The Start of a Journey

 Even though his life was devoted to medicine, it was consumed by literature, medicine was his lawful wife, but literature was his mistress...

Getting into 2024 with my blog finally on its feet has been among the most delightful thoughts for me. Jumping that precipice certainly took a lot of courage and pushing. Among the many things that have encouraged me along this path, is the desire to be a voice worth listening to. As I continue to learn my craft, I hope to be able to write in a manner that’s real and authentic. Sincerely speaking, I have been a little surprised to have amassed an audience even when many of my stories and articles are a little bit amateurish and unpolished. I was afraid that I would write and be the only one to do the reading, but right now, especially when my mentors and friends have urged me along, my passion has in some way been rekindled. For these three months or so that have gone by, I have had to question whether I was in some sense qualified to speak on and address any of the matters I thought myself to have an opinion on. But I am realizing that the most important and right thing to do is to be real and sincere in every one of my discourses, only giving an honest review of whatever topic I handle. Quite remarkably, and a little counter-intuitively, I have had to also learn from my earlier articles, a proof that personally, I am also not out of the wilderness I often vividly describe.

Having a platform that gives a number of people beyond your ordinary circle of friends and classmates an opportunity to peak into your life is a little intimidating. It is as if I have subscribed to a level of performance which I fear I may not measure up to. After my essays and articles draw feelings of awe and delight from readers, it sure will be a great disappointment when they finally get to see how dorky and uninteresting I am in person. But that isn’t a big deal, because personally, I believe I am a great guy. Wait! Did I just lie? I hope I didn’t.

Having a platform that gives a number of people beyond your ordinary circle of friends and classmates an opportunity to peak into your life is a little intimidating…

Most of the feedback so far has been positive, aside from a little expression of discontent about the high-planed jargon that becomes distracting once in a while and sometimes makes my arguments esoteric and indecipherable. I hope to definitely work on that.  Notwithstanding, the appreciation and ‘wows’ has been a source of great encouragement especially considering the doubt that almost made me want to keel over when I set out for this particular journey. As I forecast on how this particular commitment to write will pan out as the months of this year unfold, I am mostly unsure if I would have made the impact I hope to make with writing, especially with all the dedication to academic work that my third year of medical school seems to be soliciting. Anton Chekhov, that great Russian writer alongside Leo Tolstoy, is a great inspiration to me in this regard. Even though his life was devoted to medicine, it was consumed by literature as one man put it. Once, he said that medicine was his lawful wife, but literature was his mistress. It’s clear that my desire and quest to be excellent in both frontiers will be a tough and challenging one, but I am hoping to learn great lessons of stamina and persistence.

It’s already clear to me that I can go far in neither pursuits except all of you have my back, and I humbly request for help. As you read, please do not withhold any form of feedback even if it seems as though I may not like it. Every critical review will go a long way to improve every argument and keep me on track. I am not expecting this journey to be static and without any surprises, I know I may have to step into uncomfortable places that will challenge me to learn and grow. If I happened to be the one following through these articles, I would have most certainly expected nothing short of excellence in the man behind the pen. But even while I regard excellence as one of my core values, my experience so far might have been everything but that. That has made me question a lot and inspired some sought of imposter syndrome that might have precipitated the mental breakdowns I have had at some points in my life. I have mostly expected myself to perform exceptionally well in the areas I committed myself to, but as that has not always been the case, it is now a question of whether I would manage to keep a reasonable reading audience, especially now considering how people would rather do anything else than read inane and unpromising articles.

This uncertainty has been  a little disturbing, but in these few days I have gotten to speak to some of my closest friends who have been keen to urge me to keep at my work. In some regard, they have been the voice of God that has reminded me that it is the Lord working in me for his pleasure. I am getting to see that what I have to do is to obediently answer to His will, and strive to be a blessing to every person my writing will get to. I am therefore confident that this endeavor will turn out amazingly well, not to mean that it will be without its ups and downs. Even if it does not, I will be glad I took the journey, and I will be happy to step back and probably re-prioritize. Whatever failure I will stumble into, it would certainly only be part of the many lessons I will get to learn, and it would be therefore careless and ungrateful to whine or fret over them. 

As you read, please do not withhold any form of feedback even if it seems as though I may not like it.

Thank you so much for being one of my readers, please stay with me in this journey, and let us grow and help one another, for as iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of another. Once again,  I confess that I really need everyone's feedback despite how inconsequential you might think it to be. I would really be grateful if you could personally reach out to me as regarding anything about this blog, or even anything aside it, we never know what will come out of such conversations. Furthermore, I am a firm believer that if someone has something to say, the most prudent and courteous thing to do is listen. I learn so little as I talk, or even as I write, but I know I will learn so much as I ponder on everyone of your suggestions and input. So, let’s talk! If you have a story you would love to share, or if you would love to do an article as a co-writer once in a while, please reach out to me. Thank you for all your kind and encouraging words so far, I hope we always have fun together. Let’s make every story come alive, because this is Litnerd Letters.

