A collection from the 2013 diary.

One of the very few blog posts I’ve done this year was a piece on “a resolution less year”. I will not forget putting my thoughts down to emphasize that there is no such thing as having a new year without resolutions, because when we choose not to have a plan, then there is always the plan which is “not having a plan.!”.  I’d thought that wasn’t just going to be another blog by me, but more of a wake-up call that I needed to sit down and veraciously reflect on what exactly I wanted to do with my new year. And of course with a lot of phobia around 13, triskaidekaphobia, I set out to have a year in my life where for once I would live without thinking too much about the next day. I wanted to see and know what it feels like to have no resolutions and live a life of gratification after all is said and done. I think that marked the point where I got it all wrong. I may have lived through the year, but after scoring a 31% in a methodology I devised for myself (as a rudimentary way of testing and re-analyzing oneself or appraising one’s overall performance for a year), I wonder how I even made it through the year without a burn-out.!

Yes, I scored a 31 %! May be I was too hard on my assessment, or maybe I haven’t incorporated the right parameters in my “index”. Well, I can always get a zillion reasons to raise my score to at least a 60%. Thanks to my best friend Carol for reminding me just the other day that I need to start putting down my 2014 resolutions. And I did it…3 days letter, perhaps out of a huge sense of guilt that ailed in me for leading such an awkwardly planned year. There were high times cum the good times which I cannot overlook, but I would say those were highly galvanized by the friends and focused folks around me.

How about taking a quick look into the year that was 2013. With  just about a week to cross over into 2014, which I so anxiously look forward to, because I want to better my score, and have an easier time coming to terms with what I will score, God-willing, should we cross into 2015.

January 2013 sneaked in on a terrible note for me and my family. Losing my all-time favorite uncle and dad, Uncle Martin on the 8^th of January was a low moment for us. Seeing my aunt and her kids more heart- broken more than I, and quarrels erupting over the wake of the funeral wasn’t the kind of send-off we’d wanted for such a respectable man in the community. But that is what we got, a bad scene of hate marauding a peaceful family. I felt scathed that my aunt Monica had to endure all that drama. And I ended up getting into bad terms with part of our larger extended family for what I believed was a betrayal to our family. I haven’t spoken to the “betrayers” to this very date. And maybe I never will, unless they visit my aunt to make an honest apology for the shameful act they did. Later in the month on 11 January we would have the first ever “Presidential debates night in Kenya”, an event organized by the media houses in Kenya. It was an eye-opening forum for Kenyans to see how knowledgeable to issues affecting our community the aspirants were. I remember catching the show at the comfort of my hostel TV room alongside other students each with a different opinion but all of us bonded by the love for our mother country. The environment subject wasn’t particularly given attention and I wasn’t happy. 

February saw me set my feet in the land of a thousand hills in the heart of Africa, Rwanda. I’d always wanted to see Rwanda, the beautiful people and the rich culture. And I got nothing short.  I would later do a blog of my trip (which forms the short list of the very few posts I made in the year). And it was an honor meeting the then executive director of FAWE Africa, MS. Oley a Gambian intellectual who has noticeably stood out for her contribution towards the education of girls across the continent.

A Month at Wilson Airport…

       I study meteorology with an interest in aviation meteorology. While studying weather analysis, I was always more interested in upper air surface and aviation weather coding. I always wanted to know more about the elements that matter so much to an airline or an aerodrome. My university offers meteorology as a degree, there is no majoring unless at masters level. Last semester we had an aviation meteorology unit which I loved so much. It gave me a chance to connect more with weather and its significance which unfortunately is not locally well absorbed in Kenya. Most people tend to view weathermen as liars who always lie about when it will rain and not a drop is seen or when to expect a dry spell which at times doesn't pass. Every time I meet new people, I get surprised should somebody give  a positive response about my major (the norm has been negative comments).  I hope that my final year project work will take me on a road of researching more on meteorology in the aviation sector. 

To get a clearer understanding of how vital weather information is, I opted to have my attachment at an airport. This would also give me a chance to defend the weathermen better whenever anyone said something negative. I wanted to learn, experience and create a good factual story to tell out to the laymen, something that would captivate  and make them appreciate weather forecasting. Sometimes, we can use the power of a captivating story based on experience to change the perception that people have on a given subject.  For the entire month of June 2013, I was based at Wilson airport (HKNW) meteorological office. The staff at Wilson was very welcoming and friendly, at one point I had to ask whether they underwent training to be that generous, friendly and cheerful(because that sort of universal hospitality never comes easy) . If I was doing ISO-Certification based on work ethics and etiquette, then Wilson has my approval! 

A typical day starts at 0500Z (this is 8am East African time). All airports use the Greenwich Mean Time /Zulu /UTC. Every hour, observations are done for elements including temperature, pressure, cloud cover, visibility and wind. There are synoptic hours' observations usually done on a 3-hour interval (0600, 0900, 1200…) which are either main or intermediate hours. Every synoptic hour, we have to code more data which is then sent to the national meteorological centre for analysis and use in prediction. I have always known winds and temperature to be extremely important at an airport; they determine the plane weight load at take off. Not to say that other elements like cloud cover and visibility are not as important, in fact all weather is important weather at an airport. However, I came to appreciate the power of pressure as an element even more. A difference of 1mb pressure reading can make a damaging difference for a plane taking off or landing.

Pressure reading is done from a barometer. This is an instrument usually kept indoors. The reading once taken is corrected to station level pressure from the cistern reading. Taking the pressure reading is one of those things I had to become extra patient and careful while reading. I felt like a champion on the day I finally felt confident doing it right! 

Though the work seemed routine, one beautiful thing about it is the fact that weather changes, which means we always have to look out for something different every hour. It felt fulfilling doing a job that is appreciated by airlines and other consumers within and outside the airport.

