We have moved!


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we have moved

We are now at http://www.missmugethi.com!


What are we?


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image from hdwallsource.com

image from hdwallsource.com

What are we?
So, not dating.
Just friends? Good friends?
What is this obsession with defining things anyway?

We understand each other
We both travel
We meet say, 4,5 times a year
We spend, 3,4 days together
Then we suck at keeping in touch.

I matter to you
You matter to me.
When you leave I will cry
If anything happens to you I will want to die

We don’t have to define it.
its real
its enough.

20th  July 2014

© 2014 Mugethi Gitau

#GuardianAngels #DearLord (Holy Monologues Pt. 3)


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image courtesy of to image

image courtesy of toimage

#DearLord Hi! I have a few questions to you about how some stuff works. Say for example #GuardianAngels

#DearLord Do we get one throughout our life or do they ever get switched around?

Also, #DearLord do they ever think we are a pain? Our #GuardianAngels? Do they ever go, “not her again! She’s always getting herself in danger!” Or maybe, “see I told you she was funny. She had me cracking up all last month while I was on her rotation!” #DearLord I think the latter would apply more to me.

#DearLord, I know what you are gonna say. You’ll say, “I see I blessed you with the gift of curiosity. But discussions at staff meetings are confidential :-)” right?

#DearLord You do agree with @StellaNganga that #GuardianAngels are scary, no? Then why do they enter people’s houses and say “Do not be afraid”? Every time! It baffles me why she wants to see one while she’s alive. #DearLord,  I’m not sure I wanna see one, they might scare the shit out of me!

#DearLord all I’m saying is that I hope the #GuardianAngel PR team has rebranded. Some of them are known for striking people deaf, blind, dead and giving people nasty looks. Maybe start some sort of #GuardianAngels CSR or ask me anything (AMA) sessions?

That being said #DearLord, it is uber cool that we each have a bodyguard. (Wait! Do #GuardianAngels talk into their sleeves? Do they have sleeves?) Thank you for caring for us in this manner. I love you. You rock :-*

For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. Ps 91: 11-12

21st  June 2014

© 2014 Mugethi Gitau

What is life? (Live pt 2)


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images (1)

-image from wikimedia commons-


What is life if not a memory

of a smile that warmed your heart

of a voice

that gave you goose bumps

of a kiss that melted you

and excited you

and made you want more




What is life if not a moment

of uncontrollable laughs

of an unstoppable smile

what is life if not a hug, a cuddle

a total connection by 2

from complete opposite worlds

but before you could blink

… total kindred spirits


15th May 2014

© 2014 Mugethi Gitau



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image from Google

image from Google


I will leave you

and I will live


I will not be cowed

By your threats


of financial






I will leave you

and I will live




I will heal

and be restored


I will prosper

and I will flourish


I will ignore

your implications


That without you

I shall wilt


I will leave you

and I will live


© Mugethi Gitau

19th Jan 2014



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image from Google

image from Google


If regret was a color

What would it be?


If regret had a voice

What would it sound like?


If regret was a person

What would be his name?


Could you run after it

and stop it in its tracks

and confront it?


Could you take a blunt object

and hit it hard?


Could you take an automatic weapon

and annihilate it?


Instead of sitting there

and waiting for Master Time

to banish it?


©Mugethi Gitau




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image from woman2success.com

image from woman2success.com

sometimes when I spend time with you
i get really sad
coz I connect with you

mind. emotions.
even my will desires
to submit to you

you get me
and I get you
it’s a soulical connection

you are my soulmate
shoot me now.
you are my soulmate

I wish you
had found me
years ago

©Mugethi Gitau

29th Sep 2013

Sitting Shiva


original painting by Cynthia Angeles http://paintingsbycynthia.com

The Jewish people have a custom known as Sitting Shiva. It’s when someone dies and you stay indoors even after they are buried. You mourn the deceased. You talk of their memories. Your neighbors and family bring you food and tell you they are sorry. And they sit Shiva with you for a while. Then they go, and someone else comes.

At the end of sitting Shiva, you have mourned the person all you possibly could. Plus you have cabin fever. And cannot wait to leave the house and resume life.


I feel like that’s what I’m doing. Sitting Shiva for an ended relationship. Mourning the death of a dream. Of hopes and aspirations. Which just like with death, is through no fault of mine. Going through the stages of grief. Shock. Denial. Anger. Negotiation. Acceptance.

My friends sit Shiva with me although it’s not their loss. While I have some wonderful memories, that now seem foolish as they could ALL have been based on lies, my friends now feel free to say just how much they hated the guy. How they mistrusted him from the start, but kept mum to keep peace. How better now than later. And how I’m obviously better off without that prick. (Their words, not mine.)

They also have funny stories that make me laugh through my tears.

But all through, I sit in pain. Unbelievable, heart wrenching pain. It never seems to go away. Even when I get reprieve it hovers, waiting to come back and occupy my heart.


Unlike mourning for the dead which has a proscribed number of days, I don’t know when I will be finished Sitting Shiva. But deep down, waaay deep I might add, I know I will. And I can’t wait for that moment, where I will be so weary of mourning, I will get up without a word to anyone. Jump into the shower. Make myself all pretty again. And go out to resume life.

