Big City Lights

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I ask Eddy Kimani what it feels like to be a on a billboard. A big-ass billboard at a roundabout on Uhuru Highway. Or Waiyaki Way. For a month. For everybody, virtually everybody (and this includes guys from Nyahururu, Gilgil and such like neverland places) to study. Matatus and private cars, vans and minibuses, buses and motorbikes full of people looking up at your smiling face on a billboard, because nobody looks sad on a billboard, not even the guys selling antacids. You up on that pedestal with one expression, one outfit, one agenda; a public spectacle, a profile of recognizability and celebrity. Your image is stored in their faces.

 

At night that billboard lights up and is the guiding light of night crawlers, the late-nighters, the ghouls of the night, who look at it in passing. Maybe you are on four of those massive billboards that month, spread out in different parts of the borough.  You are a constant fixture on the cityscape. Then at night you are suited up on prime-time TV reading the news, looking happy, self-assured and debonair, stirring the pots of desire of a few viewers, your beard looking like it regulates the temperature of its own bath. The next morning you are on radio talking sports because that’s what you love most, it is your true north. Over the weekend you are on stage acting, and on commercials talking and selling, and then you are in a tux MCing in those stuffy events that demand that you wear black or gold. You are MCing light years before the phrase “drops mic” became a catchphrase. And so your face is in our faces and up in our grill. We know your name – Eddy Kimani. At some point, that name starts feeling like one consonant, and then a jingle. Your name seems to transcend the noun and starts being a verb, a state of being.

 

“How the hell does that feel?” I ask him.

 

“Popularity and celebrity is a sweet thing,” he reminisces. We are seated so close to each other that I can see the left side of his face doesn’t have the same consistency as the rest of his face, courtesy of the Bell’s Palsy he suffered a few years back.

 

“Don’t forget that during that time I was in the limelight we didn’t have social media, so I was an enigma of sorts. You could only see me on those platforms,” he says. “When I was a newscaster at NTV, the station was the only other private station besides KTN. We were ideally the first crop of new-age anchors after kina Kasavuli. So it felt like we were the chosen ones.”

 

“There was a great deal of adrenaline in going on TV to read news. I loved it,” he continues. “For me it was showtime. I felt charged with adrenaline. It’s a – I don’t know how to describe it -…a high. A sweet place.” He was young then, only in his 20s and 30s. He had money, fame, girls who wanted to eat off his palm and strangers who sent him drinks in bars. Complete strangers on the streets would light up with recognition, waiters would say with a smile, “Sasa Eddy?” when handing him the menu, like they have been buddies forever, watchmen would stick their heads in the car and banter about sports before they opened the gate. In traffic jams, he’d look to the side and see people in the next car staring at him, their mouths moving from behind their window. They would be saying, “Si that’s that guy on TV, Eddy Kimani?” In bars with his other media mates, the room would seem to sway towards their table. He’d get recognised in hospitals, government offices and malls. People would always call him by two names; Eddy Kimani, like you would call Calvin Klein or Ozwald Boateng. He was never really Eddy. Or Kimani. You had to mention both names. You couldn’t do him the disservice of divorcing his names. He wasn’t Eddy if he wasn’t Kimani.

 

“It was also strange at the same time and I didn’t know how to deal with that strangeness,” he adds, “because people somehow assumed you knew them. They approached you with familiarity and you see, much as you didn’t know them, you had to roll with it and act like you knew them. Does that make sense?”

 

I nod even though it makes little sense to me.

 

“What happened was people had formed opinions of who I was. I gradually found myself being pressured to live my life according to their formed ideas.” He smiles. “I found myself with another responsibility, feeding into people’s perception of who they thought I was. I wanted to keep that persona even though it wasn’t mine.”

 

“You play to a gallery…” I mumble.

 

“Yes! So what that means is that you take loans to buy cars and designer suits to maintain a mega lifestyle,” he says. “The fame came at a cost because soon you start thinking that you are this person who is only playing a role. That’s not to say that I wasn’t having fun, oh I was! It’s the other half that I didn’t like. By the way, I think you are really lucky that you are not keen on being out there. I wonder how you decided on that.”

 

“I’m selfish,” I say, “I want to live for myself, in my small world and not in anybody’s world.”

 

So for 12-years he was a man about town. Life was good. No, life was very good. He started dating Nyambura, his current wife, and at some point they started going steady. In 2005, she got pregnant “for him” as they say in those dreadful Tanzanian soaps where the English subtitles are so completely different from what the cast is saying, you could as well be watching a cookery show.

 

“I started off as a bad father,” he says. “At 27, I was at that point where I was resisting responsibility. I was still enjoying this life of a celebrity while also facing this life as a guy with a child and I felt like being a father was intruding in my fun. I didn’t accept that I was now a father and needed to step up. I was always making excuses for not taking responsibility, choosing to engage as a father when it suited me. I couldn’t locate the pulse of my conscience. [I love this] I wanted to have my cake and eat it. I think lots of men find themselves here, where they don’t know how to take charge and be responsible. They don’t know how to handle being first-time fathers.” He pauses. “ Of course this caused constant fights between Nyambura and I.”

 

So their relationship forged ahead like a car with three wheels – a Subaru on three wheels to put it aptly, because there has never been a car that aptly metaphorizes youthful hedonism in this neck of woods. In 2013, they got another baby and then got married. “Marriage for me was like a walk in darkness,” he says. He fumbled through it, feeling his way in the darkness, bumping into wooden things, grabbing at strange objects and realising it’s a blender and thinking, What the hell is a blender doing in my marriage? [He-he.]

 

“I had no manual. Everything I knew about marriage was from seeing how my parents’ marriage was,” he says. “I come from a close knit family, yeah and although my parents’ marriage was not ati the best, it wasn’t also not bad. There were the constant disagreements, but there was never anything overtly over the top. But the thing is, nobody tells you how to be a man. No older man sits you down and guides you on how to be a father, a husband and a man, so you just wing it. I think fathers should guide their sons on how to be men. Otherwise our sons will grow up with their own version of what a man should be and sometimes their version is so removed.”

