…reviving a dying blog!

*takes a deep breath* hey, how are you doing? I trust that all is well with you this beautiful Sunday afternoon. That is how I begin most of my conversations; of course I change the day accordingly. I never change the line though, cos it gives me time, or rather a text-flow that makes me comfortable. Now that am comfortable, let me align my thoughts. I mentioned in my last post that I have been away from the blogging world for a while and on my return, I noted some changes with some blogs that I have been following. Not most, but some. I was disappointed to realize that some have been killed…am not sure that’s the right phrase for this context but nonetheless I choose to use it. I was going through a personal dry spell of ideas; this is where I get so many different ideas all at once while am busy and when I sit down to jot them down, am blank! Or when I start writing and get through the first paragraph and then nothing…I can neither find my flow nor connect my thoughts to a flow, at least not in the way that make sense. Sometimes I get ideas that I over think till I bury them. It’s a difficult phase and I was determined to get out of it. The question was how…!
For the last two months or so, I have been thinking of how to rekindle my writing fire and I have finally gotten a breakthrough. I started with the basics; i.e. trying to remember why I started blogging in the first place, was it cos I love writing? Or because I love reading? Was it the attention? Or did I simply want a personal platform to express myself? After a lot of thought, I realized it had a lot to do with free Wi-Fi. I was in campus when I started this blog and it was mostly to try and see if I was any good at it (finding thyself). Facebook writing has a way of making you believe in your absent abilities, but I turned out to be better than most. I watch my grammar, I punctuate properly, I flow my ideas in a rhythmical (musical) manner, and sometimes, am downright vulgar (as per my standards). And that is where the answer on how to revive my dying blog lay. I love the feeling of knowing someone out there will read this and smile, or someone will read this and find it helpful but enough of all this. Getting to the point.
I never researched on blogging before I started blogging and that was a mistake. I corrected it and afterwards unfollowed blogs that were followed out of obligation. That was the first step, finding my interest. From here henceforth, I will read and follow blogs that interest me, and if the interest fades, I will unfollow, no compromise. I asked myself…did I read what I wanted, or was I being a dustbin, taking all the crap people threw my way in the name of blogging?
The second step was to engage with my readers. Did I get back to everyone who commented on my posts? Or did I just smile and ignore? Did I follow up on blogs I commented on, or did I hit and run (comment and forget)? That has changed…I want my thoughts to be heard, and for that reason, I should want to read what others have to say about my thoughts.
The third step was to rebrand. Yes, I love how my blog is, serious but entertaining. But there is always room for improvement. I had only two categories, food and uncategorized. Almost all of my articles are uncategorized. Yes, I know…dumb! But with rebranding, that is about to change.
Let me introduce “what do I know about love?” where I will be writing about love. Every one blogs about it, and am gonna join the bandwagon. The most universal feeling in this world and at the same time, the most misunderstood! “I mean business” is another category where I’ll be dissecting the part of my brain that thinks of nothing but money. “…after campus” will be where I tell you of how life is after campus. I started “opinion” and “memoirs” a while back. There is “big and beautiful” which is where I will be writing about my fashion, my music, my movies, my books, my series’, my friends…in short, this will be about my life!
The fourth and final step is appreciating my readers. There are those that have followed my blog and have been patient with me throughout the dry spell period, and there are those who pass by occasionally to see what’s new. There are the new readers who just Googled something and got redirected to followtheriverflow.wordpress and got a peak into my mind; to all of you, I say a heartfelt thank you. Thank you for visiting and thank you for waiting on me. Most of all, thank you for all your support! Tell a friend to tell a friend!

Sharing is caring…tell a friend to tell a friend!


It’s not my fault if my man is a cheater!!

