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PORN IN NYALENDA


My Lovely Woman,

My heart is heavy as I write this. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this. It is not even about you this time. Something beat you to my ‘what makes my heart heavy’ this time. I wish you were here, to take away all this pain and fever.


I grew up in Kisumu. I spent most of my life wondering the streets of Kibuye Estate and Nyalenda. I apologise my Rundaness might fool you though. I had friends from all over the place. This was solely because I was a very cool kid and I went to six nursery schools. Yes! Six nursery schools. I went to Bayani, Aga Khan, MM Shah, Arya, Siri Guru Sigh Sabah and Bhagini Samaj (All Indian schools). I was a famous. Most of the kids in Nyalenda called me Mayor (or Meya if said in a strong Luo accent). It killed my mother, me having so many ghetto friends in Nyalenda. She could not stand the numerous dirty children who streamed into her manicured lawns. I even stole food from the house to feed some of these kids. My best friends were Daddy and Philipo who is now a bouncer at the famous Club Buccaneers in Kisumu.

In Nyalenda, we had the ‘Cinemas’ best known locally as ‘Ka Movie’. Nothing like IMAX or Fox Cinemas though. These were 5 shillings movies that were aired on a 20 inch TV that barely had colour. The sound was terrible and the picture grainy. This tiny TV was set ontop of a deck (VCR) on a high table at the front of a really dark room with life threatening air supply. Ten to fifteen wooden benches (like the ones in churches in shagz) of different heights were set in from of the TV, just like at the movies, lowest to the highest ones at the back of the room.

The room was a tiny hall of 5 by 10 metres. The windows were small and set high up the wall like the ones in a Muthaiga Police Station prison cells. The cemented floor had eroded from the thick traffic of human beings hungry for a good movie. The windows were blinded by a thick black curtain that blocked most of the light and oxygen from getting into the room.

This room could handle up to 60 seated people at a time. But when Manchester United was playing Arsenal, all the benches were taken out and people stood… This could be any number from zero to a million and seven!

6 movies showed at Ka Movie every day. Most were intense action movies. Rambo First Blood, Commando, American Ninja… Some really intense shit! Movies those days didn’t come out in bulks as they do these days. There were very few ‘new’ movies at a time. Titanic came out and nothing newer hit Ka Video screens in like 2 or 3 months. Because of this reason, movies were often replayed during the week with a random Nigerian movie thrown in.

Kids in the estate flooded Ka Movie. They could watch American Ninja every other day. Ka Movie was home to kids who did not go to school and unemployed adults.

Kids  would walk out of that room and imitate their best Starring (actors). The term Starring was derived from the dusty black board outside Ka Movie. There would be a cover picture of the movie and beside it the names of the guys who stared in the movie. Example: Universal Soldier starring Jean Claude Van Damme!

It would cost you 5 shillings to watch an ‘old’ movie. Old here being a movie that had been playing everyday for more than 2 months. To watch a ‘new’ movie or Titanic was 10 shillings. Titanic was always 10 shillings because it was a really long movie. Also Titanic was loved by local couples. Boys took girls to watch Titanic, and Jesus knows what happened in that oxygen-less darkness. I am certain a boy made in there walks this earth today!

A football match was 10 shillings as well. Manchester United and Arsenal matches were 20 shillings. Nigerian movies were 5 shillings because they were too many! I think a new set of Nigerian movies were shown every week. I remember watching my first Nigerian movie at Ka Movie… It was called From Grace to Grass. Scariest shit ever. There was a full day fee of 40 shillings. For 40 shillings, you could watch all six movies of the day. This fee could not be transferred to a different day or a different person.

Now you might be asking yourself what I was doing in such places. Let me explain. We have never owned a VCR. Never! Never ever! This would be a shock to my classmates in primary who I told we had 3 VCRs, one of which was in my room. I am sorry I lied to you all. When I was a kid, I sold our first and only coloured tv for 10 shillings. That story is somewhere on this blog. My father swore he would never buy another coloured tv. And he never did. So Ka Movie was the only place I could keep up with my classmates on ‘who had watched what.’ It was near impossible to have watched something I had not. I saved 10 shillings off my lunch money everyday and spent most of my weekends at Ka Movie.

My mother did not know about this though. Every time we drove past Ka Movie, she would warn me never to go there. She told me the estate thieves hid there from the police.

I frequented Ka Movie so much that it got to a point the movie guy allowed me to watch movies for free except football matches. I have never been a football fan so I was pretty fine with the deal.

There was one thing I could not fathom though. From 1pm to 2pm the dusty blackboard outside Ka Movie that had the movies, was blank. The only thing written on this part was 50 shillings. I asked myself countless time why someone would pay 50 shillings to watch nothing! I knew about the canoodling couples at the Titanic screenings so I figured couples paid 50 shillings to do ‘bad manners’!

So one time I sat outside Ka Movie at 1pm to see which people got in. And for about 15 minutes, not a single woman got in. Men flocked the doors though. It was very confusing. I was old enough to know that for bad manners to go down, men and women had to go in. I was still very confused so I decided to investigate further.

