This is the Day for Labour

It’s Labour Day! Well, at least in some parts of the world. I’ve never understood why we truly have Labour Day here in Kenya. It seems a better way to appreciate all the hard work that people do is to give them fair pay and better facilities.

What use is it to have one day when you lavish people with attention and fame and then neglect them for the rest of the year. Are they expected to load up on one year’s worth of gratitude in twenty-four hours?

The more I see of the world, the more skewed it seems and the less I am inclined to bother with it. Yet, without getting involved and learning about the things around me, how am I supposed to write about them? It’s such a difficult balance. They say it’s easier to live the life of a hermit, because all the confusion and temptation just doesn’t exist when you withdraw from society.

But then that’s what makes the survival of faith within society such a great achievement, the struggle, the despair, the feeling that says “I don’t want to do this, I really don’t” and then making yourself go ahead and do it simply because you know it’s the right thing.

On the writing front, I’m still working on that hunger essay. It’s coming out okay I think. My problem is, whenever I look back on my own work, it always seems below par to me. I literally cannot understand when someone actually enjoys something I write and the thing I want to ask is “But didn’t you find any bit a little off?” and I’m scared to hear the answer so I just don’t ask. Bad writing habit. One more thing to get rid of it.

Bint Ali


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