Public Service

I have lost in the debate with myself on whether or not this should appear in my blog.

I need to make some things clear before starting out on this post’s agenda. 

First, thanks to all of you that have been faithful to this blog. I am humbled by your continued support. Second, I take your views and ideas seriously, and that is why am writing this. I acknowledge that much of the information in this blog is personal and it is after much thought that I disclose any information. I will continue updating it, with everything that I think is OK to be disclosed to the public. If I omit any information or implement some of your requests, then the theme of my blog will be defeated.
I recently went through a drastic change in my life. I left a GREAT career to serve the public. I don’t regret it whatsoever.
My service to the public began on a high note: Paramilitary training. In the next few months, I will be sharing my experience at a military camp.

This is what I wrote in my journal on day 2 at the camp:

It is 1940hrs and today is the second day of my training. I am very tired and almost every part of my body is aching… I can barely write properly. It has been two days of strenuous exercises. All I can think about is resting and sleeping.
We are supposed to wake up at 0300hrs every day for the morning run. It is the toughest part of the training.
Honestly, all I think of when am in the camp is nothing. I live every moment at a time, and pray about it as it comes.
Oh God, please give me the grace to go through this to the end. I will always tell people of your grace if you help me out on this one. Please help me so that I may be in good health, strong and successful in this course. I love you God, in Jesus’ Name, Amen.

As I reminisce about the cold mornings and the morning run, one of our physical training instructors, Corporal (CPL) Makokha, comes into mind.  Every day at 0300 hrs, we would have a mini-parade where our physical count would be done (I will give details about these mini-parades in another post. At that time, I felt like CPL Makokha was a rough, lethal, merciless and a ruthless trainer (*sorry, that’s exactly what I felt at that particular time).
 He would make us run all the way uphill, in the dark, on the rocks, whether you fall into pot-holes or not, he didn’t care … you simply had to run. “Nani huyo anatembea, wewe…wewe!… nani huyo anatembea” (Who’s that walking, you… you!... who’s that walking) were the words he would say every day. I didn’t like him so much at that time. 

I need to stop typing, duty calls. I will continue with more stories from the camp in the near future.

Photo of CPL Makokha and I on a walk-rehearsal day (OBMS):

Watch out for more paramilitary stories.