Spare me the agony of writing for you an Eulogy of ‘Hallo Children’ Brisk I remember Tom and Mary, I do not remember if it’s the first book I read, But am pretty sure its not.
Spare me the agony of writing for you an Eulogy of ‘Whispers’ Brisk I remember Mutahi Kagwe (May He Rest in Peace) Though I did not understand what he wrote about- then, I loved the way he played with the vowels.
Spare me the agony of writing for you an Eulogy of ‘I have A dream’ Brisk I remember Martin Luther King Jr, I do remember it was the first speech I ever Read to myself.
Spare me the agony of writing for you an Eulogy of ‘Man talk’ Brisk I remember Oyunga Pala oh…that was just the other day.
This is not a poem nor is it a rhyme piece, this is a story about why I read! Brisk you mistake me for a poet (Which I am)
Most vivid memories of Tom and Mary are stuck with me, I can remember the very d-day the teacher (Mrs Kutwa) made me read in front of the entire class, as you can imagine I was pretty shaken and the experience is worth forgetting, It wasn’t fun, but may a Monalisa smile take to her direction this time of the hour. Because I no longer tuck my pen between my head and my ear but between my thumb and fore finger; I write.
I use to read to get away from the house responsibilities, from family and from nosy friends among other excuses, (My family rocks don’t you dare get ideas).
Reading a newspaper used for packaging small goods from the local shopkeeper was a must, I remember I always asked him to use the whispers page. (Muli still remembers whispers and me up to date) At first it was just for the love of his characters, then it become a daily routine, when the shopkeeper would give me the last days whispers page(Oh my whispers scrap book, then PEV come), it then become apart of me, then it become an addiction! Then it become my Bulls Eye….
From the outskirts of Naivasha town in a research centre (KARI) under a tree, in the middle of the thick forest, in my teenage days, I met my first love, for the written word. It was a speech.
I will not bore you with my teenage love affair with a speech, written in so far away land which by then I had no idea what it meant, I fell in love (You cant blame a man for this now) with the words and not the message, today this time of this hour I will not bore you with the details of a romantic love story between a speech and its readers. But you can indulge!
When I wanted to play for a living(Not that I was good at it, it was the in thing!), my old man wouldn’t allow me, he said I must read for a living, so then I read to please my old man, and insure my future in an eternal bosom of insurance that does not rot.
I read everything I lay my hands on, old newspapers, old books, (I love the classics)everything written dazzles me, and I read, the pleasure of living multiple characters excites me, When I am reading ‘The man’ from ‘Encounters of Africa’ a collection of short stories, I can walk into the palace, I can be the man, I can bypass the crocodiles, the mirrors, the guards and I can kill the dictator, I can be found, I can be killed and no one will ever know its me, and I can still be alive and know and not tell.
I walk around social gatherings and people identify themselves as writers, I ask? Would I be wrong to identify myself as a reader, because that’s what I am; I read, there is a saying in my head right now…
‘There is much sense in what goes in than what comes out!’(Or how do I explain two ears/eyes and one mouth?).
There is condescending of vibrations in us, this condescending of vibrations must come out at some point, and as I guess you wouldn’t like for the condescending of vibrations coming from within you, to exude your ignorance and hollow oblongata thus portraying you as shallow. So I read to stay safe among my peers and foes, to speak knowledge and exhibit a sense of comfort every time I lip to an audience that does not capitates mediocrity.
I need no say more, before I identify myself as a writer I must be a reader, you can not walk before crawling, you can not run before walking!! If they ask me what I do for a living, I say; I read and when am not reading am writing!! I AM A READER BEFORE I AM A WRITER!!!
