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She stole my heart as my genuine friend. I could not but help to refer to her as a person I could not live without. Christine was an extraordinary figure who many could envy. When we became friends during our college days, she was a blank page in my life.
In the short time that we knew each other, Christine was an exceptional, witty and charismatic person. Her principled stands in life always showed what was missing in most of today's human family. To me, I should confess, she was a source of inspiration and a fountain of hope. I viewed her as the best thing that ever happened to me. Her radiance provided my life with warmth and sustenance, literally. At times I believed that she was the flower that never dies and she bloomed in the garden of my heart.
Christine was an epitome of diligence, beauty, discipline and excellence. Always taciturn when things went awry and exquisitively shared a few words to say no matter the provocation. Whenever I needed comfort and a shoulder to lean on, I did not need to look any further. She seemed to have this inner elucidation to solving every predicament that befell me. Her easy courteous manner, very confident posture, smart efficiency and remarkable memory, made her a natural trouble-shooter.
I specifically liked her easy manner of existing; all the time she told me how she liked associating herself with the less fortunate and children. She had a positive sense of spiritual adjustment that made her never shy away even in the face of adversity. Most times when I was down, she would confidently encourage me to face it with eyes wide open. I recall when I was an intern and my supervisor was frustrating my new ideas into the firm I was working for, it went to the point that I made up my mind to call it quits. When I told Christine, she, as usual, looked composed and told me to face the problem and not run away from it. Running from a problem, she advised, was showing how weak a person was. I followed her words and after talking diplomatically to my supervisor, he started respecting my ideas without prejudice. All this was due to Christine’s kind of charm and advice that revitalised out of every set of circumstance. Words cannot express my own understanding of Christine.
We cared for each other but in every sense, she cared for me greatly. While I was trying to live and show her how to live, she was busy telling me how to live and not to assume that I was making a life but being a part of life. Her strong sense of motivation always gave me a reason to go one more step ahead. She was unique and comprehensible in every aspect and her life was blessed in a class of her own. In real life, Christine was a pillar that I could cling onto in the turbulence of the tides; she was the most unshakable person I knew in all my life. Every challenge in my life fell on her soothing hands and more often, my tears fell on her cheeks. She would read me like a book and long before I poured my plights she already had the answer. When I won, she was amongst the first people to give me an accolade and soothe my feelings whenever I lost. When we became intimate, we would spend hours joking about nothing in particular, and at the end of the day, I would feel like we had spent a whole millennium. Saturday nights were a time for refreshing. We would go on dates, watch the just-released movies and exchange pleasantries. I would look forward to this time because my mind would move away from the tough college responsibilities.
The most striking thing about her was how she made up for lost glories. She ensured that I got a surprise out of her own intricate initiatives on issues such as my birthday. Above all, she struggled tirelessly to present a more palatable receipt on the insatiable menu of life. She held my hand even when she was exhausted; she would wipe my sweat and told me not to worry about death, since life is not permanent. I did not understand why she mentioned death yet I feared it. Her elegance, dignity and a high level of flexibility won her a lot of attention from friends and foes alike. Despite all that, I loved her greatly as a person who shall be reciprocated by my love for respecting me. We were inseparable. Our lives were intertwined in an admirable network of selflessness. I trusted her to wipe away my tears and to firmly anchor my ship when the ocean became unbearable. I did not see any reason to believe that there was anything wrong with her. An old mantra says that all that glitters is not gold. And I think it was overlooked. It should have been paraphrased as all that glitters is a virtue and not a choice.
Anne Roiphe, a writer who pursues the battle of the sexes with anti-male slogans, says most people have at a time or another been fouled up by their past patterns which tended to sink into the unconsciousness only to reappear disguised, unseen, like marionette strings, pulling this or that way. Whatever ails – keeping them awake tossing and turning all night – cannot remake unconsciousness or reshape their future, without acknowledging and shedding all the necessary and ugly skin of the past. This particular girl was indeed someone who would let you shed away ugly scales of the past, her style devoid of making you feel inferior.
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Writer Profile
Mbũrũ
I am a researcher on educational issues especially in the rural areas, with much emphasis on girls' education.
As a trained journalist, I have a lot of concern with the handling of the education sub-sector in Kenya and take a critical role in viewing the reforms currently being conducted to integrate education structures for the sake of the youth in Kenya.
One major aspect, sadly, is that Kenya has been sovereign for over four decades but has been the only African country besides Somalia not to have made education compulsory, free and basic. For Somalia it can be understood - the country had been in civil strife since 1992- but for Kenya the politics of the day have played a negative role in reducing the promotion of education to a system sheer competition, instead of progressive
Apart from that, I write fictitious literature.
Currently I am working on prose on love and betrayal and a collection of poems.
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