To Musilas beloved family, Mrs Lilian Musila ,to his children Richard,Angelo,Anita ,Venessa and friends.I write to celebrate an extraordinary man.A man of his words,a true friend and loving husband. I met Musila around 1997.I together with others had joined an Mlm called swissgarde in Mombasa.I recruited my mum who recruited Paul,who signed in M.Abayo,who brought K.Kyalo who recruited Musila. We had gone to changamwe where Kyalo introduced to me a slim young guy with chubby cheeks.He would later turn out to be a force to reckon with in the industry. The igwe of Mlm.Musila was a keen learner, always asking relevant questions.I saw in him a fast learner and inquisitive student. He told me he'd been working in a water bottling godown in chaani, which was not in the best of working conditions or employment terms .He was the kind of person to grab an opportunity and run with it .Soon he joined us in the industry. Musila got down to work,he was not a joker but focused and committed to achieve his targets. He kept on pushing himself to grow his business despite of the odds. Back the recruiting a team was not child's play. He pushed harder, came to me for training notes and materials while hitting the field with all his strength. He was a man on a mission. Although most of the teammates moved much faster than him he always declined any support to get him down lines.He was determined to earn his stripes and manage to recruit by himself .By the time he was through with the training field of MLM, even through bruised but not hurt by the countless rejections-Muslia emerged as an unstoppable recruiting tsunami. These were proud moments in his career. He believed in putting in extra effort in order to succeed. There was a price to pay ,he often said. That price he played for it through sweat and blood in the field .Musila was ready to put aside temporary gratification for a long term gain .He was not discouraged by temporary frustrations. Anyone who knew him can attest these.He believed a No leads you to a Yes.Everyday he woke up ready to face as many Nos as possible just to get that one Yes.He knew it was that one yes that mattered, it was the mustard seed that he'd nurture into deep roots to give seeds and more seeds that would eventually become a forest of Mlmers. These is what he'd later do across the world with easy finesse.He rose to be a respected global leader in the industry and other social areas Along the way some of us quit swissgarde but he remained put. Nothing would distract him .He worked hard and got many accolades while there .He was ready . When Tiens came knocking Musila saw an opportunity to grow even further. He had a keen eye on the industry and knew when it hold on,when to walk away or when to run-Kenny Rodgers .In Tiens Musila took the ball and run with it. He was reborn .Once he took me to the field and showed me an entire estate .He told me he had knocked into each and every homestead. It turned out he'd done these in countless of estates .He'd once knocked on a home only to be faced by a stoned faced gentlemen with only a tiny towel wrapped around his waist. The not so friendly chap wanted to know why he was interrupting his session.Musila had easily turned the incident into an opportunity. These day we were delivering a double power pack to the same gentleman. Musila had garnered the skills of a smooth networker who could sell a fridge to an Eskimo .He made hard work seem easy. In Adisababa he narrated how he faced language barrier in a foreign land. He had to learn Amharic. He would scourge office buildings prospecting everyday,eventually he succeeded in building a formidable team . As a young man he had achieved a lot in his business, rising to be a 1 diamond lion director,not an easy feat by any standards. These rank he deserved and had earned it .He had given his all and risen from the abyss of Mlm to become the crème de la crème. The boy from Kangundo had conquered the world . Musila had come with an urgent request,he needed to borrow a novel .I obliged and lent him one of my blockbuster. He wasn't an avid fictional reader so I was curious,he'd told me he met a girl and was borrowing the book for her. Love was around the corner.A few weeks later I met him and the lover boy was distraught and heartbroken, the girl had eloped to Meru without saying goodbye .All is fair in love and war was all his said .It was bye bye to the novel and good morning to the future.There's a silver lining behind every dark cloud and things were nice right ahead. Musila requested me to assist him drop some stuff in his house.I got to Nawal centre area and picked him alongside his future wife to be .Musila had found love in Lilian . A magnificent wedding and children later cupped it all.Musila was an epitome of an African king loving,caring,responsible and a go getter .In Africa to quote China Achebe-if a child washes his hands ,he can dine with Kings .Musila was now ready to dine with the king . As a staunch believer in God and a Catholic parishioner he brought up his family in the faith to become responsible and Godfearing citizens .As a young man he was elated with the faith bestowed on him by his fellow youth at St.Lwanga Catholic church in Changamwe.They'd seen his leadership potential way before time.I'm not surprised that he was the parish chairman at his later church in Nyali .I have no doubt he did well. Musila loved sharing, caring and serving others.Above all he always said he did it for GOD.He lived for a purpose-To make a positive change to everyone he came into contact with. One day I had an issue with the state.On learning of my plight through the Newspaper he flew from Daressalaam where he'd gone for business to come to my aid He stood by me until the end. He stood by me when I was weak .He was not afraid just like Ben.E.King sang in his song; Stand by me. These is the kind of gentleman I'm cerebrating. A true friend that I will never forget. A symbol of what we should all aspire for ,impeccable people.(people of persons). We can honour him by following his example of forthrightness, courage and hard work.Musila teaches us not to take shortcuts while chasing success in life,to be truthful to our down lines and lead our families from the front. He taught us that the best things in life are above status,money ,fame, creed or religion,those little things like a little bit of caring,a smile, a hearty laugh,a meal together or just a moment shared together . Musila was a good man May God bless Stanslaus Musila.May God bless the Mlm industry which he served with a passion.
