My Mirror!

You'll all (and especially ladies) agree with me that looking at the mirror can be quite fulfilling. Especially when you're deeply contented with yourself. It's the best feeling that you can ever instill in your inner self. The great feeling you get from seeing yourself from another perspective, your own eyes. The conviction that you're wonderfully made or that you're the most beautiful/ handsome being. Uhm! at least by your own standards. However, it can equally be an awful experience. I mean, how many times have you stared at a mirror and ended up feeling worse than you initially felt. Like you're not good enough. Well, this story is not about all these. It's about the mirror, my mirror!

Why do I call her my mirror, the mirror and not just a mirror? I don't see any other adjective as befitting as 'mirror' to describe my mama. She is reflection of my persona. No, Its the other way round. Make me the subject. Everything good I do is as a result of her hard-work and desire to make me a better me. I actually dedicate every success that I achieve in life to her. Well, assuming I am as successful in reality as I brag to be. I always try and aspire to be like her, in my spiritual life and the way I relate with others. You should by now be wondering why am such a friendly guy and why I laugh so much. It's all down to mama's efforts.

  My sister with mama

Many of you would find it awfully absurd to spend 3 minutes on a phone call laughing all the way to that annoying beep from Safaricom. The one that says your airtime is below 2 shillings and literally dictates such concluding statements as, 'aki naskia kulala, ntakucall kesho.' Well, that's what happens when am talking to mama over the phone and Ive never considered it insane. Many times guys will be on my case asking me, 'unacheka nini?' and it kills me so bad. I mean, is my laughter so irritating or do you mistake it for exasperation.

Another reason for the mirror tag is that she acts as a moderator in keeping me in check. I look up to her to legitimize me when I go wrong. She is literally the Richter scale in my life, dealing with all checks and balances. She is always the first person to whisper to me that, 'hey son, you got it all wrong here. How about you do it this way?' And she is not afraid to say that to me twice, or thrice. I can write about her over and over again but for now, I hope you find yourself someone to call the mirror.