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Getting a Birth Certificate in Kenya –Part 2

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So, last Friday I returned to the Dept of Civil Registration offices to continue with the process of getting the birth certificate for my son Ello, who is now 7 months old. I had been told to return for step 2 sometime in September, but I’ve been caught up in too many other things and only had time to go back last week. Incase you missed it, you can click on this link Getting a Birth Certificate in Kenya – Part 1 where I gave my account of the first step in this process.

So, I checked in there at 2.15pm. And with the slip I had been given the last time, I went over to enquire from the customer care desk where I should take it. I was directed to Counter number 1.

At Counter number 1, I presented the slip to one of the attendants (they are always dressed in white labcoats), and about a minute later, she handed me some forms – which she then told me to take to Counter number 8.

Counter number 8 had cash points A, B and C. Only cashiers A and B were working. Both queues had about 10 people waiting to be served, so I stood behind the last person in the queue that appeared to be moving faster.

After about 15 – 20 minutes, it was my turn to be served. I presented the forms I had been given at Counter number 1, and I also handed the cashier 90 shillings. I was then issued with a receipt and asked to return two weeks later.

And that was all. :)

I walked out of the place at 2.44pm. The process had taken me about 29 minutes.

Next time I return, I will sure keep you posted in part 3.

Update: Part 3.

I did not return after two weeks because I got caught up in many mother things. I eventually went after about a month. On the day I went, I just went and presented the receipt I had been earlier given, and this was immediately traded with my son’s birth certificate.:) Yep, just like that! It actually took me less than five minutes and with no hustle at all.

So that was my experience in getting my second son’s birth certificate. It’s not much trouble, really. If you’re like me who prefers undertaking such important matters myself, then just dedicate some bit of your time and you’re good to go. All the best.

photo: jill craig/voa

Church Today at ICC Nairobi West Campus

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My family and I have just returned from church, and there is one lady that I want to acknowledge today.

I go to ICC Nairobi West church – it’s where I’ve been going for the last about nine years since my friend Rose introduced me to it. I love the fellowship there – it’s an easy, comfortable church for me. It has the enriching kind of fellowship that I like.

Now, I have a 7 month old and a 2.6 year old. When we go to church, I stay with the younger boy Ello at the crèche – which serves breastfeeding moms with babies 0 – 6 months (yes I know we’re past that age), while the older boy Kitty goes to nursery – which serves kids from 1.6 – 3 years. There is the in-between class which is from 6 months – 1.6 years (which is where Ello and I in essence should be :) ).

At the crèche, I enjoy being there because it’s in a nice enclosed room where we can breastfeed our little ones comfortably whilst still seeing the preacher, listening to the word and singing praise and worship.

Being around other breastfeeding moms and sometimes chatting each other up makes one feel very encouraged – atleast for me. Because we understand each other well – quite literally. Friendships have been established in that crèche – like the one I did with Elizabeth, whose daughter is 2 months older than Kitty. Elizabeth and I met at the crèche, and then our kids graduated to the next class together, and then they graduated to the next class together. Our kids will soon be graduating to the toddlers class (3-6 years) where they’ll continue hanging out together. It’s been a good journey watching this ‘Sunday friendship’ grow. Like today when Elizabeth and I met we were discussing options for our kids’ schools since we live in the same neighborhood. We exchanged some good notes on this.

Back to the crèche, I like it because it has comfortable seats, and they serve us some hot drink – drinking chocolate which is good for boosting milk production. Last time I was at the crèche when Kitty was a little tot, we had to walk over the the urn and serve ourselves the chocolate.

But nowadays, there is this lady, an usher who does this for us. A service that we so greatly need. What this lady does is take her time to wait upon us – by serving each of us some hot chocolate – according to how we like it. She also attends to us – you know – if one of us needs help with anything such as a fallen shawl, a fallen bib or a fussy baby – she’s always more than happy to help us out.

I don’t know her name, I always try reading her badge to get her name but it’s only written ‘ICC Usher’. I have always admired this lady. I mean, to wake up and go to church to voluntarily serve breastfeeding moms hot chocolate (I do the 10am service and our number fluctuates between 10 – 20 of us each Sunday) is nothing but a calling. A true calling. Not many of us have the heart for that. Today, she was dressed in a red waterfall blouse and a black skirt, and she had braids. If you know her, do please tell her that she is very much appreciated, and may God bless her as she continues serving us and serving Him. May her life be filled with God’s blessings and may favour follow her all her life.