It has been such a long while since I wrote anything on this platform that I almost feel like a stranger. But I heard almost doesn’t count! Let me start by apologising to my faithful readers and followers whom I have been starving for months on end and now that am back, its hopefully for good. I say hopefully cos I hadn’t planned to be away for so long and as such, can’t know whether am done being away. But just because I haven’t been writing don’t mean I haven’t been reading and you guys have been making my weeks with your posts. http://whisperywind.wordpress.com with all its DIY have been marvelous and refreshing, am looking forward to more DIY ideas. And http://darknightwilliams.wordpress.com keeping me emotional and miss pepper’s blog which gives me new insight on sexual partners and generally, sex!
But moving on to why I felt compelled to write today. So, there has been a lot of hype on a post by one Njoki Chege on social media and I finally caved in and visited the blog to see for myself what all the controversy was about. I visited http://njokichege.wordpress.com and her latest piece, titled ‘LADIES: it’s your fault that he is CHEATING’, is the source of all the contention. In it, she states clearly that husbands and boyfriends who cheat should not be blamed and that the blame lies entirely with the women in their lives. She goes on to state the reasons why this is so; starting with my favourite, she states being fat as the key reason. And then goes on to mention nagging, having a poor sense of fashion, and being lazy and boring as the other factors that lead our men to cheat. I shook my head after finishing that post.
One, you being a lady, I don’t think you understand the mindset of a man well enough to speak for him but these are your thoughts and as such, acceptable. What, however, I find not acceptable is blaming the victim for being victimized! As she repeatedly preached that big is not beautiful, I felt I should stand up and object! Am a big girl and a beautiful one at that. Its not the body mass that determines whether one is beautiful or not. But I agree with her when she mentions that inner beauty is overrated, true! But beauty is confidence and confidence is beauty! You could be as skinny as a model with toothpicks for legs, and a face that makes angels envious, but with no confidence, you are worse off than the ‘baby hippo’. No, am not here to fight for weighty people out there, am here to tell Njoki that no, its not my fault that my boyfriend went to a club without me, got so drunk that he forgot where to park his junk. I could have 8 kids and look like mother Africa would look if she got pregnant, heck I could have a tyre so big that it would threaten the future of Yana tyres but never will I blame myself for the actions of a cheater. I have been cheated on before, and I have cheated, and not once did I stop and think ‘its his fault that am cheating…’ Cos let’s be honest, the minute you take that step and undo your pants, your partner ceases to exist. Everyone is responsible for their actions! He didn’t cheat cos she took the kids to eat fries and then swimming when they could have dumped them on the mother-in-law and gone to have a romantic dinner somewhere. I bet they could have done that, and he would still have sexted Sheila.
Its not my fault that my ex boyfriend cheated on me! And its not the next one’s fault if decide to cheat on him. If you are man enough to cheat, be man enough to take responsibilities for your actions!
What nagged me most about that post is that, it reminded me of a situation where a girl gets raped and someone has the audacity to be caught on air (on air!) saying how its the girls’ fault for being raped. Like she walked around with a banner around her neck screaming ‘I WANT TO BE RAPED’!
So, why do men cheat? I don’t have a clue…am a lady! Why did I cheat in the past? Well, sh*t happens…I tripped and fell on top of him. But you won’t catch me saying my boyfriend tripped me!

The campus experience

The friends…that was the best part of campus for me…the bonds that have been created, the company, the memoirs, and the love and ‘hate ‘ felt…that was the best part of campus!



Have you ever had one of those awesome dreams? Yeah, the kind where you wish you didn’t have to wake up and could just sleep on forever? Well that’s what my life kind of feels like right now. It feels like I am in that place, you know, where my life is all good; no stress, no books and even fewer worries. Please don’t wake me up. I want to experience this dream forever.

This is just about how good it feels when you FINALLY get through university, when you finally say a long overdue farewell to campus, books and most importantly, to exams.

“Fare thee well, you exams. You were a worthy challenge, one that kept me up many nights, gave me numerous headaches, always disappointed, rarely rewarded and an overall pain in the ass. You will not be missed.”


Every graduate-elect

As with every journey and…

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Go Red Crazy!

This being my first post this year, i guess i should start by wishing my readers happy new year, or should it be happy old year, since the first month is already down. I hope you all had a fantastic first month and for those of us who didn’t, lets hope that the rest of it would be somewhat kinder. Mine wasn’t so bad, although it didn’t go as i had thought it would, but then again, what does? But enough about that.

