No. I didn’t start this blog because I had a passion for writing. If there’s anything I value the most though; my books, my exercise books, note books, diaries, just anything I’ve scribbled on. I was one of the best composition writers in my class in primary school. By best I mean we’d score a 30 plus mark out of a possible 40 with the coolest handwritings. I still hold on to my amazing yet funny and some weird stories I wrote for Mrs Karanja to read. She was a very tough English teacher.
Writing for me was a hobby. I’d write anything that came to mind on any piece of paper around. Sometimes I try to declutter my own little home but I’m still attached to all my books because most of them have a story related to how I was feeling on particular days. I’m sure most of us have at least one or two books they can’t easily let go. So writing was my thing! Then came reading, this special culture started in the same school; St. Peter’s Girls’ Boarding. Same English teacher, I don’t remember the number of pacesetters we were required to read in a term but we always ended up reading more & more. We would read at the right and wrong times, wrong places. Before any lesson began, you’d notice how silent the girls would be, only to find them catching up on a pacesetter. Flipping pages inside the desk with the other hand holding the wooden desk cover and the lesson books ready to act when the teacher walked in.
First let me tell you about St. Peter’s. Our precious boarding school that we thought had the worst meals ever before we met Naivasha and Michinda Boys. So Sainty is on a little hill right after Elburgon town, opposite Timslaes Factory. Madam Lucy welcomed us on the first day of school, she was warm, cheerful, all smiles and very humble; day 1. She peacefully hummed catholic hymns as she checked if our parents had managed to buy every little thing required for the boarding life. I will never forget how I waved back at my Mum and Dad with a big smile on my face and a huge ‘waru faga’ in my throat, I cried the entire night. My cousin was the head girl but it didn’t really make my life better on day 1. How I threw up the next morning after taking loose porridge with huge chunks of unga is a story I can’t wait to tell my children. I was only ten years old, my parents were against the idea of boarding school but I insisted because nobody told me the horror stories. Nothing to be scared about but at least someone should have mentioned boiled sukuma wiki and weevils in githeri. I seriously thought I wasn’t going to make it through term 1 but alas by mid-term I was complaining of how my porridge mug should be filled to the brim. I hear it got better! It’s still one of the best boarding schools in Rift Valley.
It’s almost 1am and I’m not even sleepy. Been trying to read Gabrielle Union’s “We’re going to need more wine” but it’s draining my concentration. I really think it’s overrated but I’ll do a review once I’m done. It got me thinking of how people get the desire to write or acquire the passion for writing. I realized writing has become a thing in my country, blogging and then recently vlogging. We all know writing is not for the faint-hearted, creating content, putting it together and publishing it on a public forum is WORK. A whole load.
Here’s what I believe;
Everybody can write but very few people tell good stories.
Good writing requires a lot of reading.
Work on the grammar every chance you get.
Always remember to proof read before publishing.
Find a fellow writer and let them counter check your writing before hitting the publish button (I have zero patience, most of the time I don’t)
Nothing as amazing as building a reading culture with your children. It goes a very long way. Let them enjoy the Sweet Valley’s, the Harry Potter’s, the Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew’s….now you remember them! They still exist in book stores! Get your child a book. Thank me later.
That was the best thing St. Peter’s Girls’ Boarding Elburgon offered us. Most of us still read and write, I know you’re reading this post. By the way girls, where is Mrs. Karanja? Somebody pass my love to her.
What are you currently reading?