By Aoko Otieno
Ouch, what an expected title coming from a brash, arrogant, uncompromising, erratic, antagonistic, maverick who sometimes tweets like a reckless maniac.
Fair enough, but also in the interest of impartiality, hearken to me first before you twist your nose at the header and scroll over to a more affable and ego-massaging piece.
Conceded, New Year’s resolutions are as old as the hills, but that doesn’t mean they’re anything less than shibboleth.
By midnight, the big glittery ball will drop. Fireworks will explode across the sky. Lovers will slobber over each other. Loved ones and acquaintances will toast to whatever.
Strangers will bump fists and shake hands and exchange those ‘phew, we made it glances. What’s more, 80% of people will swear that 2022 is the year they finally lose weight/quit drinking or smoking/start a business/spend more time with family/live life to the fullest.
Social Media will be drowning in an avalanche of inspirational humdrum, poppycock; long, self-exculpating Facebook humbugs, virtue-signalling tweets like “leaving 2021 in the dust and preparing my life for the blessings of 2022.”
After 364 days of feasting on food ordered from apps, munching on junkie, now you want to lose weight and keep fit?
You spend hours of the day on end cruising on the streets of social media, feeding on a galore of lurid stuff; you are a people pleaser who lives above his/her means just to fall into a certain cadre of Nairobians and wonder why you are struggling with mental health?
You spend your money on women, booze, weaves and shoes that you do not need and suddenly wants to be financially conscious because what, the clock hit 11: 59 on December 31st?
I’m often amused at how January is often a peak time for gym as Millennials and Generation-Z flood the fitness centres with starry-eyed ambitions to get chiselled abs, firm thighs, flat and perky butts.
Liquor sales will plummet as Sauls turn into Pauls, but it is fickly to do with resolutions, rather chiefly, because the pocket is no longer the oasis it was during the holidays but has drubbed into a gruesome barren hole.
But that is only until the 48 days of Njaanuary are over. Then the keyboard-happy KoT will begin the #resolutionfail hashtag. Once-packed gyms will once again be as full as a church in Garissa.
Deleted food apps will be reinstalled in the guise of ‘convenience,’ business plans and ideas will lie in state with no chance of either execution or burial and oh, ‘kupiga sherehe’ resumes in earnest.
By June, only a small fraction of people will have maintained the discipline and alacrity with which they started their resolutions.
The majority will remain foggy-headed, pot-bellied, empty shells of human beings merely existing, rather than living.
It then goes without saying that many fail at their resolutions because New Year’s resolutions suck in the first place.
They suck harder than your single, depressed self, declaring to get married ‘this year,’; they suck harder than the look of stupor on your face as you scroll down your Facebook feed for five hours straight, ogling at women and swashbuckling, writing mean comments on the posts of those you feel are doing better than you in life.
They suck damn harder than the 8-5 job you intend to quit for business because your fellow WhatsApp group members are into business.
Granted, everybody wants to be and do better in life. But correct me if I’m right, the important thing is identifying something you want to achieve and succeed at, committing yourself to doing something about it, coming up with some type of plan, and actually doing it.
This you can start on April Fool’s Day, Raila’s Birthday, or Just in June. It’s the action of self-improvement that’s important, not what you call it or which day of the year.
If you already came up with a list of how you will kill it in 2022 … don’t call them New Year resolutions. Just write them down and call them goals. Ignore the date and focus on getting them done. Removing the “resolutions” label will make it harder to easily abandon them and revel in your failure.
I do not make New Year resolutions, I set goals. You see, goals are unbound by time and untrammelled by circumstances. Goals are hinged on process. Read that again please- P-R-O-C-E-S-S.
They are driven by an innate passion, not dates. They are deeper and more long-term than the euphoria and lip service that come with a new calendar. Goals might take longer than a year to achieve, but they change lives completely.
Welcome to 2022!