 

He struggled through his marriage. He was Eddy Kimani the celeb, then he was Eddy Kimani the husband and then he was Eddy Kimani the father and he wanted to feed all these in equal measures. He didn’t know how to juggle the three. Often, the last two suffered. “Nyambura is conservative. She didn’t quite understand why I was out there working late MCing, attending functions and drinking. She didn’t understand how the media works. Her expectations of me were to be there as a husband and a father. She must have also felt that I was kichwa ngumu because of my celebrity status.” He smiles. “This caused constant friction between us.”

 

“Were you drinking then?” I ask.

 

“Oh yeah. Heavily.” He thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, there was heavy drinking involved. It never really got in the way of work though, maybe a few times, but it was never a problem with my job. But then in 2014 I received a call.”

 

“Oh I like stories that begin with a phone call, I say.

 

You always feel like when someone says, “But then one day I received a call” you know that story is taking a tangent. Shit is about to unfold. Even the soundtrack changes. Now it’s some low bassed music, when something is about to jump out of darkness and lick your neck.

 

Anyway, the guy calling was a former chief of staff of Nakuru County. He needed someone to establish a department of Nakuru county. There was still excitement and opportunities in devolution. Although Eddy was newly married and enjoying doing his radio sports show, he  was restless. He’d been restless for a while now, wondering what next thing he could sink his teeth in. “And so I was excited to hear from this guy. I thought this was exactly what I needed.”

 

Only Nyambura said, “Zii!’. Zii for those reading from Zambia means no. I could have just written “no” but that isn’t the same as zii. Zii conveys a refusal in a very Kenyan way. It’s even better if you put “aii,” before the “zii.” That means that there is no way this is happening. Nyambura didn’t say “aii” but she said “zii.” Zii can change into a yes but aii zii is final.

 

“And you would understand why,” Eddy says. “She had a career here in Nairobi, we had children, it seemed unfair to just uproot the whole family and move to Nakuru, disrupting their lives. Oh, the job was also not offering what I was making. So on top of this I was taking a pay cut. I on the other had was very keen to take up this job. It was a chance to do something different, a chance to go serve my county, my people, because I’m a Nakuru boy.”

 

They went back and forth with Nyambura. Deliberations. Eventually she accepted reluctantly. So he packed a bag and

was on his way to Nakuru to take up a government job. His title was Communication Director for Governor and County Government of Nakuru.

 

“Did you have to wear a broken suit?” I ask.

 

He laughs for the first time. “Gava is a different ball game! It’s a 360 degree shift from corporate. Whereas in media I could dress casually, I had to wear suits for all meetings. Then set up a communications department from scratch, alone. I also had to learn the politics that comes with that office, because politics is a huge part of that role. Basically, I was thrown in the deep end and had to find a way of not drowning.”

 

“Did you have an office with those screaming red carpets?” I ask because the things that I’m curious about are very trivial. I’m that person who, when someone is telling an intense story, will ask, “Do you remember the colour of shoes you were wearing?” and people always stop to ask, “What?! Colour of shoes? How is that important?” But it is for me and now that story won’t be complete until I know the colour of shoes they were wearing and if they refuse to tell me it will haunt me for the rest of my life. I will wake up in the middle of the night and think, what if they were blue shoes?

 

But the reason I ask him if he had a red carpeted office is because I never know how anyone – read government officials – can work in an office with those blood red carpets, a cruel democracy of appearance. [Read that phrase in The New Yorker recently.] I would get constant headaches. My mood would always be so murderous. I’d be constantly shouting on the phone and picking fights with people who can’t fight back, like the tea boy and the interns or the lady who delivers fruit salad. I would be so unhappy saying things like, “I have noticed that nowadays you don’t put enough pawpaws in my salad. Why do you do this to me, Mariam? Have I not been anything but kind to you? Have you now joined the opposition to take away my pawpaws?”

 

Eddy says, “Oh no. I didn’t have a red carpeted office, I had a small office with old hand-me down desks.”

 

Oh, shame.

 

Anyway, like any Nairobian, Eddy Kimani had side hustles. He had a mobile advertising business and a photography business back in Nairobi. He closed it down and opened the business in Nakuru.

 

“I was confident that it would work. After all, it was working in Nairobi and Nakuru is not only a small town, it’s my town,” he says. “Shock, the businesses failed. All of them.” Nakuru, it turned out, was a different kettle of fish. “I started taking more loans and opening businesses. Each of them would fail and my debts started piling. My salary had 80% servicing loans to businesses that had already closed. Things started spiraling out of control very quickly.”

 

By this time, he wasn’t even coming back home to see the family often. He wasn’t coming often because he was not pulling his weight as the man of the house. He wasn’t sending money because he was in debt. He couldn’t explain to his wife – who, as the record shows, didn’t exactly do a dance over this Nakuru gava job – that he was broke because he had kept his (failed) businesses a secret from her. As the debts grew bigger the fights became even bigger.

 

“I wasn’t providing. I wasn’t being a man. I was failing as a businessman. I started getting into this dark place, of beating myself up, of self pity, of drinking a lot, of missing important family dates, milestones in my children’s lives, milestones in my wife’s life, I was becoming a stranger to her, day by day and a stranger to myself hour by hour. I got kicked out of my rental twice because I couldn’t pay rent.”

 

“How much was rent?”

 

He chuckles thinking about it. “20K.”

 

“Did you talk to anybody about your situation?”

 

“How could I?” he asks. “I was Eddy Kimani. I hid my problems from everyone because I was ashamed of myself.  I didn’t want people saying, Eddy is broke, he’s asking for help. I was that jamaa from the TV, how could I be broke? I mean, all my ex-schoolmates in Nakuru saw me as Eddy the guy who had made it, amefika. There was no way I was going to ask them for help when they thought I was doing well. I hid my problems well, by drinking a lot. But I want you to mention one guy who stood by me this whole time, without judgement and with great humility and patience. He’s called Allan Githinji.  When I was chased twice from my house, he housed me without question. He had a family of his own but still extended himself and his family to keep housing me. He never judged nor gave up on me. Even when I was finally kicked out of my rental for good, he still took me in.”

