Nairobi the Tulip

Nairobi city. In it the overwhelming feeling of the city, in the sun. A city, whose sons are reknown for their athleticism. A city that radiates warmth and colour like a beam through a prism. Nairobi, a flower; a tulip that blossoms top to bottom. A beautiful tulip with the cup shaped flower hiding the weak stem holding it.

Nairobi springs; it does not rock, it swings. Wake up to a beautiful sunrise as birds chirp and sing. Like a thrush chirping at dawn giving you that blood rush to beat that rush in the hour. Whether you are in your leather seat in the office or that rush seat in the outskirts. Nairobi’s aureole flirts with you no matter where you are from.

That’s the flower and flowers wither. This flower is wilting as we differ and dither. Hurrying hither and thither never stopping to think about the stem holding this flower. A weak stem i like to call morals. The society is the flower and our attitude, our character, our morals are the stem holding it. This beautiful flower that has those in power overweighing on a weak stem with their loot and indecision.

A culture that has failed to nurture. A culture that has got us looking for greener pastures away from our homes. A culture that is no longer one rather alone. We no longer zero graze and the craze has spread the evil. All in the endeavour to be civil. So we devour the social upheavals. The pandemic that is HIV and AIDS. The attitude endemic among Nairobians is that of a good life; fun and the shilling.

Money might be the root of all evil but the fun-filled feeling that has got us legalizing polygamy tells us just how promiscuous Nairobi wants to be. So now we will do it legally. Have multiple sex partners legally. The good life. Every Nairobian has his or her eye on the city’s wonders. From living lavish to ravishing commercial sex workers.

Nairobi will always be that beautiful flower empowered by our will to change. Some petals might be withered but this flower has weathered many storms. Some medals might be old but they can still be worn. Some battles lost but the war must be won. There are clouds casting shadows on the townscape. The skyline sometimes clears and and we escape into that beautiful retreat within ourselves for a minute. Sometimes it does not and we succumb to it.


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Kinyua Gichohi

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