I am writing a piece that I hope will be my first short story soon. It is a story about the experiences of a medical student at the University of Nairobi, Henry, who has to face the challenge and demands of med school with great commitment and courage, while at the same time bear the disappointment of his unrequited love for a lady he has grown to adore so much to the extent of helplessly associating every single one of his misfortunes with her. It is a story of growth and transformation, as  Henry expresses how medical school has reshaped his perspective on intelligence and hard work, and how loving someone who doesn’t love him back teaches him the true meaning of love. The title of the series is a little facetious and may draw people away from the story, but as Henry shares his story, it takes a keen eye to see how his pain and failure prepare him for the next season of his life. The story is inspired from my real-life experiences, and from Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s literary classic Love in the time of Cholera, where Florentino Ariza waits for more than fifty years when Fermina Daza will finally let him into her life again. Make sure to subscribe to the blog so that you never miss an episode, nor miss the excitement and suspense that every episode builds. 

Read every episode in order from the links below.

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Join the Journey

Flurried Flowers

I turned twenty-one on the 27th of October. Until then I had been telling myself the same story about how little I cared about birthdays. In the past few years, I had behaved with indifference towards a particularly important day in my life and had consequently inspired the same apathetic feelings in my closest friends. If I didn't care, why should they? If I didn't care about their birthdays, why should they care about mine? The incurable disease of me was making me craft a version of myself that was a lie. It is embarrassing to admit that no one can beat me at deceiving myself. I would have thousands of medals if they were given to those who managed to craft and entertain lies about themselves, about their abilities and importance. While I have been traipsing around as though I am a whole human being, I am in fact broken and a real mess. 

In his remarkable book Digital Minimalism, Carl Newport points out how social media today is tuned to accurately provide us with a rich stream of information about how much, or little, our friends and peers are thinking about us at a particular moment. As much as this is really hurting our sense of internal worth, it has encouraged stratospheric degrees of solipsism. Most people are now convinced about their importance and are after making impressions, without realizing that it really isn’t the same as being impressive. Given that we can make a name for ourselves without doing any actual, reasonable or commendable work, many have opted for the easy way, which is not without its consequences.

While everyone is attracted to excellence, the thought that someone, especially our peers, is better than us is not something we seem to be having an easy time stomaching. How come their lives are so beautiful, so perfect, while ours has been reduced to scrolling and liking. The thought that my closest friends were making great leaps in their lives while I was still thinking of a clever caption to add to the best picture I had carefully selected from a clutter of terrible ones was disturbing. I was supposed to be the one going abroad, I was supposed to be the one receiving the honors for having come up with the best project, I was supposed to be the one being applauded. While I had frittered away time and procrastinated on my Pathology assignment by watching meaningless videos on YouTube, was I really supposed to be the one on the stage receiving the prizes in the first place?

When I came online I was supposed to connect, but here I was comparing, deriding those I thought to be loose for talking about their troubles, censuring and labeling, until I saw her meet delegates and discuss ideas that had the potential to change the course of the world, then I could finally see how useless and stupid I was. She was worried about her project while I was worried that though I had thousands of messages in my WhatsApp groups, my DM was empty; apparently people didn't even want to talk to me. It wasn't that I was stupid, in fact if our academic achievements were to be compared, everyone would clearly see that I was the intelligent one. But was I really? I was doing myself a disservice by thinking academic achievements equated to life accomplishment. Instead of applying myself to work, I was mulling over the thought of my capabilities and qualifications.

Notwithstanding, there are people on the other side of the divide, who instead of working resort to think of how incapable they are, most probably because someone insulted them or spoke with derision regarding their failures. Both groups of people — those who can't stop thinking of how good they are, and those who have convinced themselves of how terrible they are at everything — are no better than the other. In fact, they have one thing in common, they are not doing the work.

Talking about censure, I believe that we will never earn the love and respect of everyone, nor do we need it. The most important thing is that we actually get meaningful work done. We can actually turn people's smirks into a source of motivation and inspiration to work. When people don't believe in you, it  means you have the potential of disproving them. And I think that is far much better than disappointing those who thought highly of your abilities.

That friend who talked to you with derision, that teacher who said you would never do well in their subject, that disappointed parent who opted to focus on your other siblings, all these are people you can disprove, and such a prospect should be enough to get you on the treadmill. When we make mistakes, we receive important feedback about what doesn't work. We may never know what does work, but as we go along we will certainly have the opportunity to know what doesn't. After his masterpiece sculptor of King David, Michelangelo informed the awestruck Pope that he had only curved out the parts that weren't David. We could apply the same intelligence, and avoid endeavors that don't amount to anything. Yet we would only know what doesn't work if we fail. I want to fail. I want to make mistakes. Because I would have known the dead end. The wrong way to go.