And that’s the lady that I wanted to acknowledge today.

Have a blessed week ahead.

image courtesy: let’s talk breastfeeding, Kenya

The Day My Daughter’s Teacher Told Me to ‘Watch out For Relatives, Especially Male Ones’

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A mom recently shared an experience she had, and she requested that I share it here on Mummy Tales, for the benefit of other parents. So here goes:

Not so long ago, I attended my daughter’s rehearsal for a performance at the national music festival. At the end of the show, I was chatting with her headteacher. The lady is usually good with words and I take every word she says seriously because of the respect I have for her. And also because my daughter says great things about her.

That is why when my daughter’s great headteacher said:

“Take very good care of *Nana. She’s a very special girl. Watch out for relatives, especially the male ones. They tend to abuse our children. A normal play time can easily turn into something ugly…”

I cocked my ears. I listened hard. Then I listened again. Then my head started spinning, very fast. I started panicking…

My younger brother was temporarily living in our home at the time. He and my kids, and my sisters’ kids and just about any other kids belonging to any other relative of ours, are very close. My brother is good with all the kids, no doubt about that. They even have a very fond nick-name for him- Uncle Knoxx – a name that I can’t pronounce, and I’ve never cared to ask for its meaning.

To be honest, none of us has ever thought anything much about the relationship that he and other male family members have with our girl children. That’s why I didn’t understand why the headteacher’s words got my head spinning so fast I thought it would roll off my neck.

I stopped and asked her to explain why she said that to me.

“Mama Nana, as a teacher I’m charged with sharing any form of advice that I have with parents of my children…” she said.

I was looking straight in her eyes just to be sure she was not trying to hide something from me. She didn’t look like she was. Problem is that she sounded like she was! Do you know what I mean?

Suspecting all my brothers

So I picked my daughter and hurriedly left. My head was now sounding like a crowded animal marketplace with my own thoughts chirping, bleating, mowing, barking, all at the same time. I questioned my daughter over and over –of course not overtly – about her relationship with my brother, and my other brother, and my other brother, and my brother-in-law, and the other one, and the other one…

My daughter asked me eventually: “Mommy, are you having male issues?” I really don’t know what that question meant, but it made me stop my interrogation with her for the day… only to swiftly pick up the next day from where I’d left!

Was I going mad? I think I was.

I kept asking her. Different questions, different tactics, same purpose, for the next five or so days. I was trying to see something. But I wasn’t sure if I was seeing it or if my paranoia was getting to me.

I also watched my daughter and my dear brother very closely to see any sign of anything of the type that the headteacher had insinuated. I hawked over them. Sometimes hid secretly to watch them. I felt like I was going crazy, but I just couldn’t stop.

But I saw nothing!

Was I frustrated or not? I can’t remember. I only know that there were no eye-brow raising moments between the two, or any other male relative that visited during that time. The cattle market in my head finally got closed and my head settled still on my neck.

This experience brought to mind two earlier experiences that had totally been forgotten. Two friends, two different times, two lasting painful experiences for a mother of a soon-to-be-teenage-boy. You see how mothers visit each other with their kids so they can play together? For some unknown, unexplainable reasons 9/10 of my friends have daughters my son’s age (the pre-teen years; that is the ninish, tenish, elevenish, twelve years). If my friends have sons, they are either too young or way older (in very few cases).

Mama Sandra

Friend number one is a blunt shooter. Naturally my son and her pre-teen daughter Sandra* are close because they talk and connect at their own level. So on this day my friend arrived with her other kids, but not Sandra. I didn’t think much of it until my son *Clein asked where she was. When I asked my friend where her daughter was, she said:

“I’m not ready to start handling teenage relationships at my age. It is better not to bring Sandra to your house now that she is nearing teenage. I also think you should also stop bringing Clein along when coming to my house if you want us to remain sane.”

I’m glad my son didn’t hear this, because it cut through my stomach in a way he would never be able to handle. It’s been over a year and the two of them haven’t met. He has never stopped asking why we no longer visit Sandra’s family. I’ve cooked enough stories, that have lasted us this far…

The second friend

Friend number two’s case is short and sweet. She and her daughters passed by home one evening after school. My kids were doing their homework in a separate room, while my friend and I, and her daughters, chatted in the living room.

