We Are Moving!

Hey guys!😊

I know it has been a while. I haven’t come back with excuses though, honest. You see, I have been conflicted for a while about a big decision I had to make and finally, I’ve decided to go with it.

I’m moving out.

Yes, I am moving out of my comfort zone here at WordPress and heading out into the world, into my new website!😍

It was a hard decision to make. WordPress is such a cool mom and all the other moms are so jealous because her house is always clean and her kids always get good grades but at some point, all children have to leave the nest and get their own place, right?

I felt that I needed to branch out and getting my own website felt like the only way I could do that.

So far, my new place is empty and devoid of words. I have to buy some new furniture and spazz up my new house, then I have to throw a ‘house warming’ party, lol😂. It’s scary and exciting at the same time, but it’s high time I did it.

I have managed to get so many follows and subscribes to my blog over the last two and a half years I’ve blogged here so, you can see why I got so comfortable.

It has been a sweet ride but it’s time to get off. Change is good for the soul afterall.

But do not worry mom, I’ll be coming to visit once in a while. You won’t even realize I was gone.

Thank you guys for loving my little space on the internet for so long. And everyone who supported me in any way to make my blog a reality, I thank you all. God bless you so much😘I love you all, xx.

I’ll be posting on my new blog from July so, you can expect a new blog post next week. I would absolutely love and appreciate your love and support (likes, comments, shares, follows, subscribes) as we move in next week.

I’ll send you links.

Or you could follow me on my socials to see if any post has come up:

Email- shirakuteyie@gmail.com

Facebook- here

Instagram- here

Twitter- here


I Serial Killed Rosie.

I think I’m a decent enough cook. I can make decent meals, the basics; Ugali, meat, rice, chapati you know? Basic Kenyan essentials. I can’t however, make a feast on my own.

Kenyan feasts require Chicken and beef and mutton and pork and all those juicy animals that need to be slaughtered. And I get chills every time I imagine that someday I’ll have to slaughter something, especially chicken (something tells me that in future I’ll be keeping chicken and it’s not a luhya thing or anything).

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to be a vegan or anything, it’s just that slitting something’s throat is not an easy task.

And then I’m just very clumsy so a bunch of stuff would probably go wrong.

I’m very fond of animals so I’d probably name my chicken. The biggest one I’d name Rosie because it just suits her.

And my husband would call me from work one Easter and say, “Babe, my mum is coming over for the weekend this Easter imagine? She wants me to pick her up from town at 5pm.”

“What?? I’m not ready for a visit from your mum Babe! Why on such short notice?”

“Ah si you know my mum. Don’t worry, we’ll be ready for her. We’ll slaughter one of the chicken for her, she’ll be cool about it.”

“Sawa. Si you’ll come home early you do it before you go pick her up?”

“Aki babe si you know how I feel about blood?”

Then I’d have to do it myself.

So I’d go out into the backyard and pluck sweet Rosie from the rest of the chicken to go give her the talk. And the other chicken would discuss solemnly amongst themselves about Rosie’s fate and their own good luck for having escaped The Knife (when I say it like that it sounds like circumcision, doesn’t it?).

And poor sweet Rosie would be unaware.

“Look Rosie, it’s not you it’s me. Well actually it’s Easter and my mother-in-law is coming over and well, you are my number one chicken. She’ll love your drumsticks.”

And Rosie will sense the first scent of betrayal in the air at the mention of drumsticks and she’ll start acting fidgety and jumpy as she sees me looking for something in the kitchen cabinets – a knife. And that’s when she’ll make a ran for it.

And I’ll ran after her around the kitchen, through the living room, up the stairs into the bathroom, knife in hand.

She’ll find the bathroom window open and she’ll jump onto the windowsill then she’ll look back at me frantically as if to say,

“I’m warning you Tess, I’ll jump if you come any closer! I have nothing to lose! I’m a crazy chicken with nothing to lose!”

“Don’t you dare jump out that window Rosie!”

But she’ll do it. She’ll do it because she’s a crazy chicken. And her primal instinct as a bird will fail to kick in because she’s a heavy chicken and she’ll fall rapidly into my rose garden in the backyard(I also see myself having a garden), full of thorns. She’ll be trapped.

