MISS WORLD KENYA SEMI FINALS BOOTCAMP: DAY ONE

The countdown is on. By Sunday morning we will have been cut down from 47 to 24. 24 of the best, the best of the best of the Country’s most beautiful women.

Midnight of the 30^th Day of September 2014 is the time we get into the resort. Name: Sun n Sand Resort in Kilifi of the Kenyan coast. It is beautiful, Nay; that is an understatement. Heavenly is more like it. The rooms are super spacious, save for the amazing roommate I have: Miss Machakos County whose name is Idah. By the time we are allocated our rooms, have had dinner followed by a brief meeting, it already of 2:45a.m. By the time we are done showering and into our beds, 3:00 am. And you know what? By 6:00 am we should be at the beach jogging and stretching.

As I type this, I am so worn out I can hardly position my keys well on the keyboard. Woke up by 6:00 am (some of the girls could not make it and slept through the intense workout session) was in class for our Etiquette session by 9:00 am courtesy of our chaperone Roselyn through to around midday for another theory session on Modelling 360 courtesy of former Mr. Kenya Odada Okello then after lunch, stepped into the practical catwalks session lasting till around 7:00 pm courtesy of Mike who is an acclaimed model in Kenya. Oh and ladies and gentlemen, we have all been in heels from *wait for it* 7:00 a.m. in the morning!!

Having slept for less than three hours especially after a gruesomely long drive of 12 hours to the beautiful Kenyan coast, I believe we all agree on just how much we are all passionate. I personally am. I actually wanted to hit the gym this evening try and tone my lower body but boy! Who am I kidding, I can barely lift a plate. This is indeed going to be an experience of a lifetime: a trail of trials and tests especially on endurance, character and grace. I can only pray to God that I can achieve this. I have really wanted this for a long time: my big break, my chance at giving back, my chance to change my country and the world, one county at a time. The future, my future is entirely in God’s hands and somewhat in mine as well as yours. Please remember to vote vote and vote some more. Within Kenya, send the text: Miss Laikipia County to 22019 and without, go to the website www.missworldkenya.com and vote for me.

Out of the 24, 12 will be picked via social media and the other 12 will be courtesy of the judges.  Just from having my measurements taken, Gah! Of course I had to be among the shortest girls here at 5’6 making it worse I am also in the upper half of the somewhat curvaceous ones having hip size of 38. Oh well, let’s see what this boot camp has in store for me. God, I really need you in on this. Amen

Blessings and Love from the Coast,

Nyandia.

Miss World Kenya BootCamp: Here She Comes!!

Here I am, amongst the 47 most beautiful women in Kenya. All of us in the hopes of winning the coveted Miss World Kenya crown thus have a fair shot at the overall Miss World competition. All of us, different backgrounds, different stories, different reasons, different passions but all looking to the same direction for the same reason; to win. We are driving to Malindi, along the Kenyan Coast for the semis: Saturday is the D-Day, only 24 will make it to the final academy. This far, the Lord has brought me. Miss Laikipia County, Malindi here I come.

Looking around, most girls know each other. Either from working together in promotions, adverts, runway events, fashion week, other pageants and so forth. I know no one at least I didn’t previously. I hope and pray to make new friends and learn along the way. Everyone needs somebody, trust me humans are not lone beings…especially in existence. This is going to be a long journey, given the distance from Nairobi, the capital. Probably we’ll be arriving at midnight. There is a chance of intimidation, of having a low self-esteem, but I must not let such negative emotions creep up my mind. When you take a glance, these are the finest, fit and most beautiful women around. Perfect body shape, perfect body size, perfect skin and dental formulae….oh lord! ‘Nyandia, you mustn’t.’ ‘Believe in yourself. You got this far didn’t you?’ ‘No!!God got me this far.’ That is the battle going on in my head right now.

All in all, I have no option but to strive to be the best. Despite being flawed in ways more than one, I believe this can be achieved. Nothing is impossible with God. Nothing at all. Not for a weird village girl in the city at least. So I’ll give you updates from the boot camp: wake up times and jogs and workouts as well as catwalk trainings as well and will introduce my friends as well. Some pics couldn’t hurt too right? I’ll try take some videos as well. So for now please go to www.missworldkenya.com and click on Miss Laikipia County and vote. You can also look me up on the 2014 county queens under Ruth Nyandia. Vote! Vote! Vote! And kindly invite your friends as well. Let’s do this!

Love and Blessings,

Nyandia.

TIME FOR THE UNDERDOG

Two or so months ago, I went to an audition 350KM away from where I reside for now. Back to my home town. Time had come. I had a horrible hairdo; no idea why I agreed to try it out, no makeup and was not as fit as expected. This was my biggest leap of faith. I arrived to find a crowd of girls had already gathered…slim, tall, fit, hot, make-up and all. One guy scream “Here is Miss Kenya, she just got here” Flattered I was just as I was nervous. My measurements were taken, keep in mind that I am like 5’6 and I was asked to get in line as a number was assigned to me. 21 or 22 I’m not sure. I was sweating profusely and praying when my number was called up, I walked to where was shown and the judges; 3 of them, all super attractive asked me to give them a walk, I nearly gave up.

I did the best I could though I felt it immediately on how terrible and torturous my walk was and gulped. Three years had passed since I had been diagnosed, three years since I had hit a runway, three years. I was more than rusty. Still, I kept the faith. Bae kept sending me messages of faith and hope as he knew how much I needed this, how badly I wanted this and still do. The judges queried me as expected and thank God I knew about my home area; thank God for everything, thank God for each and every circumstance because he indeed has a way of making and bringing out the best out of the seemingly worst situations.

I was more on I had not made the cut, especially after seeing my photos. My lord! Was I in bad shape! After hours of waiting, we were all called up, just after the last girl who was in a word-PERFECT. Did I mention the judges did point out on my body and how the gym was screaming out for me? So embarrassing but I promised myself and them that I’d be in better shape, for my own sake. Somehow, the judges liked me. Of course not withholding the better body shape. 19 of us to be precise had made the cut. Now, we had to wait. Just wait.

A week later, I got a text confirming I had made the cut and I was to await further instruction. *see what I did there* I lay in wait. And boy did I wait. I had taken one of the girl’s contact and we were both in the dark. Nationwide, the dates kept changing and no word came. After about a month and a half of silence, I let it be. God’s will be done. If it was not in my cards this time, it was definitely in the next. See how badly I need this?

2 months and some days later, I got the text: Standby for the next day. Wait, What? Surely not what I was thinking. Oh yes in Nairobi the following day was the boot camp and the crowning. A few anxiety attacks later, it hit me. We were here. The day of reckoning of phase 2 was here. One casual outfit, a Dinner outfit and heels was among the instructions. In mind I had replayed this day over and over again and believe me, this is not how I had seen it happening.

5:29 a.m. I was up anxiety and all. I’d packed the required and even more. Of course I couldn’t have anything to eat else id hurl my insides. Bae came over and we prayed and headed out. 9:00 a.m. I was where I was needed, too bad none other had arrived. By 12:00 we were only three and the session began. More came over with time. Catwalk time was up, I dreaded this, and I was scared stiff as I wore my six inches. I shocked myself. The trainer asked how id managed to transform myself and I said it was my Mom’s prayers, after all only God could have made this possible.

The time was due, judges were here and we were asked to change. I was so nervous I think I did one of the steps wrong but I pushed on. Bae had come to watch. No pressure. Two hours later, we were seated anxiously and nervously waiting for the results. Second runners up was up, next was first runners up and still my name had not been called out. I almost gave up. Till my name was called. I scream, inwardly. The shock was real, I couldn’t stop shaking as the tiara was placed on me and the photos went on and on. God did this for me. Yes he did.

About time I started believing myself again. About time I got my Mojo back and worked my way up to helping society. I am back!! Today, a few hours later; my feet kinda hurt and my knees are on fire. But it was all so worthy. Next week, the semis are up right after an intense one week boot camp. I am anxious and scared but eternally grateful. I pray, My Family Prays and Bae and friends as well for favor and blessings are unending. Time for the underdog.

Love, Prayers and Favor,

Nyandia.

WHY YOU LOST HER RESPECT/WHY SHE JUST WILL NOT RESPECT YOU

Guys really don’t seem to get it huh? They will literally go and do the same thing over and over again expecting the same results; just as women do but under similar but different circumstances. (See what I did there?) For the members of the clan of Adam, here is a few tips on why she disrespects you so much, it really is a no brainer.

1. You borrow Fare

Guys, Man! Your manhood is literally on the line here. Why would you go and borrow 30 bob surely? Have you sunk this low? Shame. If you’re not at this level with a girl; your ride or die girl, please don’t.

2. You made her pay for your stuff

This one time a guy who was hitting on me invited me to a cook out. I was like hell yeah!! I was really into the tall dark and handsome then. So off to the supermarket we went, I was taught that it really is rude to show up at someone’s place empty handed and I thought, why not bring drinks and maybe a snack? So when I started stacking up my basket, he did too; with cleaning and showering soap, personal effects and all. Oh also what he was planning to make for me. So I was like “of course he is paying for his stuff” When we got to the till, he excused himself to go pick some stuff we had left at the door and oh lawd! We all know who paid for all that shit. ME!! He went from a straight 8 to a –ve. Don’t ever do this.

3. You let her pay on the first date and even Implied on going Dutch

Hell to the No! Especially if you’re the one who asked her out. This is just wrong on so many levels. Be the man you should be, I mean; wear the pants just this once. And asking her to pay for her meal on the first date? Smh could anything be more wrong with you?

4. You wore recycled AND dirty clothes

If you asked her out and then somehow showed up with a smelly shirt and pants with a brown layer around the pocket area, what do you expect? You aren’t a toddler. You have no reason to be a smelly dirty freak.

5. You call yourself a ‘Sufferer’

#icant like I won’t even discuss this. You possess what you profess. It really is that simple.

6. You’re crazy mad infatuated with Boobs and Ass

Ok. First and foremost, we get it; you’re a man. Can this excuse die already? You don’t have to be the boob or booty monster especially when with a girl you claim to be hitting on. It’s just wrong on so many levels. Have some respect for her and your Mother as well c’mon.

7. You call other women ‘Bitches’

Who the hell is going to respect you when you disrespect women so much? You think its cool and hood? Think again. It honestly is immature and thick of you. Don’t. Just don’t.

8. You immediately mentioned Sex And/or an Ex on the first chat

Oh hunny, this is almost as painful as yelling someone else’s name when having sex with your partner. It’s weird and creepy and almost qualifies you as a sex offender. Nobody will even think twice about someone who talks about sex on their first chat. Guys, women think of sex probably even more than you do and trust me within seconds of meeting you, we already know if we’d sleep with you or not. Yet we don’t go around screaming about your junk. Get it.

PS: This is MY honest opinion and take cum two cents.

Hope it somehow helps you earn and maintain your dignity and respect.

Love and Balls,

Nyandia.

The Side-Dish Barbie vs. the Geek Chic

Darlings,

Today I met myself, or at least how I had thought I’d turn out a few years after high school. Who I wanted to be, who I wanted to look like, my idol.

Just from dropping a few pairs of shoes from my business at one of my friend’s choice meet place actually. My friend Eric, was with one of his best friends, sad that I cannot remember his first Name though. His friend Mr. Money Bags is a wealthy Married man and the many times I have heard Eric talk about him, it has always been about him and his tens of girls, out drinking and well, the inevitable…nights of crazy sex.

So, I waited in the car for them to come over and pick from the bunch I had brought and I stood and hugged my teddy Eric, then said hi to his friend. Moments later, I noticed a girl walk straight into the car where they had emerged…I ignored as I did not know whom that was. Soon we were engaged in business talk and five pairs were getting sold. Then, the guy called out to her asking her to come see the shoes. Oh lawd!! In this mud and cold and not too flashy hood which I had been assigned a driver to take me, stood a girl in six inch heels. A Light skin, fake lashed beautiful girl with a kilo of makeup and fake nails in hot pants and leggings walked slowly towards the car just in case her heels got stuck in the mud…

She jumped straight to the driver’s seat and said a casual hello. Whenever I come across a Barbie, I get a bit fearful for the fear of intimidation, the fear of disappearing in the shadows. But that never happens, weirdly enough because I come out with a very strong personality. Here I was, in my near thick geek Guess Marciano glasses, a hoodie, jeans and some oxfords. The complete opposite of who I thought I would ever be. I thought I would always be the Barbie, minus the married man of course.

Soon after we left, she joined the car I was in and the driver was instructed to drop her home first as it was closer. We left. My God! Did we drive! Honestly, I expected her to live in some suburb or posh leafy hood. How wrong I was. When we finally stopped, she alight and couldn’t even brace herself to say a goodbye. From the car, all eyes were on her; the skimpy dressing, the heels and the makeup. Poor girl, if she only knew how better and simpler the world was when you did right. I tapped the driver from the back and asked him where we were, he literally burst into laughter as he too had no clue. There were like a million people around. Swarms and swarms of people.

I looked back at my life as we drove away from the hood and thanked God for making me who I am. My whole 5’6 tech geek in non-fitting jeans, hoodies and glasses. At least I wasn’t working my ass off to please someone else’s husband and/or Dad. I do not judge but I am grown enough to know right from wrong. My heart goes out to all girls who are still growing up either younger or older than me, the temptations we have to face when we come face to face with tough and tricky situations and the consequences we have to pay for wrong actions.

Basically, kids; choose your idols wisely.

Blessings and Love,

Nyandia, Miss KeMU 2011 and Miss Congeniality Kenya 2012.

J J J

The Day I Nearly didn't give To the poor...

Ladies and Gentlemen, I write this with and in pain and with shame, but not of what I have done but of what is done to you.

As you go to work or get off work, you just want to go to the stage, take a matatu or a bus, sit quietly by yourself, with your earphones and wait for the conductor to religiously collect your fares and then get back to your quiet bus/matatu ride to your home stage.  But many a time, it is not so. We have psychological and mental torture shoved down our souls and throats in the name of beggars who have this and that sickness and are always a few coins away from a serious and repairing medical procedure. Also,  you may also get some weird preacher who claims to have healed so many people in a certain hospital that it is on the verge of closedown for the lack and decrease in patient numbers. He then goes ahead and tries to guilt your soul and spirit into sadaka aka offerings with verses and testimonies.  IT IS NOT FAIR.

Jesus gave to the poor and healed the sick and he asked us to emulate him. He also shunned thieves and robbers. I was shocked to learn that some of these beggars and pastors indeed have 'contracts' with the bus owners who get a commission of what you and I give. Very few and I mean a minute percentage of these sick and dying ever have any intention of seeking medical attention. I mean, after that? What are they supposed to live on? What are they supposed to do? Fend for themselves? God forbid they lift a finger!!!! Heavens shun if they break a bead of sweat!

The reason I write this is the fact that I just took a bus home and in here was a young man with severe celebral palsy;can barely talk and walk and he somehow convinced the bus owners to let him in and once the bus started moving, he was up; barely being able to walk, giving papers on which his life and photo is printed and insisting on getting money.  I am angry, not because of his condition but because I met him 4 years ago, in a Ngong road bus doing the very same thing insisting, if my memory serves me well that he needed funds for treatment. Ofcourse we know celebral palsy has none but they have doctors and physiologists who assists improve your motor sensory system.  Oh and boy did we give! One look at the young man and you'd burst into tears. I was so a much affected mentally and psychologically and prayed so often. Two years down, I met him again in the same buses along Ngong Rd and now 4 years down the line, here he was along Thika Rd. I guess people along Ngong Rd had known him and his sham. Because second time round nobody even looked at him.

So here I was. At the middle seat of the farthest from the front seat texting the bae, letting him know what I was seeing while expressing my frustrating experience and also trying to seem busy as I was so angry. He came straight at me, and handed me his paper, I tried to ignore but all neighboring eyes pierced me, bullets aside. Everyone was giving, sighing in sympathy and whispering among themselves. Oh if they only knew. He then shouted at me to take it and read it, the only way he could.  And more eyes came my way. I reached out to my pockets and got 50 Ksh and gave the 'poor guy'. Estimated, this guy makes around a minimum of 1000 from each bus. And God knows we have buses in plenty. Per day, you want to try calculate how much he makes? How about per month?  Don't even try annual earnings lest you'll die of shock. He probably makes 100 times more than you do, oh and wait... It is all tax free! This young man most probably has a bungalow and land to his name.

Personally, I know quite a number of people suffering with different disabilities but are gurus in what they do. Lord! I know one who makes 90% of  websites look like a joke. Also, we have people with serious illness: Lupus, Cancers, Diabetes, Rheumatoid and Osteo Arthritis but go to work every day, probably in intense pain and work their assets off. I say this because I know it. I live it.  These people and others do not use their conditions to sham and guilt and manipulate their way to a day off. Many a time I hide my sick off forms from the doctor and go to work because I have to make a living. Not once have I been summoned in the name of feigning sickness. Oh if they only knew. So I work my ass off, with inflamed joints, severe chronic colitis and S. L. E. and BTW my doctor, among the best Rheolumatologists in the country Dr. Simani, is a person living with disability. You should all meet him. Then see what I'm talking about. Mine, is the story of hundreds and probably thousands.

My dear readers, I do not forbid giving to the poor. But let's just try be wise at it. Let's quit enriching shameless pervs who are most probably waaay wealthier than 15 of us in a bus combined.  God knows I'm a sucker for them and the puppy eyes. Do what I try doing once in a while, I take one of them out for lunch. Especially the kids. Oh it's so much fun, you learn so much and thank God so much for what you have because to them, you're probably the wealthiest man alive.

Blessings and Affection,

Nyandia.

FILM LAUNCH AND BAPTISM SUNDAY

Dear Readers,

Being the sole introvert that I am, the lone wolf, hearing that I actually was out on a Friday night for whatsoever reason should be worth a Nobel. If you know of the Rwandan Genocide of 1994, you may also have known or heard of Emmanuel Twagirimana; the man who died from bomb shrapnel and seven days later woke up, body all rotten and full of maggots and recounted his death experience of both heaven and hell. Get this, in high school, my Mom bought the book ‘7 DAYS IN HEAVEN’ and I was intrigued and shocked at the same time and I always thought to myself on how I’d love to meet the man himself…and Now, here I was meeting, talking, hugging this man. Remember my previous writing on how life is composed of dots and with patience and discipline, you will somehow find the string attaching each and every experience and making all sense? Here was one of those moments.

Now, the question I am getting from people when they learn that I got baptized this Sunday is, you’ve never been baptized?! Why? Kwani your parents? If you’re of the Pentecost church, you should know that babies are not baptized; they’re dedicated. Mainly because baptism is a very personal and intimate step towards learning more of Christ and being like him. So my answer is, yes I had been baptized but back then I didn’t know what it really was, how much baptism weighs and how personal it is. And now, Now I know and I pray it be the beginning of a new and fresh chapter of my life.

Faith, my loves is a personal experience. Sometimes it is even hard to explain it and can only be expressed and lived as a culture, as a way of life. So here is to the New me; a new life, a new book, a new chapter.

Blessings and love,

Nyandia.