Tuesday, July 28, 2026
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Things Not to Say to a Woman Who Has Just Lost a Baby

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
8

Fellow blogger Wanjiru Kihusa of A Better You was bold enough to share her experience about losing her pregnancy at 20 weeks earlier this year. Her baby was due in March 2014. Today, Wanjiru is still coping with the grief of losing her first child Leila.

Since she lost her baby, Wanjiru continues to receive words of comfort and encouragement from many people. However, there are those who have said very insensitive things to her. Though well-meaning and said quite innocently, some ‘words of comfort’ have cut like a sharp razor.

From the experience of losing her baby, Wanjiru joined a support group where she continues to interact with other women who have similarly lost babies, and she has put together some statements that were said to them that were really inappropriate, and should never ever be told to someone who has just lost a baby.

One lady got told: “Your womb has so many eggs –you will give birth until you get tired.”

Another was told: “That baby was not yours, you will get another one.”

One woman lost two pregnancies in a span of one year, and the second time people were quick to ask her why she was rushing to have another baby, kwani kuna compe? (Is it a competition?).

Another lady was told that “God takes away babies with imperfections early enough, so you should actually be grateful.”

Her piece is very informative and I have learnt quite a lot from it, that we should learn to be more sensitive about the utterances that come from our lips. I hope it will do the same for you.

You can read Wanjiru’s complete post on this issue here.

Have a blessed week.

Here’s My Experiences Of the Baby Banda Pregnancy Fair’s I’ve Attended

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
0

The Baby Banda pregnancy and baby fair is back. This fair was supposed to happen in October last year, but was postponed due to the very unfortunate terrorist attack at Westgate mall.

It will now happen on Friday 31 January – Sunday 2 February 2014 at the Sarit Centre. Usually, the fair provides for interesting activities which both you and baby (and daddy I guess) can engage in, such as the maternity beauty pageant, the diaperthon, the face of the fair competition, as well as informative and educative forums facilitated by gynecologists, pediatricians, nutritionists, dermatologists, counselors and all those other nice experts who help us in this our motherhood journey.

I have attended two past Baby Banda events, in 2011 and 2012. The 2011 one was good, I liked it, and I wrote about it in this post. I found the 2012 one to be abit… eeeee….I donno…. not as exciting as the previous one. The day I went (on a Saturday) was so crowded and stuffy and there was hardly any space to move or breathe.

In both fairs, there was a handful of exhibitors in the service industry (banks, hospitals, insurance etc) and there were plenty of those offering products (clothes, shoes, toys etc). For me, one of the main reasons for going to the fair is to buy stuff -for my boys. Like many stuff in one place. Instead of buying products from different shops, traversing through traffic jams in the scorching heat, or fearing to buy stuff online because of the disappointment being delivered for stuff that looks NOTHING like what was in the photos :( , the baby banda fair facilitates this by hosting different sellers in one space. You even get to buy stuff you didn’t know about, stuff you need, stuff you don’t really need but really looks cute anyway (grrrr to impulse buying).

Now, I certainly don’t mind the service providers, but for me they’re not stands that I stop at, because most of their products require deep thinking before I can buy them, and when I go the the baby banda fair, I really dont want to think because usually I’ve been thinking from Monday – Friday and I don’t like thinking much over the weekend. I just like being easy on weekends. And besides, they are not decisions I make on my own as I have to consult with Baba Kitty. So if the marketer or sales person gives me a pamphlet, I take it, put it in my handbag, then read it maybe a month later -that is if I remember where I kept it.

However, having service providers there is ok because I can imagine there are other moms who go there specifically to get that kind of information. I’m just not one of them.

So back to my baby banda 2012 experience. Seeing how stuffy that place was on that Saturday, I didn’t stay there more than 30 minutes. It could be because it’s the time I was in my first trimester -pregnant with my second son Ello, so I had little tolerance for anything that didn’t please me. However, I’d been accompanied by my friend Rose who wasn’t pregnant, and lets just say she was sweating more than I was, and wanted to get out of there faster than I wanted to. Two other friends of mine who went also told me they didn’t stay for long either because of the congestion and stuffiness. I’d planned to attend the maternity beauty pageant the following day (Sunday) but from my experience that Saturday, I gave the rest of the event a wide berth.

And by the way I also like the fair because I get to bump into old friends, some of whom I haven’t seen in ages, some of them now glowing in pregnancy, others new moms, others veteran moms –and we get to play catch-up. :)All in all, I’d definitely encourage you to attend the fair, and get your own experience from it.

Have a blessed week ahead.

Carol’s Baby Boy Celebrates His 1st Birthday!

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
0

Remember when I wrote about the baby shower I attended for my friend Carol Salamba sometime last year?

Well, I attended her son Eli’s 1 year birthday party two weekends ago. Yeah, allow me to quote the cliché:  ‘how did time fly so fast’?

Yap, I also couldn’t believe that a year had already gone by, my my my! Soon, Eli will be opening the door for me when I go visiting his mom!

I arrived for the birthday party late because earlier in the day I was attending my chama friend Joan’s baby shower in Kiambu (as you can see baby showers form the bulk of my social outings nowadays). :)But by hook or crook I couldn’t miss Eli’s birthday, no matter what. The birthday started at 1pm and myself, Baba Kitty and Kitty arrived at 8pm.:) Thankfully there was still cake and sumptuous dinner to fill our tummies. Kitty misbehaved a little bit by wrestling all of Eli’s gifts away from him – you know – those lovely looking colorful toy cars and a tricycle which he couldn’t understand belonged to some other kid and not him.

Eli when he was a fresh newborn :)

I was happy to celebrate this lovely day with Carol and her family. It has been a journey for Carol who spoke to me about how she kept the faith and is proud to be a mom today, and I thank God for the blessings that he has bestowed on her.

Mother and son :)

Carol is my very very bosom buddy from childhood days in Buru, and I really treasure her friendship. I am glad that we today, as grown ladies, get to share and exchange notes on the experiences of motherhood as we raise our sons.  Love you girl and a blessed life to Eli. xoxo.

The Bede Update

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
2

“My greatest fear as a mother, greater than the fear of losing him, is that Bede goes unknown to the world. That the potential lack of length of his life means he just fades away into nothingness….”

Those are not my words, but those of a fellow mom, a mom who has a young son Bede who was born with a rare cancer, a mom who is going through a very trying episode in her life. She is a fellow blogger who began her blog –The Bede Update, after the humbling experience of people reaching out to her and wanting to know what’s going on so they can offer us support and offer Bede their love and prayers.

It was not just her family and friends who inquired after her and her son, but other families from the hospital, complete strangers, hospital staff, people whom they’d never met or even heard of who wanted to know how Bede was fairing on.

Here is the link to her blog. Read her inspirational journey, and continue committing this mom, her son and her family in your prayers.

Have a blessed week ahead and whatever situation you’re in, remember to give thanks -regardless.

Getting a Birth Certificate in Kenya –Part 2

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
0

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

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
2

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’

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
10

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 TUBE l INSTAGRAM l TWITTER

*Image by Cheryl Holt from Pixabay 

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

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
0

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

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
9

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!

By
Maryanne W. Waweru
-
8

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.:)

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