The Son of a Tailor

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I am a son of a tailor poor in the eyes of the society yet rich in the eyes of God, my mother the tailor makes clothes for the whole town she makes them shine and look admirable fashionable and on the current trade as possible yet she can not afford to make a single dress for herself, simply because she cannot afford  a material to make one despite having all the equipments.


I am a son of a tailor whose legs are always swollen and sometimes she can barely walk because she spends 20 hours on the sewing machine trying to finish up every order she gets even   or else she won’t get paid, late at night when everyone is sleeping she is agonising in pain her blood pressure is up her eyes are tired and her body is soo weak just like a soldier who has just escaped death.

I am that son of a tailor who despite all this pain she forces herself to smile and pretend that everything is okay while at night she covers her head with the pillow and cries with pain because of the swollen legs, I can  hear her crying  and most of the time well coz of the pain in her torn soul, I Join her  but I never want to show her that I know what  is going on! nor will I want her to see me crying because my great grandfather(Grandpa Gachanja major)told me that men never cry, she cries not only because of the pain but because she has no Idea what her four children will eat, wear or even  where they will sleep if she does not get enough cash the following day.

I am the son of a tailor who is seen as a curse in the society simply because his mother is poor, they see impossibilities in me, yet they don’t know what am capable of, they see failure because success to them is defined on how much wealth or cash you can accumulate, but they don’t they see  power that is in me, (hehe poor lost generation )they don’t see that I can be there only hope come one day because I know that I might be useless in front of their eyes yet I might be the only source of Kemet wisdom my brain could be rich than that of Mensa Musa but  I don’t blame them it is the way they have been negatively programmed to look in one direction even if it is leading them to hell.

I am that son of that poor tailor whom they laugh at every single day when they are being driven to school while I walk to school but I don’t blame them, if only they could know how many beautiful  things I encounter  with while walking which are provided free by mother nature, like the ladybirds, flowers, the hardworking bees and termite as they work foot and mouth to finish their work yet they don’t complain, the sweet melodies sang by the hornbill birds,  the soothing beutical feeling created by the water flowing from different patrs of the town (swaaaaash)they live to eat, while I eat to live yet they call me poor, ooooooh!!!!! I forgot to them success is defined in wealth and money not the beautiful  things nature can offer, the good long life you get when you walk every day, and the happiness you feel when you smile back at the nature when you realize how blessed you are.


I am that son of a tailor who prefers not to go to where the path may lead and end up just like this other normal boring human beings, but rather follow my own path of happiness, and leave a train so that the future generations can follow, because if being happy is brought by wealth then Bill Gates won’t be busy looking for more to an extent of creating biological warfare like Ebola just for the sake of money, its like when he dies the money will buy him enternal life in heaven .

I am that son of a tailor who believes and lives by what Bob Malley  once said that money is just like number s  never ends. If it takes money to be happy tyour searcharch for happiness will never end.

As a son of a tailor, I urge you to find what makes you happy just like my mother (the tailor) made me believe never follow the crowd but create your own, be a king of your own empire after all the society if all Rotten.


Rise above    one kanyakla (for us by us )





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