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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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7 Comments

Posted by on November 14, 2014 in comedy

 

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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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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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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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I AM A PROSTITUTE!


My Dearest and My Most Beloved Friend Doris,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The two cops were still behind us…

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

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

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

The cops leave with three full Cadillacs!

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

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

Oh well… I guess we will never know!

Whole point of this story, ALWAYS LEAVE THE HOUSEHELP MONEY ON TOP OF THE MICROWAVE!

Two hundred shot!

*This is for Pooh*

Click to vote for Dear Doris

Click to vote for Dear Doris

 

 
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Posted by on April 3, 2014 in comedy

 

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PUSSIES IN MY ENGINE


Dear Doris,

I love you… And it has hit me that I have a lot that I do not tell you… You know those random short stories that one easily puts aside? Yeah… So I have started a new category called ‘short Comings’ that will have these stories!

I did not use my car the whole weekend (This is a very important bit so keep it in mind). I spent most of my weekend indoors. The only times I left the house was to go get lunch on Saturday and to take out the garbage on Sunday night… I totally ignore my grandma’s advice never to take the garbage out at nigh because apparently you are throwing away blessings… Is that why I do not own a CLS yet?

But this is a short story so I will get right to it…

On my way to work this morning I stopped at a gas station to fuel for the week… Ok I am lying… I had like 260 bob… That was a one way ticket to the office…

The Total guy looked at me funny then ordered, “Fungua tank!” I did… I do not understand why these attendants become less pleasant when you buy 200 bob fuel…

“Receipt?” I asked after he slum shut my fuel tank door… He was not too excited.

3tbjc4“Mbele iko sawa?” He asked as he handed me my receipt!

“Ebu check…” I ask and pop the bonnet.

The guy jumped back with a loud shriek letting go the bonnet.

“Boss kuna paka wawili hapo ndani!” He said keeping his distance… “Sasa tufanye aje?” I ask.

“Wewe enda tu nazo. Hapa hatufugi pussi! Usijali hazitaanguka ukiendesha” He said and jammed the bonnet. He then cleaned my wind shield.

I am now at the office with one cat in my engine. I have no clue where the second one is and I am feeling terrible that it might have fallen on the road even though I was driving very slowly.

The watchman at the office who washes my car has just sent me a text, “Ian, nifanye nini na huyu paka?”

“Chukua!” I reply!

I thought this was going to be short :/

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Posted by on October 28, 2013 in comedy, short comings

 

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LABDA KESHO


My One and Only Doris,

As I write this I have so much going on in my mind… I am torn clean apart. My love for you diminishes slowly though I do not want it to! I am holding on to wind… It slowly escapes through my fingers… It breaks me that there is nothing I can do about… If there was ever… EVER… anything I could have possibly done about it my love… I already have…

I have sat here and watched you disrespect me… I have watched you lie to me… I have watched you turn to another man… I have written numerous letters and watch them go unanswered… I have loved you… Doris… If there’s anything I have not done for us… It has to be letting go… And I am being swept down that river… And Fast!

So much has happened since the last time I wrote… My birthday unplanned party being one of them… Nothing out of the ordinary went down… Drinking and starting fights and eating lactose ridden cakes that I should not have been eating!! The coolest thing that happened though is my dad calling me in the dead of the night ( I was in the club) and singing all four verses of “Happy Birthday…” That was cool… So I was there like:

“Whaaaat?…. Yeahhhhh….”

I do not have my glasses on so I can barely see anything I am writing… So this time the spelling mistakes might be more… Ok… WILL be more than usual!

I am a kind man… You all know this from my matatu days when I used to dish all my money to the street humans… Do you remember? I am a generous man… I am willing to share anything… ANYTHING… Except chapati… I believe that is fair… Chapati and my signed copy of THE CURIOUS INCIDENT OF THE DOG IN THE NIGHT!

I try to give a little money to the people who beg on Uhuru Highway when traffic constipates! I collect coins in my centre console during the day and dish the out on my way home from the office… Which is always like 11pm

I always have like an average 70 bob saved up for my niggas on the streets every night… What they use this money for… I do not know… And do not care really… I just know whatever it is, it is serious enough to have them put up  a woiye face every day and night out in the cold… It must be something important to them.. Something they can’t live without… Like food… or water… or drugs… or underwear… It really does not matter… I just want to help…

This has gotten me a few friends on these streets… More like highways!

This was funny...

This was funny…

Sometimes I have nothing to give these people… As in I am not Pablo Escobar… These street humans never understand this bit… They assume that so long as you are driving, you have money… THIS IS NEVER THE CASE!!!! NEVER!

They get so upset when you tell them, “Boss hakuna leo… Labda kesho!” WHICH IS THE FUCKING TRUTH!!! I know some people do not mean it when they say, …”Labda kesho…” BUT I DO… I mean I give you money everyday!!! And today I used the last coins I had to buy a mandazi at the office… WHY THE SEX WOULDNT YOU BELIEVE THAT!? They would normally walk away so pissed… They have easily forgotten that the previous night I gave you 42 bob… I know that cannot buy milk or bread with this new VAT thing… BUT YOU HAVE PROBABLY COLLECTED A GOOD SUM OF COINS SINCE MORNING…. SO DO NOT STRESS ME MAN!!!

Wah… WHere has this rage comes from… Is this kindness fake…

BUT

SO the other night I am driving home at about midnight. I have this friend on Uhuru highway… He is always set near the Barclay Plaza junction… If you use Uhuru Highway often you probably know him… He has prosthetic feet… You know him… He is my best street friend… He is cool… He has amazing short stories. Sometimes when there is traffic, he would go like… “Manze kuna hii day…”

I am losing plot….

So I am driving home and there he was.. He was very happy to see me… This VAT business had strengthened our relationship!! He comes to my window and I am way too familiar with the drill… The traffic is moving so no stories today… I reach to the centre console and there is nothing there…. A few CDs and a screw driver but no coin whatsoever!

So I go like…. “Pole labda kesho…” and at that moment I planned to get some coins for the guy…

The guy didn’t believe me… I hate it when I am telling the truth and no one believes me…. I get pissed… Feels like Carrey from Homeland… I go mad! Everyone does, yes?

“Sasa unaninyima chakula…” He says… Now following the car…. His statement struck a chord… I almost stopped the car to KIDERO him… Hahahaha! Get it? To KIDERO him… HAHAHAHA! I excite myself!

So to make him believe, I yank out my wallet and show it to him… It had nothing… Be warned that traffic is moving and everything thats going on IS ON THE MOVE!

With the speed of the devil this guy puts his hand in the car and snatches my wallet and turns back… He is making a run for it… Or trying to…. There are a few things you cannot do without legs… I think… one of them is what this guy was trying…

I get out of my car and walk after him! He does not stop for a short while until it hits him that he is fighting a losing battle…

He turns towards me and says…. “Ndio hii walenje… Turudi kwa gari…” (Here is your wallet, lets go back to the car!) I take back my wallet and we walk to the car!

“Ebu angalia tena… Hakuna kabisa?” He asks…. (Check again… Sure theres absolutely nothing!?)

I get into my car and drive off…

“Kesho bas…” He says (Tomorrow then)

 

This might be the last letter I write up until after the Storymoja Hay Festival… It is busy at the office trying to bring it together… I hope you all can make it. It is going to be amazing… Teju Cole will be there… Warsan Shire…. And like 20 other great people…

This is for the woman sitting next to me…

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Posted by on September 14, 2013 in comedy, my car

 

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