Masaku 7s Sex Video

Dear Doris,

I have to write this really quickly! I do not have much time.

You were in my dreams last night. It was so vivid I could smell you. In the dream you did not say a single word! You did not smile or laugh. You stood right at the centre of my living room in a pink dress and no shoes. The wind would blow into the house, vigorously sending the curtains off the railings. Your hair danced to the wind. You were looking straight into my eyes. You just stood there. But you were not there when I woke up in the morning. A coffee table stood erect where you stood in my dream. The windows were closed and the curtains intact.

If you seriously think this has anything to do with Masaku 7′s then I strongly advise you stop reading here and go back to work or back to whatever you were doing before! But you can read on, I promise is is a good story!

My story is set at Oil Libya Westlands. The date is July 1st 2014 and the time is 9:55pm.

I was at Oil Libya buying pizza. If you buy a pizza from Pizza Inn on Tuesdays, you get another one for free. And this is what I was gunning for. I was also there to buy muffins!

A picture I got online when I googled Masaku 7s

A picture I got online when I Googled Masaku 7s

I walk up to the counter that was not as crowded as I had expected. Two Arabs were ahead of me. Lovers! I knew because of how the Arab man was holding the Arab woman’s waist. The Arab woman was tiny. She was pretty. She would tilt her head backwards every now and then so it would lie on the Arab man’s chest. They would look each other in the eye and burst out into indecent giggles. If the lights would go off at that moment and everyone absent, they would have probably had sex right there on the floor! I was sick from the sight of them. This is because Nairobi temperatures as low as 12* and I was standing right there, freezing my tiny ass off knowing very well I was going home to a pair of cold sheets and two pairs of cold pillows and a duvet that was purposeless and no Arab woman to share body heat with and yet these two were here having sex in their minds! I was utterly jealous! Yes I said it! I wanted an Arab woman who could put her head on my chest also!

But that is not my story! After the short dark lady behind the counter told me to wait 8 minutes, I walked to the mini shop to get my muffins then I sat at a table where I could not see two Arabs. We were separated by two magazine racks. But I could still hear them laugh! It ripped me apart!

In the midst of all this pandemonium of emotions, a guard walks in holding a white board with a number plate written on it! Normally this happens when a car that needs to leave has been blocked by another car! I couldn’t remember blocking anyone so I was least bothered by the limping guard! The whole place had less than 10 people so when no one got up to go ‘unblock’ whoever, I suspected I was the one blocking! I am blind so I could not see the writings on the board. I walked up to the guard and saw my plate number. I got out and moved my car to a different spot then went back in to wait for my pizzas. Please stay with me because this story is about to hit the roof!

I walked to my car with my pizzas and muffins. Thing is I was at the spot I had packed before I moved the car. And the craziest coincidence is, the car that was parked there was exactly like my own. The make. The colour. The everything!

Without being bothered, I got me keys out and opened the door (PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT I STILL HAVEN’T REALIZED THAT THIS IS NOT MY CAR) I put the pizzas and muffins on the co drivers seat that looked darker than usual. I stuck my keys into the ignition and the car burst out into a soft roar!

Shit hit me when I tried changing gears. The car was an automatic! Mine is a manual! At that point, I think, I vomited a little in my mouth! Everything was spinning so fast like I was drunk!

Hanging on my rear view mirror are two orange tiny sandals. This particular car had a tiny perfumed bottle. I looked at the back seat just to confirm my horrors. My back seat has a brown trench coat, my laptop bag, a leather folder and a burgundy woolen scarf! The car I was in had nothing at all on the back seat!

I turned the car off and looked out my window, the Arab couple were standing there, looking at me, the woman holding two pizza boxes!

My car has really dark tinted windows and for a man with my eyesight, it is almost impossible to see outside… But I could see these two so clearly! Tint free windows!

I slowly got out of the car and shut the door behind me! My plan was to start by apologizing and point at my car! But I just stood there. I could not move a single muscle. Do you remember when you were in primary school and you were called into the head teacher’s office because you were hitting mangoes with stones? You know that temporary paralysis that is ignited by absolute fear? I was there rooted on the spot! Trying to figure out how my car keys opened another car (second time this has happened)!

“Are you a car thief?” The Arab man asked! The ringing in my head was so loud I did not hear what he said… I read his lips.

The guy was bigger than me. Way bigger than I was. With one shove, he sent me on the ground! I sat on the ground leaning on my car’s doppelgänger! The woman looked at me and sneered! The man got his phone out and said he was calling the cops to teach me a lesson! A small crowd had formed around me at this time. This was because the Arab man had called a taxi guy loudly saying he had caught a car thief.

I cannot remember what was going through my mind at that time! I am not even sure if anything went through my mind!

The Arab guy was on the phone speaking at the top of his voice, like his phone was a mile away! He spoke in ‘Arab’! But after every minute or so, he would say, ‘tumemshika!’ If I had anything at all in my bladder, I would have let it out at this point!