The next week, I went into the 10am movie and when it ended at about midday, I hid under the benches at the back when people were leaving. For about an hour, I was alone in that room. Waiting!

At about 1pm, two men walked in speaking loudly in Luo. I could understand what they were talking about but it did not make sense. One guy explained to the other that they had to play the same ‘clip’ as yesterdays because the supplier had traveled to Uyoma. The other was worried that the customers would complain. The other suggested they should charge half for that day.

I could see them test a video but I could not see anything plus there was no sound. It is tricky trying to watch something from under a bench and staying quiet at the same time. They switched off the tv and left the room.

It was not long until men started streaming in. I could hear the voice of one woman but I could not see her. I got out from my hiding spot and sat on the furthest bench from the tv. It was too dark and I thought no one would see me there.

“Inbe in ka!?” (Luo: You are here?) A random man asked me.

“Ee,” I replied with confidence. He looked a bit confused.

After everyone got in, the movie guy put on some really loud reggae music. The tv was still off. Then the movie guy did something I had never seen him do before… He locked the door from inside. Normally he would stand at the door and leave it open just enough to see outside.I was scared at this time. Why were we being locked in a room together? Everyone else was so excited though. There were no new movies so it was quite confusing to see them all jumpy.

The movie guy switched on the tv. Whatever was about to play was like nothing I had watched before. It started with the credits.


To read the rest of this story, please go to our new home here:  www.mydeardoris.com

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Posted by on November 24, 2014 in comedy

 

FOR bikozulu


Dear bikozulu,

You are looking for a guy to design a logo for your blog. I am not the guy you are looking for. If the guy you are looking for is what you described here, then I am farthest from it!

This is why… I oiled my elbows this morning and I always do (your guy doesn’t). ALWAYS here being since class 7 when my desk mate, Rachel, told me my elbows are the ashiest pair she had ever seen, and ‘girls do not like ashy elbows’ … And I like girls!

I am 6’2” with porcelain dark skin and long feet. My hair is short, almost bald. I go to my barber every Friday and I always make my bed. I sprayed some deo on and lotioned my whole body accordingly. This porcelain skin is high maintenance.  I always wear dress pants and a shirt to work (I just stopped wearing slim ties to work just the other day)… My shirt is always tucked in and belt fastened. I can’t stand sagging pants. I believe that if the probability of you waking up in a new $2.4M car (and not knowing how you got there) is zero then you have no business sagging your pants.

I own one pair of jeans… ONE! I wear them on Saturdays. I live in Madaraka, not Langata or Thika road! The closest I have come to living on Thika Road was an almost daily trip to USIU to see my then girlfriend.

My apartment has excess parking! EXCESS! This is evident from the multiple ‘visiting’ cars that you see Saturday night/Sunday morning. Plus my household has multiple cars that all have their own spots.

The last time I took a jav to work was because I was looking for a story for my Doris… I never have headphones or earphones on. My eyesight is terrible and my hearing is vital for my locomotion!

My laptop bag is a Gili genuine leather messenger bag (not a backpack) and my current job is not my first one… Or second… Or third! My first job was a sales and marketing gig *promoting* Blue Band Choco and it lasted two weeks. A girl I liked at the time walked into the supermarket I was posted in and there was no way I was going to let her see me in a yellow BB t-shirt holding a margarine tin. I would die! Oh my heavens I would surely die! My ego would have never let me be seen that day! I lost my job because I left my outlet before ‘hometime.’

I am not 23 and my MacBook Pro has one sticker that I designed (It is of Eve holding the lighting ‘Apple’ and a snake looking at her – genius huh?). I have just over 2,000 followers on Twitter and about 20 unread messages on Facebook (If you count the Dear Doris Facebook page ones). You got me on this next part though. About DMing chics for a ka-plan. Guilty! I am single and I have a missed call from my brother that I really need to return.

I do not drink in town, the last time I did that, well, that is a Dear Doris letter. I drink Heineken, not Tusker and I am a lover of single malt whiskey! I do not smoke! Pictures of me smoking exist online though… PHOTOSHOP!

My mtumba guy is a 7 foot motor mouth Luo man called Ojal! From Sunbeam. He knows my measurements off head! That sounds wrong! Great guy, ask for him next time you are in Sunbeam. He might force a paisley shirt on you though… He loves paisley. He seems to believe paisley will save humanity.

My handwriting is beautiful… Spot on Biko! Spot on! It is that or all these people I write letters to lie to me so I can keep writing. I still write letters… Paper, envelope, post office etc. If you have been wondering how Posta Kenya is still afloat, now you know. I am not a football fan. I have never watched a football game to the end! I am an Arsenal fan though. I have no clue who plays for the team currently! I am still stuck on the days Thierry Henry was the team’s striker and Ashley Cole was in defence. And Silverman in mid… Was there a Silverman? I was in form two!

I read your blog sometimes, I like it, and I am a book lover. I even work for a publishing company! I have written four books for children that were approved by KICD for the Kenyan school curriculum (I had to fit that in)… And I design billboards. 