Thursday, 11 October 2018
Tuesday, 13 March 2018
Njabini memories circa 1990.
Come early morning and our journey began. These would be a treacherous long walk through the dense and dangerous 'ngai ndeithia'(lord help me) forest. My grandmother had told me eerie tales about marauding killer gangs that waylaid passersby and clobbered them to smithereens. Together we gridded,two boys,an old wooden box carrying my lifetime assets,a paper bag with old tattered (Sunday best) clothes,a reluctant and confused chicken and an old pair of boots that previously belonged to my uncle. Between us was a just a step but between our ears was a dream,thoughts of a blissful life,a dream of freedom from the dreadful life;working as herds boys far away from these place we called home . Never would we return.
The only sound along that cold ,misty ,dark path was of dogs barking like zombies.Who was scared of anything when the distance between freedom and despair was covered by bravery!As the night eased and dawn arose the new dream refined.
By dawn we had reached a center called 'Shauri',a shorter version of the name 'Shauri yako' which can be loosely translated to mean -you're on your own. Between shauri and Nyahururu was these dense forest. I was 11years old,crossing these forest meant a new life. It was now or never.
What happened next would shape my life completely..
As i walked passed the gate of Njabini Boys High school I saw some boys playing football in the pitch. I noticed a thin , tall boy,who can be described as resembling a dry desert twig playing as a defender .I reckoned he came from our home town. Later I knew they nick named him 'Naivasha', beside him was another short plump guy who also came from our home town nicknamed 'Mwangi Gathee'. Some boys were cheering by the edge while others basked in the sun. On a lonely corner some book wormer read a big book.(not Waweru 'Ninja')
I decide to carry my tiny green metallic box straight to the office but before I could say 'Jadara'; Mbūku (a notoriously funny character) pounced on me. In tow was other boys eager to welcome me to my new home for the next four years..in the meantime Tsavo dorm would be my temporary home. Here I met gentle souls.One of them was a tall ,lanky boy who later became a scout and a taekwondo enthusiast called Wagunya.
I hoped for a smooth induction into secondary school however, Mbūku and his pack of boys had a different idea. Right there on the pitch they raided my box looking for valuables, edibles and smokeables. My loaf of bread(those we used to call mkate uncle due to their hugeness) was gone in seconds. I was forced to exchange my new uniform and pair of shoes with old ones. In fact the pair of shoes I was given was one black and one white.
Luckily I had visited my brother who was a student here the previous year during the long Kenyatta day holidays. I had spent two nights in the school with the boys. I had carried some swimming gear and during the weekend some boys took me to Sasumua dam for swimming. These boys were daring and fearless. They followed no rules. My brother was nicknamed 'Tintin' (these was due to his small size. In these group of 'Nikobes' were other small boys like Toi ,Wairimu and Tiny) .He was well known ,these and my previous visit saved me from further torture. A form four guy recognized me and alerted Tintin who came and rescued me.
We walked to the office to enable me report to high school officially.( Note that it was on a Saturday afternoon and i was unaccompanied and only three weeks to end of first term).Here I was standing near the parade, a new joka (form one newbie)as disheveled as a vagabond. Gūmai gave me one look as he puffed his classical cigarette and knew exactly what misery had befell me.
'Which boys have done these to you?' he asked nonchalantly in that unmistakable Guyanese accent,as if he was speaking through his nose My brother mumbled some names. The culprits were soon summoned. My friend,let me tell you from a witness point of view. The slaps that flew on their faces were like lightening. Mr Gūmai then lifted them via their ears,holding on them like vices from a grotesque crab horror movie. Watching the pain was nauseating. Inwardly I was smiling, revenge is best served hot .The pack of boys were commandeered to return all my stuff with a stern warning not to monoilize me again. Least did I know we would soon meet again as I was ushered to my dorm ,Tsavo......to be continued...
Ben was these character from Gīthabai or was it Karangatha .He was infamous for reporting to school with a size 9 shoe despite been a size 6...find out why..
Meantime there's an account for supporting Mr.Oliver.Please let us support these astute academician.(He has since gone to be with his ancestors May he R.I.P)
As I settled in the dorm Mbūku and and his pack of boys were stealthy watching me like a troop of baboons zeroing on a cobra in Kikopey. I could catch a glimpse of them through the corner of my eye. I felt like a previously caged gazelle just released at the middle of a pride of lions in the Maasai Mara.
Where was Mr. Oliver to rescue me again. I was trapped like a mouse in a cage. I no where to hide.
However before I continue let me tell you about Mr Oliver the predecessor of Mr .Talibong.
Still I recall with nostalgia the many parade days Mr. Oliver would lecture us,albeit to hammer some sense into our heads. My favorite quote from him was, 'take care of the seconds and, the minutes will take care of themselves'. He meant that if you take care of the little things , you won't worry of the major ones. Do you have a favorite quote from Mr.Oliver. Feel free to share it with the group.
......to be continued.