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My reflections: A punch in the gut, that’s what life is sometimes

My Man By Gerald Githinji
Guardian angels are mothers or mothers are the guardian angles (Shutterstock)

If I told you I’m always bubbling with joy, I would be lying. But if I told you my life is usually strewn with joy here and sadness there, in a kind of sequence, I won’t be lying.

Everyone’s life is a muddle of feelings. I was thinking about this when this thought nudged my brain. I’m a pretty lucky fellow or the good Lord always shines his favour upon my life.

I have been going through a lot recently but this hasn’t really dimmed my sheen. I don’t let it. I move on, still focused on the blinking light at the end of the tunnel.

In July last year, two months of hell were about to push me off the precipice. I lost quite a sum of money to thieves. These guys had drugged me and left me to die.

When I woke up ten hours later, in a dingy room in a place I can’t even recall, hazy and in fear, my account had been wiped clean. They had used my phone to transfer funds in a matter of minutes. I talked to myself. I thought, ‘this is it’.

I was on the verge of insanity. I thought I would become this guy roaming the streets murmuring to himself about money he lost and scaring children. I surprised myself when I bounced back, wearing a smile even when the DCI seemed to be doing nothing to recover the money.

Just when I was almost recovering, I lost my job. It’s not those things that come as a surprise because sometimes instinct tries to talk to us, but we suppress it. I had this gut feeling.

As I opened the letter with trembling hands, I was 80 per cent sure of the contents of the letter. Still, for an hour, I felt like my end had come. That I couldn’t go through this. That this was too much for one person.

I parked my car at a secluded place on Nairobi-Nakuru highway and exhaled. I started counting my misfortunes over the last two months, and they were more than four. I asked Him some questions. I felt overwhelmed. But that was that. It only lasted an hour, then I was back to myself.

Then I started counting lucky escapes in life. I was ready for a comeback. It will not be the end of sorrows or misfortunes, but these pressures of life are making me stronger and more grateful.

Again, I’m not yet at the bottom, and if I’m to get to them bottom, there are only lessons to be learnt. It’s at the bottom that we understand stuff, we understand friendships and we understand purposes.

I have been thinking about this a lot these days. And about life in general. How I have leapt over so many dangers in my life. I should applaud my guardian angel.

Should we stop here and clap for her? I should give her a gift. It must be a she. Maybe I should give her a bar of chocolate or a bouquet of roses.

Perhaps all she needs is some internet bundles. Because I keep her online all the time. And she seems to be the age of my mother. Because mothers don’t give up on their children.

You will disappoint your mother a million times, you will even bomb a skyscraper with millions of people in it, but a mother will always stick with you and she will be heard saying, “it must be the devil, my child is a good boy.”

Even when you break her favorite vase. Even when the thought of you moistens her cheeks. Even when the blinking of your name on her phone stops her heart. She will always say you’re her good boy.

Guardian angels are mothers or mothers are the guardian angles. My guardian angel has been working overtime, tirelessly and without demanding overtime pay. And that’s the reason I’m here today.

Life is full of ups and downs. There will be valleys infested with crocodiles and there will be ups shining like the luster of the golden gates. There will never be a time when life will flow continuously like syrup without an end to joy or sorrows. But the trick is to hold and live on.

When is life sweet? Is it when life is full of joys, or when the sorrows comes to an end and we triumph? Would life be worth anything if it was an endless flow of happiness?

Life always offers a jab to the gut, but you will recover.

Would you like to share your reflections? Send an email to [email protected]

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