And I’ll run downstairs and into the backyard to get her. She’ll have a broken leg and a fractured wing.

“I told you not to do it Rosie. You’ve made things harder on yourself.”

I’ll carry her maimed body back into the kitchen and lay her down on the counter.

I’ll raise my knife and she’ll give me one last betrayed look and the knife will come down on her frail neck.

And Rosie will clack her last complaints then spray me with all the blood her vessles held – karma.

It’ll then be my turn to scream frantically and just then, as if karma hadn’t finished with me, my husband and my Mother-in-law will walk in.

“Hey babe, mum arrived earlier than expected and I went to pick…. Wah babe! Kwani what happened? Are you okay??” He’ll say as he rushes over to where I am.

“I serial killed Rosie honey!!” I’ll say crying like a maniac.

Then my Mother-in-law will look at her son and ask him with contempt, “Dîrîchiririì waugire nū aruge?” (I thought you said she could cook?)

And we would end up eating fish for Easter because you don’t have to slaughter a fish.

Hey guys,

Its been a while,huh? I’ve been busy working on a project that is now done and I can’t wait to share it with you all. I’ll show you soon.

xoxo, Tess❤

Connect with me;

Email- selinateyie@gmail.com

Facebook- here

Instagram- here

Twitter- here

Have a great Easter guys✌

Be Kind to Yourself.Take into consideration your whole self, not just your writing self. How strong are you physically and emotionally right now? How can you make those aspects of yourself better?

Get enough sleep and proper nutrition. Though eating chocolate and staying up all night watching sad movies may seem like a fun idea, it’s probably not the ideal way to self-care.

Remember when things were worse. Last year at about this time, I was recovering from four surgeries. I’d rather deal with some writing downs than that. Perspective is important.

Use your Lifelines

You know how that show, Who Wants to Be a Millionaire , has three lifelines the contestants may use in their answering? You have lifelines, too, if you think about it. When I’m feeling very end-of-the-world, I choose one or all of these lifelines for support:

Phone a writing friend. Call up your writing buddies and make a date for lunch or coffee or a walk. If you can’t go in person, reach out via email or social media (aren’t we all in secret writing groups?). When I admitted to my problems, several people reached out to me to tell me they’d experienced EXACTLY THE SAME THING, and I instantly felt better.

Phone a non-writing friend and talk about anything unrelated to writing.

Do something for someone else. Volunteering with a group or doing something nice for a friend is a swift visceral reminder that there’s more to life than your writing career.

Make other art. It doesn’t matter what it is. Learn how to fold a napkin into a turkey, or string paperclips together. Anything. Your writing muscles need a rest to regenerate into something stronger; give them a break by working out a different creative group. I actually completed a Christmas dollhouse that I’d collected the materials for, but never put together.

Do something physical. Endorphins, sunshine, fresh air. You know the drill.

Get Back to Writing

Make a plan. Maybe you’ll write something new. Maybe you’ll query another agent. Maybe you’ll incorporate your critiques. The important thing is to know what you want and proceed in that direction.

Visualize your completed project. I was at the local Japanese dollar store and saw daruma dolls. The eyes are blank, and you make a wish and fill in one eye. When your wish is fulfilled, you draw in the other eye. My writer friend Jamie Ford gets a new daruma and draws an eye every time he starts a new project, and fills in the other when he’s done. I don’t think he’ll mind me copying this idea, so I got a daruma and drew in an eye.

Or, go the other way, and try to quit. Wait, you say, that can’t be right! But it can be. When I told my husband I was quitting writing forever, he said okay. I was highly insulted. I’d thought he’d grasp me to his chest and declare, “No, no, no, my darling! The world needs your talent! You must KEEP WRITING!” Or at least, “You know, you don’t really have any other skills, so you should probably give it another go.” But okay? I said, “You’re just going to let me quit? Just like that?” I knew then I wouldn’t, and I was ready to delve back into the process.