When my paralysis finally wore off, I tried to explain that my car was at the far end of the parking lot and looked exactly like this one!

“Si mara ya kwanza wameiba gari hapa!” The guard who had the board earlier said! The crowd was getting bigger and fast! I plan to die of old age in a ranch somewhere in Wales, owning 1000 sheep and 400 horses and a few luxury cars… Not at a petrol station by mob justice in Nairobi! But at that moment, dying at a petrol station in Nairobi was more realistic!

I give the Arab man my keys and point at my car and tell him to go try opening it!

My car does not have that, ‘chwi chwi’ alarm thing for opening cars. It is manual. You have to stick your key in and twist! And sometimes, i jams! And this time, the only time I needed it not to jam, it jammed! The Arab man comes back really mad!

“Haifungui! Wanichezea?!” He asks. I ask him to give it to me so I do it by myself! He throws the keys at me and I walk to the car. The whole crowd follows me!

The guy had tried to open the door so hard that he had bent my keys!

I put the key in… Then twisted.. Nothing!

My car is called Esmeralda, and sometimes when I talk to her, she listens. I took the keys out… Took a deep breath… Then in my head, “Behave Esmeralda!”

Like an obidient child… It listened…

“Ni master-key!” Someone from the crowd shouted!

“Tutajuaje ni gari yako?” Another person said! Niggaz were hungry for my blood!

I explained that my backseat had a trench coat, a burgundy scarf, a leather folder and a laptop bag. I told the Arab guy to take out my laptop and he would see my name when he opened it! I showed him my ID beforehand as proof that I am Ian Arunga!

The Arab guy got into my bag and threw things all over the place. My Apple magic mouse dropped on the cemented lot. MY APPLE MAGIC MOUSE!!!

The guy yanks out my laptop and opens it! ‘Ian Sketch’!

He throws the computer on my back seat like it was a free product.

“Ako sawa!” He says and walks to his car. I follow him!

“Pizza zangu!?” I order! He hands me my things and I walk back to my car! Everyone is looking at me funny! The whole place had come to a standstill.

On my way home, while listening to the ‘Ligi Soo Remix’ by Rabbit I had downloaded earlier in the day (which is extremely cool with multiple crazy punchlines) my grandfather calls and tells me my uncle Dr. Okoth from Karabondi is dead! I have no clue who Dr. Okoth is!

“The early bird catches the worm, I am way ahead, ukianza kuamka mi nimeanza ku-deworm!” Wangechi (Ligi Sooo Remix)

Happy Birthday Jennifer (@hiuko)




Posted by on July 2, 2014 in near death, sex


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Another Shitty Story

Dear Doris,

You have seen me reduced to a vessel that’s nothing more than think of, love and miss you!  I have written you a few hundred letters that have gone un-replied… God knows if you even read them. Confessing my utmost attraction to you. You must truly be a terrible human being… It is either that or you changed your address. You cannot be a terrible human being, so I will force myself to believe, mtg letters have never reached you. And if that is the case, I pray they someday do! It is unbelievable how essential to me you have always been.

Back to business…

Saturday had itself a long night that started with a goodbye party for @Kipepeomjini who is leaving for the USA to go become more expensive to hire.

The party had food. Now let me explain. I am allergic to onions and fish and my system cannot digest lactose AT ALL! I hate avocado and I have never eaten it and I do not eat matoke. I am adventist so swine and anything eithout split hooves are never to be ingested. All I could eat in complete comfort is bread and chapati and water. This information is quite essential for the full understanding of what I am about to tell you.

The lady who was serving chapati did not like me very much because she gave the guy before me 3 pieces and the guy after me four pieces. I was give two pieces, which if put together makes half a chapati. HALF A CHAPATI! How was half a chapati going to change my life? 7 chapatis hardly makes any difference and here I was with half a chapati! I let it slide and served myself some mushroom, which is the core of this tale and not the chapatis.

At my table I rant a bit about the whole chapati business and everyone suggests I go back for seconds… I do! The chapati woman sees me and angles her eyebrows inwards, which was alright seeing that not everyone had eaten. I felt nothing and gave her my plate to add more chapati… She added 2 more pieces, which I thought was utterly inconsiderate and a test of my patience! I did not move a single step! I had skipped a few people who were already not too happy with me and now I was here creating a jam in the system.

“Ongeza!” I say with the authority of a pregnant woman to the father of her unborn child. Whilst looking straight at the buttocks of my retina, she slaps around 9 pieces on my plate… I was happy!

Before the party was over I feel the contents of my stomach somersault uncontrollably. I knew that instant that I had ingested something laden with lactose! It had to be the mushroom or the beans, but whatever it was, it wasn’t important because it was already inside me!

At that moment I slowed down my drinking. I was on Heineken and beer does not help a bad stomach at all! And then @MagungaWilliams tweeted me that alcoblow was near my gate, so I stopped drinking completely!

After the party, a good chunk of the party headed to Mercury ABC. Now walk with me very carefully!