 

Staying with Allan wasn’t sustainable, so he did what he had been avoiding all through; moving back home in his mother’s house. From TV, radio and the bright lights of celebrity to knocking on his mother’s door with only his bag as his personal belongings because he had failed. He had failed as a husband, as a father, as a businessman and as a son. Failure had piled up around him like stones around a grave.

 

But you know how mothers are. They will take us back in at our worst as they will at our best. They will give us a bed and a meal. “ I had kept her in the dark like I had kept everybody else – but she never asked me questions when I arrived at her door, beaten by life. Mother’s just know.  She gave me a room and fresh beddings. When I had settled, she prayed for me.”

 

He stood there in the middle of their living room, his mother praying and him, shredded by life, clinging onto a tattered dignity, head bowed before God in humility and failure and self-pity, feeling sordid, completely rotten, his lips trembling with emotions. Eddy’s mom prayed for him and then they ate in silence. Settling back home was horrendous. He was the ridicule of Nakuru, or rather that’s what he felt. He felt like people were talking about him and his failure; Eddy Kimani has failed and is back home to his mother. He felt like people were dancing on his grave. He stayed alone in his room, not leaving, stewing in his thoughts. He entertained thoughts about killing himself. How they would break down the door and find him splayed in bed, having bled to death or choked on his own vomit from taking an assortment of drugs. When he left the house, mostly at dusk, he would go drinking with people who couldn’t judge him. People who didn’t have his backstory. Once in a while someone would say, “Aaaah, wewe ni ule jamaa wa TV” and it would feel like someone had stabbed him in the gut. Celebrity had become his incarceration.

 

Allan kept checking up on him, when he was at his rock bottom. “I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me had Allan not been there for me. I mean, this is a man I met at his restaurant, yet he had become my pillar when I had nothing else,” he says. “It’s very very important for us to check up on our friends, especially if you suspect they are doing badly. Just a phone call is enough to put someone else on a different path. Pick up the phone and call them. Sometimes you can be at a very dark place but just the fact that one person cared enough to call you means everything. It means someone cares.”

 

To avoid the chatter of Nakuru and the embarrassment of being the laughing stock of his town, the prodigal son who came back with nothing, the golden boy of TV who had cashed in his last chip and had no legs to stand on decided to go as far away from Nakuru and its demons as he could. Away from failure. Away from desperation.

 

He moved to Diani.

 

Who the hell would know him there? Who listens to Capital Sports there? He was like a man on the lam. A man on a witness protection program, albeit with his own name. His name, Eddy Kimani, once worth more than a bagful of silver, was now a chain and ball, a skin he wanted to remove and leave hanging on a fence, for birds to shit on.

 

[Sorry, but a neighbour is cooking ugali. I can smell it from my desk and it’s distracting me. Who the hell would be cooking ugali on a Sunday morning?! How hungry do you have to be to cook ugali on Sunday morning?]

 

He got a room in a lodging. You know you are doing badly when you live in a lodging. It was a grubby little place with a bed, a bathroom and a small window that overlooked a boma with mango trees. Most days it was hot in there. He would spend his days lying on that small bed over the cheap beddings, staring at the ceiling. Other days he would be in a bar with people who never heard of Eddy Kimani. Once in a while he would get a gig. The little money kept him afloat. Sometimes someone would pay his rent as a pilot once did. He ate when he had to, from the little kiosks by the roadside. He drunk cheap and kept his overheads low. Eddy was off the radar but guilt had followed him to Diani. He ached to see his children and wife again. He thought about his family. But shame kept him away.

 

One day he met a gentleman called Peter Makuona who ran a very small bakery in the shopping center where he lived.  Peter saw through him and for the first time he opened up. Peter prayed for him then told him, “There is nothing here for you, make peace with your family.” “Peter became that guy for me. The guy who turned around my life because through him I called home after a while and spoke to Nyambura. That opened a small window of reconciliation which grew bigger by the day.”

 

He came home for a school event for his son because Nyambura was travelling to India for work. She gave me the spare room to stay in. “I never went back to Diani after that. We started talking. She didn’t want me there because I had hurt her and I had hurt the family and my history was full of irresponsbility. She wanted to know why. She wanted to open these past wounds so that we can consider healing. She wasn’t sure it would never happen again. She didn’t want to go through it again. We talked about it. It’s a long conversation, this path to truth and reconciliation. It’s a long road.”

 

Then one day he heard Peter was involved in a bad road accident when he was going back to mainland Mombasa where he lived and had his main bakery. “I immediately went to see him in hospital where doctors were thinking of amputating his legs,” he says. “But they saved his legs and he had to close down his bakery in Diani. You know what I think of this?”

 

I don’t.

 

“I think it’s divine intervention. I think God made this guy open a bakery in Diani to meet me because when I met him, his bakery was only two or three months old. He set me on a different path of my life then had that accident which made him close down the Diani bakery. I think his work in Diani was not to sell bread, it was to save me and now that his work was done, God made him go back to Mombasa, closer to his family. His bakery in Mombasa is doing so well he’s opened others,” he says.

 

It makes sense to me. I see His hand. Can we hear an Amen back there, guys?

 

Eddy Kimani of today isn’t the Eddy Kimani of the billboards. He isn’t up on his feet yet. He’s surviving on small jobs. He’s giving talks about manhood and responsibility as men, as fathers, as husbands. “I always say I’m being re-engineered,” he says. “I’m learning to be an upright standing man, a normal and engaged father. I’m shaking off bad habits and learning fresh ones, skills that can make me a better person. You know, I ran into my wife’s diary one day when I just got back and out of curiosity I read it. In there was a prayer for me. When I was in Nakuru being selfish she was always praying for me. Can you believe that? I was touched reading that. That she never completely gave up on me.”

 

“You don’t have a stable income right now so I assume she takes care of the big bills – rent and whatnot. How does that play out? How do you feel about her taking care of what you should be taking care of? What position does that place you in?” I ask.