I have been going through a not-so-easy time and that is why i haven’t written for so long. That and also the fact that my network connection had a problem with my laptop. Or something along those lines, am not gonna pretend to be a tech savvy chick. To all my Manchester united readers, take heart, Arsenal was there for eight years and their patience is finally paying off so, hold on tight, the worst might still be on its way. And speaking of the worst, valentine is around the corner, more or less. The streets are starting to turn a red shade and its still weeks away, and to top that off, couples are starting to appear from all corners. Today i took a walk around campus and it felt like it has become a crime for anyone to walk alone. I didn’t get that memo! And PDA has taken the front seat, almost puked like four times before i decided to terminate the walk idea. It’s like a bug has bitten and bitten hard, although that seem to have skipped me too. Smh!

Am not a valentine hater. But am not what i would call a lover either. I would never be confused for St. Valentine or anything like that. I think the only part i like about the whole business is the color ‘red’ business. Its an amazing transformation. Overnight, everything goes from being dull and normal to red and….red! It’s like a Christmas but instead of snow, its red! The hawkers also keep up with the calendar, and decide that since its valentines, who would like to buy any other color beside red? and they go red crazy! From belts to shoes to plums and apples, some even start hawking meat just because it is red. I have nothing against red, i have a red belt and two pairs of earrings to prove it, but i feel valentine kinda stretches red to the limit. I bet if it were alive, it would sit in a corner as from January and cry everyday of every hour just thinking of the upcoming month, and then after Feb, or rather, after 14th, it would go on a holiday to Jamaica or the Caribbean  just to recover till December! That has to be my stupid thought of the day so just roll with it 🙂 .

Well, come Feb 14th, nothing much will be happening in my corner. I had thought it would be different this year but it would seem that i counted my chicks before the eggs hatch, turns out the eggs i held were Easter eggs! I had not imagined flowers or chocolate or anything like that, but i had thought it would play out differently from the past valentines. Somehow, i feel cheated. But then again, i hear valentine is about celebrating love because some priest died for it or something long that line of thought (yes, i could Google and confirm but i won’t! its too much work and also because i think dying for love is quite funny…haha funny!) but yes, its about celebrating love, and i have also heard that it is quite specific about the type of love that is to be celebrated but because am a bad-ass, i will choose to celebrate love in general. So in that spirit, am planning to wear a green velvet dress (or drab) because i love nature and i want it (nature) to know that someone cares about it and its color. And also cos I need a reason to wear that dress. Its really hideous! 

But for the rest of you main-streamers, am sure photos of flowers, chocolates and teddy bears will be flooding my homepages on social media but because i don’t want to gorge my eyes out and shoot them, am going to avoid that tirade of red crazy and go catch a movie or something. Besides, the one person who might have convinced me otherwise is in the neighboring country and will be there for the next four or three months. Long after red has gone on holiday!

Happy Valentines people! Go red crazy!