Then one of her daughters strayed (yes, strayed, because it was on that day that I noticed that the girls were always under a tight invisible leash) to the room where my kids were. When my friend realized that her daughter was not in the living room with us, she jumped up in panic. But I quickly reassured her that the little girl was with my kids. If only I knew…

“What? Is Clein also with them?” She asked in panic, getting up to go fetch her daughter. “I don’t want my *Mani going close to Clein especially now that he…” she stopped dead, held her mouth, more shocked (at what she had nearly said which I had understood anyway) than I was.

Why am I sharing these stories?

For one, I’m sad. Sad that I once panicked and held my beloved brother ‘Uncle Knoxx’ in suspicion around my daughter (totally throwing to the wind our own religious upbringing)!

Secondly, I’m sad. I’m sad because, as a mother of two sons, my boys become subject of suspicion as soon as they start looking like they’re sniffing the air of teenage.

Thirdly, I’m sad. I’m very sad. Indeed I am. I’m very sad beause I too, am a mother of a daughter. A daughter whose welfare I guard with suspicion, paranoia and obsessiveness.

Fourth, I’m sad. Sad that I didn’t know well to share with my two friends the truths that have only started to trickle in after that experience with my daughter’s headteacher.

Finally, I’m mad; very maaaaddd, that teachers don’t know how to mind their own businesses at least, or at best, exercise discretion when giving advice to parents. Or am I channeling my madness in the wrong direction? Any way, I still feel mad.

I ask: How will our children learn to relate with persons of the opposite gender if we build this wall of susparanoia around them? Don’t we realize that we’re creating a monster that we won’t be able to slay? What’s so hard in teaching our kids to respect their bodies – being the temple of God; and the bodies of others, just as we were taught? What’s this obsession with demonizing other people’s kids and making saints of our own? What’s wrong with us? Can’t we just learn from our parents, at least (or are some of us learning this susparanoia from our parents?).

What are your thoughts about this mom’s experience? Have you ever been in a similar situation? Share in the comments section below. You can also write me at maryanne@mummytales.com

Mummy Tales is a platform dedicated to empowering its readers on different aspects of womanhood and motherhood. Read more motherhood experiences of Kenyan moms here. Connect with Mummy Tales on: FACEBOOK l YOU TUBEINSTAGRAM l TWITTER

*Image by Cheryl Holt from Pixabay 

Does a Girl’s Relationship With Her Father Really Matter?

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I was reading an article yesterday about fathers and their daughters, and the critical role that fathers play in their daughter’s lives. I got some insights in it, which I share with you today. What I gathered from the article is that:

  • A girl stands a better chance of becoming a self-confident woman if she has a close connection with her father.
  • A dad’s presence (or lack of presence) in his daughter’s life will affect how she relates to all men who come after him.
  • Every girl needs a loving, dependable father figure to establish a positive identity as a female and cultivate feelings of self-worth.
  • A father is his daughter’s first love, so of course that relationship will affect how she interacts with other men.
  • A daughter’s relationship with her father is the first one that teaches her how she should be treated by a man.

Important truths I found them to be. So for those among us who are raising daughters, I hope you will take deep note of the above statements. I believe they have lots of truths in them.

 

 

 

 

 

On a personal note, I was privileged to be raised by both parents – who are still together today, enjoying the sunset years of their marriage, and who continue to be very present in my life. Growing up, I watched my dad sacrifice alot for my two brothers, my sister and I, and as I go back home to Buruburu to visit my folks every so often, I feel very proud of him. Why? Because now, as a parent myself, those sacrifices he (and my mom) made are all too clear and hit home hard.

My dad raised the four of us well, in a good Christian environment, a warm home, taught us good values and morals, gave us a good education, was home early every single day and was always there for us, guiding and moulding us into the adults we have become today. Harsh he was no doubt, but good harsh -not bad harsh :) .

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am very blessed to still have him around, very glad that he gets to spend time with his grandsons, and I am very honoured to have named my second son after him. My dad, Mr. Kariuki JW is a gem in my life. I love you daddy.

To all of you who still have your dads around, remember to appreciate them -for not many are as blessed.