 

He pauses. “This is also a conversation we should all have as men. We have placed a lot of emphasis on the usefulness of a man being what he provides financially. I’m not providing because I don’t want to, it’s because I’m unable to currently. Had this been many years ago, I think I would have felt differently because of my ego. But now my ego has changed. I’m putting effort and this effort should hopefully take us to where we need to get. But having said that I really respect her for who she is for what she had done for herself and for this family.”

 

“Do you think one can be a good father if you can’t provide for your children?” I ask.

 

“I think being a good father is not about the material. I think you can be a good father still. And I’m relearning how to love my children now. I failed before but failure should be your ally, it’s the best ingredient for success.”

 

“Are you drinking still?”

 

“Hardly ever, also you need money to drink.” We chuckle at that.

 

He has to run. I call him an Uber and as we wait, I ask him how much of our manhood is tied to being able to provide for our families and our women. Because it seems directly proportion; the less your are able to provide, the less you must feel like a man and vice versa.

 

“Someone – a pastor – once told me that there is nowhere in the Bible it is written that a man should provide for the woman. I’m yet to look that up. But there is talk of the man being the leader etc. I think men should take care of their families and I’m not running away from it. Circumstances however, can force a man not to provide for his family. Does that make him a man who has failed by his family and by God? When we are young it’s drummed into our heads what a man should be; a man should not cry, a man should be this and that and so when we lose our jobs we feel like we have lost our manhood. But marriage is about partnership, to help another rise, to support each other.”

 

The Uber guy calls. He says, “Where are you?” I don’t get why they ask that when it’s already on the app. I want to tell him I’m in Mandera. Under an acacia tree, with a sick goat. Anyway, the Uber guy finds us. I ask Eddy Kimani what he’d do differently if he had a second shot at everything and he says, “Oh so many things. I’d be more accomodating to my wife. I’d spend money wisely. I’d handle fame better….they are so many.”  We shake hands.

 

***

                                       Have a good and safe Easter Holiday.

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172 Comments
    1. Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever. 1st Timothy 5:8

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    1. “…I think fathers should guide their sons on how to be men. Otherwise our sons will grow up with their own version of what a man should be and sometimes their version is so removed.”

      May God uphold all the single parents as they raise these kids in absence of the other sex

      Amen

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      1. I now believe that God desires for every father to courageously step up and do whatever it takes to be involved in the lives of his children. But more than just being there or providing for them, he’s to walk with them through their lives and be a visual representation of the character of God, their father in heaven.

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    2. For a man to open up like that….takes alot! I hope this reaches and touches other men who are struggling with their own demons in silence. Kudos in that aspect. You’re on the path to recovery. What i did’nt resonate with though is the prospect of God making a man open up a business for three months, then break his legs (imagine the turmoil he and his loved ones went through) only to have him re-open the same business elsewhere just to save another. We dont know the bigger picture nor God’s mind. Sorry Eddy that smacks of something else….

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      1. From the Engage convo, he mentioned that he had cheated…I would have wanted him to give us a bit of that story.

        Great lessons though.

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    1. Whoa!….. I’m not big on commenting but that story seems like my father narrating his life…. Only that he has not come back yet…… ’twas a good read.

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    2. I heard Eddy Kimani’s story before and I couldn’t believe he was the same one I knew back in the day. Fame comes with many things. Faking, infidelity(in that section he talked of having a relationship with another lady and the wife found out) and living on cloud nine. Why do they (celebrities) forget they are human like us? Why do people care so much about what others think of them? We all have one life to live, no? Splashing money you do not have is not cool. At the end of the day we are alone and no one cares till next time. Anyway, to all his own

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      1. I have learnt, until you have walked the journey, do not be quick to judge; there is a world of difference between knowing right doing right in slippery circumstances.

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      1. Being man enough comes with responsibility which is not an easy task. Great piece of work Biko. Can’t wait the day we will be reading on a daily basis….May God bless your art.

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        1. I don’t know why the society puts so much pressure on men to provide financially for their family. As young girls we are taught ht how to care for the family while the boys are taught how to be tough and, as we grow up both sexes realize that there is a power struggle. And since the boys have always been told to take leadership they think that money is the solution, financial provision is what makes them men, husbands and good fathers.
          Which is not..
          Being a leader is about taking responsibility in whatever form a person is capable. Being a father to me is seeing my son every day interact with his dad through the day. Being taught and disciplined and giving guidance…

  1. ” (and this includes guys from Nyahururu, Gilgil and such like neverland places) ” before I continue reading , Biko! Nyahururu my hometown is not neverland, we are the only town in Kenya that experiences snow, you know….majuu stuff! maybe you are the only one who hasn’t been there. I should tag Panari resort Nyahururu to host you for a weekend.

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  2. Wow! Being broke can teach you stuff that can never be taught in any university. He has God, Nyambura and his mother rooting for him. Eddy will be fine.

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  3. First off, I stan harder than before Eddy. To open up and be vulnerable enough to share your life story is something respectable. And bold.

    So much to unpack here. So much to learn too. My biggest fear of being a dad is forgetting to be present enough. This craze of chasing money and status easily clouds us from seeing what is important by family and by God.

    The conversation of a man as a leader and a provider is also overdue. Especially with current gender wars in mind. I am amazed how Eddy made it work at a point where some men would simply walk away into oblivion. A true testament that being a man and a father does not start and end with money.

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    1. You never disappoint Biko! I loved the ugali and caroet/shoes interlude.
      I wish Eddy Kimani (see I remembered) well. His story is inspiring

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    2. Indeed success attained at an early age, can throw us into a disarray of self sabotage. Because that which is born pre-mature struggles to survive, if at all.
      Forced into the rocky waves of change, we grapple with the changes that await on the other end of the shore.

      The saving grace? Resilience of the human spirit, which can turn the darkest night into dawn. That, and the faith of those who love us beyond the cracks.

      Hang in there Eddy Kimani, a brighter day awaits. Keep embracing the lessons that life serves.

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    3. Eddie’s story is my father’s story. Alcohol ruined my father but my mum was just like Nyambura, still loved him and held down the duties of the house. Its true being a father is not all about material things coz we still loved my dad as he was the easiest to talk to and never judged anyone.