When we compare ourselves, something that is impossible not to do today thanks to Instagram and WhatsApp statuses, we make ourselves believe that we are the same. We fail to see how the context and circumstances of our lives are not anything like that of the people we see to be better and accomplished. And this is the place I get to advance the particularly trite saying that life is an exam and we all have different question papers. Frost speaks of taking the path less trodden on, the beautiful thing that impresses me anytime I revisit this masterpiece (if you don't know of The Road Not Taken, you probably skipped highschool 😂) is when he said, “and that has made all the difference.” What worked for others may not really work for you. If we insist that we have to be like others, we will go to bed every night reminded of our unworthiness and inabilities. We need to love our flaws and our scars because those are what make us distinct and special, they are things no one else will ever have, at least not in the same way we do. You can't be as perfect as that friend. Someone else will always be prettier, someone else will be brilliant, someone else will always have the guys asking after her. These people may have what may seem to be a better life, but they are not you. They are not you because you do not know what price they have paid, what value they have compromised. He may have the cash, but he probably has a parent with cancer as well, he may always be the best in class but he probably also watches his dad abuse and hit his mom. You will always want to be someone else until you become that person, then you realize your own portion of the medicine was actually the less bitter one. We see people not as they are but as they appear to be; appearances are deceiving. A sense of complete achievement is something we will never have. We are not wired that way. Millionaires want to be billionaire's, so you probably know what billionaire's want to be…

Our worth showcases itself when we attach ourselves to a purpose instead of blindly following a passion. Passion deplete us, purpose defines us. While passions distract us, purpose describes us. Passion is what we want to be, purpose is what we want and have to do.

We all want to be something, but we don't want to do anything. It is what we do that will make the world a better place. We could become the next richest man on earth, but if we don't leverage that for the good of the planet, it was all for nought, and maybe we should never even have been born in the first place. When we want to be something or someone, we get busy instead of being productive. We begin to hate people who do well just because we aren't as accomplished and fulfilled as they are. However, when we begin to get things done, when we finally do something instead of trying to be something, we find peace and respite in our work. We begin to see that we are not what is important, we realize it is our work which is. That it is not us who change the world, it is our work which does. We are only vessels, and our work is the content. No matter how beautiful the vessel that carries trash is, the contents will forever remain to be trash. 

Instead of wanting to be like Henry, please do your work. If you get to know me you probably will shun me like a plague. My life is a mess. I am usually confused for nearly half of my wake-day. I am not sure about where my life is heading. I have ruined the best relationships I think I will ever be in. I have disappointed my mentors and insulted their efforts and sacrifice in coaching me. I have been careless with the relationship I have with my family, especially my mother. My standoffish personality has turned friends away from me. My life is not anything anyone will ever want. It is the quintessential portrayal of a messed up and carelessly lived life. A compilation of mistakes and compromises. I am hoping to convince you that I am a student of these things of which I speak. Be you. Do not be me or anybody else. Love your flaws. You aren't faultless, but you are blameless. I will employ a simple caveat at this point by pointing out that I’m not a Pollyanna trying to inspire complacency and inaction. By now, you should actually already have seen that I am very much against the epicurean attitude of loving pleasure and avoiding inconveniences. I am in fact asking you to do one of the most difficult things; own your flaws; accept your mistakes and inadequacies. Take responsibility, because as much as it may not be your fault that you are so messed up, it's still your problem anyway. No one is going to pop out of your screen and put your house in order for you, so you could as well as put your phone down and go work. (Enda ufanye kazi😂, feilya! feilya!) The parenthetic is a joke not everyone will get, but it's really relatable. Go work!

I believe I have learnt the greatest lessons because I have made the greatest mistakes. I love more, because I have been forgiven more. Woe unto the person who goes through the toughest trials and is no better after. Make sure to learn your lessons because life will never stop teaching. Don't let your darkest nights be your dumbest, the night teaches lessons the day will never reveal. Walk out of the fire better and braver. Emily Dickinson happens to be my favorite poet, though my favorite poem is actually Where the sidewalk ends by Shel Silverstein. In Success is counted sweetest, Dickinson carefully reminds us that success is sweetest to those who never succeed, and to know the sweetness of nectar requires the sorest need. Sweet victory is the afterfruit of a bitter battle. A good night's rest only follows a greatly tiring day. Life would be bleak if it were all roses. Appreciate tribulation, because it defines your victory. 