Have a lovely weekend and God bless.

Comparing my First and Second Pregnancies: The Differences

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So I’m at 36 weeks now, and that old adage – that every pregnancy is different, hmmm…. I’ve been thinking of the differences between my two pregnancies of late, and this is what I’ve come up with:

With Kitty, I began wearing maternity pants at around 15 weeks.

With this one, I was already on to maternity pants at week 6! They say that first pregnancies take time to show, but with all the subsequent pregnancies, they show early. True dat.

With Kitty, I religiously watched everything I ate and avoided fast foods – especially fries and a succulent cheese burger. It was very painful to avoid these feeds, a huge sacrifice on my part. And pizza? Can you imagine even that one I had to sacrifice? So I reluctantly ate fries, a burger and pizza like once every quarter.:( Ofcourse it was ‘because I wanted a healthy baby’ but deep inside my heart the true reason was because I didn’t want to put on that much weight. Haaaa!! Look at how that turned out. The weight still came on and refused to leave, I shoulda just indulged.

With this one, I’m eating fries once in a while, because I find it very unfair to myself if I don’t and I find it very difficult to forgive myself if I don’t give in. Besides, they say it’s okay to indulge in your craving just as long as you don’t overdo it, right? So I treat myself to fries once a week. Atleast. As for pizza’s, yaaaaaayyy!

With Kitty, I googled a lot. I googled practically almost everything. If I sneezed three times in a row, I googled to check if that was normal. Before I climbed an elevator, I googled. Before I fried my food with onions, I googled. Before I crossed the road, I googled. When a black cat passed infront of me, I googled if that was a bad omen….

With this one, who is google? I think google is me because I think I know everything there is to know. As long as I read the weekly Baby Center updates, then I’m good.:) With my first pregnancy, I knew exactly how many weeks, days and almost hours I was pregnant. I would say: I am now 28 weeks, 3 days, 16 hours and 22 minutes pregnant.

Nowadays, I sometimes take me a minute to remember exactly how far along I am. If Baby Center’s weekly emails don’t remind me, then I’m not sure I’d ever remember.

With Kitty, I used to nap a lot. Like sleep a lot. While at work, my lunch hour would always be spent at the car basement napping away. It wasn’t comfortable at all, but with the amount of sleep I had, I never used to notice the discomfort.

With this one, sleep eludes me. I’ve never felt the need to take a nap as such – only at night, just like everybody else.

With Kitty, I didn’t have a particular craving. I was just hungry ALL the time and it really didn’t matter what I ate. Anything edible quickly found itself in my mouth. I was permanently eating – like 6 main meals in a day, and like 24 snacks and bitings in between.

With this one, I don’t eat as much. I actually eat the normal three meals in a day, and snack on fruits and njugu karanga in between. My appetite isn’t anything out of the norm.

With Kitty, I didn’t worry much about the pregnancy as such. I knew the baby would come healthy and all, and that I too would be healthy and all. But with this one, things are different. Since becoming a mom, I have come to know that conceiving, carrying a pregnancy to term, delivering a healthy baby, and actually walking out of the hospital with your baby in hand and both in good health is nothing short of a miracle. The 23 months that I have been a mom have been eye-opening, I have become more appreciative of life, and my relationship with God has certainly become stronger.

Who Knew what a Grapefruit Was!

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You remember the time I had written about butternut and how I didnt know what it was? Well, I just got another moment yesterday.

So I was at the local mama/baba mboga buying fruits. Specifically, I was at Baba Shiro’s kiosk when I saw a different kind of fruit – one that I’d never seen him stock before. Baba Shiro’s kibanda often has the usual stuff – melons, oranges, bananas, apples, oranges, pawpaws, avocados, sukuma, spinach, pumpkin etc. So suddenly I saw this huge round fruit, and I took about five minutes just holding it in my hand and staring at it and trying to feel its texture and trying to shake it to see if there was anything inside, and also trying to hit hit it to see if it would make a hollow sound, then I was also tossing it around….this is because I had never seen this fruit my whole life (and I’ve been around for quite a long time). So then I asked Baba Shiro what it was, and this is how conversation went:

Me: Eeehhhh Baba Shiro, kwani nini hii umetuletea leo?

Baba Shiro: Hiyo ni grapefruit. Na ni tamu sana.

