Recently I turned 27 and grew horns almost immediately. I am yet to understand why animals or people who have developed horns are not described as horny (although mostly they are). Living to see one’s twenty seventh birthday is quite an achievement. It means one survived the beatings of their African moms, was bully proof, did not die in the hands of their math teachers, and lived through paraffin doused food of secondary school. These individuals were tough enough to live through the famine of after HELB stage in university and hustled their ways through joblessness that accompanies the power to read. Indeed, anybody who has lived for more than 1431 weeks is a hero by their own rights. That said (or rather written), it is a new year for this author and a new year cannot be complete without resolutions. Talking of resolutions, I only have one; encouraging people to stick to their lanes.
Although I am self declared General of cycling, the lanes for keeping here are different. From this year, I have banned anybody calling me “mtoto”, “kijana” or similar demeaning terms except if they are twice my age. In layman’s language, only those beyond 54 years can refer to me as “kijana”. The rest are people of my age set; either we are all youths or equally adults. The despots, who insist on “childrening” adults must stop, mobilize, organize and be disciplined. Viva!