AT ABC my tummy got worse. I love dancing and throwing my leg in the air uncontrollably but only the gods knew what would have happened if I would have kicked in the air! Only the gods know! I think Zeus knows best seeing he is deals with lightning bolts!

This is me kicking to Valu Valu...

This is me kicking to Valu Valu…

At about 4am, I had to go really badly! So because I know the downfalls of ‘going’ in the club, I dash to my car and attempt to drive home. I think in my head,”If I drive really fast, I can get to Madaraka in 10 or 12 minutes!” I wasn’t going to make it even if that time was halved! So I am seated in the driver’s seat my whole body is on fire! My thighs are slapped so tight I can feel blood clot at my knees! I was holding on to the steering so hard I noticed my ass was not even on the seat. I was suspended mid-air! I needed to find a solution!

I get out of my car and walk to the gents to gather intel and possibilities! First the place doesn’t even have a door so everyone who came into the gents would see my long legs. My dressing is flashy and even if I hid my face, someone would notice my shoes! That wasn’t going to work… I walk back to my car and clench my thighs together again!

I was stepping light on the tarmac. At this point even sneezing the wrong way wouldn’t be advised. I was in a particular state whereby even if someone hooted I would be finished….

Then a watchman asked me,”Budaboss uko pow!” (Are you ok?)

“Kuna choo safi around?” I ask, breathing slowly! “Yenye si ya ndani!” I add.

He stops to think for a second! A second I DID NOT HAVE!

“Kuna yetu pale juu!” He says pointing at the furthest end of the compound! IT WAS FAR! Right next to the exit! I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it alive!

We walk towards the ‘choo’! I meet friends on the way! People at the club always want to talk!! I summarise all of them! One really drunk one stopped me and asked me for 1000 bob because his card had been declined. I didn’t have a single cent on me because Alexander Muge had my wallet. The guy wouldn’t listen and he almost talked me into going back into the club to get it for him. Until the watchman muttered, “sina time mob Budaboss!” I had to go!

So I leave the guy stranded!

I ask the watchman if the toilet had tissue paper! It didn’t! “Lakini ntakutafutia!” He says!

We get to the watchman at the exit who is the one who normally has the keys to the toilet!

“Sijui ni nani amezichukuwa!” He says! My heart sinks horribly and my sphincter muscles almost let go! The compound has like 10 guards! It takes forever to find the keys! I am standing at the exit. Being as famous as I am, someone in almost all the cars recognised me. My story was, I lost my parking ticket and I was figuring out how to get out!

I was given 2 keys and instructions on what key opens what. But who could probably understand all that in my state!?

I dash to the door and I am fumbling terribly! Nothing was opening anything!

At this moment @Popzke spots me and calls out! I had no clue what I was going to tell him if he asked me what I was doing there! I walked to his car, watching my step and we talked for a bit! At this time I had given up all hope! Whatever was going to happen would be invited! Jehovah had the wheel. This guy had all the stories… Or rather, I didn’t have the timeeeee!

He finally leaves and I dash back to the door! It opens. Then there is a door on the left and another on the right!

Wait a second… Do you know when you are really pressed and you can hold it until you get to a bathroom and the pressure triples? Yes… Mine had tripled thrice!

I try the right one first! No key can open it! I try the left… No key can open it either! I try the right again…. Slower! Nothing! I say a two word prayer then I try the door on the left! “Please God!”

It opens! I collapse on the toilet seat… I saw the sun… The moon… The mountains and the rivers… I saw heaven!

The watchman was still out looking for tissue paper! I called Alexander Muge to hook me up! He doesn’t pick up his phone!

I wait for a short while then the watchman comes and waves a roll of tissue through the window!

“Budaboss uko fiti?” He asks (Are you ok?) I say yes… He asks 3 more times. It was time for me to leave.

I lock every door behind me on my way out!

Then I walk back… I flap my Armani jacket to get rid of the fresh smell as I walk… I am busted by @dodmichaela who I give the same ‘fixing my parking ticket’ story!

Alexander calls me back, quarrelling at the top of his voice asking me what I was calling him for as if I didn’t know where I had left him… I hang up! I had had enough shit for one night!

The rest of the night is for me to know and for you never to find out!



Posted by on June 10, 2014 in Alexander Muge, comedy, near death


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Highway to the Grave… Yard

My Doris, my all, My Chapati and Beef Stew,

You might not think it possible my love, but you and I will surely see each other not too far from this moment! Our bodies might be miles apart but your heart cannot run away from my own… and your image cannot escape my mind! You are closer than you would be if you were seated right next to me!

My heart is full of so many things to say to you. Like always. Ok maybe not always. But tales or no tales…. Letters or no letters… Thoughts or dead in the brain, worry not my fat yellow yellow beauty, I am yours and not even another YOU can take my love for you! Not even another you!!! Oh God – so near! so far!

I have not had my car for about a week. This statement in itself is enough drama! Walk with me now. I hit a pothole and broke something Matata, my mechanic, calls the hub!

