simonledama

You ever sat there scrolling your feed, fingers itchy, wondering—“Nimpost ama nisimpost?” 😅 Because let’s be real, in 2025 having a relationship is not just about love—it’s a whole PR project. The moment you tag bae, the whole world feels entitled to a seat at your dinner table. aded13a1-c639-4bd3-a8fd-c97fd4d0554b.png  When your relationship is a public project, not a private journey.    Challenge number one: the audience. Your relationship instantly stops being two people and becomes a community project. Aunties in diaspora, haters from high school, your ex lurking with popcorn. Everyone is “watching.” One fight and suddenly your post of “my forever” looks like satire. Challenge number two: the pressure. Public love has deadlines. You must like, comment, post couple pics or else…“Is everything okay?” Bro, sometimes I just want to love silently without feeling like a content creator for my own relationship. Challenge number three: the exit strategy. Private breakups are...

It was a peaceful Friday evening at the Kambua residence — and by peaceful, I mean a powder keg was quietly ticking under the roof, waiting to blow. Two twins. Two destinations. Two very different priorities. One household   not ready   for what was about to go down. Josephine, the good girl™️, was prepping for a church kesha with her halo perfectly in place. Meanwhile, her twin sister Angela had other plans. Let’s just say if the Holy Spirit was whispering, Angela had the subwoofer on blast — and not for gospel music. Mrs. Kambua gave it one last motherly try:  “Angela, please come with us.”  And in classic rebellious fashion, Angela basically told her to go hug a cactus. “I’m old enough to choose what to do!” she snapped. Which is code for: “I’m about to make decisions that would make Satan himself blink twice.” Fast forward 0.2 seconds: PARTY. LOUD. WILD. Neighbors calling. Drinks flowing. Bass vibrating from the ceiling to the pits of hell. Enter: Mrs. Baraka, ne...

Let’s not beat around the bush: As a man, when I lead… does that mean my woman must chill, shut it, and play backup singer in our duet of life? Short answer: No. Long answer: Keep reading, bro. Kenyan men have been crying louder than a rejected tender—“Women don’t submit anymore!” Meanwhile, Kenyan women are rolling their eyes so hard, they’re seeing their ancestors. Welcome to the love Olympics: the tug-of-war edition. Drama Loading So let’s clear the air before the next relationship dies in the group chat. Leadership is not dictatorship. This ain’t State House. Being “the man” doesn’t mean you speak and thunder claps. It doesn’t mean she becomes your unpaid intern or personal chef with zero opinions. If your idea of leading is giving ultimatums over mchele and mutura, you need to sit down and read Ephesians again—without skipping the part where Christ DIED for His bride. Yeah. DIED. Not “DM'd her occasionally,” not “paid rent then disappeared,” but full-on sacrifice. Still Arguin...

 Ever woken up thinking you’d just created your magnum opus, only to realize you were scribbling nonsense in your sleep? Welcome to my world—or rather, my dream world. The other night, I thought I was channeling my inner poet, crafting lyrics that would rival the greatest songwriters. I saw myself scribbling with such passion, certain I'd wake up to discover a masterpiece. Spoiler alert: I woke up to hieroglyphics that even Rosetta Stone couldn’t decipher. But here’s the kicker: what does it say about us when our subconscious is working harder than our conscious mind? In a world obsessed with productivity and genius, are we now so pressured to “create” that even our dreams are competing for attention? Or maybe my brain was just trolling me. Who knows? If you’re curious, the scribbles read something like: “Clouds…emotions…uh, whispering winds?!” Revolutionary, right? Clearly, I’m one REM cycle away from Grammy gold. But it begs the question: Is creativity something we truly control,...

  We've all encountered them—the ones who slip in and out of our lives like a missed call at 2 AM. They show up with just enough charm to make you think, maybe this time it's different, only to leave you hanging when it matters most. And when they do finally say goodbye? It’s not a clean break—it’s a 13-minute monologue disguised as closure, filled with ”I care about you, but…” and ”It’s not you, it’s me” clichés. Welcome to Bum Dial: The Commitment Issues Edition. For a moment, let’s be honest—when they first left, it hurt. Maybe you replayed the conversations, overanalyzed the texts, even wondered if you should’ve handled things differently. Did you scare them off? Did the infamous ”one-time thing” turn into an emotional bear trap? Or, the classic—did you mess up something that could’ve been real? But here’s the hard truth: if they wanted to stay, they would have. Love—real, lasting love—isn’t about a grand confession after a hookup fueled by nostalgia. It’s not about history...

  Ah, confrontation. That magical moment when you’re this close to flipping a table, but you’re also wondering if Jesus would be cool with that. Let’s be real—there are times you need to put someone in their place, and there are times when the best move is to save your breath (and your peace). But how do you know which situation calls for which response? Lucky for you, I’ve got a handy guide. Consider this your Holy Spirit-approved cheat sheet for deciding whether to throw hands (verbally, of course) or take a deep, dramatic sigh and walk away. Push Back When… 1. Respect is on the Line If someone is out here treating you (or someone you care about) like a doormat, it’s time to speak up. There’s a difference between letting things slide and becoming a human punching bag. Stand your ground and let them know, “I’m not the one, and this is not the day.” 2. They’re Gaslighting You Ever had someone twist reality so hard you start questioning whether you even exist? “I never said that.” (...

  Okay, let’s get real. We all have that one thing we do when life throws us an uncomfortable situation: we run. Yep, we ghost our problems, just like we ghost those half-baked Tinder matches or the leftover pizza in the fridge (don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about). But let’s be honest—avoiding discomfort is the ultimate cop-out. It feels good in the moment, sure. When someone brings up that awkward conversation about your personal life, or heaven forbid, asks you to take selfies when you’re just not feeling it (I mean, I’m not a Kardashian), it’s easy to do what I call the “silent retreat” move. Just shut down, walk away, and hope that if you ignore it long enough, it’ll magically fix itself. Spoiler alert: it won’t. But Why Do We Do This? It’s not like we’re all secretly introverts running away from human interaction (though, if you are, I totally understand). No, we avoid discomfort because it’s... uncomfortable. Shocking, right? But here’s the kicker: avoiding ...