The Land of a thousand hills in the Heart of Africa

Not too long ago I was in Rwanda for a weekend. It was a short stay but refreshing in a lot of ways. My 1^st time ever to learn of Rwanda beyond the name and an East African country was in my 3^rd year of high school where we read an examinable Swahili set book by the name “Mayai Waziri wa Maradhi”. The book authored by several writers in Africa has short stories about matters/ affairs that occur in the continent. While most stories are fiction, some are based on true stories.  In one of the stories, “Mkimbizi” which means a refugee, the character is a young boy born in Rwanda who happens to be a victim of the genocide that took place in 1992. It was a fight between 2 tribes; the Hutu and Tutsi. I remember a lot of emotions drawn in my class when my Swahili teacher Mr. Mwaura took us through the story. I felt terribly sad as shivers ran through my blood for the fact that such a young innocent boy would lose his entire family over tribal war. But I remember feeling happy that despite all, having even feasted on wild fruit to survive, he finally made it (through a refugee program) and went abroad where he shaped his life (I believe he is now taking part in developing a now serene Rwanda).

After high school, then a more enlightened student about Rwanda, I would learn a little further about it through its president Kagame and Tusker Project Fame, a music reality show that draws contestants from East Africa. The 1st term Rwanda participated, Alpha from Rwanda emerged the winner. He stole the hearts of East Africans and it was obvious he deserved the top award that year.  I would later come to meet my 1^st Rwandese friends Jean, Athanase, Esperance and Mathieu in my 2^nd year of university. And immediately I would learn their likely nature to have long names. The local language is Kinyarwanda but they are also good speakers of French. A majority of them are familiar with Kiswahili and English.

Rwanda (from online material) and friends is a very clean country. I believed this but I think the amount of believe grew on my trip there. It is a small country which can take one 5hours to drive through. The economy is rapidly growing amassing investors whom I assume have fallen in love with this “land of a thousand hills in the heart of Africa”. As you drive along the streets of Kigali (where I was), you see beautiful trees, flowers and well manicured fences around. There are not many people on the streets as is the norm in my capital home city of Nairobi. The vehicles are few as well; you need not worry about traffic in the morning. The local currency in the Rwandan Francs but the US dollar is generally acceptable. A dollar is equivalent to about Francs 630(as per our hotel concierge exchange rate).  The mobile telecommunication network is MTN (which allows my local country mobile phone network Safaricom to operate except that roaming rates would apply).

Most of the food in Rwanda is similar to my country. The interesting bit is that whereas for us Chapati is a meal over lunch or dinner, it is a typical breakfast serve in Rwanda. The local pepper is noticeably hotter than what is super hot back home. I had learnt these back home and confirmed them on my stay. There are a lot of cooked bananas served in various forms. The local bottled water (similar to a Dasani or Keringet in Kenya) is Inyange. Most places, streets and local goods are referred to by a local name. That reflects a strong pride in local language.

 Plastics are generally prohibited in Rwanda, you may be alerted on your plane prior landing not to disembark with plastics as they are not allowed( I had a tough time doing my packing for this trip as I wasn’t sure to what degree is  ‘not allowed’ applicable). And to a new visitor, the moment you step outside Kigali international airport, you will notice the cleanliness and freshness of the breeze that hovers the vicinity. To an environmentalist like me, you feel embarrassed for driving or walking in a green, clean city where you will not spot a plastic paper or any form of litter on the streets whereas in your own country, you are not yet hitting that level. Along the roads, there are waste bins pitched at reasonable points from each other. And while back home we face a problem of theft of such metallic bins, in Rwanda things seem to be way beyond that nature of theft.

Right from our taxi chauffer at the airport, I immediately connected with a people who are friendly and polite. Except for language barrier, you cannot quite feel uneasy around a Rwandese for the 1^st time. Just like my Rwandese friends back in school who are friendly and generous, the reception in Rwanda didn’t prove an opposite. Our arrival day happened to be the Saturday weekend where the whole community participates in community service and clean-up. Locally known as “Omuganda”, on such a day, you will see hardworking people pouring out for an activity meant to last till mid day. And they all devotedly clean their community. That was a culture that I admired. Just how many places in this world do we have most citizens participate in a nationally recognized community work day monthly (unless it is on a volunteer service program such as those we organize as students over weekends)?  On such a Saturday, you will not spot vehicles on the roads easily. People honor their service to the community. Even at local shopping stores, there are not many people during the community service hours. That kind of discipline is irresistible.

I was dying to connect more with locals through their local dialect. I wished I had more time there to learn the culture, and the people, and the food, and the language. I was visiting for a workshop organized by FAWE (Forum of African Women Educationists) where I got to learn more about the Rwandan Education system. While there is a slight difference in their primary school to Secondary school system in terms of years compared to the 8-4-4 system in Kenya, one is quite capable of attaining further studies elsewhere. We have students from Rwanda who join Kenyan universities. Rwandan government supports higher education through loans just as does the Kenyan government through the Higher Education Loans Board.

On my last day as we drove back to the airport, we spent time bonding with our new friend Alphonse who had been driving us the entire stay. A nice, soft-spoken, jovial and intelligent young man, Alphonse becomes my 1^st taxi driver who becomes a good friend that I look forward to meeting again. An economics graduate, he opted to run a taxi business and enjoys what he does saying it gives him the pleasure of creating new friends from all across the globe each day. And based on our interaction with him, he is definitely a people’s person who is better off meeting new people while proudly sharing about his country than sitting in an office the whole day probably staring at a monitor and punching numbers on the keyboard. Murakoze which means thank you in Kinyarwanda is all I could say as I bid him good-bye hoping to meet again soon. I have never wanted to be back to a place that soon where you feel home away from home.