Last week I got onto a matatu to Madaraka at 10pm just opposite Red Robbin. Here is where they stop after 9pm. Normally one would get one at bus station! I am not certain about the matatu number but I am sure it is a figure less that 20!

Normally when I leave the office that late and I do not have my car, I ensure I am with Denet. Denet is my colleague and friend. I have known him since high school. The first time I was slapped in high school I was with him. He was slapped too. We were making noise. I should write about that sometime! He is the size of a small carand I believe, from office grapevine, can eat multiple loaves of bread in one sitting! He might kill me for saying that! His purpose is to scare away bad people who would feel it is necessary to take away my MacBook Pro or my 5.2″ screen Samsung! My watches are also quite costly…

Denet walks me to the matatu then walks to his, which is never too far from mine! But this is not about Denet!

We had heard gunshots at Koja Bus Park and I was pretty scared that night. But normally when I am that scared, I smell a great tale…

The matatu too eons to fill up! I was the only one for about 15 minutes. Then this tall skinny black kid in amateur dreadlocks came and sat next to me! I was seated at the front! He was eating mabuyu and spitting the seeds on the floor of the matau! I didn’t mind this ape like behavior until o seed hit one of my shoes. They are not expensive shoes, but they are from England… AND YOU DO NOT JUST SPIT MABUYU SEEDS ON SHOES FROM ENGLAND!!!

I decided to get off and sit at the back on the front row. Here I lied to myself I could read a book. So I yanked out ‘The Boy in the Stripped Pyjamas’ and struggled to read under a flickering neon light! The book is utterly sad though… I love sad books!

The matatu did not leave that spot for about an hour… And even then, it was still not full. I later learnt why. We did not have a makanga!

The driver got in and spur out,”Funga mango twende!” That was for me because there was no one as close to the sliding door as I was. The thing felt like it hadn’t been greased… Or it had been greased using sand!

The driver, when we got to Haile Selassie roundabout the asks the ‘Mabuyu Seeds Spitter’ to collect the money from people. “Kama haunt exact shuka tafadhali!” The driver said and parked at the petrol station at the roundabout just to show how serious he was. This did not make sense because he would have said this before he left the stage! But apes will always be apes!

Uhuru Highway2 men got off! Friends. Luos! I mean, who else wouldn’t have ‘EXACT’? Heheh! They were speaking in Luo. One man to the other,”Jogi bo nyalowa Narobi kaendi!” (These people will ‘weza’ us here in Nairobi!)

The driver then drove off…

Let me explain! I had 8 thousand in my wallet… In thousands! When the ‘Mabuyu Seeds Spitter’ gestured to ask for my money, I shamelessly gave him a thousand shillings. He snitched to the driver immediately!

“Huyu hana ganji ndogo!” (This one doesn’t have ‘little’ money! The driver, I believe didn’t think for one second about what he did next! He, just at that spot where bulldozers are sold, got off the road and onto the pretend pavement and told me to get off! I thought it was a joke up until he got off and slid the un-greased sliding door and ordered me out!

“Jaribu hiyo ujinga penguin!” (Try that stupidity elsewhere)

I got off!

Now let me explain just how close to death I was! On the other side of the road is an old graveyard known as Makaburini. This fact alone is completely and entirely scary! But that was not my problem… The biggest issue was how unsafe the area is. The morning before that my colleague was telling me how her brother was cut on his head using a panga by thugs. And there are so many other cases like that.

My only chance of survival was to run to Nakumatt Mega. It is not too far from where I was abandoned. In fact, it is quite close! But distance doesn’t mean shit with a guy with a panga pursuing your ass!

I am a fast runner. But there is something that happens to you where you are totally freaked out! Not adrenaline… Whatever comes after adrenaline. It brings you to your knees!

A matatu slowed down near me and the making shouted,”Mkubwa ni lifo unatamani ama?” He asked. (Is is death you wish for or what!) “Unaenda wapi?” He continues!”

“Madaraka!” I answer. “Panda twende!” He suggests. This of course was too was. Maybe these were the thugs. I looked inside the matatu and counted 4 men and a woman! That woman was mad, getting into a matatu with 6 men at 10:30pm!

I get in!! I sit at the front!

The driver is called Jonathan Olande and speaks really good English. For a few minutes he quarrels me on why I was walking that stretch at that time of night alone. He doesn’t give me room to explain!

He drops me off at the Madaraka roundabout and tells me he is going to Langata and that was the furthest he could take me! When I was walking away he shouts,”Here is also bad! But you are used to danger, insn’t it?”

I run home and eat a chapati as I thank God about my life!

Below are videos to show how cray cray Makaburini is!



Posted by on May 30, 2014 in comedy, near death


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My Lovely Doris,

It has been a long while while since I wrote last. I miss you dearly. My heart skips several beats at the thought of your beauty… The thought of your lips against mine… The thought of your skin on mine!