HAHA! And Magunga Williams sent Me an inbox on Facebook tha you were looking for me! Magush, did you read the piece?

I am that fashionably dressed, ‘established graphic designer’ you are tired of! I do not have a moody grin though, this smile is genuine!

And that is that… I am not the man you have described, but I decided to try coming up with a logo for your blog either way.

The logo I have designed is of a red canvas shoe with it’s shoelace tangled out spelling out ‘bikozulu’. I think it is pretty rad!

I chose this design entirely from what I see you blog as and what you have described it as… A Relaxed Space, sexy, suave and urbane… (among the other adjectives you used). Do you know how relaxing and comfortable canvas shoes are? You can run in them… You can wear them to the club… You can wear them with a suit… You can wait tables in them… You can wear them everywhere… They are comfortable and they look good! Thus the design! The tangled shoe string is to signify what lies behind the comfort – It is never smooth all the way right? And the red is just for drama… PLUS what says KICK ASS better than a shoe :D?!

I am trained to go on and on explaining elements used in a logo and I can go four more paragraphs but I will stop here and let the logo speak for itself.

bikozulu-01

That Dear Doris Guy.

**Edited by @Owahh because I can’t spell to save my life**

 

 
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Posted by on November 14, 2014 in comedy

 

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URINE AND OTHER SHORT STORIES!


Dear Doris,

I had praised you yesterday!

I went to Barding Secondary School. I am certain you are wondering where this school is (that is if you are new here). Well, Barding (pronounced BaRRding) is in the soul of Siaya District. About 10 kilometres off the main road. That might be a SLIGHT exaggeration but it sure felt like 10 kilometres!

If you are at the soul of a rural setting, there are a few things that are just impossible to get. One of those things is electricity! Another one is yelo yelo women, but that will not be our focus today! It would take several hundred electric poles to take electricity to these places, so the villagers who can afford it get generators and solar panels, some get pressure lamps, the rest just go accapella*, when darkness sets in, it’s a wrap!

©Barding Lamp Lighters of 2003!

© Barding Lamp Lighters of 2003!

You have probably deduced that we did not have electricity in Barding! We used pressure lamps! We had prefects called ‘lamp lighters’ in every class. These niggas were gods! They ate before everyone else and didn’t carry seats to church every Sunday morning (Form 1s & 2s had to carry seats from school to church every Sunday morning. The church was a stone’s throw short of a kilometre) A lamp lighter made sure his class was lit every dawn and night preps. He was familiar with all the pressure lamps in the school and had to be quick in choosing the best lamp for his class. A lazy one always got a dim beat up lamp and everyone would end up falling asleep, because no one could study in that light!

BUT this story is not about electricity! It is about clean water! We did not have enough of this as well! With only one borehole to serve a population of 500, it was near impossible to get clean water. NEAR F*CKIN IMPOSSIBLE! People fought at the borehole. People made friends at the borehole (it is easier to fight for water when you are two guys). Some people made money at the borehole (I paid people to fight for my water. You would get a cup of water for 5 bob or 10 bob). My nails are not built for fighting at the borehole!

To make life easier, students would wake up at wicked hours of the night to get water from the borehole when the rest of the village was asleep. 3am… 2am! If you were lucky, you would get  20 litres of water (in a jerry can) or a basin full of water! Whatever you collected was extremely valuable (liquid gold) and I will explain why in a bit!

This is a map showing  Barding and its environs. See how far we had to go to take a bath? Click on this picture to see how far the main road was from the school. (It is the dirt road up till Karemo Stage)

This is a map showing Barding and its environs. See how far we had to go to take a bath?
Click on this picture to see how far the main road was from the school. (It is the dirt road up till Karemo Stage)

98% of the school could not wake up in the dead of the night to get water. So, to bath, they (we), had to RUN for 5 kilometres to an abandoned gold mine (which was used by every living organism in that village. Bathing in the same water catchment as a shitting cow was extremely normal) that had collected water over the years. AND I AM NOT EVEN LYING! We had to RUN because we had like 45 minutes to go to this gold mine, bath and make it back to school before 6pm (if you were late you would be locked out of the school until after dinner)! So we had to RUN to the gold mine… bath… then RUN back! You would sometimes get to school filthier than you left! The gold mine was called Ongoro* by the way! So you see why people woke up at 3am to get water?

image

The famous abandoned gold mine! ‘Ongoro’ – See students all over the place!

People who were able to get water in the night had to keep it safe. DO YOU KNOW HOW IMPOSSIBLE IT IS TO KEEP A BASIN OF CLEAN WATER SAFE FROM 500 PEOPLE WHO DO NOT HAVE IT BUT REALLY WANT IT?!

The best people could do was keep this basin of water under their beds and keep checking on it every once in a while. It was stolen 3 out of 5 times. Another way to secure your water was to store it in a jerrycan under your bed then lock the handle of the jerrycan to the mesh under your bed. This ensured no one would tilt the jerrycan and pour the water out. But a thirsty man is a very dangerous man. You would get people who would undo your bed to pour the water out!

