Some days are good, some days are bad. However, some days are memorable and those can either be very good or very bad.
Then there are those days which can be best described as indescribable.
Those days when you hear about fires that vanquish tens of lives and anger an entire generation for a few days. Only a few. At the end of which pictures of hundreds of bodies lined up in tunnels in Syria will flood the internet and tongues will wag in a new direction.
There are those confusing days when the sight of a begging child in town pisses you so damn much but there ain't nothing much you can do about it.
Because it's the way of the world, right? A stranger will walk up to you as you head home in the evening and demand for your laptop. And in your ignorance you'll say "no" and that's the only reason why you'll get dead. For a laptop!
And for a day or two - a week if you're lucky - people will decry the state of insecurity in the country, blame the government, the opposition, point fingers at every body except themselves. I will not point a finger at myself and say, "It's my fault that that 20 year old boy was shot in the head by robbers.."
You won't hear me saying that "I'm to blame for the 12 year old boy that was raped by that monster." No. No. It's always the fault of the police, or the president, or who ever the hell our fingers point to on a certain date.
But what if a day dawns when it's your turn to take that bullet? What if a day dawns when it's my turn?
20:00h. I'm walking home from minding my business, I have my backpack on my mind and I am good with the world.
Someone lost their legs to a landmine in West Pokot? Shit. How's that my problem?
Hey, did you hear we lost another 3.6 billion to corruption? Oh that's alright. I made noise on Facebook condemning the vice, took a good prescribed dump on UhuRuto on Twitter and hell, I even wrote a thousand words article on it for our magazine at the office. I've been a good citizen.
Oh, by the way Moses Kuria poured another virile political rant on social media. brushing the air with a wave of my hand Ah please. It's Kuria. It's what he does. Or maybe I even condemn him on social media for a week.
Then suddenly, there are these three guys shoving me around demanding that I give them my laptop or else; well, bang bang.
Do you think I'll be blaming anyone in the government as they smack me around? Will I be blaming the judiciary and its backlog of cases as they shove a gun in my face? In those last moments, will I be blaming the police for their ineffectiveness in combating crime? Chances are I'll be muttering a prayer for my soul and one for mama should she never see her son again.
There are the days when one decides to do more than just complain. When one decides that the problems of the world are more personal than they appear. Because today it might be some kid in Burundi that's getting murdered, tomorrow might be some joker that raped another Granny in Busia and in a week, it just might be you, standing on the wrong end of a gun. You, my friend. You. Or me.
Complain today. Then do something tomorrow. It is my fault that that bank was hit. It is your fault that that child was kidnapped. It is our fault as a society that that lady was raped.
It is "me" not "you". It is "us" not "them" that are to blame for this mess.