Grace, Giggles, and Group Chats ( FOMO)

If God ever lined up His favourites for roll‑call, I’d probably be in the front row, hand raised, clapping frantically like my life depends on it. (high claps because- hands raised)I say that partly tongue-in-cheek but ONLY PARTLY. Because every time I step back and look at the people He’s placed around me, I’m floored. Hao si  saints, lakini, honestly, if you squint past the constant banter and endless roast sessions, you can’t miss the grace dripping off my family and friends. The Lord has been more than kind.

 Over the weekend we pulled a classic “us” move. Our resident Super Producer—aka mtoto wetu, stumbled on a reel and declared, “Guys, let’s each make a full‑blown presentation about who we are and what we do. Career, life missions, visions—kila kitu.”Sasa, sisi tunajua jokes kweli? ( I hope you said Nooooooo) 

Now, you’d think these my peoples would come to wing it. AH! Wapi! Everyone showed up armed with PowerPoints, Canva slides, even one PDF that looked suspiciously like a TED Talk deck. Imagine an Annual General Meeting but with people who genuinely care and are concerned about you and above all your well being! It was a re‑introduction to ourselves, by ourselves.

Slide after slide, revelation after revelation, the verdict was loud: my friends don’t play. Sure, they’re silly actually, borderline ridiculous 98% of the time, but when it comes to their craft, their side hustles, or the causes they champion, they turn into absolute beasts. Humble beasts, but beasts all the same.

One is out here turning complex, jargon-filled information into stuff even your cucu could get, and enjoy. Another is juggling the skies (yes, literal planes) and farming with the kind of ease that makes you wonder if they cloned themselves. There's one giving Hollywood line producers a proper run for their dollars, and another casually building tech businesses like it’s just another Tuesday on the calendar.

Then there’s the one healing minds and souls through the power of education, quietly restoring whole generations. Someone else sees the world through a creative lens so futuristic, the rest of us are still trying to catch up. One is a love warrior, tried, tested, and true, who sees human scars and somehow gives them language, and then there’s the one for whom distance is merely a suggestion. Their impact? Felt deeply, even from miles away! Dripping in generosity, thoughtfulness, and a kind of kindness that bleeds right into their work.

And all this? All this brilliance? Happening while still at 2% serious!  Seeing it all laid out like that was equal parts humbling and electrifying

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Standing too close to any mirror warps the view, you notice wrinkles but miss the spark in your eyes. Friday’s showcase zoomed the lens all the way out. It was a gentle reminder that God often hides miracles in plain sight, disguising them as “FOMO” When the curtain lifted, I saw how each gift, each hustle, each quirky personality thread together into a vibrant tapestry of purpose.

As I sat there, heart bursting with admiration (and a mild case of imposter syndrome), Proverbs 27:17 whispered: “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” That’s exactly what happened—each story, each slide, knocked a little dullness off the rest of us. We left sharper, braver, and oddly lighter, reminded that our talents aren’t trophies to hide on a shelf but tools to build up the whole crew. Aka To Wandia Them!

So here’s to friends who pull up with PowerPoints, to mirrors that show the bigger picture, and to a God who keeps seating us in the front row of His grace—front‑row seats where iron keeps sharpening iron, again and again.

Nothing/No experience is wasted!

Ok, to be more specific: Nothing in the hands of the Maker is ever wasted!

The first time I heard this, I was knee-deep in one of my darkest seasons. I mean giza giza! Mwaka 2016!
And my friend, bless her heart, said to me in one of our conversations:

"Ice, I pray that this pain is not wasted."
I froze!

Yes, the irony isn’t lost on me.

For the life of me, I couldn’t fathom how that kind of pain would ever be useful.

Ah! Ah! Ah!

Give time, time—it will surprise you!

Anyway—back to the “nothing is ever wasted” bit.

Over the weekend, I was out living my best Auntie duties (a.k.a bike riding), when a memory hit me like how these bills keep coming!
See, back in the day, we lived in a “gated community.”
(Ahem—gated in the sense that they were KNH staff quarters housing.)

Huku ndio trauma ya “haves” and “have-nots” ilianza.

