My approach to my career is an interesting one. I love my work, and I want to get ahead, but I lack the rat-race mentality required to get me there.Work for me is a passion, something I do from the heart. Which is why when the cow refuses, the cow truly refuses. When I'm good, I do tons of work at a pace that make my boss doubt my humanity. But when I'm low, I can go for days at a time drifting along and getting nothing done. I live to work, but I must first love the life I live. Without that, I'm dead wood.
I once felt that I got into my line of work by fluke, but I now feel that my day job is in my bones and that my skill is intrinsic. I really don't see myself doing anything else. I have toyed with some 'summer jobs' that I wouldn't mind dabbling in, but really, there's no other work I want to do. Which brings me to the how. I enjoy what I do, but not how I do it. I prefer to be free agent, a floating spirit, a consultant. But not for the reasons that others have. For most people, calling your own shots is about earning more money, paying less tax, and kowtowing to no-one but self. For me, it's more about living, truly living, loving the little things, having ham sandwiches for lunch, and spending time with my Little One while she still wants me to.
Children are interesting. In one sense, they never stop asking for things. Hence nightmare shopping trips. Yet in another sense, they ask for very little. See, once we grow up, we forget how to talk like little people. We forget that when your child asks you to hug their teddy bear or kiss their Barbie goodnight, they are asking a far bigger boon than when they wanted you to buy the thing in the first place. For my child, kissing her Barbie goodnight is like me kissing her goodnight. So when I brush her off, she feels rejected, confused, lost, and yes, unloved. All the private schools and pretty dresses in the world do not make up for that.
Seems like a lot to draw from a silly gesture, but I saw it in my baby's eyes when I was too tired to kiss Snowflake. I'd had a long day, working hard, to care for her. So I was peeved when some polar bear doll was brought for my affection, and told her I was too tired to kiss both her and the doll. It wasn't until she asked 'Mummy, are you sad when I talk to you' that I realised how upset she was. She hadn't seen me in hours, and she was, naturally, asking me the senseless questions that children do, and I was answering them in my 'please baby let me be' tone. Until she asked that last question and I sat up sharp. I told her I was sorry, hugged the bear, strained the irritation and tiredness out of my voce and attended to my little girl. Her bright smile was worth a million in overtime.
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Our minister does not sleep
Oh no he doesn’t…
When electrical power goes out
(No sooner than the sun has set)
He has a hand in it
When the fire on the stove
Burns itself out while waiting for flour
He has a stake in it
He finds the time
In his busy schedule
To direct constituency development funds
To develop his constitution
He only rests his eyelids
In broad daylight
Inside parliament
When important bills
Come up for discussion
But even then he is not asleep
Absolutely not...
He still expropriates and appropriates
He taxes while he snores
And spends while he drools
When we all retire
Mheshimiwa goes out
On the prowl
Along Koinange Avenue
Sampling street walkers
To ensure their fitness
For western tourists
Our Mheshimiwa loves the youth
With all his being
Be they boys or be they girls
With them he is generous to a fault
That is why they call him
Baba sukari
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