Daniel

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 It’s 3 am in the morning and I turned in my sleep, woke up and I can’t sleep anymore. Our dog Tina     ( short for Mutina) is barking relentlessly from right outside my window. She is a mixed dog somewhere between a Dagorreti and Githurai shepherd that is not so aesthetically pleasing. I’m not sure if the situation outside is as dire as she presents it to be or Tina is just being a dramatic bitch especially with her pregnancy. I try to distract myself from imagining an imminent attack so I focus on Tina and how someone needs to introduce her to family planning. Therapy too as she is constantly in between pregnancies, puppy birth and losing puppies at teething stage. Those that survive become everybody’s favorite and she is rejected for as long as they live. Sherlock Holmes in me discovers that Tina might actually be responsible for the death of every dog she ever gave birth to reclaim her throne in this home. 

After 40 seconds that feel like 30 minutes in the dead of the night, I decide to cut Tina some slack. I am tempted to go through my socials but my unsolicited wellness coaches on Instagram would be displeased. The other day I read a quote bashing people for waking up to their phones when they don’t even know whether their legs work. Dramatic much Hellen, I get the point but I only turned to my phone first to see whether God answered my prayer and gave the accounts lecturer chronic diarrhea. I am not ungrateful for life and only checked hoping to see that class was cancelled.  

I digress much but Hellen and her guilt tripping is not the reason I don’t go straight to Instagram. I slept at around 1am after doing a proper tour over there and I know the people there don’t have lashes on at this ungodly hour. No lashes , no fancy photoshoots means nothing to see. I only expect to see stories from a few guys at Dejavu( the entire Nairobi ), one at another popular city pub and two guys sharing sensitive memes that will be gone by sunrise. I have nothing against the posts but I already know they will be blurry, unsteady and with loud toasts over Lojay's Monalisa playing in the background.

I always held people who can’t sleep at night and instead decide to read very highly. This is the one chance life has offered me to join this elite class and so I decide to catch up on Biko’s last blog. I would very well have read the Bible. I find myself reading Daniel’s story only that this time according to Biko, Daniel was picked for an unpaid internship. The story is a vegan rant but it sends me on a tangent of my own.

I think about Daniel, the lions, about religion and about God. I can’t help but wonder if God is mad that I asked Him to strike an innocent man’s bowel. Does he understand that I didn’t know better and still loves me like fathers love even their foolish children? My mind is stuck on Daniel not because of his unarguably good looks but because of his strong conviction. 

I love his story but no so much his personality. Daniel is the guy who gets into a room and triggers your impostor syndrome. I prefer David, a little more gentle on my ego. I want to know who gave Daniel and his perfectly symmetrical face the permission to look as good as he did and have such guts to stand up to anyone. More importantly I want to know how he had such unwavering conviction in what he believed in.

I think about myself and my beliefs. What is this looming fear I have to be as unmovable as Daniel? I’m afro optimist and a strong believer in our excellence in the present as Africans. I know for sure that we are enough and everything we were taught was wrong with us was in fact what was right with us. This does not however mean that I don’t occasionally get ideas that an Ivy League Education wouldn’t do me some good. I would take that king’s meat over the cabbages here without a second thought.

I mentioned that I have been described as a feminist and promised to debunk that. Here’s the thing, there’s nothing to debunk I am indeed one. I believe in the equality of human beings and push for the recognition of women as such equals. What I do find absurd is that there is somebody at the back who is opposed to this and is going crazy that I can even consider recognition as the equal I already am. Save the debates on equality v sameness for another day which I hope comes sooner now that I hope to unleash my inner Daniel on you.

There’s something about these wee hours of the night and vulnerability so I will end the list here hoping you already get the point. I know the year is no longer new but I think I just found out what I want to do in 2022.

I want to channel my inner Daniel. I want to have unwavering conviction in  the things I stand for and unrelenting faith in what I believe in. Everything Daniel including the physical beauty that makes foreign kings want to kidnap you. I’m probably stretching it now but there’s no limit to how much I can manifest. The only thing about Daniel that me and my homegirls come against is that unpaid internship.

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