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  4. Ooh wow!!What a journey!!I watched Eddy on the engage forum and I am so happy that he has decided to share his story.
    There is hope and forgiveness after all.His journey of healing and rediscovering himself has started.

    This also teaches us to remain humble in all our endeavours and value our friends and families…

    Nice read!!

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  5. I love the series Biko… Big up Eddie Kimani for willing to tell people what he’s going through, especially coz he is coming from a place he used to care so much what people would think of him… I basically just love this series.

    I low-key wish you could interview and get inside the mind of Naftali Kinuthia.

    Happy Easter

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  6. So many truths in this piece today.

    ‘ I was becoming a stranger to (her), day by day and a stranger to myself hour by hour.’
    Don’t we all know how that feels…

    And maybe even more relatable; you definitely need money to sustain a drinking problem. Haha

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  7. I thought you had written this before, then I remembered he had told his story at “Engage Talk”. Always inspiring Eddy Kimani.

  8. As one of those who have met Eddy courtousy of work, this is truly an eye opener. In a million years I wouldn’t have guessed this, the need to fit in and what society damands of us….. Thank you Eddy and Biko for this read, it’s true, no one knows our stories and lately I have stopped judging and appreciating everyone for I do not know their story.

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    1. ……….“I’m learning to be an upright standing man, a normal and engaged father. I’m shaking off bad habits and learning fresh ones, skills that can make me a better person……”
      Reminds me of the saying…. ‘Hakuna kunachodumu ulimwenguni kuliko mabadiliko.’ Of everyday being a RE-engineering season.

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      1. I listened to his engage talk but I still had to read this. Methinks Dads being present even when they cannot adequately provide for their families is important. Chase the paper but just be there when you need to be there.

      2. Things are falling apart so fast my head is spinning I am even going away this weekend just to clear my head. Maybe God brings the bakery guy in my life.

  9. I read Eddy Kimani’s story somewhere else and Biko I feel like you have left out alot. Anyways this man is a phonex and he will continue to rise from the ashes..
    FYI Biko am one of those people who wake up to cook ugali in the morning.. am not a chai mkate, bacon eggs kind of girl so leave us alone! Have a lovely week..won’t you?

    14
  10. Wow! This one is so raw and real with moments that make you pause and ask…Shouldn’t this be a backstory for the boy child campaign?

    PS: “By the way, I think you are really lucky that you are not keen on being out there” made me go on Google as I realized I don’t know how Mr. Biko looks like. Well, I have imagined him…his forehead mostly, but the little that Google had to offer shows he is easy on the eyes. Carry on, Biko. Mystery is always good. Sometimes good things are ruined through publicity.

    11
  11. This is a good story on marriage, only that i didn’t find it interesting because i knew how it would wind up given that I’ve heard it before from Eddy Kimani himself on Engage Talk Kenya.
    So I guess I’m going to have to wait until next week to read the next story. My Bad!

    3
  12. Ati how hungry does one have to be to cook ugali on a Sunday morning?
    Man, I think you are effing funny.

    It is a nice unburdening from Eddy.

    1
  13. Yoh. That was intense.

    I think this is definitely what they mean when they say marriage requires work. And patience. Lots and lots of patience.

    It’s a shame men aren’t really sat down and guided on the paths on marriage. Whereas women are, but only told how to tolerate a man.

    I once heard this preaching on radio 316 at night, it was about Moses praying for victory with his hands up and everytime they went town, his people would lose.

    A man, like Moses, needs a brotherhood. Aaron was to Moses what Peter and Allan were to Eddy. They kept his hands up.

    A brotherhood/sisterhood, is vital for every living human.

    On that note, I’ll definitely pick up the call and call someone, might be the turning point.

    Happy Easter guys

    30
    1. First off, This government housing project has irked me to the core….my net is at a third already, am on loans and mortgage….why am I being forced on this thir project if the intent is noble? how much more can they take….I think this country is ready for change….

      Biko, I passed by Karura the other day and thought about you doing weekend bikes with the kids…will join you soon.

      Eddy…nchera yanya gotebi mogendi….literally, the road never warns the traveller….am glad though, that you survived the fall, many die in the process and fade into oblivion. Yours is a rich and blessed journey…keep at it…
      What would we all do without women like Nyambura? Bless your soul gal.

      11
  14. “Someone – a pastor – once told me that there is nowhere in the Bible it is written that a man should provide for the woman. I’m yet to look that up…..”
    1 Timothy 5.8. But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel.
    Now you know. No need to look up!

    14
    1. You’ve taken the verse out of context. Read the whole chapter. Paul was talking to Timothy about widows and was cautioning the immediate families for neglecting widows.

      4
      1. Yes but in Genesis Adam is punished by making him till the land to get provision whereas Eve gets painful labour. Provision by the man is biblical. It is his punishment for the fall of man.
        This story has disappointed me. The worst parts of his actions have been left out like how he was unfaithful in his marriage and what he did in Nakuru County. This makes Eddy come off as a victim which he is not. This selective narration of things that are in the public domain questions the motive of the narrative.
        The male readers here have now been encouraged to mess up with the thought that us loyal wives will be waiting in the wings.
        No Eddy you are not a victim. You made your choices

        2
  15. “Someone – a pastor – once told me that there is nowhere in the Bible it is written that a man should provide for the woman. I’m yet to look that up…..”
    1 Timothy 5.8. But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel.
    Now you know. No need to look up! OK?

    1
  16. It takes a strong man to admit that he has failed badly and learning from it and then raising from it. You are doing good,Eddy Kimani.

    2
  17. “This is also a conversation we should all have as men. We have placed a lot of emphasis on the usefulness of a man being what he provides financially. I’m not providing because I don’t want to, it’s because I’m unable to currently…”

    That cuts deep. It’s proven how many men are silently suffering from depression that comes from our egos and the stereotypes in the world. I watched Eddy Kimani’s story on Engage Talk on YouTube and it resonates deeply. I also watched Michael Oyier’s (KTN) story and it was also a bit shocking as well. Out here a lot of people even the celebrities are wearing masks and hiding what’s beneath and it corrodes them each day leading them into tough depression and rockbottom statuses.
    Speaking on behalf of men, young and old, we need a solution.