Me: Ati grapefruit? Ehhh wewe kweli Baba Shiro leo umejikakamua sana! Sasa hii inakulwo aje?

Baba Shiro: Unaikata tu ndani na kisu alafu unakula.

Me: Ooohhhh. Na sasa inataste aje?

Baba Shiro: Ina taste tu kama fruit poa.

Me: Ooohhhh. Na sasa inataste kama fruit gani hivi?

Baba Shiro: Kama grapes.

Me: Ooohhhh. Kwa hivyo ni tamu sana …?

Baba Shiro: Ehhh ni tamu sana. Si ununue ujaribu.

Me: Ninunue kweli? Ati na ni how much?

Baba Shiro: Ni soo tu (100 bob).

Me: Weeeeee Baba Shiro kwani hii grapes iko na VAT? 100 bob kwa hii tu ka-moja ama ni tatu mia?

Baba Shiro: Huwezi pata hiyo fruit kwingine, ata utembee wapi na wapi. Labda sasa uende huko Sey Chelles.

Me: Hehehe ati wapi? Anyway lakini uko sure ni tamu?

Bab Shiro: Si nimekuambia ni kama grapes.

Me: Haya sawa nifungie hii moja bass. Na kama si tamu tufanye?

Baba Shiro: Wee enda ukule fruit utafurahi.

And that is how the purchase went.

So mimi huyooooo, quickly quickly headed home happily with many excitement. The grapefruit is big and round, it had the texture of an orange or lime on the outside, but yet inside, as Baba Shiro had told me, was like grapes. Now seriously, what better luck than that? A fruit that looks like an orange but is grapes inside?

Then I got home and hurriedly sliced it, looking forward to eating succulent grapes.

But alaaaaarrrr, kumbe grapefruit is just a big pink orange?????????????????? Even worse, it tastes like a bitter orange. Or rather like a sweet lemon. Like a bitter-sweet orange. How disappointed was I?

Worse, it was NOT succulent! It was dry with not even a trickling of juice however hard I tried to squeeze a juice out!

But now this Baba Shiro surely why did he tell me that the fruit was like grapes inside???? The way I had worked up my tastebuds?

All in all I’m disappointed it this grapefruit. Problem is it is so big, and none of my other family members are feeling it too. So I’m eating it tu on my own, because as much as I don’t like it, there is no way my hard-earned 100 bob will go to waste like that. Even though it will take me maybe another three or four days to finish it, but wacha tu I just vumilia eating it but for sure I’m never buying it again. Si mwanamke ni kuvumilia – as according to Bi Msafwari?

And by the way, please don’t get me started on Bi Msafwari, let me just continue eating my bitter grapes in peace.

Have a lovely weekend and God bless.:)

Losing a Pregnancy at 20 Weeks -Wanjiru Kihusa’s Story

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There are a couple of blogs I follow, and one of them is A Better You by Wanjiru Kihusa. I have followed Wanjiru over the last few months, and I love her stories -about her life as a new bride, and her marriage journey so far. I enjoy her reads because they are told with quite a personal touch.

I was especially excited when a few months ago she announced she was expecting. For many women, this is a totally joyous moment, and Wanjiru was no exception. I celebrated with her.

But I was totally crushed a few days ago when she announced that she had lost her baby -at 20 weeks gestation.  Totally broke my heart. So today I share with you the post that she wrote announcing the loss of her pregnancy. You have to salute Wanjiru for her courage in doing so. She’s one in a million.

Here goes, and she has a request to you at the end of the post:

“””When you start the year, you never know what awaits you in the months to come. You hope that the year will bring you great days and beautiful moments. You never anticipate the grief and sadness you might face.  And when that grief comes, it feels like someone kicked you in the stomach.

A month ago, we lost our baby. One day I was 20 weeks pregnant and the next I was not pregnant anymore.

I cannot begin to describe what I felt. Losing a child makes you feel like your world has fallen apart and the grief it comes with is something I would never wish on anyone. As a woman, it causes you to question almost everything. As a Christian, it shakes the very foundations your faith is built on.

