Roses are Red; A country that doesn’t know how to love
- It’s that time of the year again. You know the one, where your woke friends talk about the overcommercialization and capitalistic sh* of a holiday that is valentines. Where your woke friends who are in new relationships talk about how they used to believe it was an overcommercialized commercial holiday but now… Wait for this… Now because they have an other, they are starting to realize how it’s important to celebrate your feelings for the person you care about. *smirk* – please speak to me next year when you and bae have broken up and we’ll see if the sentiments remain the same-
- I have heard the argument, “why not celebrate love every day? Why should it be a holiday?” Let me tell you now that argument is hogwash and invalid. It is like asking why shouldn’t we celebrate mothers every day? Why must we have mother’s day? Or father’s? Or heroes? Or independence day? The day is a reminder to not take for granted what every other day we do take for granted.
- The expectation to buy, give, and receive. That is a different story. The expectation that the celebration is only of eros and not other love like agape. This is foolishness. The expectation of #couplesgoals and instagram photos that depict other’s reality as perfection. The farce created to depict completion in other and single as failure. I will be bitter and say may the single ancestors spit on you and judge harshly…
- I registered as a voter on Valentines day. As the government had been given an extended grace period that could be pushed no further, we the last minute people debated with ourselves until the last minute on the necessity of voting. It is a right but is it a responsibility? The jury is still out on that one. Don’t give me the bull nonsense on if you don’t vote you have no right to complain about the government. It is simply childish logic.
- The doctors on strike were arrested.
- Uhuru’s valentine gift to us was a dab.
- Our country is cracked, and I’m scared it will break.
- Our people have selective amnesia. 2007
- This valentines to me smells like hypocrisy. It is a reminder of a selfish love. A love that walks past the sick, head held high to avoid the stink of necessity, as it is covered from head to toe with the sickeningly sweet perfume of privilege. A love that calls selective education a good thing. A love that deems some more important than others. A love that bleeds injustice.
- Love is revolution. We don’t yet know how to love because there has been no revolution.
- Or maybe, love is unseen and the revolution will not be televised. photo cred: Kiptoo Koimett