    13
  18. The fog has lifted..the dark clouds are moving on..Like the Proverbial Phoenix, Eddy Kimani You shall rise from the Ashes

    1
  19. I gave Eddy an emceeing job some time last year despite a few oppositions and to be honest i am really glad i did. Eddy i hope you make back on your feet, heck i hope you can fly again!

    11
  20. I applaud him that he’s vulnerable enough to admit and still willing to relearn and do the right thing .
    I also don’t think he’s failures were a mess if he is impatting other men. His wife and children suffered and am proud if that woman Yes proud of her.
    Those messes are changing other men’s destiny which is more valuable .

    1
  21. Very nice post. We are in a crisis with men not knowing what to do when they fail or how to handle rejection an women not sure how to handle situations where the man is not the man your dad said he should be. We need help and we need God to know that our worth as human beings is not what magazines and media would have us believe it is based on bu rather on just being alive.

    3
  22. I love a great comeback! I love people who realize their folly and rise up having learnt a lesson. This is great. I feel so empathetic towards him because I watched him on TV on a mental health awareness show and I know just how much it takes to want to be better and the demons one fights within. Well done Eddie, your story has not ended yet.

    2
  23. Sometimes we tend to leave lyf the way society expects us to leave…..but the time one discovers tht u don’t owe any one your position in lyf ….think one will have peace of mind.
    Good women are there ….and majority run their homes without yapping much about it.
    Nyc read @ Biko hv a lovely Esther too…

    1
  24. These our wives have strong instincts. It is important we try weigh options together. Eddy Kimani you will soar high.
    To Nyambura, respect for giving him another chance. Biko, thanks for beautiful put post……..sounds like a dissertation acknowledgments. May be is an influence of the one I a am doing now.

    1
  25. First off, This government housing project has irked me to the core….my net is at a third already, am on loans and mortgage….why am I being forced on this thir project if the intent is noble? how much more can they take….I think this country is ready for change….

    Biko, I passed by Karura the other day and thought about you doing weekend bikes with the kids…will join you soon.

    Eddy…nchera yanya gotebi mogendi….literally, the road never warns the traveller….am glad though, that you survived the fall, many die in the process and fade into oblivion. Yours is a rich and blessed journey…keep at it…
    What would we all do without women like Nyambura? Bless your soul gal.

  26. 1st Timothy 5:8 About a man providing for his family.
    What a roller coaster of deep stuff and struggle to rise. I love.

  27. “I think it’s divine intervention. I think God made this guy open a bakery in Diani to meet me because when I met him, his bakery was only two or three months old. He set me on a different path of my life then had that accident which made him close down the Diani bakery. I think his work in Diani was not to sell bread, it was to save me and now that his work was done, God made him go back to Mombasa, closer to his family. His bakery in Mombasa is doing so well he’s opened others,” THIS STATEMENT REEKS NARCISSISM!! HE’S IN MANY WAYS STILL FULL OF SHIT! WHICH gOD LEADS A GOOD MAN TO MAKE A LOUSY INVESTMENT AND LATER BREAKS HIS LEGS IN ORDER TO SAVE SOME RANDOM HAS-BEEN GUY!!!

    2
    1. Yes God works in mysterious ways, he does as he wants as in this case my friend. all his creation matters even a “has been “

      1
  28. Ooh wow..i saw him share his story on Engage. Its a tough world out here its even tougher when you live as per people’s expectation. He was a great guy on TV and the voice overs..
    A great read Biko..i love this line too…couldn’t locate the pulse of my conscience. [I love this]

    1
  29. in this life we ought to unlearn and re-learn a lot. A manhood or masculinity cannot just be defined by the ability to provide, unfortunately that’s what rings in our minds always. Anyway it keeps us on toes.

    1
  30. I have been following Eddy Kimani’s story and i feel his assignment all along had something to do with him falling and rising up and to be a voice especially for the boy child. To address the gaps and mentor men and boys even..
    Through his experience he will reach out to change and model others.

    3
  31. The true Hero in this story is Nyambura! “Wherever you are Nyambura and if you ever read this, just know you have earned all the respect. You have taught all of us what it means to be a woman! Continue the faith”.

    5
  32. Eddy’s story is so touching, and it speaks to me that it’s okay (there is no shame) to loose our bearing as men. As long as we able to get it together, for how else do we learn from our mistakes esp at a time when our masculinity is under sharp scrutiny by virtue of providing not only for ourselves but for our families.

  33. Really Biko? Blue shoes??? I wish i could tag someone i know. Also that divine intervention part…. I felt that.
    Happy Ester too.

  34. I know how it feels to go down to the point you can’t provide for your family.
    I know how it feels to lose everything you’ve worked for.
    I know how it feels to be kicked out of your house.
    It hurts.
    It’s worse when your ‘friends’ turn their backs on you.
    It’s an eye opener, though, with vital lessons to be learnt.
    One day, I’ll rise up again, just like the Phoenix.
    And so will Eddy.

    8
  35. It does take courage to be that vulnerable of ones failures. Thanks Eddy for this. Its a big lesson on humility, fame and financial management and even greater- Family.

    Nice read Biko.

    1
  36. Niko, sitting under an acacia tree with a sick goat really???? . I however so much feel for Eddy Kimani. I first saw his story on the Engage channel on YouTube and it left me admiring the strength he had surmounted to rise and voice out his story. But you know what, balance defines life and your side of the equation will finally add up to balance things back to normal.

      1. The Uber guy calls. He says, “Where are you?” I don’t get why they ask that when it’s already on the app. I want to tell him I’m in Mandera. Under an acacia tree, with a sick goat. I’m using this.

        ION: I know a couple of men who should probably read this before it’s too late. I think one of the hardest things in life is being yourself. Great read!

  37. “…your beard looking like it regulates the temperature of its own bath”. Only God knows where you get those expressions!!

    3
  38. Wow! He’s really brave to confront the shame and open enough to share his story without the use of an alias.
    I think he’s on the right track to recovery and things will get better.