I have not had time to write to you lately! I have stories for you though. There is one about a matatu dropping me off near a grave yard it the dead of the night because I didn’t have change for 1000 bob and another one where I was in the same compound with Shebesh and Sonko and there were gunshots and 1000 women screaming and shouting… At that same compound a policeman with a gun asked me to switch off the music we were listening to because it was too loud! But that one is for another day!

This is a letter I received at the beginning of this year. Another woman who is convinced she is Doris. She will state a few things she claims we did together! Do not believe her!

black-woman-writing-letterDear Ian,

You’re weird! I like weird! I love weird! I would choose weird any day.

Life has never let me choose though. If it had I would not be writing to you with tears in my eyes afraid that you are forgetting about me. I would wake up next to your freakishly long legs every morning… and other long things I remember about you. I would still be playing with your bee sting nipples on Saturday mornings while you read me funny comments on askreddit. I would be falling asleep on your chest while we watch a movie every night. We would be sharing a smoke after ruining dinner because we were busy catching a quickie. I would be wearing nothing under your t-shirt while we watch Boondocks on Sunday morning. I would be with you….

Remember our last night together? You tried singing to me. God, you have the worst voice. That didn’t stop you though; I have always loved that about you. That was one of the many nights we chose to stay in together rather than be out getting drunk and dirty with our friends. My friends were starting to complain by the way. I wore that red t-shirt of yours, that one that you always hated me for wearing because you had wanted to wear it too? Yes, that one.  Oh and you should stop looking for it, I took it with me. Your laugh was louder that night, your kisses deeper and your touch more gentle. Something was different about us that night. It was like we were not afraid to be vulnerable anymore, like nothing but us mattered. I had never been so certain of my love for you like I was on that day. As days pass, I am more convinced that I will never feel any different for you.

I hate that I had to leave but I kept something that will always remind me of that night. I kept a star from that night that shines brighter every day. Her name is Gian. She is lovely!

Something bothers me, you are not writing to me as much as you used to. You are even letting other men write to me, I don’t hate the attention. Worse, you wrote to Adele! The latter arouses very many different shades of jealous in me. What is happening to your feelings for me? Surely you are not going to forget about me, are you? I would hate to not have your letters to hug tight at night when my husband sleeps over at his third wife’s house. We need to talk; our talk has been long overdue. I am afraid, however, that I might not go back to my husband’s house if I so much as get a two second hug from you…. Aaaah your hugs! Those used to feel so good.

Please find a good woman to take care of you. I hear you are becoming thinner and are beginning to look sickly. I wish I could cook for you again but… well, responsibilities. Every once in a while I will sneak away for a smoke in honor of what we used to be. I hope you found your monglinyo, sorry had to put that somewhere.

I have to go make dinner and practice my happy look for when he comes…if he comes.

I luv you!

Yours now and forever,

The Real Doris


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An Orgy of Worms

Dear Doris,

I have not written to you in over a month. I have since been reduced to a vessel of thoughts and dreams of being with you again! I miss you in a quite simple desperate human way. I have never, not once, stopped thinking about you… And I will never, not once, stop loving you…. For the love I have for you is all that drives blood through my very body!

I have just come back to the office from Sarit Centre. I went by matatu. Sarit Centre has a lot of construction work going on at their parking lot lately and it is less hectic just taking a matatu there! My office is five minutes away. Also it is 20 bob!

‘Life has become a bit boring’ That is what I was thinking about up until I decided to clear my throat on the bus back to the office from Sarit!

Let me explain, If I take a matatu to work, it leaves me at Agip Bus Station, just near Times Towers in town. I get the next matatu to Spring Valley at Koja Bus Park/Fire Station! That is a definite 2 kilometres (My Nike+ phone app says I burn unto 300 Calories walking this stretch)  that cuts clean across the CBD. It is a long walk that destroys my shoes… I can sometimes almost feel their pain – My shoes! All the way from dustless streets of England to the heart of cracked pavements and fearless dust that is so fine that it penetrates through the leather! This can be seen from dusty toes in the evening!

Where was I?

Yes! As you walk through the CBD, there are all kinds of things you inhale. There is a dry cleaning shop next to Re Insurance Plaza that stinks of sodium hydrochloride that irritates the alveoli and a little further ahead, a bakery that smells of stale cake. There are a number of fast food joints that smell the same like they all use one chef! Poor fowl rotating helplessly on grills with metal rods that go through their body from anus straight up to the parting of the shoulders!

There are also shoe shops that smell of plastic with a recorded marketer playing from a radio! “VIATUUUUUUU! VIATUUUUUUU! MIA MBILIIIIIII! VIATUUUUUU!” over and over and over! And the numerous matatus and buses that bellow so much carbon monoxide as if they ran on fart instead of diesel!

By the time you get across town, your lungs are small factories! This normally gives you the urge to clear your throat! That is how the body is designed… I think! Let’s go back to the bus from Sarit!