down memory lane

Am not a good story-teller and truth be said, i don’t even know any stories that are worth repeating. Am a 90’s kid, that makes my generation the last to sit around a fire and listen to grandmothers tell tales so old they sound like myths. I remember those days, i was around 4 or 5 years old, running around with my cousins, whom i thought were my brothers and sisters because that’s how we were raised. Back then, when someone got a kid, the family contributed to that child’s growth in one way or another. And i am digressing. Anyways, we would run around half-naked in pure bliss, having not a care in the world, chasing grasshoppers and just being young. We would tire of grasshoppers and play hide and seek, African version, which was and still is way cooler than hiding under the bed! But the best part of the day had to be the evenings. When we would all crowd our grandmothers kitchen, and sit around the fire, cramming ourselves together, and closer to my grandmother, who would be seated patiently waiting for us to be quiet. And then when we all settled, she would start weaving the tale. Tales of when she was young, of how she followed her brothers to the forest, of how her father was a great man and who on certain occasions, transformed to a warrior. We sat and listened, never interrupting, until some dozed off and had to be carried (more like dragged) to bed. And the last of us, we listened to her voice drone on and on, and we traveled with her to when she was young, and the fire would die, and we would cram even closer, and the source of light, koroboi (a small lamp), would flicker this way and that way. In my head, there would only be the flickering light accompanied by my granny’s voice, and that,s how i would drift off to bed, literally drift to my bed. My grandmother had a lot of rules for us to adhere to, and her rules were law in that compound. You don,t forget a law! Not hers anyways, and if you find yourself stuck in a situation where you had to break one, well, you don’t! And that’s why we were never carried to bed, it was a rule! You slept where you dozed off!
I am named after her and spent half my childhood with her, it’s right to say she raised me. Almost all the memories i have of my childhood, whether bad or good, have my grandmother in the background. And so a part of me always assumed that one day, i would have my grand kids sit by a fire and i would tell them tales of my grandmother. Back then, when i sat by her feet and rocked to her voice, i imagined that i would be seated in that chair and kids would rock to the gentle hum that would be my voice, but that will never be.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, the world changed, as it does everyday! My world changed and i changed with it. My evenings with my grandmother were replaced by “Like sands through the hourglass….so are the Days of our Lives” even before i was old enough to save the tales and sift through them. Even before i could test whether i would be as good a story-teller as her, phones hit the market and that was the end of that era. Technology took over!
My granny has gotten too old, and i guess life hasn’t been too kind either. Where once there were kids at her feet, now she gets surrounded by dirty dishes. Last time i went to see her i thought ‘Cucu has changed’! But in reality, she hasn’t. The world has changed and she has witnessed the change but has refused to conform to it! She is still the same woman who would start with her stories right after supper. The only difference is the content. Gone are the days we skipped in our imaginations to be with her in her tales. Now she laments about the change. About the phones ringing too loud and interrupting her line of thought, about the amount of time i spend on my phone rather than talk to her. About how machines are making us girls too lazy, and about how, in future, she would not be surprised if girls started paying dowry to the boy’s parents.
Most of the time i smile at her, profile my phone to silent and keep it aside, explain to her how Indian girls are already paying dowry when they are getting a husband, and think ‘life has made her bitter’. But has it? she is still the same woman who raised me. Yes, she is old and in a lot of pain related to age, but her gait has not faltered and her mind is still as sharp as i remember it to be back then. She will repeat a story more than thrice and still punctuate it the same way. Her memory is that intact!
I may not have gotten the opportunity to tell stories to kids who have teary eyes because of the smoke from the fire, which chokes them to sleep, but i do get to tell my stories…here…we just call it blogging now!

Oh Look, A Flying F**k!

This has been a very confusing week for me. So confusing, that i do not have any recollection of being sober this week; so yeah, i can officially say i know how people get hooked on drugs. Am not one of those people who spill guts out when their lives are falling apart. Am one of those who conspire, or rather aid, life when it decides to mess me. So when life decides that i have been having too much sugar and cream and decides to throw in lemons, it finds that i already have a vodka, asking ‘when are we doing this thing?’ So yeah, it is kind of hard to help me till i say i decide i need it. And i never do, that’s just me. Notice the many I’s there!

Anyways, this week has been one of those weeks! Usually, when am going through a rough patch, i use up good memories that i have saved up over-time to get through it. Sometimes it works, and sometimes, it doesn’t. When it doesn’t, i visit a liquor store, and a peddler, then sit in a corner and wait for life to come screw me over. But the best part is always seeing the look on life’s face when it approaches and you flash that “started the party without you” grin! It might not be worth it, but it definitely feels good. So, yes, i have been in a rather destructive mood lately, and no, its not because of boys, or school…..maybe a little about school…but its all been rather idiotic!

I believe that if i were to start over, i should do so with a clean slate. Some people have been known to shave their hair as a way of starting over but let me state, am not among those people so my hair stays intact. Some become ‘saved’, the meaning has become too loose nowadays and hence the quotes; some actually find Jesus, i mean the Mexican one (no offense to those who find the real one). Others turn to new experiences; new lovers; new jobs and others move to new places. I never get why moving is usually associated with a ‘clean slate’.