The 3rd way to secure your water (which didn’t secure it at all by the way) was to piss in it! It did not safeguard your water at all, but it consoled your heart that whoever stole your water showered in your piss! (Prefects had a room where they locked their water)

I want to concentrate on the above paragraph. Let me explain to you how I found out that people pissed in their water.

Very many times, when we didn’t have drinking water, one would just run into the dorms and check under the beds for a basin of clean water and like a cow, drink from it. You had to be quick and we almost never used hands. Wet hands is just undeniable evidence! WHERE WOULD ONE GET WET HANDS FROM? IN A PLACE WITH NO WATER!?

I know you must be wondering whether this same basin we were drinking water from is the same one we used for bathing and washing our underwear and school uniform … Yes it was! Yes it was! I am living proof that dirty underwear-soaked soapy water can’t kill you! Do not try it though, you will die!

Where was I?

Yeah, so there is this one time I sneaked into the dorm at class time to look for drinking water. It was completely illegal to be in the dorms at class time, so I was sure I was the only one there. I got an orange basin with the cleanest… purest water from under a bed that was next to mine! The water either belonged to Rodgers or the form one who slept on the top bank of his bed! I looked around to see if anyone was watching then when the coast was clear (see what I did there? Coast? Water? Aghh forget it) I pulled the basin of liquid gold from under the bed. It was as clear as Evian mineral water from the French Alps!

There was a strange smell that came from it but the water was too clear for the smell to be anything serious!

I went down on that water and in sure, confident gulps… Drunk away! And drunk… And drunk… Stolen water is so sweeehhhhhhhhh!

I had not noticed that Rodgers was asleep on the top bank. He had stuck his head out to look at me! I only saw him when I let out that ‘AHHHH’ you let out after a nice cold drink of water. I almost pissed in my pants! I was flabbergasted! Hehehe! I just wanted to use flabbergasted! I was shocked, not because the nigga had been there all that time, but because he was not doing anything about the situation! I was supposed to be dead! A normal ‘Ja Bare’ would have killed me for messing with his water!

Even stranger, he pulled back his head and said, “Kunywa tu. Sina noma. Ungeuliza lakini.” This was very weird…. Stolen water might be sweet… Lakini with permission, IT IS SOOOO MUCH SWEETEERRRR! And like that, I went down again and drunk some more! And some more… Then let out a sanguine burp!

It is only with the second, ‘AHHHH’ that he informed me, “Baithewei* nilinyora kwa hio woiyes*. Ni miujiza haujanotice!” (By the way, I pissed in that water. It is a miracle you haven’t noticed) It was at that specific moment that I tasted the salt! It was so obvious that I could not understand how I would have missed it! Then the smell… The thing, UNDOUBTABLY, had piss.

I had no clue how to react. It is not like someone tells you that you have drunk their piss everyday! So I just stayed there. On my knees. Facing the water. I didn’t move a muscle.

I was rooted on that spot trying to figure out wether to vomit and face dehydration or put my chin up and walk away with a quenched thirst! I could feel the vomit build up from deep within my insides! If I did vomit, it would have been like taking diamond back to the belly of the earth! So I got up on my feet, said thank you, then walked out of the dorm fighting the urge to vomit what had built up to the extent that I had to persuade ‘it’ to stay inside!

As this was going on, the thought of drinking another man’s urine crossed my mind and I swear to whomever you swear to that I have NEVEEEER vomited as hard as I did! Vomiting out water is not a walk in the park! I almost vomited my rectum out!

You would expect me never to drink water from a basin again, right? Well, from then on, I smelt the water first before I drank it!

New words:

Ja Bare – noun Pronounced ‘ja Barre’, is what we called each other in Barding.

Swwwweeeeehhh – adjective Modern lingo. Means sweet. (In a sentence: Acapella is so sweeeeeehhhhhh)

Accapella – adjective Sex without a condom. (In a sentence: Acapella is so sweeeeeehhhhhh)

Ongoro – noun An abandoned gold mine in the heart of Alego that has since collected water to form a large pond like feature. (In a sentence: Swimming in Ongoro is so sweeeehhhhhh)

Nyora – verb To excrete urine. (in a sentence: Maze joh najiskia kunyora design ingine noma!)

Baithewei – idiom (see also: by the way) incidentally (used to introduce a minor topic not connected with what was being spoken about previously). (In a sentence: Baithewei napenda chapo sana)

Woiyes – noun Water (In a sentence: Boss si unisave wiyes, nadedi thirst!)

 
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Posted by on October 31, 2014 in barding tales, comedy, near death

 

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A WATERFALL OF SH*T


My Dear Doris,

I can’t remember the last time I wrote to you my Love. The truth is, I went silent to see if you really cared. To see if you will write back to check if I am alive. I have since learnt that you do not care. Which kills me. But it is fine Doris. It is not like I chose to fall madly in love with you right? It is not like I planned to meet you! It is not that God decided to plant the fullest of hips on you… Or naturally lighten your skin… Doris, what I am trying to say is, it is not my fault to have fallen this deeply for you. It is not my fault! And it kills me that you treat this like it is my fault! We loved each other Doris. Madly! What happened to us? What happened to us sensing the other was not well.. What happened to those long hours in each others arms? What happened to ‘We do not care what our parents think?’… What happened? I miss you.

You do not pick calls anymore. It sure felt good being able to call you when ‘Sura Yako‘ by Sauti Sol came on the radio. Our song! I have decided it is our song! You know how much I love Sauti Sol.

I am writing this as I listen to Michael Bolton! With ear phones lodged deep in my ears! I listen to Michael Bolton when I am writing. I am embarrassed. But I feel theres no better jams to pour your heart out to that Michael Bolton… Especially when it is a sad story! His voice is just the right pitch for telling a sad story.

A lot has happened since I last wrote. Nothing ‘near death’ though!

I have been having a difficult time sleeping the past few days! I like sleeping, and I conc* out in seconds no matter what is on my mind. That is why I can watch horror movies so easily in the dead of the night when I am alone. I will not have issues sleeping through a good exorcism movie! I have slept like a baby right after a bad break up! I will cry, yes… Lakini saa ya kulala ni saa ya kulala! I remember one time in primary school my mum was called in by the deputy head teacher because she thought I was sick. I had slept the whole day! Hehe! Also, without an alarm, I can be asleep 17 days mfululizo*! I like my sleep and if it gets to a point where I can’t sleep, it is a BIG! Let me explain!

The Upper Hill Falls!

The Upper Hill Falls! And 200k apartments in the background!

I live in Madaraka. A railway line separates Madaraka from Upper Hill. The apartments opposite mine (on the Upper Hill side) cost 200k a month! So that railway line is just the world telling me, ‘LANES NIGGA… LANES!’

About a month ago a sewage pipe blew up on the Upper Hill side. Not the usual 3mm pipe burst you see everyday. This was some major shit transporter! It got worse with every passing day! It was a water fall in a week! And I am not exaggerating! Please try to take out the picture of a waterfall of shit from your head, because it wasn’t anything like that! Just RAW water. Does that make sense? It is just green water that looks like it would satisfy a medium skuma wiki farm. It looked quite rich!

So, of late, I have learnt to sleep with the sound of a water fall in my back yard. Which is not so bad. It is soothing… Sleeping to the sound of high velocity water hitting the ground is quite heavenly. It is almost like rain hitting the walls of your apartment… It is like sitting in your car and watching rain hit your wind shield. I am trying to tell you that it is nice! Everyone knows how beautiful it is to sleep to the sound of rain!

Now imagine I have been sleeping to this waterfall for a month then Nairobi City Water and Sewerage Company decide to fix it! One of the few things they are doing right is wrong! I am still mad at them for bursting my water metre! Now I can’t sleep. Madaraka Resort and Spa is now just Madaraka!

This one is for K-Waxx who can recite almost all my letters to Doris word for word!

Important Note: I thoroughly appreciate my readers. Very few things give my heart the same warmth as when a fan goes, “Dear Doris!” You mean a lot to me.

Another important note: My blogger friend @MagungaWilliams is contesting for a really big #Samsung tv. If he win this huge #Samsung tv, he gets to give whomever he chooses another #Samsung tv. I have no clue how this works but I want that other #Samsung tv. I have no idea what one is supposed to do or how one is supposed to do it… All I know is everyone who wants this other #Samsung tv keeps on using the hash tag #Samsung all over the place. Read @MagungaWilliams’ work here Real G so that he can win tvs for all of us. Also comment there telling him it is me he should give the #Samsung tv to!

 
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Posted by on October 30, 2014 in comedy, random, short comings

 

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WHEN TO USE YOUR MIDDLE FINGER!


My Love Doris,

I really have bad manners. I apologise. It has been over a month since I last wrote… And I do not have an excuse! Does love have an excuse? Dos it ever? Please don’t stop talking to me because I am not sure if I will survive it. I am certain I have enough FluGone to silence my heart… It is dangerous having a 12 capsule drug that treats you on its 3rd capsule… So many pills lying around… This is no threat my love… If anything, it is my unDYING love!

Enough!

So I haven’t written all this while because I have been thoroughly involved in the planning of the Storymoja Festival that ran 5 days, from 17th to the 21st of September. I swear to whomever you are most comfortable swearing to that I have never seen anything like that. It was amazing I tell you. It was a lot of work though. We barely slept at Storymoja during that period and before. Hundreds of local and international guests… 80 interns and a team of barely 20 men and women with 5 walkie talkies and thousands of literature lovers to satisfy. The only time I had to rest, Saturday night, was spent jumping and dancing at the Sauti Sol, Berry Heart, Dizraeli & Airosh (did I spell that right?) concert! I have ripped 12 trousers dancing to Sauti Sol… 12 my guy! So be advised that Sauti Sol time… Is gym time! I realised that was a terrible idea when I couldn’t move my waist Sunday morning!

This was me at the Sauti Sol concert at the Storymoja Festival

This was me at the Sauti Sol concert at the Storymoja Festival

If I continue telling you about the Storymoja Festival now, I will not have enough time to tell you what I had planned to tell you. I will leave a link at the bottom though!