    For some strange reason, I’m reminded of this quote from Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, “Then the women knew that they were safe and that there was no break. Then they asked, What’ll we do? And the men replied, I don’t know. But it was all right. The women knew it was all right, and the watching children knew it was all right. Women and children knew deep in themselves that no misfortune was too great to bear if their men were whole.”
    His friends who stood by him and encouraged him deserve a medal.

    5
  39. I agree. I also think that the word ‘his’ in 1 Timothy 5:8 is metaphorical for both men and women. Remember the book of Proverbs also says a wise woman: Proverbs 31:15 she gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family and portions for her female servants. According to me, it’s the responsibility of both the man and woman to fend for the family. Not just one person.

    5
  40. The Uber guy calls. He says, “Where are you?” I don’t get why they ask that when it’s already on the app. I want to tell him I’m in Mandera. Under an acacia tree, with a sick goat. Anyway,

    That was funny

  41. I Like the story but not yet in love with it.It feels as if its half the story that there some more juice more dirt you know more dirty laundry.i really feel for the wife she loved him from the heart when settling but he did it from the mind that why it made no sense to share his doing that why he did what he did you cant love from the heart and do somethings.And the depth of her love to him is still there that no matter how bad one hurts you as far as the love is from the heart the pain is sucked in.its good he is coming back but am scared for the wife if he backslide when the money pops up again.It takes God guidance,fear,wisdom,maturity of the mind not age and self respect to separate men with money from cheating.i secretly think he was cheating aloooot.

    3
  42. Nice read. I can tell there is a lot of juice you are keeping in the freezer on this story. Pick it from the freezer, let the ice break and do a Chapter 2.

    You know i am right!

    4
  43. , “Zii!’. Zii for those reading from Zambia means no. I could have just written “no” but that isn’t the same as zii. Zii conveys a refusal in a very Kenyan way. It’s even better if you put “aii,” before the “zii.” That means that there is no way this is happening. Nyambura didn’t say “aii” but she said “zii.” Zii can change into a yes but aii zii is final.

  44. Good read as always. truly everyone can arise again , our God is faithful that He give us a chance to correct our mistakes.

  45. ” I’m that person who, when someone is telling an intense story, will ask, “Do you remember the colour of shoes you were wearing?” and people always stop to ask, “What?! Colour of shoes? How is that important?” But it is for me and now that story won’t be complete until I know the colour of shoes they were wearing and if they refuse to tell me it will haunt me for the rest of my life. I will wake up in the middle of the night and think, what if they were blue shoes?” HOHOHOHOHO

  46. aaaiii ziii,

    i had to re-read,
    @Eddy Read Zekaria 1: 3 Nĩ ũndũ ũcio ĩra andũ atĩrĩ, Jehova Mwene-Hinya-Wothe ekuuga ũũ: ‘Njookererai, nĩguo Jehova Mwene-Hinya-Wothe ekuuga, na niĩ nĩngũmũcookerera,’ ũguo nĩguo Jehova Mwene-Hinya-Wothe ekuuga.
    Stories that people can relate too .

    @Nyambura, you are blessed.

    2
  47. “Cooking ugali on a Sunday morning”- this reminded me of how last weekend ended. After a wonderful drinking spree in town and later 1824 till early dawn, the parking lot in South B was shelter until sunlight was visible for the fear of the breathalyzer test-Alco blow as is popularly known. Then came the hunger associated with hangover, we pondered for hours where we could find roast meat and ugali early that morning. All attempts at different locations seemed like a wild goose chase till we arrived at Choma zone on Thika road. The hustle was absolutely worth it, delicious roast.

    1
  48. “The Uber guy calls. He says, “Where are you?” I don’t get why they ask that when it’s already on the app. I want to tell him I’m in Mandera. Under an acacia tree, with a sick goat. ”

    LMAO

    2
  49. ……..Now it’s some low bassed music, when something is about to jump out of darkness and lick your neck….. how your mind works, this caught me so off guard, hahaha

  50. I think all the girls called nyambura are good… Like the othe one we read about in “the river between” nice read as always

    1
  51. Something I have never understood, if you are the first to comment, do you get an award? Is this some type of mental illness? How does it benefit a person if he/she is the first to comment? People might be needing help and we are here ignoring them. Someone, please help me understand.

    5
  52. Great as always Biko, love the read,m obviously looking forward to Tuesdays. Eddie you have a gem for a wife, treasure her. Great lessons on family and provision too

  53. Eddy, thankyou for bringing up this conversation. Society has reduced masculinity to mere providence, yet so much can come in the way of providing, like lack of opportunity or illness(mental or physical). My definition of a man is someone who is faithful and virtuous; consistent and reliable; he imparts into his children ethical values; he plays, he prays and he counsels his family. All these can be done even if he is not the breadwinner.

    1
    1. That definition is on point. sometimes men are stripped of their dignity just because they cannot provide but they’re still capable of doing the other stuff mentioned. society needs to reduce this pressure off men otherwise we are dealing with very many broken men.

  54. Not related to Eddy’s story; but somehow related. We had that TV up there when TV was TV, and we too, like those Diani guys didn’t know Eddie. We knew Badi Muhsin, we watched Rafiki Pesa in Mizizi and felt ecstatic. I know it is tough to be a celebrity because one day I saw myself passing on TV behind a reporter on duty and the next day I was walking in town feeling like everyone knew me! Haha. Good read as usual.

    2
  55. A good writer is one who pays attention to the tiny details. You are a good writer Mr. Biko.
    Also, this guy admitted to reading his wife’s diary…

  56. Biko…. Ati you are where with a sick goat? Lol!

    I wish I could tell that to every Uber guy who asks uko wapi.

    Lots of our men are in this quietly because they have FOMO Fear Of Missing Out and have to be out drinking everything.

    1
  57. Wait till you cant locate the matchbox late in the evening when you are ready to make supper,hunger will wake you up to look for even a single matchstick you used to ‘scratch’ your ears….n boom, neighbourhood will awaken to the smell of ugali…

    Like a gang-member said up there, the story of Eddy Kimani should speak to boychild and mentor young fathers…

    Had to read this to hear what namesake has to offer..

