours.

Kambua M. 

NISKIZE- 24 hr counseling call center: 0900 620 800

But I'm not ready!

I like to settle in to a good series- helps me unwind when I have some downtime. So, me and mine recently stumbled upon a series called “Anne with an E”. I have to admit, I had completely dismissed it when I first saw it, but to say it blew my mind would be an understatement. You need to watch it. Anyway, this little orphan girl at the age of 13, began to feel unwell, and was shocked when she woke up in the middle of the night, peeked under her bed covers to find that she had gotten her period!! What?! She quickly took her bed sheets and started washing them vigorously and furiously. Her adoptive guardian woken up by the racket went to find out what was going on. The poor girl was frantic, washing, crying. Her guardian tried to tell her that it was ok, it was normal, she was now a woman. And the girl shouted, “But I am not ready to become a woman”! Whoosh.

I completely understood her dilemma funny as it seemed. How shocking it is for a girl to get her period, even when it is anticipated. I remember the confusion, the embarrassment, and how overwhelmed I was. But I also remember that my mom ensured I was adequately equipped with an array of pads and tampons. I also recall our teacher talking to us over and over about getting periods. And I remember how at school the girls who got their periods acquired an unspoken superiority over the others. It was the thing that separated little girls from young ladies. Never mind that we had numerous staining incidents before we learned how to wear the pads right, how often to change them, how to handle the cramps and all else that comes with it. I have been privileged, in more ways than I can count. Truly blessed to say the least.

I am now a grown woman and very aware of things around me, this awareness has led me into knowing that everyone does not have access to things that I may have taken for granted. There are girls who miss school days or completely drop out because they cannot afford sanitary towels. I imagine the stigma they face when they stain their clothes because the cotton wool, pieces of cloth, toilet paper, feathers and all else are not created to handle the menstrual flow of a girl.

Over the last few months I have had several conversations on the socials, about menstruation, and other biological changes that happen to young people but specifically young girls. It has been such an eye opener to hear from teachers sharing the stories they have about students whose esteem drops when they get their period, or those that skip some days of school, not impervious to the fear of staining their clothes. I have heard stories of women looking to give back because all they had growing up, were pieces of a mattress that they would cut up and use. Can you imagine the discomfort and even the risk of infection? I have also heard stories of people who had no clue what to do when they got their period because nobody ever had a conversation with them about it. Girls who thought something was very wrong- an illness or maybe that they had internal bleeding which would lead to death…! *sigh*

(Greg Complement pictures)

As a woman, I see my role and responsibility clearly outlined to talk about these things, and not feel uncomfortable about them. To normalize the conversation for the sake of young girls. If you’re reading this and squirming  a little bit in your seat, don’t worry, you are in good company. Hopefully we can all get to a place where meaningful conversations can be held about menstruation, and no, not in hushed tonnes. Recently, a gentleman say that he is sorry he laughed at girls when he was in Standard 7. Meaning, that this conversation is not just for the girls, but the boys too. I don’t need to tell you, that adolescents collect insults like charms, letting them define and discourage them. I also know that I have a part to play in dignifying our girls by making sanitary towels accessible to them. Arguably, my efforts are just a drop in the ocean, but I see many women mobilizing people to donate pads and such like initiatives. Surely, if we put our heads together, we CAN make a difference, can’t we? Every girl in every corner of the world needs to know that her period, her coming of age, is normal and very healthy.

So as I finish, let me pose this question to you- if  you were given a chance, what would you do to dignify our girls? 

#Alwaysforthegirl #dignifyourgirls

From my heart to yours,

Kambua M.

Dear Mama

Happy Mother’s Day to every mother, for being strong, resilient, and courageous. For every sacrifice you make to ensure that your children get only the best that life can offer.

Happy Mother’s Day to every woman that knows what it’s like to carry another human for 9 months! Putting up with morning sickness, labor, sleepless nights, to bring life.

Happy Mother’s Day to every woman that has chosen to love a child born by another woman; whether by choice or circumstantial- loving children not born of your womb, but your heart. Giving them a chance to love and be loved.

Emmanuel Jambo Photography

Happy Mother’s Day to every woman who has had to deal with the loss of a child or a pregnancy. Even though your nest may still be empty you are a mother too.

Happy Mother’s Day to every waiting woman. Every woman who has waited longingly for it to be their turn. Secretly dealing with the struggles of infertility, negative tests; empty wombs, empty hearts. Happy Mother’s Day because one day God will fill your heart, and your arms. In His time, and His way.

To every mother, one day in a year is barely sufficient to celebrate all that you have done and continue to do.  But please know, that You are honored. You are deeply appreciated. You are dearly loved. ❤️

From my heart to yours,

Kambua M.