I was standing holding the two parallel rods that run on the roof of the bus… It was a green and white bus – Walokana Bus! The bus smelled of a market. You know that heavy smell of vegetables going bad? And maybe a fart or two? The woman who sat in front of me had 2 gunias of cabbage that had each occupied a seat. She was big and dark! Her hair was thick and dark brown! Her clothes had almost no colour probably from washing them countless times and her gumboots were worn out! She was scary! The woman who sat on the opposite row, let’s call her woman A, had a hairstyle that looked like multiple obese worms orgied on her head. The man who sat next to her was dead asleep and his snore roared in harmony with the bus’ engine.



Then I cleared my throat!

You too are human, you have sometimes cleared your throat and, well, a thick ball of phlegm shot out of your mouth unintentionally! Yes? That is why it is always advised to cover the mouth when clearing the throat… Or coughing… Or sneezing!!! And for some people, even when taking!

Back to me…

A neat ball of phlegm shot out of my mouth so fast that I almost missed seeing it! With both my hands holding the two rods. The bustard found its way and neatly found its way to the cluster of worms on the woman A’s head! She felt it land on her head and even felt her head to feel what it was. She caught it and rubbed her fingers together to check on viscosity then looked at IT!

I looked around and realised three people had witnessed this. One of these people was the cabbage dealer!

“Mwambie ama nimwambie!” The woman who dealt in cabbage said loudly looking straight into my eyes…

I looked at the woman I had just planted DNA on and she looked right back!

“Mwambie!!!” The cabbage dealer repeated… I just stood there rooted on the spot! Felt like I had swallowed an avocado. I could not breath! The other two people who saw what happened just stared at me blankly!

The cabbage dealer was so loud that she caught the attention of half the bus!

“Ni nini Njoki?” the tout asked the cabbage dealer…

“Kutema tema mate ovyo…” Njoki replies still waiting for me to confess… My office was still a bit far out but I was willing to get off! There exists a peculiar idleness in Nairobi that can see one lynched for the stupidest of reasons!

“Nishukishe!” I tell the tout who ignores my plea and turns to Njoki! “Nani ametema mate!?” He asks…

“JISEME!!!!” Njoki shouts not looking at anyone in particular!!!

Someone had to get off so the bus stopped… I jumped out almost dislocating my wrist on the door…

I think Njoki told the woman what had happened before the bus left because she, Woman A, spat at me through the window missing me by a prayer!!! It landed right at the tip of my left shoe! Nothing wet wipes couldn’t handle!!!

P.S – For all #DearDoris fans who voted and supported US throughout the BAKE Awards period, thank you so much! We came in 2nd place in Best Creative Blog and 3rd Place in Best Kenyan Blog. Keep reading, I will keep writing! I had no clue so many people thrive on my misfortunes! :)

I love you all…


Posted by on May 12, 2014 in comedy, matatu tales, near death


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My Dearest and My Most Beloved Friend Doris,

Jaherana, if all that I have said and done and yet to say and do, have not convinced you of the immense love I have for you. If all the letters I have written and all that went unread but I still write… If all these things I endure for the sake of you and I to exist… Then my Doris I have nothing more to offer!

My house help comes twice a week to cook and do the cleaning – That is Wednesdays and Saturdays! I picked those two days because city council water is opened for Madaraka residents on those days! If she would show up on a different day we would run out of water! She comes in at around 8am. On some Wednesdays, she gets there after I have already left for work.

This next part is very important and it is the backbone to this letter!

Normally when this happens, I leave for her wages on top of the microwave and some money to buy food for cooking! Now listen very carefully, if she comes and does not find this money at the usual spot, it has all sorts of major implications on my life! This is one of them:

It is Thursday today… This means she was at my house yesterday! I forgot to leave her money on top of the microwave. Actually, I didn’t forget, I didn’t have it!

She sends me a text, “Wewe pesa?!” I do not respond. She sends another, “Please call me thank you. Join, Save and Stand a chance to win on Fanikisha Na M-Shwari!” I ignore again. I did not know if she wanted me to leave my office, seven roundabouts away and bring her the money because by now she should have already deduced that I didn’t have money on Mpesa either – If I did, I would have suggested I send it!

Long story short, I did not send the money! So she didn’t cook… If she doesn’t cook, I have to go buy myself greedy fast food, but because I work till 11pm, the only fast food open at that time being the chicken choma joint at Nairobi West Mall!

I spot a lot of cops in Nairobi West. Way more than usual. I meet like 6 walking together near National Oil… Then another four up the road… My gut advised me to leave the place and just go home… But my gut was the same hungry idiot! So I march on!

I find 3 Black Marias just outside Nairobi West Mall. I stupidly thought to myself that maybe cops came out to have a drink! Oh Black Marias are those huge lorries cops roll with!

When I was turning into the parking lot, which was almost empty, one of the lorry drivers spat with  terrible sarcasm taste, “Kijana umeona parking hapo!?” I was confused for a second or two because I was actually looking at a free spot when he asked that!