Do not give up. Learn to rest when you get tired. When you fail and get disappointed, stop and investigate the failure, then leverage the feedback for another attack. (Ukisema unaanza usiku, anza, usilale!😂) Try your best not to fall for the temptation of extrapolating your life. Do not use a single moment to define your life. I love how Roald Dahl kicks off the preface of his autobiography Going Solo, he says: “A life is made up of a great number of small incidents and a small number of great ones.” 

This moment is not your life, it is a moment in your life. Bad days are normal, be intelligent enough to know they will pass. A night may seem not to end  but we are sure there still will be dawn. The other side of the coin is just as valid; dark nights follow bright days. There cannot be one without the other. Because you had a bad day doesn't mean you have a bad life. We really don't know what it means to have a bad day. People with the worst lives don't have bad days, they only have days. We have bad days because at one point in time we had good days. To know what is bad means to have known what is good.

I hope to encourage you to get out there and do something worthwhile with your life. You will mess up, but you will be glad you tried something anyway. Always remember not to be anyone else but yourself, you have your own niche to fill. In your whole life you will never meet another Madaga. This is the only Henry who you will ever know. I am unique. I am special. I am a Child of God. I am not anybody else.

Neither are you.

Why I am still a Mess.

When I emerged eighth best in KCSE 2020, I thought my life would completely turn around. That was enough evidence of my intelligence, and in my experience the intelligent always ace it in life. My whole family had been enthralled; it was glorious to have someone so brilliant in the family. Swamped up in my own achievement, I forgot that it was only an affirmation of my victory at that specific checkpoint in my life, and well, I would still have thousands of such checkpoints in future. I could not see it at that point; I am tempted to think many people wouldn't. Needless to say, I am now envious of all those people who never made it to the top ten nationally at that time.

When almost three years after what was considered a colossal achievement and my life is still fraught with financial constraints and what I would call emotional dyscrasia — I beg the forgiveness of the medical fraternity for using the term, but I am typing this at 2 a.m instead of reading Haematology and I cannot think of any other appropriate word, not that there isn't — I can't help but wonder ( Eh! I wonder 😂) why life has been so unfair to me. Most of my once closest friends and fellow comrades seem to have made great strides in diverse fields, in a holistic sense that is, while I still struggle to keep afloat, especially financially if I am to be sincere about it.

Yet I have failed to realize that whenever I set my life in contrast with other people's, I am always reminded of my inadequacies no matter how beautiful my life is. Recently, however, it has become clear how endless comparison is responsible for our constant depression, disquieting feeling of underachievement, and resentfulness. By becoming overly invested in other people's lives we have stopped working on our own altogether, and have been blinded from seeing the flowers that decorate our own landscapes. We end up forgetting how far we have come, how God has been faithful, and how thousands of people were never fortunate as we are. Because we want to be perfect, to be seen as perfect we have only managed to become insecure and strangely fragile to all forms of censure or criticism. We have ended up attaching our value on other people's perception of us.

Apparently, we seem to have forgotten that even our most dearest of friends are fickle and undependable at times, and so are we ourselves. That doesn't mean that we should stop loving or hoping. To fail and be failed again and again and still live with the assurance that all will work out for our good takes the highest form of courage. To believe that we are actually made for success and are in fact worthy of good things takes more confidence than the resentment we nurse towards those who have done better than us. No matter what we achieve, there will always be someone else that will be better than us, in one aspect or another. We all have our races and could as well as stick to our own lanes. We should focus on improving ourselves instead of wasting energy comparing ourselves to others.

Personally, I think the people who live the most disappointing and unfulfilling lives are those who want to be considered flawless and seen as perfect by their mates. We have grown ashamed of our scars when in fact confidence comes from embracing our flaws and faults, and owning them. When we expect other people to affirm us and support us at every instant, we painfully set ourselves up for disappointment. We are our own best buddies and our own worst enemies. We are the only ones who are to blame for our mess, to point fingers is proof of how we have failed to love and trust ourselves. We have derogatorily labeled most people jerks but it's disturbing how we still  crave their approval.

We should never look down on ourselves simply because other people looked down on us. We will never earn the approval of the 7 billion people on earth and we could do ourselves a favor and well, dispense with it. In fact criticism is meant to advance us. We are the ones who take it as an affront when really it is an important feedback that is meant to inform how we are to proceed. Marcus Aurelius put it candidly when he said, “Choose not to be harmed—and you won’t feel harmed. Don’t feel harmed—and you haven’t been.” 

As we entertain glorious and high thoughts about ourselves, we would do well to remind ourselves that people do not think of us that way. Neither should we attach our self value to other people's opinions but instead focus on our work. We have work to do, and if we never take criticism positively, we may never know what it is that we need to improve on — criticism is important for recalibration, but it should be taken within the precincts of self-awareness.

I believe the choice is ours.