This same night, driving home extremely tired, after dancing non stop for about 2 hours to Sauti Sol then later clearing up the Festival site for the next/last day, a man tries my patience!

A blue Subaru Impreza swerves then overtakes me just before I get onto Uhuru Highway at Museum Hill. I forgive the poor soul and try to convince myself that maybe I was on the wrong… Then the idiot screeches to a halt right in front of me. I swear if I was not such a deadly driver I would have torn off the Impreza’s ass! I got so close to him that I could see my plate reflect off his car!

My Esmeralda (my car) is kind and loving and for this reason she refuses to hoot! She decides to let out a faint snore instead. I almost broke the hoot button! The idiot ignores and speeds off!

At this point I was determined to wave my middle fingers at this idiot. So I spend most of my 700 bob worth of fuel trying to catch up to this guy! Subarus do not ati move slowly!

I meet him at the University Way Roundabout at a red light… I roll down my window and I wave both my middle fingers at him! I discovered this was a big mistake when the idiot rolled down his window… Slowlllyyyy. He was a big man! His head was massive. I quickly rolled up my window and waited for the traffic light counter to turn green!

Jeff Koinange and I after he autographed my copy of Through my African Eyes.

Jeff Koinange and I after he autographed my copy of Through my African Eyes.

The counter turned green… I didn’t move an inch… The Subaru didn’t either! (My plan was to let him go! Bad plan… And no plan B)

I shifted to gear one then shot! I was over 100km/h in no time… The Subaru was right behind me not even trying ati to speed! He kept on making his car make those loud Subaru noises behind me! The palm of my hands were drenched in sweat before we got to Haile Selassie roundabout! The man maintained the short distance between him and Esmeralda. His headlights were full… It was like he was trying to kill vampires with them.

I skip the red light on Haile  Selassie roundabout and almost hit another car. The guy still behind me.

Now you see I have heard about this road rage story… People shooting each other and other scary things like that. I was not about that. I had just bought an autographed copy of Jeff Koinange’s book, Through my African Eyes, that cost me about 4,000/- and there was no way in hell I was going to die before I at least went through the pictures… At least! I hit Bunyala/Uhuru Highway roundabout at breakneck speed. But I do not go past it. I go all the way round to see if the guy would follow me… He does! I almost piss my pants!

My unplanned, plan B, had hit the wall.

I decide to drive to my house and tell the watchmen to close the gates, which I now see was a terrible plan as well… But adrenaline makes you do stupid things!

I am blind… I can barely see at night. That information is very important for you to fathom what goes on the next paragraph!

Just hanging out with Bob Collymore and Rashida Namulondo at the Storymoja Festival.

Just hanging out with Bob Collymore and Rashida Namulondo from Uganda at the Storymoja Festival.

I go round the roundabout and shoot through Uhuru Highway towards Nyayo Stadium Roundabout… Or so I thought. I had taken a wrong exit. I was on Aerodrome Road at 100km/h. Driving towards traffic on a one way road. Thank Jesus Christ it was at 2am and only two cars were on the road… 3 cars, if you count the Subaru Impreza behind me! The huge male adult must have thought I was absolutely mad! That’s why I was convinced at that point that I was a dead man… Not everyone tolerates middle fingers waving at them!

The man slows down a bit… I don’t! I get to the Madaraka Roundabout and turn into Madaraka without slowing down. I look at my rear view mirror and couldn’t see the guy! I make a dangerous turn into Madaraka Shopping Centre almost killing a couple that I suspect were making out in the dark in the middle of the road! Children!

I park at a corner and turn off my engine and lights! I look around… Nothing! The couple I almost hit are now walking towards me, furious! MORE FUCKIN’ PROBLEMS!

I apologise to the guy who at that point, needed his woman to see that he was BAD. They leave me alone!

On my rear view mirror I spot Hassan, the sausage choma guy packing up. I leave the car and run to him. If there was anyone who was going to save me that night… It was him. I have eaten enough of his sausage chomas to deserve it! (that sentence sounds nasty). He has a sausage choma left with a few kuku chomas. I ask him to make me one. He gets a bun and slowly slices it… The picks up a frankfurter and slices it in half then puts it neatly into the bun.

“Bila kachumbari kama kawaida?” he asks. (I am allergic to onions)

“Ndio!” I answer. I grab it before he could suggest ketchup and chilli sauce to be added onto it! I take a bit… It was at that second that I spotted the Subaru with the side of my eye. It would have been appropriate for the sausage choma to fall at this point but the thing is 100 bob, and I do not shit money!

The guy parked right next to my car. He then came out of his car and tucked in his shirt that was being pushed out by his stomach.

I started thinking fast. I had not been in a one on one fight for years. And I had never been on a one on one fight with a man that big!!! I was surely going to die!

Hanging out with cool people still at the Storymoja Festival. I am the guy with a cool head and butt out!

Hanging out with cool people still at the Storymoja Festival. I am the guy with a cool head and butt out!

The man slowly walked to where I stood. The bite I had taken of the sausage choma became hotter and hotter with every step he made. His legs were bowed and back arched. I spat out the sausage choma. No one wants to get punched on the face with sausage choma in their mouth!

“Hassan unajua huyu kurutu!?” The man asks and picks up a piece of chicken! He then salts the chicken… Then bites it! His eyes are stuck on mine.

You know when your life flashes before your eyes just before death? I was so scared I couldn’t even get my life to flash before my eyes.

“Customer wangu sana!” Hassan responds not knowing I was planning to jump on him incase shit went down!

The man was done with a quarter piece of chicken in three bites. He spat out clean chicken bones, his eyes still on mine.

“Kula sausage!” he ordered me. I took a bite of my sausage choma but didn’t chew. I swallowed it exactly the way it was. I almost died!

I have no clue where I got balls from but I did somehow. I started walking to my car. With my sausage choma tightly held in my left hand, I got into Esmeralda threw the sausage choma on the co-drivers seat and SHOT! I drove past my house like devils lived in that compound. I drove past Strathmore University which is like 40 blocks after mine. I drove up until I got to Mbagathi way. I then went into T-Mall and waited in the basement parking for half an hour, then slowly drove home! I parked right at the back of the apartment buildings and almost removed my plates.

I whistled as I walked up to my house praying all the prayers in the world. I wasn’t even worried about the sausage choma I had just left on my seat… Life is bigger than sausage choma!

I will post this version now but will make a few grammatical and spelling changes once @Owaahh edits it whenever!

Dear Subaru guy, if you are reading this, I am really sorry… Let’s not fight anymore! I am a really cool guy. I was just stressed with work that night. I swear!

In case you missed the Storymoja Festival:

http://www.storymojafestival.com

http://blog.storymojafestival.com

http://www.mmegi.bw/index.php?aid=46198

http://www.standardmedia.co.ke/entertainment/article/2000135576/imagining-the-world-at-kenya-s-premier-annual-literary-event-storymoja-festival

 
23 Comments

Posted by on September 30, 2014 in comedy

 

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EBOLA NOW IN NAIROBI KENYA


Dear Doris,

My love, I will scurry through this one.

Someone asked me the other day why I love you so much! She asked if I love the way you make skim wiki or ugali! She asked if you make me breakfast in the morning and if you knew I was lactose and intolerant and allergic to onions! She asked if it was because you love me unconditionally! I had no answer, but in my heart I knew it was not because of any of those things. I love you… I just do!

I went to an Mpesa stall day before yesterday. I have a specific Mpesa place I go to every time. I lost my ID ages ago and I am too lazy to get a replacement so I decided to make an Mpesa lady friend who will not ask me for my ID. I have been going there almost a year now and she has even mastered the first four numbers of my ID number! After a transaction she will go like, “ID number ni two, eight, seven, six halafu?”

This is an expensive relationship… time-wise. I cannot just go there withdraw or deposit money and leave! We have to talk for a short while. We gossip, she knows everything going on around her! The other day she was telling me how two waiters from a nearby restaurant, a man and woman left together holding hands. She things they are having sex!

The Mpesa lady, Prisca, is short. She was nothing above four and a half feet. She is really dark with shinny chubby cheeks that have seen their fair share of Vaseline Petroleum jelly. On hot days she shines from all the molten petroleum on her face and on cold days the sweat pores on her face are sealed shut!

Her breath is detestable and the braids on her head are few, maroon and scattered. She has three blouses, a green net one, a milky silk one and a brown net one. Her nails are all eaten up deep into the skin. The skin around her nails is chapped from missing the nails when she bites at them. Prisca’s laugh is a modified snore. It is funny!

After I deposited 1,200 bob Prisca said, “ID number ni two, eight, seven, six half?” I gave it to her then she slid the Mpesa book for me to sign. A drop of blood left my nose and hit the Mpesa book with a light decent blop! I knew I was going to nosebleed at some point because I could smell blood iron. Do you know that smell?

nosebleed3pf-e1270053006833You see, I have been nose bleeding every single day for almost ten years now in the shower. It was scary at the beginning but not anymore now that I know I am not dying. A doctor said a blood vessel in my left nose raptures very easily. He said it is normal and can be treated by a minor surgery… I lost him at surgery! To confirm to myself I am not dying, I go donating blood once every now and then to make sure I am not dying. My blood pressure, blood sugar and BMI are tip-top! Who wants to deal with life disrupting news right?

Recently I have been having random nosebleeds during the day, and this was one of those ones!

Prisca jumped back and cover her nose with the edge of her sweater! She looks at me foe a second or two and ran out of the Mpesa stall. I was certain she was running to get help when she ran into a nearby chemist! I had no clue what to do, ‘should I stay there until she came back or just leave?’ I asked myself.

Then, still with her sweater covering her nose, she came out of the chemist with two men in white gowns. Then she pointed at me!

The two guys wearing green rubber gloves (P.S – I just asked what those gloves are called aloud and someone said surgical gloves. I do not believe him)

The two guys suspecting I would run off were gesturing all sorts of peace gestures as they walked towards me!

I just stood there pinching the bridge of my nose trying to make the bleeding stop.

The two led me into the chemist and to a back room and made me lie facing up on a doctor’s table. This was really scary by the way. This is how people get raped. Being led by two strange men into a semi lit room!

They checked my temperature and asked me if I have been having random headaches. My temperature was fine and I had not been having random headaches. Then they asked if I have always had nosebleeds and I said I had, everyday for ten years!

The two men walked out of the room. I could hear them whispering things to each other. I sat up just to be ready incase they were planning to come in hard and hold me down and rape me! I clenched my fist and raised it to look intimidating!

They walked back in and told me they suspected I had Ebola but that was not the case. Prince had told them I had Ebola!

One of them gave me nose drops and told me to put two drops of it three times a day! He said it was free. I walked out of that chemist and threw it away! You do not just give people things and ask them to put two drops in their nose three times a day! That’s how people get killed!

I completely ignored Prisca as I walked past her Mpesa stall. I am blind to snitches.

P.S For some reason my computer does not consider Prisca a valid name and keeps changing it to Prince. So Prince and Prince is the same thing.

 
12 Comments

Posted by on August 22, 2014 in comedy, near death, random

 

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DISADVANTAGES OF USING A CONDOM


My Lover,

I start this letter by apologising for the long silence. I know it is hard to believe me when I keep on saying how much I love you and never write as often as one should… Believe me. Only one woman resides at the foot of my arteries… And that is you my love!

This will be short! I was in Sarit yesterday night at about 9:30pm. Quite the ungodly hour to be 8.7KMs from you bed don’t you think? On a school night! I was not there to catch a beer… Or passing by Uchumi to randomly buy wet wipes and gum. I wasn’t there ogling the pretty woman from the DHL office in dreadlocks and ass for days! I was not there for anything important really… I went to check mail from the post office box. This move was completely unplanned for, I turned into Sarit from the office because I thought someone was following me! If you are driving closely behind me with your full lights for more than 3 minutes then you would be definitely following me! And this guy was doing just that!

I get 3 letters… All bills… There is one from Rentokil… Another one from Madison Insurance and the last from Kenya Power and Lighting! I stop for a second because my phone starts vibrating out of control from incoming notifications. This is because it picked up the Java wireless network. Free internet is the best internet. I stand near Java for about 5 minutes updating Google Music, an application I never even use.

The place was almost dead. There were only 5 people on the ground floor. A white man visibly over his middle ages walking with two skinny black women. He was not sober. The two poor women held him as they all staggered out of the mall.

“Fuck them… Fuck all of them!” He kept on saying! “I can buy the whole place! The whole fuckin’ place!” He continued!

He would grab the skinny girls’ buttocks every once in a while and they would giggle like piglets! “Not now!” One skinny woman would say! “Yeah… Not now!” the other girl would second.

The two skinny women shopped for hair at the same shop for sure. They both had thick dark bushy synthetic weaves planted on their heads! But this isn’t my story! I get to the parking ticket machine and find the threesome stranded there because the white guy cannot find his parking ticket!

“Did I give you my fucking ticket?” He asked one of the two skinny women… I put my ticket into the thing and it says I need to put in 50 shillings! I check my pockets even though I was sure I didn’t have money there.10411261_10152370631474998_4669649532465351611_n

I Never put money in my pockets! I then say a short prayer and check my wallet… It’s emptiness was deafening! I could feel a few coins inside it though… From the side. Hidden in one of the folds. I never keep coins in my wallet, so this caught me a bit off guard. I had not put any teeth under my pillow for the tooth fairy, so where were these coins from!?

Being able to feel coins in that wallet and not being able to find them is really annoying!!! It is like a phone ringing in a woman’s handbag and she can’t find it! So, I put the thing upside down in a way that anything heavier than business cards or credit cards…

Let me explain this scene. A female guard had seen me struggling to find money and had started walking towards me. The white man and his skinnies were right there each going through a different pocket of his looking for his parking ticket and an Indian man was right behind me waiting for me to finish… It was at this point that a condom fell off my wallet! See here, it is not such a bad thing a condom falling off a man’s wallet… In all facts, it is a good thing! The man is using protection… Problems come in waves when the condom looks like Methuselah suffering from Ebola!

I have no clue how long it had been there… I had no clue where it was in there… I had no clue whatsoever what it wanted to achieve by falling off at that moment! I freak out because this caught everyone’s attention… In my hurried attempt to retrieve the thing, I kick it by mistake!The thing slides on the tiled floor and stops right at the guard’s foot! She smiles naughtily! I rush and pick it up and put it in my pocket.My heart is pounding terribly from embarrassment! I examine my hand and notice a shinny patch… The thing was broken!This explained why my notes were translucent lately! All along I thought my farts were really lethal and they made money shine!

Please note that I still hadn’t found money! The female guard pays pushes my ticket back into the machine and feeds it a 50 shilling note!Then turns to me and dishes that naughty smile again… Then she walks away spinning her button and swinging her buttocks! My story is over!

 
22 Comments

Posted by on August 15, 2014 in comedy

 

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