It has been a month since that fateful Sunday morning that found me in Nairobi hospital casualty. I have not fully grasped all that happened and I have not figured out how to proceed. However, I’m sure I will get through this…One day at a time. I will get out of this a better and stronger person. And when I do, I will tell you about it

For now, I’d like to ask you a favor. In the course of my research on miscarriages, I noted there’s not much about the cases in Kenya. It’s not something people speak about easily and I understand why. Losing a baby sometimes brings a woman shame; you fear you may not be able to do what you were created to do. Some women feel its their fault and they don’t want to talk about it.

As I was reading through the articles on the internet, I was surprised at how common miscarriages are. 1 out of 5 women get a miscarriage. Shocked? So was I. If it is so common, how come there’s such little info about it?

Here is how I’d like you to help…I’m looking to find miscarriage support groups in Kenya. Also, any information on miscarriages will be highly appreciated. Kindly drop me an email at wanjirukihusa@gmail.com and share what your thoughts.“””

Wanjiru, we hold you in our thoughts and prayers during this difficult time -MT.

The Many Ways to Breastfeed Your Baby

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Wondering how you can breastfeed your baby? What position is best? Turns out there are many ways to breastfeed your baby, so find the one that suits both you and baby and nurse on!

Breastfeeding-baby-ways

Happy breastfeeding!

Also read: Why do some new mums get sore, cracked, painful nipples?

*top photo: let’s talk breastfeeding, kenya

Getting a Birth Certificate in Kenya – Part 1

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Yesterday, I went to apply for Ello’s birth certificate. He is 5 months old.

I keep seeing many people asking what exactly the process of getting a birth certificate for a child is, and so I am going to chronicle my step by step experiences here so as to give everybody a rough idea of how it goes.

So yesterday, Thursday, I arrived at the registration offices at 12.10 pm. The offices are along Bishops road, directly opposite Social Security House. If you’re taking public means, take those ones that pass through ‘Community’ then alight at the main ‘Community’ bus stop. Then find Bishops road, and walk walk walk along it until you see a KCB signpost – directly opposite Social Security House. You’ll see many people going in and coming out of a certain gate. Get in through that gate – the registration offices are there.

The only document I had with me was Ello’s birth notification slip which I was given upon discharge from the hospital where I delivered him. The birth notification slip is pink in color.

Immediately I got through the main door of the registration offices, I headed to the help desk, which was on my immediate right. There, I found three officers who were helping people with inquiries. I waited for one of them to finish talking to a client, then I asked him where I needed to start with the process.

The very helpful officer asked to see the birth notification first, and after scrutinizing it just a little bit (I think he was verifying its authenticity?), he handed me an application form which I filled out. And by the way always remember to carry a biro with you otherwise you’ll have to spend a few minutes staring at people and twiddling your thumbs as you wait for someone to finish filling out their application form before they can loan you theirs.

After completing the application form, I asked the officer what next, and he told me to take it to counter number 6.

I went to counter number 6 and stood in line. There were about 10 people ahead of me.

As I was waiting for my turn, I began asking myself if copies of my ID and that of baba Ello were needed. I remembered that they were required the last time when I was applying for Kitty’s birth certificate two years ago. Though I had my ID, I didn’t have Baba Ello’s so I decided to ask the officer at the help desk about it because I didn’t want to stand in queue only to be told that the process could not go on until I came back with a copy of his ID.

After asking the officer about this, he told me that my ID copy would suffice. Now all I needed was to look for somewhere to photocopy my ID. Did this mean walking all the way to ‘Community’ and looking for shops that would do this? Oh dear!

Luckily, there is a man who photocopies stuff right outside the main entrance of the registration offices – still within the same compound. Phew! :)

The man photocopied the ID for me, together with the birth notification slip, then stapled these copies to the application form which I had already filled out. I paid him 15 shillings for this. I guess to save on that time, you can photocopy these two documents prior to going there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So then I returned to counter number 6. I took my place at the back of the queue. This time there were like five people ahead of me.

When my turn arrived, I handed over the application form, together with copies of my ID and birth notification slip – which like I mentioned were all stapled together. I remained with the original birth notification slip.

The officer keyed in a few details on the computer and marked/wrote a few things on the application form. Then he tore off the lower part of my application form and handed me the slip.

He requested that I come back with it one week later- next week Thursday.

At 12.36pm, I left the building. The whole process – from start to finish had taken me all of 26 minutes. I was happy. Very happy actually. I hadn’t anticipated that it would be that brief.