    2
  58. I think there is soo much more to the story than the said. Cheating and recklessness being amiss. Its quite a story . I stand in awe of Nyambura, a woman who did what few of us would do .
    What i don’t agree with is ,Eddy Kimani claiming that no old man sat him down and taught him how to be a man.That he could not juggle being a celeb, a husband and a dad. That he did not know how?…….You always know the right thing to do. You made wrong choices over and over again but you always knew what was the right thing to do. If you ask Nyambura, she did not stay bcoz an old woman sat her down and told her that thats what she should do………she choose right.You are a victim of your own bad choices but am glad you made one right ;coming back home.

    1
    1. I think he didn’t shift the blame to no old man, but trust me, most men out here have not been mentored, they have just grown up and they are expected to know what is expected of them. Some turn out OK, some like Eddy don’t. Our mothers atleast spend time with us, teaching us, mentoring us, empowering us. I don’t know how to real explain this, but yes, shit happened, you are being harsh, Nyambura is a good woman. At the end of the day, we deal with things differently depending on several factors including emotional intelligence

  59. “Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever” (1 Timothy 5:8).

    Yes, the Bible doesn’t specify…

    Good read! God bless Nyambura

  60. A mother will always love you,from when you have everything to when you have nothing and Mama’s prayer. Being a father takes more than a man,a good wife .Mama’s prayer.

  61. “When I was in Nakuru being selfish she was always praying for me. Can you believe that? I was touched reading that. That she never completely gave up on me.”

    Only when you realise being selfish destroys you more than the other person will you change. I too will pray for you Eddy Kimani.

    1
  62. …But having said that I really respect her for who she is for what she had done for herself and for this family.”
    May God bless all those women out there who struggle to run their families alone, without husbands.
    Blessed Easter Biko!

  63. Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever. 1 Timothy 5:8

  64. ‘ Circumstances however, can force a man not to provide for his family. Does that make him a man who has failed by his family and by God?…..’
    I believe that does not make you a failure

    I recently heard a preacher talk of how if a man cannot provide materially to his family then he is not a man at all but a dog ….. ‍♀️

  65. I have not read anything so attentively in ages mainly because, at 12 I had this huge crush on Eddy Kimani (With the gap between his teeth, mustache and smoking eyes *mamma mia!*).

    Respect to you Eddy Kimani for sharing your story in a world where 99% of humans are phoney!

  66. God bless you Eddy. The Lord God of the bible says my grace is sufficient. I am soo jazzed readin this because i can relate. What God does when we are broken and repentant is something beyond words. God has plans for you and they are much better as you probably already finding out. Jeremiah 29:11. You have an amazing wife and moms and those God-send friends you mention in your storo. Jesus loves you. Thank you for sharing man.

  67. May the Lord see your willingness to do it right and reward you immensely. Your wife is a gem, please treasure her. See, God has given you a new chance, I’m glad to know that your future is brighter than it has ever been, slowly you will get there. God bless your mum, Allan and Peter.

    Nothing just happens.

  68. Ish hold up Biko, Gilgil is a neverland place? That so hurt my feelings. In fact I quit reading you until you retract that statement, I just couldn’t get past that blasphemous statement.

  69. This is a raw conversation of a man who accepts he has failed himself and his family….
    Of an amazing woman who forgives, supports and takes back a man who failed her and her children.

    I believe people should stop creating characters and living a charade and just be themselves

  70. Thanks Biko.

    They say being a man or woman enough is all in the head. Respects to Mrs Kimani for being a woman enough. Had she been from the current crop of ladies, this story would have been on every social network for all the wrong reasons. And to Mr Kimani for not succumbing to self pity, respect.

  71. I feel very inadequate not knowing Eddy Kimani. I will have to dig him up. His story is some STORY!

    https://reshonlineblog.wordpress.com/2019/04/18/the-colour-purple/

    1. Waaa, manhood and family matters,who really gets sat down to get a lecture on the manner to handle a family, your own family as a start up man?

  72. The Humour Killed it…Otherwise Eddy Kimani’s story.Is part of Life..Everyone should appreciate their life story..Mine is my best…still learning..falling rising, ,maintaining..I am enjoying every ride…A life without up and down is no life.is boring..is dead….

  73. I think there might be in existence a version of “Zii” you need to come across, that specific one can’t turn into a yes.

  74. Nice read but hapo kwa ‘Pastor that a man should not provide for a woman’ kuna questions mark. I refer to story of Adam who was cursed to till and get food from the soil. So in other words he needs to provide Gen 3:17….

  75. . But marriage is about partnership, to help another rise, to support each other.”
    Isn’t this just the truth!

  76. As a married man no matter how much you fast and pray there are some doors that’ll never open until you make your wife happy.

    2
  77. Nothing reveals one’s delusion of grandeur than to think that an unfortunate event happened to someone else for your benefit. Pathetic and egotistical.

  78. Your stories are so authentic with a wicked sense of humour… I love love your blog. Its amazing. Keep writing and sharing the untold stories.

  79. Real love never gives up no matter what… his wife truly loves him in his highs and lows..no matter what…. family comes first. Its not late for Eddy to still make up for the lost time in his children’s lives….. that is the father they know and that father still loves them… and he came back to his family … to them and made his peace.That is all that matters…. family is everything those are the people that hurt the most when we not there and those are the same people that accept you with genuine open arms just the way you are… because you cant wear a mask around them..

  80. I listened to his engage talk but I still had to read this. Methinks Dads being present even when they cannot adequately provide for their families is important. Chase the paper but just be there when you need to be there.

  81. How comes no one commented about Ugali on a Sunday morning? Well the cooker must be a sabbath adherent who does no kitchen chores on sabbath henceforth the early Sunday morning ugali preparation. Another Jack.

    1
  82. Oh my! He could be my dad, except that my dad has yet to make it back to us. It sometimes feels like the birds eat our prayers before they get to God. Its testimonies like this that keep us hoping.
    Also i thought i was the only one who wonders about them Uber drivers..