No more champagne
And the fireworks are through
Here we are, me and you
Feeling lost and feeling blue
It's the end of the party
And the morning seems so grey
So unlike yesterday
Now's the time for us to say...
Happy new year !
Those are the words of one of the most famous musical group of years ago, the Abba. Right up to now, the relevance of the stanza still stands the time. We still feel blue and lost after countless champagnes, beers and wines of the world, taken over a very short period of one week.
Yours truly would be telling a lie, if I said I remained as sober as a monk during the festive period. Feeling blue? Oh yes I am. Feeling lost? Oh no I am not.
The song goes on;
May we all have a vision now and then
Of a world where every neighbour is a friend.
We all enter into the new year with a resolution of sorts. Some swear in the name of their gods that they will stop swearing or cursing. Others will shout very softly in case they are heard by their peers, that they have stopped drinking.
All those are visions worthy of mention. Even the government has a vision. The one we are mostly aware of is vision 2030. A long way to go, but a vision all the same. Abba was always right.
The song does not end there;
May we all have our hopes, our will to try.
If we don't, we might as well lie down and die
I would call this song artist a teacher by calling. The calling keyword is “our will to try.” If this word was repeated time and again to all of us, a good number would listen and we would not be having too many people feeling blue.
Because most of them would be very busy to remember what happened during the holidays. Busy trying to recoup the losses they subjected to their financial resources.
But because we have such a deficiency of thoughtful teachers, most of us have no clue of the power that those words carry. The will to try. I have a little cat at home that I call poky, a nickname my sister gave to her first car, a Vitz. I had picked that cat right at the gate of Parliament.
She was so thin and sickly she could hardly walk. She was trying to walk from the inside of the Parliament towards Professional Centre. Fearing that she would be run over by the big vehicles carrying big people who would not give a damn at the death of just a little kitten, I picked her up and walked back to Professional Centre where I had parked my car.
I let her rest under a shade beside the car and walked away to do my errands. After about an hour, I was back and ready to drive back to Kajiado before the perennial traffic snarl ups starts on Magadi road. I still remembered the cat.
As a precautionary measure, I walked around the car and looked under it to make sure the little cat was not there. She was. Right under the warmth of the engine. I pulled her up and checked whether she was still alive. Certainly, she was there. But just. She was still trying to remain alive.
I fetched milk from a nearby shop and gave her to drink. Then I put her in the car and drove away to my house. Six months later, poky was watching wildlife movies with me in the house.
She was all grown and beautiful cat. But I still fed her. She was living in a place where there are no rats or something to ignite her hunting spirit. So I thought she was completely dependent on me to bring her food at all times. But I was wrong.
The last stanza of the song is near.
“ Sometimes I see
How the brave new world arrives
And I see how it thrives
In the ashes of our lives
Oh yes, man is a fool
And he thinks he'll be okay”
Poky’s will to try was always alive in her as I was to learn later when I accidentally left her without food for two days. I had gone to the bush for work. To be continued.