I parked my car on the opposite side of the road on a pavement and went to my kuku choma guy, Obama!

As I waked in, I saw about 12 armed cops walk into the ‘mall’! Trust me, beyond this point, I was sure I needed to leave that place, but I needed new material for Doris, so I stayed on!

“Choma half!” I tell Obama who is visibly shaken!

About 3 minutes later, like 50 guys were led out of the mall… Then about 20 people… This went on until there was absolutely no one! No one except Obama, his assistant and I!

“Maze wamesafisha hata machoo… Kila msee amebebwa!” Obama’s assistant narrated in a whisper! “Wamekam na Cadillac tatu!” (Cadillac, I later learnt, was what he called the Black Marias)

As he spoke two cops were walking right behind us! I was sure we were going to be taken away by these two! My heart was racing! I tried to look like it is only chicken I came for… There is not specific look for, ‘it is only chicken I came for!’ The two cops stood right behind me! I could feel them look at me… But I couldn’t look at them because that is how people get arrested by Kenyan cops sometimes… Staring at the wrong damn time man!

Obama, his assistant and I were completely quiet for a bit… So were the cops… The ground beneath my feet felt cold… I felt a strong urge to urinate my pants! Everything was quiet except the sizzling chicken on the grill! Obama was busy grilling that chicken even though it was so clear it was ready! The thing was burning!

A man shouting, “You cannot arrest me! I am here waiting for a taxi!” Broke the silence! I turned my head to witness the hottest life threatening slap land on the man’s face. The guy was big, way past healthy size! His shirt was untucked and two buttons undone! He wore a pale pink shirt and shiny fray pants that shone in the night… Shiny fabric is cheap fabric! He held his laptop bag with both hands even though it had a sling! He was clearly not ready to leave wherever he was… After he was slapped, he majestically walked to the Black Maria! Like he wasn’t slapped!

The two cops were still behind us…

“Wewe unakaa malaya!” One cop said. His voice was rough like honey had never passed through his larynx his entire life!

Male+Prostitute_ef26b7_3957419Every raised their heads (every being Obama, his assistant and I)! For a split second I was sure the cop was talking to a skimpily dressed female human! His gun was pointed at me!! Nothing made sense for the next few milliseconds until he repeated himself! “Wewe unakaa malaya!” The man pointing right at me! Obama’s assistant couldn’t take it… He burst out laughing!

“Wewe twende!” The same judging cop told him and led him away! Obama and I were left so confused. The chicken he was making was now black and crisp! He removes another one from a bucket and starts over!

The cops leave with three full Cadillacs!

“Mara ya pili this week wame sweep wasee hivyo! Ebu nikumalizia nikwatowe staff wetu!” Obama says!

Driving home, I kept looking at myself, trying to figure out what made that cop think I look like a prostitute! I was completely and decently clothed, my hair was real (if I had any), my nails were not a shade of deep red and neither were my lips and I didn’t raise one leg in the air to show my private parts! I didn’t have on white patent leather boots that rode up to my thighs… And I wasn’t chewing gum disgustingly! I didn’t even have my legs covered in those fish net things!

Oh well… I guess we will never know!


Two hundred shot!

*This is for Pooh*

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Click to vote for Dear Doris



Posted by on April 3, 2014 in comedy


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My Doris,

My beautiful Doris, I love you without knowing how I am doing it! I find myself loving you with every myogenic muscle of my heart… I do not know when I am loving you… I have no clue how not loving you feels… I do not fathom how these floods of emotions get to me! Honestly speaking… From the bottom of my heart… I have no clue how not to love you… Come to me and let me smother you with love!

I write to you because I have missed you… With every word I write I imagine the reaction engulfing your face with every word you read… I want you to get more and more excited with every single paragraph… To get excited to the point where you have to stop and catch your breath at some point… But a part of me tells me you didn’t even tear open the envelope!

I was thinking about what to write about this morning… And like most times, I had nothing! Until I remembered BOOTLEGGERS!

Bootleggers is a club in Kisumu. Can you already feel the adrenaline? Ok, maybe not! After driving around Kisumu one Thursday night we decided to try out Bootleggers before we completely gave up on the dead Thursday night scene Kisumu offers! It is quite evident ‘Bendover Thursdays’ didn’t spill out of Nairobi and to the shores of Nam Lolwe…

On that particular night, Kisumu was completely asleep… Except for the random guy riding his bicycle in the dead of the night carrying a large woman who had her hands round him like he had jut promised her the world… I know the woman was very close to the man. Ignoring completely the way she dangerously embraced the man, her left cheek was errorlessly laid upon the rider’s back! Like she was asleep… She finally gets to lay her head on her lover after a long day at the Oile Market! The mud guard of the bicycle written poetically, ‘Mapenzi bila jaso’ The perfect love story.

We get to Bootleggers and it felt like it was on a different time zone! The place was pregnant with human beings uncontrollably pouring out of the tiny entrance… Young slender girls wearing tiny white shorts and knee-high boots and cowboy hats had tequila bottles in holsters around their waists. I see these ones everywhere! Whose idea was this?

We get in and the place was wild…

Let me explain, Nairobi women dance… But Kisumu women GET DOWN!!! And it is alllll of them! It was like walking into a shoal of dancers! A few steps into the club and there, right there, on the floor, was a woman dancing on her hands, being wheelbarrowed by a dreadlocked man in red Timberland boots… Not too far from her was another woman atop the shoulders of another man… I am just trying to say that the place was a zoo…

The DJ was a wide Luo man definitely of Jamaican decent or wished so hard to be… He uttered meaningless words that got the crowd soooo pumped up! He would go like, “Anadi quagmaya, an di dimpling… And di boombooclat rasta… PWOOO PWOOO!” And the crowd would go like, “PWWWOO PWWOOO!”

All of us get a table right in the middle of all the conundrum. Every now and then an ass would hit my head… I wouldn’t complain though!

Totally out of topic: There is a breed of women in wielding big buttocks called ‘Socialites’. If whoever knighted them would by any chance travel to Nyanza, a huge ass percentage would automatically be knighted as such… See what I did there? huge ass percentage? Oh forget it!

Back to my tale!

I notice two women seated at the bar… One large and the other almost half her size. They were extremely conspicuous! Everyone was vigorously dancing, a calm should would stand out like the devil in a cloud of angels!

Let me explain my dilemma… I like big women but the small woman was wayyyy prettier! I am blind, so before I make a move I decide to take a wing-man with me.

We walk to the women and my wingman quickly picks the big girl, which I had no problem with… Let me explain why!

The big girl was ‘big’ which gave her like 44%. But that was it. She wore an avocado green blouse… I hate everything to do with avocados! She was wearing those denim pants with rips across the thighs. And because she was really big, she poured out of them. It didn’t look nice… I like neat and rips do not excite me! Then she could not shut the hell up… For a human being who speaks from the top of her lungs, it was the last trait I expected. Imagine a woman who talks REALLLY LOUD… NON STOP! Then last but definitely not least, she had a mole under her chin that could set off a metal detector!

The tiny one on the other hand was quiet… She wore a white vest and an Ankara pencil skirt… At least some art in her! She covered her shoulders with her black jacket… She hadn’t worn the jacket… She just placed it on her shoulders… So divine! She had her arms crossed which is a terrible sign…

I get her talking. In half an hour, I learn she is a farmer (WHICH WAS TOTAL BOLLOCKS BECAUSE HER EQUITY BANK NAME TAG WAS STILL ROUND HER EFIN NECK) But then again she might have been… She farms strawberries…. (TOTAL EFIN BOLLOCKS) or maybe she did! She is drinking white wine. Drinking white wine like it is Dextrosalt! She had 3 glasses in half an hour… Good thing is I got here laughing! Marilyn Monroe says, “If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything!”, so I go for the total clown… The harder she laughs the closer I am yes?

Maybe this is how the Strawberry Farmer saw me in there!

Maybe this is how the Strawberry Farmer saw me in there!

Wait! Did I mention I had chicken tikka for dinner on that day? And I am totally lactose intolerant? And chicken tikka has like loads of yoghurt? Well, if not then this here is the twist!

My tummy at this moment is rumbling out of control and it was getting hard to differentiate the need to pee and the dire need to shit! That is when you know shits hitting the fan!

I excuse myself… I am in the toilet… I have my projectile pointed at the urinal but I am scared to piss… Because I feel things move inside me withe the slightest release of my bladdular muscles! Taking a piss was risking way too much… So I decide to do it… Take a shit in the club… NEVER TAKE A SHIT IN THE CLUB!!!

I take like 5 minutes immaculately layering tissue paper on the toilet seat because no one knows what diseases lurk on that clay… You might catch a cold… Or worse, a cough!

I am seated doing my thing… Going through Instagram on my phone… My small bro comes to check on me because I told him I had a bad tummy…

Then guess what…

Wait: Did I mention the toilet doesn’t have a lock!? If not then here is a twist…

The door flung open almost sending it off its hinges and there stood The Strawberry Farmer! Looking straight into my innocent eyes… She stood there for a second, which is a second too long for this particular situation… And she got in right in the middle of a good push… My life, as I knew it then, was finished!

The farmer does not even apologise!

I stay food a bit longer… My almost full Heineken is erect next to her glass of wine… I was torn between getting that one and buying a new one…

Life as we know it, is really short… People have to take risks… So I go and take my beer… The farmer wouldn’t even look at me… Like instead of shitting, she coughs strawberries…

I think I really shocked her… But then again, what was she doing in the men’s? Oh shit… Was she a man?

I am sorry about the title. How else would I have gotten your attention?!

P.S: Have you voted for Dear Doris for Blog Awards Kenya today? Dear Doris was nominated for Best Creative Blog & Best Blog of the Year 2014. Please vote for me us here:


Posted by on March 27, 2014 in near death, women tales


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