By the way when I was leaving, I noticed that the doors were closed such that only people who were exiting were being opened for. I asked the security guard why this was so, and he told me that the doors close between 12.30pm – 2pm to allow employees take their lunch break.

Yeah, so that’s part 1 of the process. Very hustle free and smooth. Very clear straightforward steps and helpful officers to guide you. I will return next Thursday and tell you how it goes.

Have a lovely weekend.

Silvia Njoki: Kenyan Fashion Designer Tailoring Outfits for Her and Her Little Daughter

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When I first saw the little Ankara dress Silvia Njoki had designed for her daughter, I was totally blown away.  Her daughter looked so adorable and so cute! And Silvia herself had a matching outfit (headgear) on too. Both mom and daughter looked so beautiful I envied them.

I definitely wanted to find out a little more about her, and that specific outfit, and if she tailors all her daughters’ clothes. I also basically wanted to know her a little bit more.

Silvia Njoki is a young mom, a fashion stylist, designer and writer. She loves to dress both she and her little princess in stylish yet affordable outfits. Silvia studied fashion styling at Central St. Martins in London, and Nuova Accademia di Belle Arti Milano in Milan. Here’s a little more of the interview I had with her.

MT: Tell me a little about yourself

SN: My name is Silvia Njoki, a 25 year old mom. My daughter Nielsine Muthoni is 6 months old. I am a freelance fashion stylist by profession and a fashion writer with the Standard newspaper, and I am the creative director for my blog silvianjoki.com

MT: Tell me more about Style by Silvia

SN: ‘Style by Silvia’  has been my company name for my fashion styling activities. When I started to blog, I decided to use that name as well.

While I was pregnant, I got inspired to make little things for my daughter, crotcheted, knitted or sewed. This is because some of the items I needed were either too expensive or stuff I had only seen online which I couldn’t find locally. I am very handy and crafty, I like to make things. So this was fun. Eventually I decided to share my work online hoping to inspire other craft loving people.

One of her designs - a maasai-themed maternity dress

 

 

 

 

MT: Where do you get your inspiration from (for Style by Silvia)?

SN: I get inspired by all sorts of things; in fact on my blog I post about things that inspire my projects. From runway clothes, to what my friends are wearing, a specific trend or color, fabrics which I discover in shops.  I pretty much try to get inspiration from most things around me.

MT: Where do you see yourself taking Style by Silvia?

SN: I like to get fulfillment from what I do! It began as a fun experience and sharing my work with others. When I started out, I didn’t envision that people would be ordering my pieces! It is quite humbling, especially since it has happened so fast! I recently had to hire a tailor to help me manage the orders. So I am taking every blessing and challenge as it comes.

MT: Tell me about your motherhood journey

SN: I try to be present in Nielsine’s life as much as I can, especially at this age. They grow so fast! It’s amazing just looking at the changes from pictures and videos of her 2 months ago. All I can say is that I am still learning, So far so good. I amaze myself! Most things that first time moms fear like the first bath or first vaccinations, I was actually quite excited about and handled them well, I am not perfect, but being a mother means learning about strengths you didn’t know you had and dealing with fears you didn’t know existed. Don’t we all wish they came with an instruction manual? But God never gives us more than we can handle.

MT: What do you love most about your daughter?

SN: How can I choose just one thing? She is perfect to me in every way… But I do love her smiles and the progress she is making in a variety of skills;  and the fact that she hardly ever cries – and largely is following my own sleep pattern.

 

 

 

 

 

MT: How has being a mum changed you?

SN: It is a unique level of responsibility that requires you to wear more than one hat and give your total commitment. A few seconds after she was born, she was placed in my arms and I realized that I had never been in love like this before. Before I got pregnant, I never thought I’d have time for a baby. Now I try to always be there for her and its going well. My priorities have changed, and I have to be careful about how I spend my money and my time. I find that most of my friends now are also moms. I also have to lead a life that my daughter would be proud of. I want to be her number one role model. Of course as a woman, you need to accept some physical changes following your pregnancy, but this is nothing compared with the blessings of being a mum.

 

 

 

You can find Silvia on Facebook on her page Style by Silvia.

Thank you Silvia, and kudos to you on your creativity. And your daughter is so pretty! :)

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