This is the week that we laid my dad to rest three years ago. It has been solemn the last few days. Thinking of Mzee with a heavy heart made me lethargic. I just wanted to sit alone for long and do nothing. I did that last week. It felt awkward at first but in hindsight, I’m glad I just chilled. Now I know why grave situations in biblical times required folks to wear sackcloths covered in ashes and just sit. It helped to resolve or process deep internal situations. That’s what I did in my hoody and tracks that were ash in colour he he. That’s the closest I’d come to sackcloth covered in ashes. But we are not meant to get stuck there for long.

Last Friday was a surprise public holiday. I decided to go running.  Due to the rain, I’ve not run in the morning for a long time. I met a pal in Karen at 6.30 am and we set out for our run. It was cloudy and cold when we started our 8 km run through the leafy suburb. About two kilometers in it started drizzling. At first, I was upset thinking I didn’t leave my warm bed to come get rained on. But as my friend and I chatted while running we got quite immersed in the conversation and I even started enjoying the drizzle. We finished our run an hour later. We were wet but I felt good. It was such a refreshing run. I also felt like the sorrow from my dad’s loss was lifted or maybe washed away. I was much lighter at the end than I was at the beginning. My heart had lost weight since I had no weight to lose hehe. That’s how I’ve managed to bounce back to living the life my dad would have wanted me to. That run gave me my groove back.

The Good book in Colossians 3 tells us not to shuffle along, eyes on the ground absorbed with things right in front of us. Instead, we should look up and be alert to what is going on around. That’s where the action is. Seeing things from Sir God’s perspective. Folks, there are things in life that will get us down. And it’s okay to be down for a while but sooner we will need to look up and be alert once more for opportunities and blessings to find us. When we look up we see further. A good life is not lived by shuffling around, head and eyes gazing at the ground in front of you. You may notice something of value but it will be much smaller compared to what you’d see if you looked up.

We encountered a vivid example last week. Mummy Shark was driving in town and got caught in traffic. Suddenly one of the women on the streets walked in front of her car appearing to wipe her headlights. She didn’t give it much thought as most of us have experienced them when they wipe our windshields and side mirrors and then ask for money. Of course, we usually don’t ask them to. They just give themselves the job. We could call it paid volunteerism. Not sure if mummy shark gave her money but once traffic opened up she got on her jolly way.

When she got home, we realized the headlamp washer covers were missing. Those tiny covers we don’t notice in most of our cars until they are gone and the holes look ugly. Many motorists have fallen victim to these street thugs. I wonder why those headlamp washer covers go because I see most cars without them. It was annoying, to say the least. When I inquired with the dealer about replacements they told us that they usually don’t come up in the black market for sale often. So where is the demand for them coming from? One wonders.

We could argue that those street folks are driven by poverty to vandalise property. But can’t those guts to thug in broad daylight and just walk away be put to better use? story for another day. I submit that if our focus remains on tiny objects ahead of us then we will never see the entire gari (car) and challenge ourselves to own one. Folks who focus on taking advantage of others as this lady on the streets already have their punishment. They will remain in that state for many days to come and will not experience a higher, abundant level of existence. The same way our headlights are supposed to be washed through that gadget that the lady broke and stole is the same way that her vision will remain foggy through life.

A bigger tragedy could be some of us who own cars but our internal headlamp cleaners are broken. What has impaired your vision? What broken or dead branches are weighing you down and preventing your tree from growing? Is it time to prune the tree or clean our headlamps so that we may travel lighter and see clearer? At least our vision washers can’t be pulled out in traffic. It can only happen when and if we allow others or circumstances to do that. May we seek to keep our vision clear by constantly showering our eyes with jets of good company and positive self-talk and action.

Today was a rant of sorts. I needed to vent after that irritating incident but I hope you catch a lesson hapo ndani. Indulge me kidogo folks. Asante

Share this post:

5 thoughts on “Clean Your Lights”

  1. Sam says:

    Pole to Mummy Shark, perhaps she should get a handsfree device for her phone while in the car:-)

  2. Miriam says:

    Its a healthy rant! Welcome back!

    Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.

    As for the street thug, chuma yake iko motoni 🤭🤭

  3. Bob Onyango says:

    Another Gem. May the good Lord continue to give you comfort in the remembrance of the times spent with dad

  4. Kirigo says:

    I like what Miriam says.Grief is that’s love that accumulates in various spaces of our body and has nowhere to go.May our Lord visit you at such times and make them easier.
    Thanks for the lessons deduced from that experience.

  5. Lilian says:

    Thank you Miriam. I have learnt a new definition of Grief. Love that gathers up inside of us with nowhere to go. It settles in the corner of our eyes, a lump in our throats and a hollow part in our chests.
    It got me thinking that just like those little wipers in the lights that often go unnoticed, let us express love to those that we love even in the tinniest of ways. That once they are gone – like Dad is, we grief knowing we loved them hard.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *