Who Really Uses Parenting Guides?

I hate parenting guides. I hate school(Who invented school? who taught the first person about gathering a bunch of kids and wasting their childhood is rooms.) because it sucks and given a chance to go back in time and will forego school.

I will look for children my age, we’ll play and have fun and sleep.

When planting season came, I would work on the farm and go the community market in the afternoon to waste time talking about the next day planting event at the next farm. Laziness.

At the age of marriage, I will chase the neighbour’s girl and marry her and have children and train my kids to be innovative and forget about working for a bank or the government.

If we go back, there would definitely be no NGOs to work for, and people would love one another.

I know it is important to go to school, but I don’t think it’s essential to wholly focus on going to school. Lately, the focus has shifted from more realistic goals of self-motivation, improvement and triggering the sense of innovation to merely defined living. Taking 8 glasses of water daily like the guy next to me. Schooling to get a white colour job like the guy whose story appeared on Daily Nation.

Who wrote the parenting guides?Who follows the guide? Fuck the idea that there is a way children should be raised. Children should be left to learn. The best way of parenting is helping your kids through their choices. Let them learn from the consequences of the choices they make. No one should lecture anyone on parenting. Same way I say there is no blueprint to being successful. Focus on the choices you make whether they help you and destroy you.

No one should lecture anyone on parenting. Same way I say there is no blueprint to being successful in life. Focus on the choices you make whether they help you and destroy you.

Let them learn from the consequences of the choices they make. No one should lecture anyone on parenting. Same way I say there is no blueprint to being successful. Focus on the choices you make whether they help you and destroy you.

Secrets About Parenting I learnt the hard way

Do people google how to parent their children? I know people have more experience than I do and I don’t believe people Google parenting. People search online how to do things.

However, I have always sought the advice of a paediatrician whenever our son was ill. You should too.

Your child learns from you. So try to do the right thing.

A child’s brain develops with time. As you continue helping your child discover the world, know that more than 75% of what the child does is dependent on parenting.

I have learnt to thank my wife after every meal profoundly for him to learn to be thankful. Try to take care of everything, do the right thing at all time in the presence of your child. Children trail their parents to know how to do things.

Create family routines like eating time, sleeping time, morning routine.

We never used to pray before we slept. My wife used to go to bed earlier, and I would follow later after hours of creating this content.

Then one time I decided to to go to be early. So we all retire at the same time. Then I ask my wife to pray. The second day, Ethan reminded us to sleep together and before sleeping, pray together.

Delegate to your child some tasks. Delegating makes the child feel honoured and loved and Valued

Our son is in charge of some duties in the house. He makes sure then curtains are open and closed depending on the time of the day. He switches off and on the lights accordingly. I see him feel so elated whenever he does his job.

We, sometimes, clash over who should zip his mother’s dress when she is dressing up, but I am okay.

Children understand better when you let them handle some tasks in the house. Teaching your kids to deal with chores around the house makes them more responsible.

Children, even those still learning to communicate, will use the potty and remind or call you to dispose of the poop. Aren’t they awesome?


Joblessness Teaching me How to be a Father

I quit my job to learn to look for another job. It has been a month and my first lesson is to teach and be a father.

I didn’t think I’ll ever punish my son since I am too soft. I am an IFNJ; a personality type. INFJs are a caring bunch and good listeners to boot. Kind and affirming, I make others feel safe around me and tend to have a good many insights into people. Ask my wife and my friend Bruce.

So my son refused to eat, and I said, “That’s okay by me. We shall see who dies of hunger.”

He looks at me and repeats the last word I said, in Swahili. We use Swahili a lot around the house. The next thing is, am so mad I want to spank him.

His mother says “no.” which means, “he is too young.” I hesitated. You know what? he wakes his mother when everyone is asleep because he is hungry. His mother can’t wake up without waking me up. So it becomes a family problem.

My son is two and a half, cheeky with some level of phobia for food. He has mastered every last word in television ads. He’s hard to feed though he feeds under duress. His mother threatens to punish him every day but he ignores her and he does it again. And again. Then he started ignoring me too. So I made my mind to start spanking him.

“Your mom says you eat,” I say with a firm voice.

“You, I will spank you and stop talking.” (in Swahili) My son answers back shouting at the top of his babyish voice.

Then I look at his mother’s face. She looks away and vanishes into the kitchen. She leaves me furious. I turn to my son and tell him he shouldn’t talk back while his parents are talking to him. He speaks back the same words I used and then tries to fight me.

I was sure that it was time for his lesson. I grab his hand. Turn to his buttocks and inflict a sizable amount of pain with a neat calculated spunk. He immediately screamed in pain running towards the kitchen. His mother is a bit concerned.

“That was too much!” She said.

“That was only one. Enough to help him differentiate serious talk and joke.” I responded

She takes him in her arms. He realizes his mother is not sufficiently sympathetic, He runs into the bedroom and jumps into the bed. He fell asleep. He wakes up two hours later and asks for food. He wiped the plate clean.

Being a father is a call that needs firmness to show love and care for the little one. I am a first time Dad, and so is my wife and we are trying to bring up a responsible citizen and we pray that God helps us.

My Birthday is Wrong, I have makeshift names..

I grew up in my grandmom house. She didn’t know my two names. She knew one of my names which everyone knew.She probably didn’t  know me well. I don’t blame her though. So when I joined nursery school, there was the need for me to have several names which I didn’t have. My teacher, Ms. Agnes Kwamboka insisted that I should have a second name if not third and fourth. No one has one name.

She asked me, “Where do you come from? What’s your father’s name?”

Obviously, I didn’t know, and the answer I could give was…keep quiet until she speaks again. I wasn’t planning to speak anything because I did not know anything. That was back in 1993.

She asked me to come with my grandma the following day. Luckily grandma wasn’t far from school at that time. So after class, I went and passed the message that the teacher wanted to see her. She couldn’t wait until the next day.

She met my teacher, and the problem was I didn’t know my second name. No one in the class knew. To my amazement, my grandmother didn’t know. She couldn’t answer the question either because my mother calls me Musa, that’s all.

My grandmother asked my uncle to send a telegram to my mom seeking details about her son who was now starting school. My uncle agreed to do, but he didn’t see any sense being out of class because I didn’t have a name. He said, “let him use mine, He will be called Musa Wafula.”

Ms. Kwamboka said “Well that’s okay, but Musa is a Swahili name and its better for him to have an English name. I am changing his name to Moses.” She turned to me, “ So because your uncle agreed to share his name with you, you will be Moses Wafula” and I agreed. That’s how I got my name.

My mother came after about a year, and when asked, she gave me a different set of names that never existed in the whole village, Musa not being one of them. That was crazy. WTF is Bethwell Molenje. People are named after people in my community. My uncle Patrick was equally astonished though we couldn’t change anything.

Then came time to be registered for lower Primary. There was no birthdate, no cell phones and the only way to get my birth details was to wait for my mother. What Mr. Likavo does is to look at me said,

“ You are almost the same age as my son Alphonse. I will use the same year he was born, the precise birthdate you will figure out in future”.

I nodded in agreement and said, “yes teacher.” Those days teachers explained and taught in mother tongue, Although I was brought up in a cosmopolitan county where people communicated in Swahili, my native language was a must lest I lose my identity. The county hosted different tribes who coexisted well then. So my teacher explained in both languages. My native Luhya and Swahili to make sure I understood.

When my mother came from Mombasa where she had been working, no one remembered to ask my birthday, and she went back. After finishing primary school, I had to get leaving certificate which had to bear my correct birthdate. My mom wasn’t there, my grandmother had joined her in Mombasa, and I had no means to reach them. My uncle was married then and was away working in Nairobi.

I stayed in the village with his wife and son. Hypothetically, I was on my own. I had to figure out a birth date and stick to it the rest of my life. I chose 22 September because most of my friends were born that month, I couldn’t copy their dates, so I chose 22. The standard birth year for most of us was 87, so I stuck with 87. Hence 22/09/1987.

That stuck in my head and when I joined high school down the coast. I realized most people fancied their birthdays. I had a makeshift birthday, so birthdays never meant anything to me. I found people enjoyed that day. I asked my mom what my birthdate is and she said,

“The day I went to be registered for my ID. That should be 19th or 20th. Because after leaving the Chief’s office, I got labor pains and you were born”  I tried to convince her that it should be 22 and she said no. I had failed the first test.

“which month?” I asked curiously because this was going to make the difference.

“ You were conceived when I was on holiday from school. That was the end of December during those festivities, so the correct month is September because that is the  month I took my ID.” I was like “Yeaaaaaa’’ At least I got the month.

“So which year Mom?” I asked this time I was sure I got it right.

I joined form one in 1985; I came home for a holiday then I was expectant. You were born the year I was supposed to be in form two.”

“1986?” Shit.

I got the year wrong too. But I managed to get the month right. So both my birthdays, adopted and real birthday, happened last month. Now I work as a salesman with a local bank, and I have a son, Ethan, who will be celebrating his first birthday this month.

At least he won’t go through the hustles I went through to fix my names. And by the way, I had to get another name, because the guy registering for IDs had refused to give me an ID without my father’s ID. And you realized I hadn’t mentioned my father anywhere. So I got my stepfathers ID and fixed the name thing.