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Category Archives: near death

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?

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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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4 Comments

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

 

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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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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)

 

 

 
37 Comments

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!

 

 
23 Comments

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!

 

 
10 Comments

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

 

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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.

Doris...

Doris…

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…

 
31 Comments

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

 

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MH370 BLACKBOX FOUND!


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: http://www.blogawards.co.ke

 
12 Comments

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

 

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