I don’t remember where I got this from but it really inspired me and motivated me to get out of the rut I was stuck in ✌


Six years ago when we (yes, si we are a family now?) started this blog, Thika Road wasn’t even a highway. Fashion blogging wasn’t a thing yet. Selfies were unheard of. Yoga hadn’t moved to Kileleshwa. Sauti Sol hadn’t started removing their shirts. In fact, Nerea hadn’t even gotten a boyfriend yet, let alone getting pregnant. Folk ate carbohydrates. Instagram was an infant. Vanity was only evolving. Fast. Here, we called this blog High School because we were young and impressionable. We met here every Monday. And we were unhinged. We laughed (still do) and sometimes we got sombre. We didn’t really know what we wanted from each other, but it felt good to meet here on Mondays and have a tickle and a giggle. And nobody gave two shits on who commented first.

We had guys like Kibidubidu whose comments you had to read with a dictionary. Kina Kimutai in his kitenge. Then we blossomed. We graduated from High School and came here and even more people came on board. Interesting folk for the most part. And when we gave Jadudi a hand we knew that this shit here isn’t for just laughs, that we would step up to the plate when we wanted to. We had become a family; diverse, opinionated, respectful and still fun. Even the names became louder – kina Peter Wesh. Some with three names: Caroline Achieng Otieno. Kina Cliff the Tall, who I’m sure isn’t even thaaat tall. Kina Anitah and Mwaura Mswati, an admirer of King Mswati, I suppose. There were also a bunch of commenters who hide behind monikers. And then the thousands of ghost readers who came in quietly, read and went back to their spreadsheets and day hustle. Online phantoms. We became lovers of the word. We became men and women of letters.

So did I know I would get here? No. Not in my wildest dreams. Because all I wanted to do was write.

An extract from Bikozulu’s blog post after winning BAKE awards in 2016, four times in a row, Kenyan blog of the year. @ bikozulu.co.ke (wait, could I get sued for this?)

I was recently asked what my blog is really about.  

“Selina, I am confused on what your blog is actually about.”

I was a little hurt. A little :roll:.Truth is I had no idea either. I started back in 2015 without an end game in mind. I was purely winging it. But I remember that at the time, I had so many thoughts I needed an outlet other than my personal journal. All I wanted to do was write.

A year and 5months down the line and I finally get it. Now I have clarity of sight, clairvoyance, of where we are going. 

It has been a journey full of growth. 9 months into it and I discovered my deep love for writing. Crafting words was a blissful thing for me. A year into it and I wanted more out of this thing (money perhaps or purpose, I’m still figuring it out). 17 months in and I finally know what The Tess Chronicles is about.

It is a creative writing blog. My content is diverse and transcends many areas but written in a creative light. There is perspective here, expression, authenticity, humor, growth, quality, maturity (sometimes, lol) and general concern for important matters affecting us.

Posting Schedule and Categories.
Mondays- Life and my generation. Basically everything to do with our generation. Our culture, lifestyle, issues and how to deal.

 Wednesdays- Perspective. Opinions and perspectives on different matters in the world at large. Important stuff, controversial stuff.

 Fridays- The arts. Poetry, a great piece of short writing fictional or nonfinancial, music, film, a great book, a great piece of painting. This is where diversity comes in. An appreciation for the arts.

 Sundays- Girl talk. All things women. Empowerment, advice( dudes can come here to get advice on women too,lol) and feminism.
I want to showcase life in the eyes of us youth, this misunderstood millennial generation. Young Kenyans passionate and ambitious. I want to put our opinions out there because they matter. 

I want to tell untold stories. I want to help people like me (writers with a million stories to tell but no platform, audience and or looking for a big break) break out of their artistic shells and show to the world.

I want to provoke people to think, especially my peers. I want them to be more in touch with our reality- the Kenyan reality.

I want to create my own community with this blog. A community of young people, friends, artists of great talent, misfits of all sorts. They can come here, find that they relate to my posts, feel at home and belong. I want to belong.

I want to create a place where freedom of expression is as necessary as breathing. A place to exercise feminism because Women’s rights matter.

And why not have fun in the process of it all? 🙂

Now, this is going to take great effort to pull off. I will need help because writer’s block is no joke. It’s as serious as erectile dysfunction! Time will come when I will not only shoot blanks but draw blanks as well. I will need people to help me get the pen up again (hahaha nimewacha sawa).  If you have ideas that can fit in any of the above mentioned categories or have something you can contribute to the categories, be it a piece of art, book review, film review, music review, opinion etc, you could guest blog here. Just email me -selinateyie@gmail.com and we work something out. 

