Yesterday, my colleague who happens to be very tall and largely built fell off a stool when he got a scare. This story was retold several times and the whole office has a great laugh. However, the subject of the story was not too amused. He was smiling but with visible undertones of embarrassment.
Surviving in Nairobi is a constant battle to keep your wits. School on the other hand, exorcised a carefree attitude at any opportunity it had. I remember my C.R.E teacher from high school remarking that I was too childish and playful. She said it like it was a tragedy. The only tragedy is her lack of wit.
Where are the stories of our funny ancestors? Of the artists and entertainers who made life bearable. Of the loud and proud people who speak their mind?
Laugh just a little bit more won’t you? At yourself even. You’ll do your digestion a favor, at the very least.
I have a podcast too. Have you had a chance to give it a listen? Here you go!
Listen to this episode of my podcast, Who Is Your Mother, Why I can’t laugh https://anchor.fm/whoisyourmother/episodes/Why-I-cant-laugh-e1pnp8