I never loved bikes growing up because they always reminded me of the night that my mum was taken into police custody and when my dad was brought home with injuries by some men: both of these two being very unrelated stories but involving bicycles.
I had a red MOUNTAIN BIKE when I was small. My dad had bought it for me because I topped my class ( I was a bright student growing up until I found “love”, or what I thought was love. hahaha).
The amazing experience with my RED MOUNTAIN BIKE was soon shot-lived as some people came and collected it together with my father’s BLACK MAMBA BIKE at night and took my mom to custody ( in my language we say, gutahwo). I never loved bicycles again, I never got to learn how to ride bikes until I was all grown and with an ID.
Years later…
I learned to ride within afew hours ( when am committed to something you will know). However, I got some bruises here and there; they were well deserved.
Some few years later my very daring friends would take me on a spree along Thika Road, through Kenyatta Road, to the Road that leads to Gatundu with a bike we had rented at JKUAT and left our IDs as collateral.
I don’t want to talk much about the Tarmac Road to Gatundu, but I will tell you this: pray that the President comes from your village and you will have too much tarmac road that you will use it to tandaza Maize during magetha ( harvest). Hello OTHAYA/KABARAK PEEPS. Lemme not touch the mountain. Anyway, I digress.
One thing I learnt about cycling is that, once you get it, you have it; It cannot be taken from you; you will never forget; you will never repeat the classes, at least not as intense. Sounds like Classes za God kinda. Sounds like Faith in hindsight.
I also learned that balance is key. However, balance is not achieved by how tight you hold onto the handle bars but how “tight” you are seated. It is interesting to note that.
Lastly, I observed that with cycling, you only go where your eyes are looking. It doesn’t matter how much you want to stick to the road but if you even as little as look at the pavement or the wall, say Hi to your new injuries. FAITH again.
So SISTER JOY, ANGALIA MBELE, FOCUS. If you can’t see what you want physically, use your inner eyes, see. Because it is as far as your eyes can see that WE are promised we shall possess.
LOAD.PIVOT.EFFORT. At least am getting to use our 8.4.4 syllabus not only on bicycles but also on my faith.
Faith and works go hand in hand. With Cycling, the effort/works is on the feet. Good thing is you do it alternating. Work your faith SISTER JOY
The Pivot of Faith is Prayer. The tool we use to calm our nerves, because I honestly do not want to use my prayer to arm-twist God. Prayer gives us direction. That still small voice you know. I want to be so light on my handlebars.
The LOAD. MZIGO… is our unbelief. Doubt. Fear. SEAT tight, put all your weight there. Allow prayer to control this ride. If you take the LOAD to the pivot, then there will be no balance and you will fall. You will pray amiss.
Oh, and aren’t we advised to cast our burdens unto Jesus for He cares for us.??
I still think of my RED MOUNTAIN bike. I wonder who bought it. Do they know that it was taken from some girl who had topped her class and had been praying for years for her dad to get money to buy her one. Do they know that the prayer was answered but the gift lasted less than a month.
I can’t buy a bike right now (I want a car) but am happy there are places I can rent and leave my ID as collateral.
So am here telling HIM, I want to please YOU. I want to cycle this road called LIFE with FAITH . I believe. PLEASE, HELP MY UNBELIEF.
With Love,
Your Fellow Delulu
Sister Joy