Sasa, there were some cool kids who had bikes.
Not just any bikes—mountain bikes.
(Ahem, if you know, you know.)
Sisi? We weren’t among the cool kids.
Basically, we didn’t have bikes.

The cool kids behaved like they held the keys to the pearly gates!
The grounds they rode on were ‘holy grounds’.
Yaani, it was their world and we were just living in it!

Ah, the begging. The flattery. The psychological warfare just to get one ride.
Utter madness!

And the plot twist?
I didn’t even know how to ride a bike!

So now I had two problems:

1. Beg for a bike

2. Get someone to teach me how to ride it

Shida tu!

Now where would I begin?
Ni kubeg, gravel for the bike ama nikufunzwa how to ride?
I needed to choose a struggle.

I chose peace and living in my head.

I’d watch the ‘haves’ for hours as they rode their little hearts out,
the ‘have-nots’ worshipped the grounds the ‘haves’ rode on.

Bike riding? I learned that as a grown-up.
But that feeling of not having?
Myeeeen, it's unforgettable.

AND don’t get me started on swimming!

Woooiii!!!

I never had a swimsuit!
This wasn’t anywhere near the hierarchy of needs that Mother and Rev were trying to meet!
I didn’t even have the language to ask for a swimsuit!

Lakini, peer pressure had me in a chokehold.
An opportunity to go swimming with other kids in the estate presented itself.
In true Ice fashion, I decided to be my own savior.

I stitched up one of my cotton vests down the middle,
since I had seen how swimsuits looked like.

AKI, it was a cotton vest!

Like that’s not bad enough—it was one of those vests where the color would run.
Let that SINK.

Yooooo!!!

The stares, the subtle laughs, the whispers that followed—INSANE!

Then did I know how to swim?
If you answered “No”—you know me too well!!

Weeee!!!
Now I know why learning how to ride a bike and how to swim are two major activities that have stayed on my bucket list!

Inner child must be healed!

Go to therapy.
Imagine, ni muhimu.

Tigoni Ebike Tour

 I did a THING!

Woke up bright and early, drove to the end of the world (okay, fine, a few miles shy of THE END of the world) just to ride a bike.

I know what you’re thinking. Kuendesha bike tu?

AHEM.

This was NOT your ordinary bike ride! NOPE! No! Noooooooo!

This was me living out a fantasy!

Where did this fantasy come from, you ask?

Oh, I’m so glad you did.

*Pulls a seat* You’ll want to sit down for this one!

Flashback: Many, many, MANY moons ago, back in campus, we went for this camp. On the itinerary? Bike riding.

I was hyped! Dreamed about it! Saw myself gliding through open roads, yellow tulips swaying in the breeze, wind in my hair, helmet securely on (safety first, folks), and my favorite songs in my ears. Beside me? One of my favorite humans back then.(If you catch the drift *wink*).. Bliss!

Then morning came.

And with it, the dreaded call: “Watu wanajua kuride bike?” Twendeni...

Cue my heart dropping to the floor. Dreams audibly shuttering in my soul!

Mimi? ICE? Did I know how to ride a bike?

If you said yes... WHO are you, and why are you lying to both of us?!

Also. It's didn't help that 'Favorite human' not only knew how to BUT was Darn good at it! NKT!

From THAT day, I’ve been counting down to this moment—when I could finally ride down open roads, tulips or no tulips, wind in my hair (helmet on, obviously), audiobook playing, person or NOT and just... LIVE.

And guess what? I DID IT!

Is every part of my body screaming in utter pain?

If you said no... *points to the FIRE EXIT.*

BUT—is my soul absolutely, positively, unapologetically joyful? You bet it is. WINK.

Oh, and before I go: there’s this proper hidden gem called @Fig&Olive Restaurant where I had the most amazing coffee! This is NOT A coffee POST So I shall NOT Go there- LAkini dreams DO Come True!

Tuseme this year we’re romanticizing life. Because guess what?

IT IS a darn good life.

Tumesema happy New Year Ama Bado?

*Raises glass* To a #Dreamy2025

Brand consistency is a superpower.