Wounded, scarred, yet unbowed.

I hope it will be soon.

Mugs Gitau

Tue, 6th August 2013

Losing Jamal


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Losing Jamal

Image from Google

Image from Google

Years ago, when I had just started working as a teacher at the Coast, my boyfriend of 7 years was on a trip overseas.

I was heading home from work and took the same shortcut I always did when our driver dropped me. It was through a residential court, but everyone going that route used it.

There was a group of 3, maybe 4 young men sitting on the low fence chatting away whom I ignored as I passed them. I had no intention of making eye contact with any of them so that they could start to “chokoza” me!

A second later, I heard a thud and quick footsteps as one of them hurried over to catch up with me.

“Hi.” He said.

I stopped and returned his greeting with a skeptical look on my face my body language making it clear that I was ready to walk away the moment he uttered something stupid.

“My friend over there” he said pointing has bet me cash that there is no way I’m getting your number.

“Oh” I said. My face stony.

“So, could you give me your number so I could prove him wrong?”

I do not know if it was the look on his face or the sheer audacity of his request that made me break out in laughter. My heart softened just a little.

“So now that you’ll win the bet will you call and share your winnings?”

“For sure”

“0722 222 222”

He quickly saved it in his phone with an incredulous look on his face.

“Ok bye” I said casually and walked away.

I had hardly gotten inside my house, 5 minutes later when my phone rang. It was him. His friends were so in shock. And jealous. He should totally take me out and buy me coffee with my half of the winnings. So what was my name? He told me his, Jamal.

I could not believe I was talking to a total stranger. And *kwanza I had given him my number off the roadside! This is where trouble comes from, I thought. But I could not help smiling.

That weekend he took me to this adorable ice cream place close to the sea. They served your ice cream with two large wafers, and syrup. I wouldn’t take the sprinklings. That would just ruin it.

We drove to the rocky cliff at the seaside. It was popular and it was the weekend. People everywhere eating *kachiri and drinking *madafu. But we found the perfect spot to park his minivan. And time passed.

The next week he picked me up from where our driver dropped me and we went to his sports club. We ordered food from the restaurant and took it up to the roof. The first time we kissed was on that roof, with the last rays of the sun going home. Neither of us wanted to go home.

I felt guilty about the boyfriend. But I didn’t want the magic to end. So I held off until I knew he was due to return in a couple of days.

When I told him his disappointed face made me wanna reach out and hug him. I did. He was sad but didn’t wanna stop seeing me.

“We can still be friends, right? Regardless of the boyfriend? Meet me for ice cream please. No strings”

but we didn’t stop kissing, because when our eyes connected, the magic was still there.

So when my boyfriend caught wind of his existence, despite my insistence that we were just friends and I had a right to have friends beside him, he gave me an ultimatum. Him or Jamal.

I agonized over my decision and finally decided that I could not let go of this relationship that I had invested in for 7 years.

It was brutal but I had to tell Jamal that I couldn’t see him again. When he called, I would no longer pick up. I broke his heart.

But my heart was broken too. I cried myself to sleep. I was resentful of my boyfriend for making me give up this guy who lit up my day, every day. He was so fine! And he liked me so much! And I gave it up, to be with, well, him!

4 years later when my boyfriend and I parted ways, I sought Jamal out. He was overseas. He told me how hard it had been for him when I shut him out. How his friends would tell him to stop calling and stop watching my house. But he couldn’t. how he felt like such a stalker (which he was, LOL!)

I told him how heart wrenching it was for me too. And how I wished I had chosen him. How I regretted never giving him a chance.

I wished we could go back together but too much pain had passed between us. We couldn’t. it was too late.”

She looked up at the man who was sitting next to her on the steps outside her house. He had been mostly silent, and barely moved as she told him the story.

After what happened between us, hating you was my obvious choice. Sometimes the thought of you or mention of your name makes me want to pick up something heavy. And throw it.

Sometimes I wish I could hurt you the way you hurt me. And sometimes I wish I had never met you.

But I understand.

So, even though I felt like a dozen daggers were plunged deep into my heart. Though I felt foolish to have trusted you, despite what everyone thought. Though I doubt that the time will come that I shall trust a man again. Though I feel angry, and betrayed.

I forgive you.

Not by my own strength.

It’s by the grace of the Lord, sufficient for me

Swahili words 

*Chokoza – Jest, make catcalls, tease

*Kwanza – First of all

*Kachiri – Cassava crisps, popular at the Kenyan coast

*Madafu – A drink from the unmatured fruit of the palm tree



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Image from Google

Image from Google


It had been a while,

But when I met you

I dreamed


I dreamed of a home,

A brood

And a lifetime together


I was fearless

But when I met you

I fled


And when you caught up

With me

I fought you


I had scratched it off my list

But when I met you

I scribbled


And I doodled

With love hearts

and glitter


So now I giggle

When you tease me,


And my heart beats faster

When you call me


And my brain stops thinking

When you touch me


And I scribble

And I hope

And I dream


And I pray

That you will not let me jump

If you don’t stay to catch me

Mugethi Gitau

18th  June 2013