The meaning of ‘clean slate’ as Google knows it, is ‘an opportunity to start over without prejudice’. Mine is more or less the same, the difference is i how i take it. Usually, when i hear of the phrase clean slate, the picture that comes to mind is a dirty plate that gets cleaned, so clean, you see a reflection. When it comes to life, what i get is that you have to damage it completely, so that when you do change, the memory of your lowest point would serve to remind you how low you can get. And you work your a**e off to make sure you never get back to that corner there again. So, that’s what am doing. Am deliberately working on destroying the little sanity that’s left in me so that i will appreciate the little sanity i will gather in my state of insanity. So that, when i do come out of my shell for some fresh air, i will really know the difference and appreciate it even more.

Is there an easier and maybe better way? Probably! I could talk to someone and listen to what they have to say, but to be honest, there,s nothing that anyone can say right now that i haven,t already told myself! Yes, i am that smart! Lol! But if i am not ready to listen to myself, i am definitely not ready to listen to anyone else! And besides, who doesn’t like a challenge? I don’t do “Easy”! So i choose this path, and i will follow it to the end because this is all i know. This is who i am. If you have an issue with that, the photo below is specially for you…..unless it’s you mum!

The Right Words!

“……baby if i told you the right words, uuhh at the right time, you’d be mine…..” that is the song that’s going through my head. Right now am in a situation where am wondering whether it would have made a difference had i expressed myself differently. Whether if i had said the right words, my situation would be different. If i had a second chance or if i got a time machine and traveled back in time, would i do anything different? Would i seize the moment and say all the things that i have bottled up inside? Probably not.. methinks i wouldn’t do nor say anything different. 

I keep thinking that if i actually said the words “i need you” or “i love you” or even “i don’t want you to go” once, just once, i wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. But then if i did say the words, that wouldn’t have been me. You see, am too proud to actually come out and say such to a fellow breathing person, because then, it would mean that another person would have gotten under my skin to the point where i was ready to admit it to myself and to the said person, which might happen but i would never admit. The thing is, the ‘might’ turned into a reality and a person did get under my skin. I wish i could say ‘it just happened’ or that ‘i did not see it coming and it caught me completely off guard’ but it did not. It didn’t sneak up on me while i wasn’t looking. No, i saw it coming. At first, it was like when a train leaves a station, slow….so slow that you could chase and climb aboard, or jump off. That should have been my cue to get off but no, i didn’t. I stayed and watched as it gradually gained speed. While in the past my mind would have wandered when my head lay on his chest, i started to focus on the heartbeat in my ear and i would let that sooth me. While his kiss felt weird and awkward at first, i learned how to mould my lips to his. While my eyes focused on everything but him in the beginning, i started to drink in his sight and memorize his features for when he wasn’t with me. The creepy smelling of my hair got sensual. His lazy stare over me turned me on, and i cherished his secret glances when he thought i wasn’t paying attention.

I watched it all grow and in every step of the way i kept thinking, i should say something. Let him know how i feel. Let him know he wasn’t alone in it. That even when i said nothing, i thought and felt everything. But still i kept mum! How did i expect him to know? Well, i found songs with lyrics that said everything i wanted to say and sat with him while we listened. i thought that he would take that as a sign…he didn’t! I thought ‘there’s no way he could miss this message’ and to reduce chances of him missing it, i replayed such songs endlessly and exclaimed how much i loved the lyrics and how the came from the heart. But as the current situation sinks in, i realize just how wrong i was for thinking that just because i played a song that went on like “….stay with me, baby stay with me….”, he got the message. He missed the message and when the time came for me to ‘speak’, i smiled, picked up a blunt and asked, ”shall we?”

Now that he is gone, i am left here, listening to the songs and wondering why he isn’t seated beside me, and am thinking, ‘if only i had said the right words….’


P.S i wish you were here!