It’s the magic that keeps customers coming back, and let me tell you—CJs has it in the BAG! 🛍️ Every single branch I’ve visited delivers the same level of excellence: the service, the smiles, and most importantly, the coffee—consistently amazing.

(Disclaimer: They did NOT pay me to say this. I’m just a coffee enthusiast with opinions!)

Now, here’s the flip side. One of my biggest pet peeves, especially as someone who loves hopping from one coffee shop to another, is the lack of consistency.

The pattern is almost predictable: the first visit is AMAZING. Smiles are free, the food presentation is 5-star, and you leave thinking, “This is it, my new spot!” Yaani, first impressions are immaculate. 👌🏾

But hapa ndio shida huanza. The second visit? Eeeh, not so much. Let me give you an example: Viewpoint (Pale Embu).

My first time there in February was unforgettable! The waitress was a gem—super attentive and sweet. She even ensured my pancakes (okay, crepes) were egg-free, so I could enjoy them worry-free. Presentation? A+! Impeccable. I left thinking, “I’ve found the one.”

Then came visit two... yooo! It was like I’d entered a completely different establishment. After waiting 30 minutes (yep, I timed it), I had to track down a waitress. The interaction went like this:

Me: Can I have pancakes without eggs?

Waitress: Basi hiyo si pancakes

Me: Is it possible to get them made that way?

Waitress (begrudgingly): I’ll ask the chef kama wanaweza.

What I got? Totally different from my first visit. But because I believe in second chances (and third charms), I went back. Let’s just say… charm was nowhere to be found. 😅

This isn’t just about coffee shops, though—it’s a wider issue across industries. Consistency is what keeps your customers coming back. Without it, you risk turning loyal customers into one-time visitors.

So here’s my takeaway: if you want to build a strong brand, make sure the experience is consistently great—not just for first-timers, but for every customer, every time.

Let’s talk about it—how does your business stay consistent? Or have you had a similar “first amazing, second meh” experience? Let’s share stories!

Coffee Review #BlackGoldCafè

 

The NEED to try out coffee has taken me to some wild places—hidden gems, world-famous cafés, and everything in between. I’m constantly amazed at how Kahawa has this way of leveling the playing field.

Now, here’s a fact for you: the base of ALL (yes, ALL) coffee is ESPRESSO. This little powerhouse is coffee brewed under intense pressure, and when done right, it doesn’t even need sugar. Aki, it’s the kind of brew that demands your attention—smooth as it goes down, leaving your taste buds craving more. But here’s the thing, like a perfect dancer, a well-balanced espresso knows when to take a bow and exit the stage gracefully. Memorable, oh so memorable.

Coffee? Anyone?

And that’s exactly what I got at @BlackGoldCafè. My goodness! Just when I thought my coffee adventures couldn’t surprise me anymore—BAM! They did. Their house coffee, a filter coffee, was pure magic. Black Magic, if you will. From the first sip to the last drop, it was a journey.

Now, about the service... mhh. You know how some places have this vibe? That little aloofness you expect at such establishments? Well, the waiter was nice—no lies—but there’s this kasomething that just feels, you know, eeeh. Like, is the niceness genuine, or is it part of the JD? 🤔 But hey, let’s focus on what matters: the Kahawa, not the watu.

Forbidden Love Lament

In a effort to get back on this word bandwagon, Let's start off on a light note...

 I Miss You - Is what my soul thinks it wants to say, somehow in a convoluted dimension, It's deceived itself into believing that it is ok to miss you. But just like the water misses electricity, I miss you!

My mind wants to bounce off it's thoughts with you, get your perspective, but that is letting you into a glimpse of my soul. Gasoline and matchbox. Flames!

There is a reset button in my body that I did not know of its existence till you turned up with its pass key. Now I do not know how to turn it off! With every passive hug, the earth beneath me wants to give in.

So I will tell the wind how much I miss you, how much every inch of my body longs for you, how my mind cannot stop drifting into you. I will tell the wind that in another life another universe, I'd tell you. But not in this. Not in this world!

As the wind belongs to another, so do you. So I hope this never gets to you. I hope this stays only in mind, body and soul. I hope you never get wind of this. 

So otherwise?