Have you followed my blog yet? Subscribe below after reading☺ Leave me a comment and let’s connect.

Nice day☺ Happy Easter♥

It’s 6am. My alarm just went off. It says “Get up and run.” I’m supposed to go running at this large football field in our neighborhood. At 6am I’ll find close to twenty people exercising and doing their own thing. Too bad I won’t be joining them.

I will be battling my demons. My sleep demons. These bastards are not letting me win these days. You see, I made this resolution to go running in the morning. At 6am. My mind was set but my body was not. So it’s been a constant struggle for about a week now.

The worst thing about it is, the sleep demon is me. I am these demons. I am the one who gets in the way of my Running (BTW,I love running #hobbytings ❤). I am the one who presses that snooze button till  7.30am and I can’t go running at 7.30am because by then the sun is up and people can recognize me when the sun is up (I don’t like people recognizing me when I’m running coz    a. I run funny on my awkward days.   b. I run sexy on my fierce days and that is distracting and attracts attention. Last thing I want is people forgetting to exercise and getting notes at my door from secret admirers.) Hihihi.

So what am I getting at?

I’m saying you are your greatest obstacle towards getting what you want.

Lately I’m learning all sorts of life lessons. Everything I want to do or achieve is near my grasp all I have to do is make a move for it. 

  • My writing journey.
  • My fitness goal.
  • My future, etc

Life is shifty. Nothing is ever guaranteed. You might make a move a fail. Miserably. But to me, that’s the beauty of it. “You’ll never now till you try” – this line gets me going. Unless I make that move towards what I want, I’ll never know whether I could have gotten it. I couldn’t be able to live with myself without knowing.

Just start. Start with fear, start with doubt, start with low self-esteem, start with trembling fingers, start with sweaty palms, start with butterflies in your tummy, start with one, start with nothing, start at last place, it doesn’t matter as long as you start. You know the end result is worth starting for.

People may discourage you from getting to that end result but you hold the final cards. If you too become a nay sayer like them, you lose. If you push that snooze button like me, you become a nay sayer and you lose. If you are too afraid to start, you’ll lose. Don’t let yourself come between you and your goals.

Tomorrow I’ll try again. I don’t know if my sleep demons are stronger but I will try and I’ll win before February ends. ✌

This is a guest post from TheQueerPoet.


I’m just a boy,really am I.

Can’t you see?

How can you not? 

I cut my hair real short. I wear briefs. 

I wear those baggy jeans. And that awful thing they do- sagging almost to the knees.

Okay,maybe not that low.

But enough for my briefs to show.

Why is that so? Why do boys do that? Its just their thing I guess.

I’ve blown my cover by now.

Or I never had one from the start.

Am I just a delusional girl?

Thinking I can pass for a boy?

With my big boobs and girly coy?

With my ample bum,my soprano voice? 

Why did I even try?

I wanted to be heard. Oh yeah,that’s right!

To be someone’s son. To have a place at the table of men. To have a voice that’s respected by men. To not feel left out. To stop living a lie about this thing called gender equality. 

Who’s this gender equality? Oh,she’s a second cousin,once removed. Simply put,she’s not family!

Equality. Away with the double standards! Am I asking for too much?

Okay,maybe I wanted a lot more too.

But since I’m not a boy,I’ll need a platform. A microphone. Some speakers. I’m start enough,they’ll listen to a smart girl.

It takes a lot to be a boy,I just dont have all that.

I might be a tomboy,but it don’t make me a boy.

I’ll stick to being a girl,I have the necessary apparatus anyway 🙂

Thequeerpoet is a budding poet from Nairobi. She’s a self-confessed feminist,who loves boys and chips mwitu. She reads and writes when she’s not eating chips mwitu or chatting up cute studs,lol!

I was on a journey,a great adventure. I’m back with lots to tell 🙂


I’m excited! I have been itching to post something for months but technical circumstances wouldn’t let me 😦

I’m back though,I beat those technical odds,my head is busting with content and new ideas to share:) I can’t wait!

Gosh,I hope y’all are alright 🙂

Since my last post,lots has happened. I even turned a year older,lol 🙂 

I hope life’s been good to you and God’s grace has been sufficient to you all 🙂

Have a nice weekend beautiful people 🙂